Chapter 112 A Different Kind of Flavor
Christine White cried, “I forgot my pajamas …”
“All this fuss over it?” Baird Lane wrinkled his nose.
He thought something was wrong when she made that awful sound.
“Well … I don’t know what I’m going to wear tonight.” Christine White covered her face with her hands, feeling humiliated.
Obviously, I went upstairs to load my clothes at that time, and I had all the clothes for the ancestor’s festival, so how could I have forgotten my pajamas.
That’s a terrible memory, too. Christine White mentally spat at herself.
Baird Lane gave her a contemptuous look as well, “What an outburst!”
He headed for the closet and took a white shirt from it and tossed it to her.
Christine White caught it with her hands and feet, “This is …”
“Wear it as pajamas.” Baird Lane returned.
Christine White’s mouth dropped open in surprise, “But it’s your dress!”
“Not wearing it?” Baird Lane looked at her.
Christine White swallowed, “No, just a little uncomfortable …”
She hadn’t expected that he would give her his clothes to wear, and a close-fitting shirt at that.
“If you’re not used to it, hang it back.” Baird Lane withdrew his eyes and stopped looking at her.
Christine White hurriedly cradled the dress in her arms, “Hanging it back won’t be necessary, I’ll get used to it soon enough.”
When she finished, she darted into the bathroom.
She’d had a hard time getting a chance to wear his clothes, and she said she couldn’t pass it up.
Christine White closed the bathroom door behind her and exhaled softly before looking down at the shirt in her arms.
The shirt had gotten a few noticeable wrinkles from her nuzzling into it, and she hurriedly unfolded it and hung it up, tugging at the wrinkles and pulling them to the sides.
It was a good thing the shirt was silk, a few tugs smoothed out the wrinkles and she smiled slightly as she thought of something, sneaking a glance at the bathroom door and seeing that it was closed, she stretched her neck out to sniff at the shirt with confidence and boldness.
She expected to smell the man’s scent or perfume left on it, yet she sniffed halfway through and there was nothing on it.
She then reacted to the fact that the shirt, which Baird Lane had not worn, was a brand new one.
She was both lost and a little embarrassed.
Lost that she couldn’t find any trace of Baird Lane on her shirt, and embarrassed that she’d just been sniffing like a demented man!
“Well …” Christine White covered her red hot little face and grunted in shame.
It was a good thing she was alone in the bathroom, and she had closed the door behind her again.
If Baird Lane had seen what she’d just done, he might have been disgusted!
Christine White squatted down and slowly brought her mind to rest, waiting until her face was no longer red and burning and she no longer felt embarrassed inside before she stood back up and undressed for the shower.
Ten minutes later, she walked out of the bathroom wearing a Baird Lane shirt, “Baird …”
Baird Lane heard the voice, looked up from his book and froze, suddenly unable to see anything in his eyes but the figure walking towards him.
Christine White was seen walking over to him in his shirt, which was too big for her and looked loose on her thin body, similar to a child stealing an adult’s clothes, and she had to lift the neckline tightly to keep it from slipping off her shoulders.
But the hem of the shirt reveals her two white slender thighs, the thighs of white dazzling, let a person look at it can not open their eyes, her hair wet also draped over her shoulders, palm-sized face is still covered with two groups of red, looking at people have a kind of want to bully the impulse.
This is the first time Baird Lane has seen such a Christine White.
Obviously, her face, which was usually not remarkable, now had a different kind of flavor.
This woman, it seemed, wasn’t as bad as he thought she was.
Baird Lane’s eyes darkened at the thought, and the knot in his throat couldn’t help but slide twice.
The searing look he had just given Christine White made her tense up, she held the neckline in one hand and tugged the hem down with the other, “Baird, I’m done washing.”
“Uh-huh.” Baird Lane responded in a hoarse voice.
Christine White looked at the book in his hand, “Are you going to take a shower now?”
“Wait a while, you can sleep first.” Baird Lane turned a page in his book.
Christine White ohs, “I’ll go to bed then, you go to bed early too.”
“Know.”
Christine White stopped talking and lifted her feet to the bed.
There was a blow dryer right next to the bed on the nightstand and she picked it up and plugged it in and started blow drying her hair.
Baird Lane craned his head to look at her and saw that she hadn’t noticed this way before he closed the book and got up to head for the bathroom.
By the time he got out of the shower, Christine White was already in bed, passed out.
He walked over and stood by the bed looking down at her, “Christine White!”
Christine White tinkled in response, “What’s wrong?”
“It’s okay, you sleep.” Baird Lane lifts the covers and lies down.
He just wanted to see if she was really asleep.
Christine White’s body stirred once she heard that the man was okay, closing her eyes back up and continuing to sleep.
Baird Lane swept her up in his arms and turned off the lights.
After a good night’s sleep, Christine White was awakened the next day by a servant from the old mansion.
When I woke up, there was no one around.
She yawned and went to the bathroom to wash up, and when she came out afterward, the maids were tidying up the room.
“That …” She was a little unsure of what to call it.
The maid smiled, “Young Granny please ask if you have any questions!”
“Do you know where Baird went?” Christine White inquired.
The servant nodded, “Young Master has gone to entertain the clan members of The Lane Family.”
“Clan?” Christine White wondered.
The maid explained, “It’s those The Lane Family people from the side line.”
“So, am I going to be there then?” Christine White asked with some uncertainty.
Baird Lane had gone to entertain the men, and it seemed as if she, as his wife, should be along.
“You don’t need to, young granny, young master specially instructed before he left, young granny, you just stay in your room so that those people don’t give you a hard time.” The maid respectfully returned.
Christine White blinked, “Baird really said that?”
“Yes.”
Christine White sighed in relief, “I see, thank you.”
It was good not to have to entertain those people, she didn’t know any of them, and she didn’t know what to call them when she went there.
Might as well just stay in the room.
“And will Young Granny have breakfast in her room or in the dining room?” The maid asked.
Christine White sat at the dresser brushing her hair, “Room it.”Belongs to NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.
“Okay.” The maid answered and turned to go out.
After a while, breakfast came up.
Christine White changed and started breakfast, and was halfway through when the phone suddenly rang.
She put down her knife and fork and picked up her cell phone and glanced at it, the words Molly Bort bouncing across the screen.
She frowned her pretty eyebrows and hung up the phone without answering.
Anyway, every time Molly Bort called, either questioning this or that or inquiring about Baird Lane’s whereabouts, it didn’t hurt that she hung up.
Christine White put her cell phone down and went back to eating.
But Molly Bort acted like she was on to her, and within two minutes the call came back.
Christine White beamed and simply turned off her cell phone!
“That clears it up.” She muttered.
The maid on the side heard it and asked with concern, “Young granny, is it a nuisance call from someone?”
“Uh-huh.” Christine White nodded.
“Do I need to tell the young master?”
“No, no, it’s not a big deal, no need to tell Baird.”
“What don’t you have to tell me?” Baird Lane’s voice sounded in the doorway, followed by his tall voice walking in, also dressed in an ancestor’s offering.
Christine White carefully compared them and realized that they were similar in style to hers, and actually felt like a couple’s outfit.
“We were talking on the phone, someone just called me.” She looked at him.
Baird Lane could see a hint of sultriness in her eyes and couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow, “Who’s calling?”