Page 14 of Saving Bonnie

Bunny

Seven, seven, five, nine.I grimace while the lock buzzes as the dead bolt unlocks the door.Saul, how could you?I thought things ended in a good place. Instead, he takes everything I have. I owe him a phone call, but I’m going to have to wait until I can use my cell. Otherwise, I’ll have an audience hanging on every word I have to say.

I let myself into the apartment then go straight to the breakfast bar to leave the bacon-and-egg monster taco I brought Tino. Not only has he been awake all night, he hasn’t eaten. Should I wake him? Is he even asleep yet? I slip down the hall, trying to be as quiet as possible, and peek around the doorway. The bed is empty, and the door to the bathroom is open. My shoulders slump. All the worrying for nothing.

After setting some underwear on the dresser, I drag my top over my head and slip into the bathroom. Twisting the handle, I leave the water to heat then finish stripping. He said he’d be back but didn’t mention when, so I have to make the best of my time alone. I’m rinsing conditioner from my hair when a faint noise catches my attention. Pausing, I strain to hear over the running water. Did it come from my apartment or downstairs? I can’t tell, and the memories of last night are still too close for comfort.

With my heart racing, I pull the edge of the shower curtain open just enough to peek through. Even though the door didn’t open, I glance around the small bathroom. Nobody. Great. I slip out of the shower, dry off then wrap the towel around my hair before pulling on the robe I keep behind the door. I need to hurry. By now, we probably have customers showing up and so far only Manny manning the kitchen.

As soon as I open the door, I know he’s here. Stepping into the bedroom, I find him leaning casually against the dresser. His presence is all it takes to send a flutter through me. I take a breath and compose myself.

“I thought you’d left.”

“I came to drop off your cell.” With a hint of a smile on his lips, he leans forward, pulling the phone out of his back pocket. He sets it next to the clothes I left in a neat stack then lets his fingers drift over to the edge of the panties I chose.

“What’s this?” he asks, hooking a finger through the material.

I stare at the gray spandex hanging off his index finger. Flying across the room, I snatch it away. “What are you doing with my underwear?” I crush the panties in my hand.

“Underwear?” His eyebrow quirks, and my grip on the robe tightens as annoyance starts to edge out embarrassment.

“They’re boy shorts.” I press my lips together as I try to gather some dignity. Yes, fine, they may not be sexy, but they’re comfortable, affordable, and they cover everything they should.

“I imagined you wearing something high cut, covered in lace.” His gaze travels down my robe to the V of my legs.

“I run a kitchen. I can’t use something that’ll ride up while I’m running around.”

“How about a thong? They have nothing to ride up.”

“Thongs aren’t exactly made for someone—”Like me?I bite off the last part. Mr. Tall, Dark, and Deadly doesn’t know I’m boring, unassuming, and predictable. If anything, he might know the boisterous side of me I show the public. So I can easily change the end of my sentence. “Who works sixteen hours a day and is constantly on the go.”

“Then maybe just for after work.”

Those words cause a flutter in my tummy. Is he trying to recreate the scene from last night? With my ass bare and his hand coming to land between my legs. What does he expect? Honestly, that’s not me at all. If I hadn’t had a ball of resentment growing in my chest, I wouldn’t have followed through with my thoughtless remark.

“I don’t have any.” I’m a little flustered. I’ve sworn off dating for a while so sexy undies haven’t been on the radar.

“Hmm,” is his only comment.

I clutch at the towel slipping off my head, using it as a perfect excuse to not look him in the eye. Whenever I do, it always feels like he can see everything going through my head. That’s not a part of me I want to share with him despite everything else he has access to.

Needing to get dressed, and back to the kitchen, I clear my throat. “I’d like to get into my drawers.”

“So would I,” he replies in a lazy drawl.

It’s a full second before I piece together what he means. My gaze leaps to his, and I dig my teeth into the corner of my lower lip. Heat blasts through me as my body remembers last night with vivid detail.

His gaze follows the slope of my cheek to my neck then my chest. My senses awaken, preparing for anything he might want. Becausehe’dhave to want, after the arrangement we came to yesterday.

“Last night, we were coming upstairs, and you were going to show me everything I didn’t get in the kitchen.”

“You went down,” I remind him, in my own defense.

“You won’t have a problem with me going down today.” I catch my breath. Regardless of how he meant it, he has my pulse beating at a frantic pace, at my neck, at my chest, and between my legs.

Leaning in, he brings his arms around me to slip under the robe and cup my bare ass. I’d like to say I pushed, trying to get him to let me go, but it didn’t happen that way. Somehow, I lost the towel and the panties, and I’m holding on to him as he lifts me to wrap my legs around his waist. The robe sags, drawing his attention, but he barely gets to my shoulder. His breath fans over me at the collar, creating a spray of goose bumps.

The heady sensation goes all the way through my body, dropping my lids and making my toes curl. Things like this don’t happen to me, or at least they never have before. I’m not exactly a lightweight, and the men I’ve been with aren’t the gym type.

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