Chapter Nine
It took foreverto fall back asleep after Azio left, and dawn came far too soon. Exhausted but knowing I needed to get up, I stumbled from bed. It was only when I reached for jeans that weren’t there that I remembered I had no reason to get up so early.
For a brief moment, my heart ached for what I’d lost. I pushed that aside and focused on what I’d gained. I was free to sleep in as late as I wanted, or I could shower first thing in the morning like I used to do before the world fell apart.
Torn, I hesitated for a moment before the urge to shower won. I was already out of bed, anyway.
I went downstairs for the clothes I’d washed and found my jeans and shirt folded neatly on the dryer. However, the bra and yesterday’s underwear were missing. Frowning, I started searching the laundry room for them.
“Terri, would you like eggs for breakfast?” Azio called from the kitchen.
That brought an immediate stop to the search. It’d been ages since I’d had eggs.
When I entered the kitchen, Azio’s gaze dipped to my chest, which was moving a bit too freely in my rush to verify he had honest to goodness farm fresh food.
“Are you serious about the eggs?” I asked, fighting the urge to cross my arms.
He lifted his gaze and nodded. His direct attention made my pulse leap, but it wasn’t enough to distract me from what he’d said.
“Then, yes, please. I’d give anything to have eggs again.” I hesitated a moment, then forced myself to add, “Did you, by chance, see my bra in the laundry? I can’t find it.”
He turned his back to me, pulling things from the cupboards as he answered.
“I saw you didn’t have much to wear and left to find you more. Groth stayed. You were safe. I took your clothes with me to compare sizes. I found more but lost your bra. The new clothes are in the bathroom if you want to shower while I make breakfast.”
When he’d admitted to opening the door last night because he’d been worried that I’d left, I hadn’t known what to think. But hearing that he’d gone out in the middle of the night, which we’d already established was dangerous, just to get me more to wear? His thoughtfulness gently pierced my heart. Yes, losing the bra sucked, but outer clothes were so much more important.
“That was really nice of you to do that for me, Azio. Don’t worry about the bra. I’m sure I’ll be able to find another one.”
He grunted, and eager to see what he’d found, I left him in the kitchen.
A small stack of clothes waited in the bathroom. Underwear, as promised, shirts, and shorts. The items were far from the sturdier clothes I’d been imagining. I picked up the vivid pink thong and chewed on my lip. A thong was at the bottom of the list for preferred undergarments, but beggars couldn’t be too choosy. Clean was clean.
The shorts were a little abrupt for my taste, too, and the shirts could barely be called shirts. Made out of threadbare material, they wouldn’t preserve any modesty. Especially without a bra. It would be like wearing nothing at all.
I felt so bad that there wasn’t anything in the pile I wanted to wear and wondered how offended Azio would be if I reappeared in the same clothes I’d worn to bed. Maybe I could get away with wearing the shorts with yesterday’s shirt.
Hoping that the compromise would be enough to prevent any possible ripples in our tenuous cohabitation, I stripped and got to showering. Maybe there were some thong wearers in town who’d be willing to trade for a regular set of briefs. I didn’t need sexy. I needed sturdy.
Wait. Did I?
I’d already acknowledged that I didn’t have the same responsibilities here. In fact, I’d spent the entire prior day watching movies. Not exactly a strenuous activity. And a thong would work in my benefit if or when I finally made up my mind about having a baby.
I rinsed my hair and imagined propositioning Azio while wearing nothing but a thong. Every scenario that I ran through my head ended with me terrified and close to passing out. That made-up terror bled over into reality so much that I had to turn off the water, brace my hands on my knees, and give up that line of thinking.
Disappointment bit into me as I dried off and acknowledged I wouldn’t be pregnant any time soon.
Moving on autopilot, I bent for the clothes I’d removed. They weren’t on the floor. Confused, I looked at the closed toilet seat then the counter where the new clothes waited.
“What in the hell…”
My clothes, my safe underwear, were gone.
I reluctantly reached for the thong. However, the moment that string penetrated my crack, I shook my head and hurried to tug them off.
“Nope. Not happening.”
Leaving the rejected thong on the floor, I snatched up a pair of shorts. The bottom half of my butt cheeks hung out when I checked the mirror. It wasn’t awful, though. Between that and the exposed curve of my lower back, I felt kind of sexy.