Page 40 of Tethered to the World
But she didn’t have the heart to keep it. She opened the bag, then set it back down with the warning, “Don’t make a mess.”
Without another protest, the three dove inside the bag, starting an all-out rumble as they fought over who got to shove the most chips in their mouths.
She lifted her arm, testing the movement, pleased to feel only a pang of stiffness. The injury was almost completely gone, even the scar was fading. By that evening, it should be all but gone. She turned and came to an abrupt stop when she saw the bed was full of boxes and bags, so many they spilled across the floor.
Instead of pleasure, she nearly dove for the stairs.
A single card rested on the half wall, and she approached it warily.
To make up for the ruined day.
Then just below that.
Don’t forget your promise.
Logan…but she didn’t know how he found the time to organize anything in the few hours since their return, but she had no doubt it was him. She gingerly opened the first box…and smiled to see a comfortable pair of jeans. She could tell by the look and feel that they were created for comfort, which meant expensive. She peered into the other bags and boxes. Most of them had piles of T-shirts, jeans, a few fancier tops that looked classy and sexy, not to mention about a dozen hoodies.
She blushed when she found three whole bags full of an assortment of underwear, everything from skimpy to see-through to boy shorts, plus a number of camisoles and bras. Everything was in her size. She shook her head and slumped against the half wall of the stairs, overwhelmed by his generosity and the sharp changes her life had taken.
She wondered how the hell he knew her size for everything but then recalled how she practically threw half her clothes at him the first night.
She couldn’t believe he’s checked the sizeandremembered.
That’s when she noticed a large box sitting in the center of the bed under all the others. She was almost afraid to touch it. As she pulled open the top, she saw two dresses. One was so elaborate, the wispy, dark purple fabric shimmered in the muted light, the silky material sliding through her fingers. The other was a sleeker dress, an iridescent pink meant to seduce.
Both were stunning, something out of a fairy tale.
She’d never owned anything so beautiful in her life.
Beneath the dresses was a smaller bundle. The leather was worn, the strings holding it closed threadbare, and she carefully unrolled it to find a set of gleaming black throwing knives. Based on the worn handles, she knew they were Logan’s prized blades.
Out of all the gifts on the bed, she loved them the most. She knew she should return them, that they had sentimental value to him, but she selfishly wanted to keep a piece of him close.
No one had ever bothered to give her something so thoughtful, so personally important to them.
She carefully rolled up the leather satchel, then tucked it under her pillow as a reminder to decide what to do about them later.
The ferrets distracted her by helping her unpack. They pulled at the tissue paper and wrappings, and ran off with the bags and boxes, as if to prevent her from returning them. After chasing one after another for a good fifteen minutes, she finally admitted defeat and gave up.
When she glanced at the bed, she saw the critters had left out a single outfit for her to wear. One ferret sat on the mattress, patting the black jeans, sleek top and comfortable black shoes.
It was stunning.
She hesitated over changing, but ultimately couldn’t resist temptation.
She’d never owned anything new before, something only she would ever wear.
And she admitted, if only to herself, that she wanted to look nice for the guys.
Once she was changed, her good mood sank a little…the clothes were wonderfully beautiful, obviously worth a fortune. They fit like they were made for her, showing off a figure she hadn’t known she possessed. She was used to hoodies, baggy clothes, nothing that would draw attention to herself…the complete opposite of what he picked out.
“You look beautiful,” Mason whispered from where he’d paused on the stairs.
Despite everything, knowing she shouldn’t, Annora wanted to keep the outfit. She wanted the guys to see her as a woman and not the homeless street rat they first met.
“It attracts too much attention.” She fingered the soft top clinging to her curves.
“No, the clothes only showcase the way you already look,” Mason countered. “Stunning.”
