Chapter 21
CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE
Addy
I wake up to a firm, muscular arm wrapped snugly around my waist and freeze.
I definitely didn’t anticipate falling asleep in his bed last night, but I have to admit, it feels wonderful being held in his arms. I wouldn’t mind staying in this position, but my bladder has come alive, so I slowly move until I’m standing and walk to the ensuite to take care of business.
While staring at my reflection, I realize that I don’t have a toothbrush, or even a hairbrush.
Sighing, I pull the scrunchie out of my hair then finger comb it before putting it up in another ponytail.
Spying mouthwash on the counter, I swig some of that and then rinse my mouth with water.
It’ll have to do until I can get home. I briefly notice that Mongrel’s bathroom is spotless, then grin because in this respect, we have a lot in common.
Nothing’s out of place and the tub, toilet, and sink are not what I would’ve expected for a single man.
Returning to the room, I see him sitting against the headboard, wide awake. “Morning,” he says, his voice raspy with sleep. “I think all the fresh air and good food knocked us both out last night.”
“Yeah, I think you’re right,” I reply. “I should head home, though.”
“Why? You’re going to be helping Gretchen today,” he says.
“I need a shower and to brush my teeth, all that jazz,” I tell him.
He climbs out of the bed and my mouth dries at the sight.
He had changed last night into a pair of cut-off sweats, and seeing his muscular body on display has my core clenching in need.
“I’ve got an extra toothbrush, a T-shirt you can wear, and if you give me a few minutes, I’m sure I can borrow some girlie shampoo and bodywash from Gretchen so you can take a shower. ”
“Are you sure?” I ask. “I don’t want to be a bother.”
“Addy, at some point, you’ll have stuff here. Last night, we both fell asleep, but there’s no reason for you to go all the way home to get cleaned up when we have shit here you can use.”
“Okay, if you’re positive, then yeah, I can do that,” I reply.
“Give me a few minutes,” he says as he heads into the ensuite and closes the door. I don’t miss the bulge at the front of his shorts and shiver in anticipation of the future. I’m definitely one lucky woman based on what I saw.
I’m somewhat self-conscious about using his shower, especially since we’ve just started dating, but there’s something right about it that I can’t explain.
He brought back stuff he borrowed from Gretchen, found a new toothbrush for me to use, then kissed me and said he’d see me downstairs.
Instead of luxuriating beneath the rainfall shower heads he has, I rush through bathing myself.
Once I dry off and dress, I brush my teeth, fix my hair, then use the moisturizer I carry in my purse on my face, grateful that I keep some things with me at all times ‘just in case’.
After cleaning the bathroom, I straighten the bed and fluff the pillows since we fell asleep on the top of his comforter. Satisfied that it looks as good as it did when we entered last night, I head downstairs for breakfast.
“I’m so excited about today!” Gretchen exclaims, rubbing her hands together.
“Babe, can you give her a chance to get some caffeine in her?” Doc asks, chuckling.
“Sorry, sorry. What’s your preferred means of jump-starting your day?” Gretchen questions, looking at me.
“Diet soda, usually, but if you don’t have any of that, I’ll muddle through,” I reply.
“So, no coffee, huh?” she teases.
“Love the smell, can’t stand the taste,” I admit as Mongrel comes toward me with a glass full of ice in one hand and my Diet Coke in another. “Ah, you’re trying to rack up points, I see.”
“Is it working?” he asks, leaning down to kiss my lips.
“Yeah,” I breathe out.
He chuckles then says, “Not sure if that was for me or because I brought you something you want.”
“Could be both,” I reply. As the drink fizzes over the ice, I sigh before I take a deep sip. “Gah, I should be able to function coherently soon,” I state, causing everyone to laugh.
“Let me grab you a plate, Addy, so we can make sure Gretchen’s list is complete,” Mongrel says.
“Oh, I’ve got one started,” Gretchen says, sitting down at the table I’m at, a pad of paper and a pen in her hand.
Mongrel comes back, laughing, as he sets a plate in front of me, before he pulls a fork from inside his cut.
At my raised brow, he shrugs. “Didn’t wanna drop the plate.
” Looking at Gretchen, he holds out his hand as he sits down next to me.
“Let me see it.” She grumbles but hands it to him.
He then pulls out his phone, and I see him open his Notes app before he starts writing items on the list she started.
“Gretchen, I’m setting up a damn spreadsheet for you,” he murmurs as he goes back and forth from her list to his notes, continuously writing stuff down.
“In fact, doesn’t the club have a membership to Costco or Sam’s? Something like that?”
“Both, actually,” Doc replies. “Why?”
“Because it would be more cost-effective for her to buy some of this in bulk,” he says. “Outside of the fresh strawberries she gets from Herb, I think it would be cheaper to get the cake mixes and other ingredients from one of those two places.”
“Oh, if you’re going to Costco, can I come with you?” I ask. Looking at Gretchen, I say, “I’ll still help when we get back, of course, but I saw something on my social media and Costco’s the only place it’s being sold at.”
“It’ll give me time to make some cake pops for the next farmer’s market,” she replies. “Then, we can play with the strawberry cheesecake shooters!”
“I always forget how awesome this place is,” I say as we walk through the doors after Mongrel shows the membership card.
“Let’s grab what you wanted so you don’t forget,” he replies, holding my hand with one of his while he pushes the cart with the other.
“It’s over in the Christmas section,” I tell him, looking overhead at the signs for the seasonal items.
“They have Christmas stuff out already? Really? Seems kind of early,” he states.
“Not for crafty things,” I reply as I spot the aisle I’m looking for. “Over there!”
When we get to the aisle, I’m blown away.
I’ve been playing with some diamond art things, and they have a kit that makes twenty-four ornaments.
The kits use gold beads and pearls, and they sparkle.
I can already picture them on this year’s tree.
Smiling, I grab one, then see a wreath that has LED lights that wind around it once it’s done and know it’ll be gorgeous on my front door.
Popping that in the cart as well, I turn to him and say, “Okay, now we can get what’s on your list.”
Thirty minutes later, we have everything on the list, along with a few other odds and ends that we each found and we’re standing in the checkout line.
Since my purchases are far less than what he’s getting for Gretchen, I’m first and I grin when I see how much I’m saving.
Then, I put my debit card into the machine and… nothing.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, it was declined,” the clerk announces.
“What? That’s impossible, my direct deposit just hit on Friday! Can we try it again?”
“Sure,” the clerk replies, shrugging.
It happens again and I feel my face heat in embarrassment. “Let me get it, Addy, it’s probably a computer glitch or something,” Mongrel says. “Can you add this and I’ll get it all at once?” he asks the clerk.
“Fine by me.”
I box the items up as the clerk pushes them down the conveyor belt, my mind racing at what could’ve possibly happened.
I know for a fact my paycheck hit, because I paid all my monthly bills that were left, transferred money to my savings account and money market account, and still had quite a bit left.
It’s amazing how much wiggle room I now have since my student loans and car are paid off.
Still, having my card declined has the little girl who remembers those days crying.
Too many times, as a child I would watch as my mother put things back until she was able to pay for whatever she was trying to buy.
More often than not, though, we left the store with nothing.
I walk out next to Mongrel, silent and mortified. When we get to his truck, I try to help him load, but he insists on me getting in the passenger side. So, while I wait, I pull up my mobile app on my phone to see if maybe I screwed something up, even though I know I didn’t.
Betty made sure I understood finances. She eased me into it, of course, and I earned an allowance for the chores I helped her with, as well as the few she gave me, like keeping my room clean and setting the table.
Then, when I got my allowance, she explained that we always put at least ten percent aside to save, ten percent aside to give, and that would leave us with eighty percent to use for the things we needed.
As I got older, my allowance got bigger, and I became enthralled with how my savings account balance grew.
When I was given money for my birthday, I would divvy it up the same way, because it became a habit, and by the time I got my first part-time job, I was paying ‘rent’ which she turned around and gave right back to me when I graduated to purchase a used car.
“Where is it?” I mutter as Mongrel finally gets in on the driver’s side. “It’s gone, it’s all gone, how is that possible?”
“What’s gone, Addy?” he asks, looking at me.
“My money, nothing’s left,” I shout, turning my phone screen toward him. “How could it be there on Friday and gone on Monday?”