Page 114 of Broken Saint

Quickly wrapping a towel around myself, I rush toward the door and pull it open, expecting to find Letty on the other side.

“Oh crap,” I gasp when instead of my best friend, I find a young and totally mortified delivery man. "Sorry,” I mutter, attempting to adjust my towel to cover up, well, everything.

“Delivery for Miss Ella Myers?” he asks, looking everywhere but at me. Dude can’t have had his driver’s license all that long, and here I am practically flashing him.

“Yeah, that’s me.”

I take the box he thrusts at me, and the second he can run, he does.

Shaking my head at the poor kid, I kick the door closed and carry the box to the counter.

It’s massive, but also not very heavy.

With my brows pinched, I pull the lid off and find a note.

Bombshell,

I loved waking up with you in my bed this morning.

Thought I owed you some new ones, seeing as I keep stealing yours.

Don’t forget, I want to come home to you tonight.

Yours,

Colton.

My heart rate picks up and my hand trembles as I hold the note.

Yours.

Fuck, how I hope that’s true.

Placing it on the side, I pull the tissue paper aside to reveal the contents.

“Oh my god,” I gasp when a La Perla box stares up at me.

All my life I’ve yearned for La Perla lingerie, but I have never been anywhere close to being able to justify the price.

Ripping the lid off, I dive in, desperate to see what he’s chosen for me.

By the time I’ve emptied the box, I have tears streaming down my cheeks, completely overwhelmed with what I’ve just experienced.

All of the lingerie is beautiful. Not that there was any doubt it would be. But the size and the styles he chose are perfect. They’re exactly what I would have picked for myself.

Sniffling, I lift the ivory box from the cushion of tissue. I’m about to begin packing it all away when another wrapped gift catches my eye.

Unwrapping it quickly, I can’t help but laugh when I find a pair of Saints-blue panties. They’re nothing special, not like I’ve already unpacked, but the second I turn them around, I understand their importance.

Rogers #42 is stamped on the back.

I’m still laughing when the buzzer rings again, only this time I check the peephole before throwing the door open and letting the person beyond discover what a mess I am.

“Oh my god, what is going on?” Letty asks after studying my smiling yet tear-stained face.

I shrug. “It’s just Colt. Come on.”

I drag her over to the lingerie strewn over his island bench and let her see for herself.