The falling magnolia leaves danced around Bree’s burn scars as if they were part of them. A couple of the leaves nearer the soft pink scars were singed at the edges, with wisps of black smoke crawling off them. Dark greens were shaded outside the lines of the leaves, and the faintest of golds and pinks, too, but the tattoo was mostly done in shades of black and gray.
Though calling it a tattoo was wrong. It was a masterpiece.
A single magnolia blossom bloomed from the middle of the design, with jagged, broken leaves falling from it, all the way to the crease of the back of her knee.
There was a sudden tightness in my throat and a buzzing in my nose that I tried to wipe away with the back of my hand. Bree, sensing my distress as always, turned and met my gaze with her storm-gray eyes, and I reached out and yanked her to me in a fierce hug.
“Don’t ever run toward a burning building again,” I begged into her ear. “Or just don’t do it without me, if you do.”
She squeezed me tightly in return for a long moment, then pulled back and locked eyes with me before she replied, “I won’t. If you promise never to be in one.”
“I promise,” I vowed, a shadow of guilt shading my conscience.
I didn’t think she’d count buildings that had already burned.
“Okay, enough of that.” She grabbed the hat and plopped it back on my head, then looped her arm through mine. “What are we shopping for?”
I escorted her to my truck like the princess Liem said she was and opened the door for her. “Boat deck furniture to start with.”
She got into the truck, and I closed her in before quickly rounding the front end to the other side and gracelessly heaving myself in.
“Why do you sound like that?” Bree asked, her eyes wide at the dying animal sound I’d just made.
I cranked the truck and backed out of the short driveway. “Ask me if I even lift.”
“Do you even lift?” she asked, without missing a beat, her lips pressed together in amusement as she waited for my answer.
“I do now. I squat and lunge too.”
Bree hummed. “For the buns.”
I nodded solemnly. “For the buns.”
We passed through downtown Bay Springs, and I let myself peek wistfully at the gazebo as we went past it, wondering what Liem was up to. Instead of asking if Bree knew, I went with: “How was Miss Barb this morning?”
Bree looked up from where she’d been messing with her phone and sighed. “About the same, I guess. They used the word ‘hospice’ for the first time today. None of it is as clear-cut as I imagined.” She glanced at me with a grim frown. “Not that I ever imagined I’d have to care for her in this way—or this soon.”
My heart hurt at the tiredness I recognized in her. The kind that wasn’t just physical but emotional. Spiritual.
“That sucks, Cher.”
“Thank you,” she said simply. “It does.”
The rest of the afternoon passed by easily, both of us enjoying a couple of hours skirting around any and all heavy subjects as we shopped. We loaded my new outdoor furniture onto mytruck like a pair of badass bitches and then unloaded it just as smoothly when we got back to the boat.
When I dropped into my new lounge chair on the boat’s deck, Bree followed suit in the one beside me, her gaze wistful as she inspected the boat.
“Please,” I said around a groan. “Please tell me you didn’t fornicate on this deck.”
The witch just cut me a quick glance before pulling out her phone and ignoring me.
“The hell are you doing?” I asked with a glare.
“Googling ‘fornicate,’” she answered without looking up. “Wouldn’t wanna lie to you on accident.”
“OhGod,I take it back,” I groaned. “Please do not tell me either way.”
She hummed and shimmied her shoulders as she settled back into the chair and put her phone down. “Vinh and I aren’t married, so….”
