Her palm shakes on the way to covering her gaping mouth. “Is there medication you can take?”
I shrug. “When this happened before, ice and aloe vera did the trick.”
She’s already rushing toward the freezer, dumping cubes into a bowl. Her free hand grabs a wrapped gift from the table before snatching a green bottle from the cabinet. A jerk of her chin suggests I haul ass to the front door.
My feet remain firmly planted. “Let me help you carry stuff.”
Bianca recovers from her upset. The concern is replaced with a scowl as if I personally offended her bubble of chaos. “Outside, Stalker.”
I’m nothing if not willing to fulfill her desires. We step onto the porch between the two stone pillars that stretch to the roof. Benson Farmstead is a work of rustic art. My gaze appreciates the sprawling view of sun-dappled pastures and fallen leaves. Spud is playing tag with the other dogs while I’m herded to an oversized deck chair. The cushion cradles my ass, which thankfully isn’t inflicted with this awful itching. It’s too quiet as I stare at the pups across the manicured lawn. A glance at Bianca finds her frozen and gawking at my back.
My smirk is rewarded with a glare. “How’s it look?”
“Like you were attacked by a hive of rabid bees.”
“Do bees contract rabies?”
She dumps the contents from her arms onto the lounger beside me. “Not the point.”
“Just tryin’ to make conversation.”
“We can talk about how I ruined your birthday,” she mutters.
“Princess,” I chide. “That’s the opposite of what you did.”
Her eyes roll. “Let me find you a mirror and see what you think.”
“C’mere.” I tug her in front of me, caging her curves between my splayed thighs. “Believe it or not, just celebrating the fact that it’s my birthday is more than anyone has done for me since I can remember.”
Her slim shoulders hunch. “But I wanted it to be special.”
“Trust me when I tell you that it is. We’ll never forget the day I had an allergic reaction after licking chocolate off your breasts.”
Bianca stifles a laugh between her pressed lips. “I suppose. Are you able to open your present?”
As if she even needs to ask. I’ve been staring longingly at the wrapped box since she set it down next to us. Birthdays weren’t acknowledged growing up. Christmas was a date to earn our keep by stealing from others. We never received a gift. That means I’d pop every blister on my palms to see what she got me.
I tear through the paper slowly, wanting to savor the moment. Bianca is jittery as I take my time. When I lift the lid, all the air whooshes from my lungs. Anything my wildest dreams dare to conjure can never compete with this.
The agony stabbing into my flesh is instantly forgotten. My fingers tremble as I unfold the crocheted blanket. It spills over in a woolly cascade. The size is massive—big enough to fit two of me.
There’s a quake in my voice when I ask, “Did you make this?”
Bianca quirks a brow. “Is that a serious question?”
I’d laugh at her regurgitating my earlier quip, but I’m too emotional. My vision is blurry. The sting at the bridge of my nose is foreign and uncomfortable. A lump expands in my throat until it’s hard to swallow.
“Incredible,” I manage to croak.
“Oh, no. Don’t you dare.” She fans my eyes. “You cannot cry.”
I sniff in vain, mostly for her benefit. “Can’t help it. This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”
“Don’t let my brother hear you say that.”
“He’ll get over it.” I fondle the soft texture that’s priceless. “I’ll cherish this forever, Princess.”
Bianca kisses my quivering lips. “The color is for your eyes. A blue that sparkles if you’re willing to look close enough. Thereare a few dark flecks that speak of your past, but the light inside you conquered it. That goodness stretches far and wide like the ocean. The depths are bottomless but safe. I feel protected in those turbulent waters.”
