Page 57 of Property of Bones

“I’m going to go hang up these dresses,” Abby calls sweetly, already halfway down the hall with an armload of fabric. “Sunny, Iadoreyour style. I’d love to design something for you one day!”

Sunny blinks. “I’m ninety-nine percent sure that man behind Abby is holdingevery dress I own.”

“Nope!” Abby chirps from around the corner. “Foster’s got another armful. Which closet, Bones?” she calls out.

“Mine,” I grunt.

There’s a beat of silence.

Then Sunny’s voice, high-pitched says, “Yourcloset?!”

Someone whistles in appreciation. “Everything’s so colorful. Like a Skittles explosion.”

“Where to, Bones?” another voice calls.

“Just set it in the corner,” I reply.

Sunny turns slowly toward me, her eyes narrowed in disbelief.

“Is that…my entire kitchen storage?Jack, did you pack my entirefreaking apartment?!”

I shrug, completely unbothered. “Nah. Didn’t have room for the furniture.”

Sunny just stares at me, arms crossed carefully under her ribs like she’s physically holding herself back from launching something at my head.

“Jack,” she says slowly, “did you seriously break into my apartment and pack my entire life into your house?”

“Didn’t break in,” I say calmly. “Tank gave me your keys.”

“Becausethat’sthe issue,” she mutters, pacing in tiny, angry, limping circles. “Not the part where you moved myentire kitchen, Jack. My office desk. Mytoaster.You took my toaster?”

“It’s a good toaster,” I say with a shrug.

“You brought my banana hook!”

Maverick walks by, snorting. “You have a hook just for bananas?”

“It keeps them from bruising!” she shouts back.

“She really loves that hook,” Abby adds, from somewhere in the house.

“I noticed,” I say, deadpan. “Should have wrapped it in bubble wrap.”

She turns on me like a very wounded, very furious kitten.

“Jack,” she says, voice tight. “You can’t just go and relocate a woman’s entire existence without telling her!”

I arch a brow. “You were drugged and healing from a broken rib. Figured moving would be easier while you were temporarily immobile.”

“Temporarily imm…Are you hearing yourself?!”

“Loud and clear, baby.”

She lets out a noise somewhere between a groan and a scream and walks toward the kitchen…only to freeze in place.

“I swear on everything sacred,” she whispers, glaring at Knuckles, “is that my bathmat?”

“Where to, Bones?” he asks me, grinning.

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