I touched his face. “So fishing is somethingyoudo withyourbest friend?”
“Subtle, Scarlett.” He almost laughed. “You know damn well that you’re my best friend. You werefishingjust now.”
“I was,” I admitted, shamelessly. “I like to hear it, but if anyone is great atfishing,it’s you.”
“I’m even better on the water.”
I ran my hand along his arm, stopping when I came to the wound on his elbow, ten stitches and a bulging egg. His thigh and back had long ago started to bruise. He was lucky that she hadn’t paralyzed him.
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
“Sore, but I’ll do.” He kissed my fingertip. “You?”
“Sore, but I’ll do.”
We both seemed to sayhomeat the same time, like a prayer, and then fell asleep before night even covered the earth in darkness.
Chapter Twelve
Scarlett
Burgess and Eunice O’Sullivan were married on the coldest day of the year. But the warmth that seemed to grow from their love seemed to warm all their family and friends. Eunice had no one but us, but it didn’t seem to matter. She had Brando’s family too, and one of her own—even if small.
Everythingisbetter with two.
After a beautiful candlelit ceremony, the smallish reception was held at O’Sullivan’s. The room was a mixture of Eunice’s side and a lot of men in blue who came to celebrate with Burgess. The entire party went off without a hitch. Brando even shook some of the hands that had arrested him. This made for good pictures.
Mr. and Mrs. O’Sullivan left in flurries of snowflakes, off to some swanky hotel in the city, before we all left for Primo Bruno’s first fight in Vegas the next day. Then it would be on to Europe for us.
We were on our way home from the party, and Brando kept looking over his shoulder. I felt a bit uneasy myself, but I had been feeling a roller coaster of emotions for the last couple of days.
Brando glanced at me. “A honeymoon. That’s enough?”
It took me a moment to look at him, steeped in my own emotions as I was.
Brando and my father had been in some sort of macho competition over who gave Eunice the best gift. We gave her and Burgess an all-inclusive honeymoon to Fiji, someplace warm. My father gave them enough money for a down payment on a house.
“Plenty enough, Brando.”
“You’ve been busting my balls all day,” he said, turning back to the windshield. “I thought weddings were supposed to make women happy.”
Had I been busting his balls all day? If I had, I hadn’t realized it.
“I cried,” I said, almost defensive. “It was a touching service. And I laughed at the reception.”
He sighed.
I sighed and turned back to the window, staring at the world as it passed us by in a blur and then sometimes in a slow crawl. When our brownstone came into view, I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or wanted to leave again. I felt terribly unsettled.
Brando took my coat when we stopped in the vestibule and hung it on the rack. I had worn a long, plaid dress with a black belt around my waist to the wedding, and I straightened it out before making my way into the kitchen.
“Hungry?” I asked as Brando followed me in. I opened the fridge and stuck my head in, searching.
He stood with his back to the counter, arms and legs crossed. “No, but if we get hungry, we can order in.”
“We have steaks and other things Eunice left.”
“You don’t have to cook.”
