“What?” Battle called.
I didn’t know what, so I couldn’t answer him.
Carefully extricating my feet from under Bartholomew’s jowls, I stood, and my movement must have shared I was in the studio, because Prue looked my way.
She then started waving, not in a hello way, in a get-out-of-the-way way. Since I had no idea what way I was supposed to get out the way of, I didn’t move. And after a spell of her gesticulating wildly, she raced across the grass.
I got up and went to the door.
I opened it just as she came crashing in.
And that would be crashing.
And the crashing would be into me.
“Get down!” she said urgently and in a hushed voice.
But she didn’t give me the chance to get down.
She yanked me down to my knees.
I hit the floor hard, and that was probably one of the reasons Battle did an ab curl to sit up and growled, “The fuck?”
Bartholomew bumped his head on the desk when he lifted it to see what was going on.
The straight edges of Prue’s hair fanned out when she snapped her head to Battle then pointed at him. “Don’t move!”
“What’s going on?” he demanded.
But, as per usual with Battle giving everything he could to someone he loved, big brother didn’t move.
Prue dragged me to the side window.
I glanced in confusion at Battle.
I returned to her when I felt movement and saw her popping up so only her beanie and eyes were over the bottom edge of the window frame, then down, and up again, and down, then up.
I inched up to look over the edge of the window and gasped.
Christian was out there, crouched by a bush, stabbing some kind of long stick into the soil beside it.
Chassie was out there too, wearing a lavish sundress that was pink and had deeper pink flowers on it, was mega flowy and had lots of ruffles. She’d paired this with a wide-brimmed, straw hat with a corresponding pink ribbon tied in a big bow at the back.
Her hair was floofy under the hat, and Floofy was lounging bedside her as she did some pruning.
At this point, Christian moved with his sticks, acting like she wasn’t there, five feet away from him.
He crouched by another bush and dug the stick in.
Chassie shifted so he was in her eyeline.
Or she was in his.
I moved from the window and landed on my ass, whispering, “Oh my God.”
Prue landed on her ass beside me. “I know!”
“I don’t, so what the fuck is going on?” Battle demanded.
