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She slid the box free, carefully folded the paper, preserved the ribbon and bow. And finally opened the box.
“Oh!” She pulled out the gift, stared at it, eyes and mouth wide. “It’s a magic coat. It’s my own magic coat. It’s pink! It’s a pink magic coat. Holy shit! Holy pink magic shit, Dallas.”
“The pink was Roarke’s doing. You can’t hang that on me. I said brown.”
“I have to sit down. No, I have to try it on, then I have to sit down. Holy shit, you got me a pink magic coat.”
“Don’t blubber! Why is there so much blubbering today?”
“Thank God I used all waterproof, sweatproof, smudgeproof face enhancers, because I’m going to blubber. Dallas, wow. Just wow, it’s leather. It’s pink leather.”
“The pink’s not on me. Ever.”
“Holy, holy, holy shit. I can’t stop saying it.” She swung the coat on over the frothy dress. It looked silly with it, Eve thought, the military style of it over the party dress. But apparently Peabody didn’t think so. She twirled in it so the knee-length pink leather billowed and swirled.
“Oh my God, it’s beyond. Just beyond. It feels like leather. It is leather. It has pockets and pretty buttons. And it’s magic. and it’s pink.”
“I can’t go around wearing coats with internal body armor when my partner’s not.”
Peabody stopped twirling. She didn’t blubber, but a couple tears trickled down. “It means so much to me, that you’d have it made for me. For my safety. That all by itself means everything. But the rest? It didn’t have to be leather, it didn’t have to be pink. But you did that because you knew it would make me happy.”
“You get stunned or stuck or blasted, it’s pretty damned inconvenient for me.” On Peabody’s watery laugh, Eve sighed. “You’re . . . family. That’s it.”
Peabody grabbed her, squeezed. “Okay, okay.” Eve tapped her on the back. “Okay, okay.”
“I love you. People don’t say that to people enough, so I’m saying it. I really love you, and I’m going to let go in a second because I know it weirds you. But thanks. Thank you so much.”
“Okay.”
“I have to go thank Roarke.” Peabody pulled back. “And show McNab. Then I need to put it away safe. Is there someplace I can put it?”
“Give it to Summerset. He’ll stow it.”
“Right. Oh, wow. Just wow. I’m thanking you again right now by not hugging you again and kissing you on the lips.”
“And I’m saying you’re welcome by not putting a boot up your ass.”
Still wearing the coat, Peabody bolted out.
Eve took another minute. She really hadn’t signed off on the pink, but that was okay. In the big picture way, the color had been the icing on the Peabody cake, so it was okay.
Eve opened the door just as Charles Monroe and Louise walked up. “Hey.”
Charles did kiss her on the lips. “Merry Christmas, Lieutenant Sugar.”
“Merry Christmas. Hey, if I give you a present,” she said to Louise, “can I have a couple minutes to talk to Charles?”
“What kind of present?” Smiling, looking elegant and sleek in a shimmer of winter white, Dr. Louise DiMatto winked at her husband. “He’s a pretty special present himself.”
Eve stepped back, gestured them in. She found the gift bag for Louise. “This kind.”
“I was kidding, but I’ll take it.” Louise pulled out froth after froth of sparkly tissue paper, unearthed the handbag.
It borrowed its shape from the old-fashioned doctor’s bag, changed it up with the color of smoky lavender, the silver buckles.
The inestimable Tiko had polished it off with one of his scarves—deep purple, metallic silver, tied artistically on the handles.
“Oh, I love it! Dallas, it’s fabulous. It’s gorgeous—and the scarf is just lovely. Thank you.”
