“What? No, hold out your hands.”
When he did so, she started to pile small, individually wrapped sanitary napkins into his palms. He resisted the urge to pull away. “What’s this for?”
She gave him a sardonic look, and he felt his whole face blaze with embarrassment.
“No, I know,” he said. “I mean, why are we taking them? You don’t—I mean, you’re not…?”
Bree stopped shoving wrapped tampons into her pockets. “First off, whether I am or whether I’m not, it’s none of your business. Second, these things are great emergency supplies.”
Court muttered, “For you, maybe.”