Page 80 of Quarter Miles (Runaway 3)

I wasn’t waiting months to tell our family we were having a baby. Besides, as soon as Carol realized I wasn’t drinking the bottle of wine she’d brought for me tonight, the secret would be out.

Our family hadn’t been thrilled about the fact that we’d eloped and excluded them from a momentous occasion, but they’d all been so happy to see Cash and me together, their irritation hadn’t lasted long. Plus we’d thrown a huge reception so they’d at least gotten

a party.

Besides Friday night dinners, that had been our only night out since returning home. Not only had Cash and I been savoring our extra time alone, merging bedrooms and closets, but he’d been consumed with work.

The training facility was up and running and for the past month, Cash had worked tirelessly to train his own staff as well as the new animals. Easton’s lack of communication with his brother had rubbed me the wrong way, but Cash had confronted him about it when we’d gotten home. Easton had apologized and ever since, there had been no question about who ran the equine center. No decisions were made by anyone but Cash.

I was proud of him for how hard he’d been working. He’d already been interviewed by a major horse magazine, and breeders from all over the Pacific Northwest were clamoring for him to see their horses.

He was as happy as I’d ever seen him. Energized and excited. We both were. But work wasn’t the best part of my day anymore. Coming home to Cash, sharing this life with him, was my dream come true.

“Okay.” I smoothed my dress down once more. “You go out first.”

Cash lifted my hand to his lips, kissing my knuckles, then gave me the sexy smirk that had brought us to the bathroom in the first place. He eased out the door and I counted to ten, hoping not to draw any notice when I joined my husband and the others downstairs.

Gemma was sitting on the couch, nursing the baby, when I reached the living room. “Your cheeks are a little flushed, Katherine. You weren’t doing something naughty in the bathroom, were you?”

“Shut up.” I sat beside her. “It’s not like you and Easton haven’t done the same thing.”

“Touché.” She peeked beneath her cover-up at the baby, her eyes softening at her son. “Your phone was buzzing while you were . . . indisposed.”

I reached for my purse on the end table beside the couch where I’d left it when we’d come inside and pulled out my phone. “It was Aria.”

“Call her back,” Gemma said. “We have time and I’d like to say hi.”

Aria answered on the first ring. “Hey!”

“Hey. You’re on speaker. I’m here with Gemma.”

“Hi, mama. What are you guys doing?”

Gemma smiled. “We’re getting ready for family pictures.”

“I’ve never done those before,” Aria said.

“Me neither,” Gemma said.

“What are you doing?” I asked, hearing what sounded like wind in the background.

“I’m on my way to Arizona.” She whooped. “Finally. Though I’m tempted to keep this car forever and not tell Londyn. It’s been so much fun to drive all summer.”

Aria hadn’t been able to get away from work for a while, but we’d all assured her there was no rush. One of her staff members had quit and with the busy tourist season, she’d needed to stay close to The Gallaway. Clara and her son, August, had visited Oregon and offered to drive it to California, but Aria had insisted on driving it to Arizona. She was committed to this handoff.

“Drive safely,” I said.

“I will. I have two weeks off and I’m in no rush. Clara’s asshole of a boss is going to be gone when I get there so that’s a bonus.”

Gemma and I shared a look.

Aria and I had talked often since my trip to Oregon. She’d also reconnected with Gemma and Londyn, bringing Clara into the loop too. The five of us had a weekly girls’ night video chat. It had originally started as a book club but after six chats where no one had mentioned a book, we’d called it what it was—wine club. Though I’d be switching to sparkling grape juice for the next nine months.

Clara hadn’t been able to make last week’s chat. Her boss had needed some last-minute help preparing for a trip to Europe. But Aria had been there and she’d spent the first ten minutes of the call reminding us that Clara’s boss—Broderick “Brody” Carmichael—was a prick. She’d even done the air quotes around his nickname.

Gemma and I suspected that Aria’s hate maybe wasn’t hate at all.

It was too bad Brody was going to be gone while she visited Arizona. Two weeks with the billionaire might have made for an interesting wine club chat.