Page 24 of Forsaken Trail (Runaway 4)

“How did you end up with it?”

“It’s on its way across the country, starting in Boston. Clara is going to drive it to California.”

“She is? When?”

Aria laughed. “I don’t think she’s planned it yet. Don’t worry. I’m sure she’ll plan her trip to coincide with your calendar and clear it first.”

“If you actually think she’d ask me, then you don’t know who’s really in charge. Your sister is the boss. And if you tell her I said that, I’ll deny it to the grave.”

“My lips are sealed.” She smiled, drawing a line across those lips. She hadn’t gone for a dark lipstick. They were a natural rose, shiny with gloss.

Her tongue darted out to lick her bottom lip before she took another pull from her flute.

My mouth went dry. My focus was glued to the long, lickable column of her throat as she swallowed.

Back away. Join the crowd. Survive tonight and forget Aria Saint-James.

That was what I should have done.

Yet when she looked up at me, with those beautiful eyes and tempting lips, every reasonable thought went out the window.

“What would you say to stealing a tray of champagne and getting very, very drunk?” I asked.

Aria smiled. “I’d say you were reading my mind.”

Chapter Five

Aria

“I cannot believe you stole those flowers.”

I giggled and set the vase on Brody’s kitchen counter, then touched the tip of a calla lily. “Look how beautiful they are. And they smell so good. I couldn’t leave them behind to be tossed out.”

“They’ll die,” Brody said.

“Eventually. But not tonight.”

First, they’d brighten Brody’s concrete home.

I’d been obsessed with the flowers at the reception. Whenever the party had shifted to a new ballroom, the centerpieces had changed to match the space. I’d dragged Brody from vase to vase so I could inspect the arrangements, smell their sweet perfumes and touch their silky petals.

On the way out, the temptation to swipe one had been too much. We’d been alone in the hallway and an elegant vase on one of the tables had called my name. So I’d carried it out the door.

Brody might tease, but I could have sworn I’d heard his kitchen whisper thank you.

The room was dim. When we’d come inside, Brody had only flipped on the blue-white lights beneath the cabinets. But it was enough to see that the inside of Brody’s home matched the outside. Cold. Drab. Hard. Everything here was a shade of white or gray or black.

The cabinets were a modern style with sleek silver pulls. The floors were wood but the planks had been bleached so the grains and striations were muted. The windows were so clean that the black night seeped through their panes.

The only warmth came from my flowers, my green dress and Brody himself.

In my champagne haze, I studied him with a smile as he walked to the fridge. His polished shoes clicked on the floor and the stainless-steel door opened with a puff.

“We’re in luck.” He pulled out a bottle of champagne. The glass was a green so dark it was nearly black. The gold foil label screamed expensive. Not that I was a champagne connoisseur.

Though I suspected I’d consumed my annual salary’s worth of bubbly tonight. The wedding had been an eye-opening study of extravagance. Not even the fanciest of weddings I’d seen at The Gallaway could compare.

The ballrooms alone had wowed. The flowers I’d taken were likely a thousand-dollar arrangement. It wasn’t the season for peonies and tulips. And Juliet roses were pricey no matter the time of year.