Page 26 of Forsaken Trail (Runaway 4)

A grin spread across his handsome face. “What would you change?”

“Oh . . . everything. But mostly, I’d add some life. Color. Texture. You do know they make paint in actual shades besides greige, right?”

“Do they?” he teased. “I’ll be sure to tell my interior designer. I bet your home is full of life.”

“You’d hate it. There are colors everywhere. And plants. Lots and lots of plants.”

He chuckled again, draining the rest of his glass. “Do you like your job?”

“I love my job. I like working with my hands and seeing things grow under my care. It’s satisfying, seeing a flower blossom and knowing I’m the one who planted the seed.”

“How did it start? How did you become interested in gardening?” He leaned forward, his gaze fixed on me. Brody had been like that all night. When I spoke, he listened. Intently. It had been unnerving at first. Now, I couldn’t seem to stop myself from talking because his attention was addictive.

“It started at the junkyard. It was so . . . dead.”

“Like my home.”

I laughed. “Yes, but in a different shade. Dirt and rust. Everything had this reddish-orange tinge. I don’t know why I got the impulse, but I was at the grocery store one day buying a loaf of bread, and beside the checkout stand, they had this display of packets. You know, the metal stand with all the seeds?”

He shook his head. “No, but I believe you.”

“Have you ever been inside a grocery store?”

“Once or twice.”

I shook my head and laughed. “God, our lives are different. Anyway, the packets were only thirty cents, so I bought three of them. I wanted to do something to make my little world prettier. I planted the seeds in an old egg carton and prayed they’d grow.”

“You gave it life.”

“I tried.” I gave him a sad smile. “It was a hobby. Tending my plants and flowers gave me something to do. By the time I left, Lou had enough to start a greenhouse if he wanted.”

“Lou?”

“The owner of the junkyard,” I said. “He let us stay there.”

“Right. The recluse. Clara never told me his name.”

“Lou Miley. I think I only spoke to him once or twice during the years we were there. He let us be. We did the same for him. But there was a fondness there, even from a distance.”

When Clara and I had left the junkyard, I’d replanted everything I’d grown and staged it closer to his home. I’d never forget the look on Lou’s face when he spotted the pink flowers I’d left right outside his door. He gaped at them, shocked, and maybe a little bit proud.

I liked to think that he’d watered those flowers after I’d left. That he’d realized it had been the only thing I could give him as a token of my appreciation.

I’d given him the lives I’d grown as thanks for saving mine.

“Enough about that.” I waved the topic away. I didn’t think about the junkyard often or, even more rarely, the miserable years before. And tonight, I was enjoying myself too much to rehash the past.

Besides, it wasn’t like Brody actually cared. I suspected this charm was his way of humoring me. His own token of appreciation for accompanying him tonight.

“You work at a hotel,” he said.

“I do.” I nodded. “The Gallaway. It’s beautiful. Different than the hotel we were at tonight, but no less exquisite. It’s right on the coast. I get to work with the ocean waves as my soundtrack and the smell of salt and sand in the air.”

“You love your home. You love your job. What else should I know about you, Aria Saint-James?”

That maybe I don’t hate you. “One day, I’d like to have a flower shop and a greenhouse of my own. I’d like to make bouquets like that one and keep growing plants.”

It was a secret I hadn’t told anyone, not even Clara. I didn’t set many goals. I didn’t think too far into the future. Because it was too easy for dreams to be stolen. Better they stay locked away.