Page 36 of Forsaken Trail (Runaway 4)

“You too.” Andy backed away and, finally, turned and disappeared down a hallway.

Leaving me and Aria in the middle of a hotel lobby to stare at one another.

She did look awful. Worse than awful.

And beautiful.

I’d had a hard time getting her off my mind since the wedding. For two months, I’d done my best to return to normal life. Work had been busy and I’d used it as an escape. But in the dark hours, when I was at home alone, I’d find myself in the kitchen, wishing those flowers she’d stolen hadn’t died.

She’d been right. They had added some life to the house.

Her scent, floral and sweet, had disappeared from my bedroom the morning after she’d left. Ron was too good at his job at times and had washed my sheets while I’d been in the shower. But I could still picture Aria in my bed, sleeping soundly with the slightest smile on her face.

When I closed my eyes, her silky hair greeted me first. Then her eyes. Those molten, chocolate eyes with the fiery flecks. Next came her coy smile. The one she’d flashed me countless times at the wedding.

Aria Saint-James was impossible to escape.

And now she was pregnant. With my baby.

Pregnant.

I’d been playing that word in my head, over and over. Rolling it around. Testing its severity. For three hours during the flight, I’d mentally repeated it on loop. It was so . . . enormous. Eight letters that had changed my life.

The concept was too much. Too big. So I’d deal with a smaller one first.

“Who is that?” I nodded in the direction where Andy had disappeared.

“Andy is my boss.”

“He’s in love with you.”

“No, he isn’t.” She rolled her eyes. “He has a little crush on me. Nothing more. It’s awkward but temporary.”

Temporary. Clearly, she didn’t realize the depth of Andy’s feelings. Or that nothing about her rendered temporary. Aria had a lasting effect. She walked into your life and you struggled to remember what it had been like before you’d seen that first smile.

“Why did you come here, Brody?”

“You’re . . .” I gulped.

“Pregnant.”

That word was like a bullet racing out the barrel of a gun. By some miracle, my knees didn’t buckle. Hearing it from her lips, watching them form the word, there was no denying it. That didn’t stop me from asking a dumb question.

“You’re sure?”

“Uh, yeah.” Another eye roll. “Why would I lie?”

Because it wouldn’t be the first time a woman had tried. But Aria had moral fiber. She wouldn’t understand that a child with me meant the payday of a lifetime. “And it’s—”

“If you ask me if it’s yours, I will cut your balls off and string them on the Christmas tree.”

I held up a hand. “That’s not what I was going to say.”

“Oh.”

“It’s okay? Healthy? You’re okay?”

She dropped her gaze to the shiny marble floor. “I’m tired. I feel like shit. Probably why I look awful, as you so graciously pointed out.”