Page 53 of Forsaken Trail (Runaway 4)

I grimaced. It physically pained me to think of Aria and Clara living with mice and rats. When I’d been fifteen, I’d lived at a private school in New Hampshire. My biggest fear hadn’t been vermin or scrounging up enough money to buy a loaf of bread. I’d concerned myself with more trivial matters, like teenaged girls and acne.

“I don’t like that you had to go through that.”

“Me neither,” she admitted. “But it wasn’t that bad. I learned how to grow plants there. Clara made us these little bedrolls and shelves out of yellowed and torn books she bought for a dime at the thrift store. It became home.”

And now my home was her home. “Thank you, Aria.”

“You keep saying that.”

“Because it deserves to be said more than once.”

“You’re welcome.” She pressed a hand to her belly. The gray sweater she was wearing was loose and had been draped over her midsection earlier. But now that she was leaning back, I could see the faintest swell to her belly.

That was my baby in there. Mine.

“Think we’ll survive this?” she asked. “Living together. Having a baby.”

I took in her profile, studying the tip of her nose and the pout of her lips. Yeah, we’d survive it. If I could find a way to keep from sc

rewing it up. Namely, by dragging her back to my bed.

Survive it?

“I hope so.”

Chapter Ten

Aria

Welcome Floral.

The letters etched in gold on the door’s glass panel smiled at me as Brody twisted the key in the lock and we stepped inside. Above our heads, a bronze bell shaped like a lily of the valley bloom dinged.

“First impression?” Brody asked quietly.

“Not bad, Carmichael. Not bad.”

The air, infused with a clean floral fragrance, wrapped me in a warm hug as the door closed behind us. The humid air plumped my dry skin. The greenery and bright colors were like taking in a long-lost friend.

I’d bought this place.

Welcome Floral.

This was mine. Or would be one day after a string of payments to Brody.

“You really like it?” he asked at my side. There was a wary look on his face, like he was scared I’d hate it and call this entire thing off.

But I wasn’t a quitter.

And Welcome Floral was my dream come true.

“It’s charming.”

The garden gnomes beside a large potted hosta had smiles and pink cheeks. One winked at me. Another showed me his butt cheeks. The glass display case was filled with arrangements and bouquets. I preferred clean, tight bundles to wild sprays and billowing greens, but while they weren’t exactly my style, they were tasteful and bright and balanced.

An old window with foggy glass panes and a chipped frame hung above the display table to my right. A rusty bicycle dangled above the table to my left. Tin cans surrounded table legs. An antique chair held a bouquet of peach roses. The walkways were narrow and curved, forming a maze through the shop.

Shabby chic. That was the only way to describe the eclectic style. It was cute. Maybe a little cluttered, but as I’d told Brody, charming.