“Thank—” My mouth closed at the black SUV parked in front of the house. “Company?”
He shook his head and parked the car in the driveway.
Ron, who I was convinced had magical powers, appeared out of nowhere to open my door. “Miss Aria.”
“Don’t bow.” I got out and shook my head. “Ron, if we’re going to get along, you have to stop bowing like I’m Queen Elizabeth.”
The corner of his mouth turned up. Then the wiseass bowed. “Very well, miss.”
“You’re as insufferable as that one.” I hooked a thumb toward Brody.
Ron retrieved a set of keys from his pocket and took them to Brody. Then with a nod, he disappeared inside the house.
“Here.” Brody walked over and took my hand in his, pressing the cold metal keys into my palm. “For you.”
“For me what?” I jiggled the keys.
“The car. It’s for you.”
My jaw dropped. “You bought me a car. A BMW. Without asking me about it first.”
“Yes. Is that a problem?”
And just like that, our two-day no-fighting streak came to an end.
Chapter Eleven
Brody
Her laughter greeted me when the flower shop’s door chime faded. I followed the musical sound toward the back of the shop, expecting to find her at the long wooden counter that held the cash register and a fresh bundle of blue hydrangeas. The only reason I knew they were hydrangeas was because of the little chalkboard sign beside it.
Hydrangeas $15/Bunch
There was a metal bell beside the mason jar of pens, and I tapped the plunger, then held my breath.
Marty came out first. The smile on his face dropped, something I’d never seen before because the guy always had a smile for me. “If you’re not here to grovel, I’d head to the door before she sees you.”
“I’m here to grovel.”
“Good.” He nodded. “Head on back.”
“Thanks.” I rounded the counter for the door, ducking into the workroom.
Aria’s smile, like Marty’s, dropped when she looked past the arrangement she was making. “Are you here to buy me a pony? An island? An island of ponies?”
“Not today.”
She picked up a rose from the metal table and stabbed it into the vase she was filling. Her hair was braided over one shoulder with wisps loose around her ears. Her brown eyes sparkled—angry, but I did love their fire. Her cheeks held a pink flush.
Aria was more beautiful than any flower in the world. Even mad, she was lovelier than any rose.
This was the first time I’d seen her in three days, other than small glimpses of her coming and going from Clara’s place or this shop. I took her in like a thirsty man standing before a clear mountain stream.
Three days. I’d finally cracked, said to hell with my pride and driven to the flower shop for just one drink.
Aria looked at ease and comfortable here. This was her domain. In just days, she’d made it her own. When I walked into a room, I could usually tell who was in charge. Last month, the shop had been run by Marty. Aria held the power now. And Christ, it was sexy as fuck.
She ignored me and kept working on the arrangement.
Plastic industrial buckets dotted the floor. Some had flowers. Most held discarded stems and leaves. The walls were lined with shelves, each crammed with empty vases in varying shapes and sizes. The long counter that ran the length of the room was littered with scissors and knives and twine and ribbon. Behind Aria, there was an opening to the cool room. The doorway didn’t have an actual door, just strips of thick plastic that draped from the frame to the concrete floor.
It was as messy and unorganized as it had been when I’d come down to finalize the purchase with the Backers. We’d sat at that very table, Clara at my side, and signed papers for this shop.
An hour later, while they’d probably been planning their retirement in Hawaii, my lawyer had been busy drawing up a different set of papers. An agreement between Aria and me, one that would ensure she’d never know exactly how much I’d paid for this shop.
“What are you doing here?” She took the scissors in her hand and cut the stem of a rose. The snap rang through the workroom like a sharp bite.
“You’ve been avoiding me for three days.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
I frowned. “I thought you wanted to have dinners together.”
“Then you bought me a car without asking.”
A car that had been in the exact same place since Monday. The Cadillac, red and gleaming, was what she’d been driving. It was currently parked diagonally on the street outside the shop beside my Jaguar.
Yesterday, I’d asked Clara what it would take to just buy the Cadillac. She’d informed me that their friend Londyn owned it and Londyn would never sell. Not everything has a price, Brody.
The car was a lot like Aria in that regard.
“I wanted you to have a vehicle. Something safe.” The BMW I’d bought her came with one of the highest safety ratings available for SUVs.
“People don’t just buy other people cars without asking.”
“You’re right. I should have asked.” That way she could have picked the color and style.
“And?” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“And, what?”
Her nostrils flared. “You suck at apologies.”
“I’m sorry.” I meant it.
“And?”
“And . . . you can have a different car if you want.”
Her mouth pursed in a thin line. “And you won’t do it again.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh,” she mimicked. “No more buying me stuff.”
“Define stuff.”
“Anything with a price tag.”
I frowned. “That seems extreme.”
“You’re an extreme sort of man. I trust you can figure this out.”
For the sake of ending her cold war, I let it go. Would I stop buying her things? Absolutely not. Especially when the baby came. But for today, I’d change the subject.
I took the envelope from under my arm and set it on the table. “I wanted to bring this by.”
“What is it?” She stood, walking closer to flip open the folder.
“It’s the deed to the flower shop and the executed contract.”
“Oh. Okay.” She picked up the papers, running a hand over the first page. “This makes it official.”
“It is official.”
She stared at the page, not speaking, as a crease formed between her eyebrows.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’ve never owned anything before. Nothing like this.” The fear in her voice pierced my heart. “What if I screw it up?”
“You won’t.” I put a hand on her shoulder, nudging her to turn. When her eyes tipped up to meet mine, the worry in her gaze made it hard to breathe.
She shouldn’t worry. She shouldn’t have fears. Aria deserved an easy life. I’d make sure of it, if she’d just let me.
“I won’t let you fall.”
“You say that and it’s sweet. But you don’t get it.”