Page 115 of Beautiful Thing

I just shake my head. “Nothing. It’s nothing.” I don’t want to stir up stuff, and I certainly don’t want to give her anything to worry about. She doesn’t need to be in the middle of our mess.

“Layla!” she says sternly.

“Everything’s okay. I promise.” I give her hand a reassuring squeeze.

Sky crawls up into my lap, tucking his head against my chest with a big yawn. “Scoose me.”

“Looks like it’s someone’s nap time, huh?” The older woman chuckles, but when she does, I can tell she’s growing tired and weak as well. It’s time for us to let her rest, too.

As we’re leaving, I lean in for a lingering hug.

“Promise you’ll take it easy now.”

“I can do no such thing.” Then she gives me one more squeeze. “I know that Ansel hasn’t been good to you. But you’re doing an excellent job raising my great-grand baby. I’m proud of you, girl. So damn proud.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and hug her tighter. “Thank you, Grandma Dory. You have no idea how much I needed to hear that.”

45

LAYLA

Stumbling down the hallway, I button up the front of Archer’s shirt that I’m wearing.

I step into the kitchen where I find the man himself, leaned against the counter and munching on an apple with a spatula in hand.

What a sight to start the day.

He grins at me. “Good morning.”

I wrap my arms around his waist and smile up at his handsome face. “My morning could not possibly be any better, Lover Man.”

He sets down the spatula to grab a handful of my ass. “Well now I’ll just have to prove you wrong, Belle.”

Archer’s parents took Sky for the night. They said we needed to go on a ‘real date’. It was a very thoughtful suggestion and we couldn’t exactly turn them down.A happy, new couple would never turn away a kid-free evening, right?

The Brighton parents reserved a table for us at Matilda’s, the official fancy-pants restaurant of Starlight Falls. They even gave us a gift certificate to cover the meal. Dr. and Mrs. Brightonarethatinvested in the relationship between their son and me. They’re making no secret of it.

Archer and Ididtechnically show up at the restaurant last night. But we didn’t make it through dinner. Shortly after placing our orders, Archer grabbed the leg of my chair and dragged it close to his. Then he put his hand on my thigh, took a sniff of my perfume and moaned.

At that precise moment, our nice, respectable date was over for me.Sorry. I politely asked our server to pack up our order to go.

Then we hopped into Archer’s truck in the parking lot where I promptly unzipped his pants and performed some not-so-respectable activities right there in the front seat.

When we got home, Archer fucked me silly all over the house. This morning, I’ve got the sore muscles and achy joints to prove it.

“No wood-chopping today?” I ask him.

Chopping wood is a part of Archer’s daily morning routine. If I had to guess, I’d say it’s probably cathartic for him. He hardly goes a day without doing it.

A clever grin curls his lips. “I think I did more than enough axe-swinging last night.”

I bury my face against his chest and laugh. “It’s never enough, baby. I always want more of your axe-swinging.”

Chuckling, he lifts my chin and sweeps his mouth over mine. “More axe-swinging is on the way, then,” he promises me. “But first, I’d like to go out and get some fresh air. What do you say we grab breakfast and head down to a quiet spot in the woods?”

A winter-time picnic sounds romantic to me. “I’d like that,” I say.

We throw together some BLT sandwiches and Archer fills a tall flask with coffee to share. Then we tug on our coats and the towering lumberjack leads me into the forest.

---