Page 17 of Beautiful Thing

I don’t need a guy my age, anyway. I may be twenty-six, but between work, responsibilities, and parenting, oftentimes, I can relate a whole lot more to my friends in their thirties.

Like Archer, someone in the back of my mind whispers.

“Dammit, Layla. Stop,” I mutter to myself. Archer doesn’t want me. I should know that by now.

The sad truth is, I’m just single and lonely and horny. And that’s what I’ll be for the foreseeable future.

Another angry message comes in from Razor. But I set my phone down and chase after Sky before getting down on the floor and building a tower of blocks with him.

My chest aches at the adorable sound of my little boy’s laughter. I lean in and kiss the top of his head.How wicked do you have to be to kick your own kid out on the streets?

Razor doesn’t have to like me, but I never thought he’d be so cruel to Sky. His own flesh and blood. Our child is innocent in all this. He doesn’t deserve this.

I wonder now what the heck I ever saw in Razor. Was I blind?

All I know is that, no matter how much he acted up, I always went above and beyond to compensate for his behavior. That’s all I knew. It’s what I saw my own mother do. I grew up believing that it was a woman’s job to atone for her man’s actions. To keep the household together, at all costs.

So that’s what I did.

I think I would have gone on living that way for years and years.

But everything changed when Razor almost let our son die. I still can’t believe he got black-out drunk and basically left an infant on the floor to fend for himself for hours. Anything could have happened. If that wasn’t bad enough, his decision to jump behind the wheel in his intoxicated state and drive our son around town still gives me the shivers to this day. I’m just glad Karli happened to be at the clinic that afternoon and she was able to take my little boy to the hospital in my absence.

It’s a miracle that Sky wasn’t hurt or taken by protective services. The incident was a brutal wakeup call that my biggestallegiance would always be to my son, not to his grown-ass,adult-babyfather.

Now, I’m ready to put all this behind me. To put Razor behind me once and for all.

As the hours wind down, I’m exhausted. I feel like I’ve lived at least three days in just today.And yet, I can’t even list a single thing I accomplished. Unless getting out from under Razor’s thumb counts.

By seven o’clock, a worn-out Sky is already fed and tucked into bed. I’m just now sitting down to continue the rental search that I started a few hours ago.

Archer’s flannel shirt is draped over the arm of the couch. My fingertips trail over the rough fabric before I pick it up and bury my nose in the coarse threads. My lungs fill with the scent of him, a smoky combo of pine cones and deodorant and crisp mountain air. I let out a long sigh. Fuck. The shirt smells as delicious as its owner does.

I hesitate for only a moment. Then I slip my arms through the sleeves, pulling the oversized garment around my body and fastening the buttons at the front.

Warmth rushes over me and for a second, I allow myself to imagine that I’m in Archer’s arms. Wrapped up. Squeezed tight. Safe and secure.

With a smile on my face, I nibble on warm, leftover fruit from Sky’s lunch bowl as I begin to scroll through rental listings.

The distinct sound of a key slipping into the lock grabs my attention. A second later, Archer comes through the front door after a long day of work. He kicks off his boots at the door.

My stomach tightens at the mere sight of him. I bite down on my lip to catch the sigh that almost slips out.My gosh.

I’ve had a crush on Archer Brighton since I was a kid. Since before it was even socially acceptable. Here I was, barely even a teenager. And therehewas, coming home between militarydeployments with his muscles, with his tattoos, and with his closely-cropped haircut.

He was just allman.And so far out of my league, I didn’t even bother.

Archer’s changed since then, but somehow he’s even sexier than he was in his twenties. He’s so big, and handsome, andgood.Archer Brighton isjust a good freaking man.

There are males like Razor who can barely even manage to get themselves dressed for the day.

Then there are men like Archer.Realmen.

He spent the whole day at work, handling the store without my help, and not once did he complain about it. Instead, he went above and beyond for Sky and me, checking in throughout his shift to make sure we were okay.

“Hey,” Archer says now, his eyes finding me as he strolls in with a grocery bag tucked under each arm.

“Hey yourself. Did you have a good day?” I ask, twisting on the couch to watch him shuffle across the room.

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