Page 23 of Beautiful Thing

Waking up under the same roof. Getting ready for our day. Riding to work together. It just feels right.

But as we cruise down the mountainside, we pass by Layla’s old house. I see the way her shoulders go tense when we spot Razor and a pregnant Janet both out in the front yard, laughing and dragging Janet’s luggage toward the house. He’s moving her in.Well, damn. That was fast.

I see the shattered expression on Layla’s face as she watches the scene play out.

She’s jealous.

I feel a sting through the chest. It’s a sting that reminds me not to lose my head over Layla. Because she’sstillnot over Razor. After everything he’s done to her, she’s probably still in love with that bastard.

So I’ve got to rein my emotions right in. Because the last thing I want is to be a part of another love triangle.

Been there. Done that. Lost the girl.

And it sucked. I wouldn’t be able to handle that again.

Once I finally recovered from Kathryn, I thought I’d learned my lesson. But here I am years later, tempted to repeat history with a different, but equally unavailable woman.

To make matters worse, Layla’s not just any woman. She’s my employee. She’s my roommate. She’s my sister’s best friend.

Which means I can’t afford to do something stupid.

Pushing my hurt back into the grave where it belongs, I train my attention on the snow-covered road. We may be stuck living under the same roof and working together all day, but maintaining my mental distance from Layla is the safest course of action here.

Losing sight of that could cost me dearly. And I’ll have no-one to blame but myself.

9

LAYLA

“Thanks again for chauffeuring us around today, Karls. You’re a lifesaver.” I lift Sky out of his carseat in the backseat of my bestie’s SUV.

Grinning, she steals my son out of my arms, propping him on her hip. “My pleasure,” she says. “Any excuse to hang out with my fave little guy.” She peppers kisses all over his face and he squeals with delight.

Together, we cross at the pedestrian crossing on Moon Trail Road and head for the farmer’s market. “Okay, one last stop before we head to the nursing home,” I promise her.

I couldn’t drive my car today. I haven’t gotten around to filling up my gas tank yet, and I feel kind of iffy about my tires, if I’m being honest. All that will need to get sorted out next week, but for today, I have a few things to do around town.

Karli’s been a good sport about driving me from place to place, but I hate monopolizing her day with my many errands. I know she has a lot going on so I really appreciate that she managed to squeeze me in.

I hurriedly purchase the cranberry muffins I came here for. I have every intention of jumping back in the car and getting outof the farmer’s market, but Sky grabs my hand and starts pulling me in the opposite direction.

Karli laughs. “You know better than to come to the market without a visit to Rainbow’s booth. Right, Sky?”

My little guy beams and pats Karli’s cheek in agreement.

Rainbow is the most popular vendor around here. She’s this mystical hippie lady with colorful hair, arms full of bangles and a heart of gold. Plus, her intuition is spookily accurate, something that probably runs in the family—Ziggy Beaumont is her niece, after all.

She lives right down the road from Archer and me, and my son absolutely adores her.

Truth be told, I love visiting Rainbow’s booth, too. Some of us pass by for the carrots. Others pass by for the broccoli. But weallshow up here for the piping hot tea. No matter the season, Rainbow is never in short supply of all the freshest gossip in town.

Strolling across the market, we catch sight of Rainbow. But instead of her usual good vibes, she seems to be nail-spitting mad today.

“Hey Rainbow,” Karli greets the woman who’s grumbling peevishly under her breath. “What’s going on?”

“Opal!” Rainbow grunts out. “The woman keeps piling her smelly garbage bags right next to my booth instead of tossing them in the dumpster. I’ve told her about it a million times but at this point I’m sure she’s doing it to get a rise out of me!”

“Well, that’s not very neighborly,” I say in sympathy.

---