Page 38 of Beautiful Thing

The thought of Kathryn flickers into my mind and my heart pinches for Archer. Whatever she did, scarred that poor man to the core.

He pauses to glance at me. “That’s what I meant when I said I don’t want someone in my space. I don’t want any old relationship. I don’t want someone who’s not going to take me seriously. I don’t want justanywoman. I only want the one.” His words carry so much conviction. “If it’s not the real fucking thing, then I don’t want it.”

Holy crap. That’ssohot. Why’s that so fucking hot?

“I…um, I see…” I finally stutter again.

His dark eyes narrow under lowered brows when he glances at me.“Basically, I’m just trying to explain that I’m not angry with you or with Sky,” he adds. “I need you to know that.”

“I…okay…” I pause to look out my window, taking in the snow-covered landscape as we pass through town. “So, if it’s not us, why are you so tense right now? Is something wrong?”

Archer shakes his head, chuckling bitterly. “I guess I’m tense because I know my family is going to be harassing me all night about not having a wedding date for next month. I wish everyone would leave me alone about it.”

I think back to what Archer just said about relationships.If it’s not the real fucking thing, then I don’t want it.

I understand where he’s coming from—giving away your heart can be terrifying. But he’s such a good man. It would be tragic for him to spend his life not getting the love he deserves.

“So you’re just gonna be single…forever?” I question softly, my eyes flicking over to him.

Archer’s thick shoulder rises and falls on a shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe.” He pauses. “All I know is, I could never force myself to be with someone just for the sake of not being alone.”

I nod. “I had to learn that lesson the hard way. Being single will always be better than ‘forcing it’ with someone who’s not on the same page as you.”

“Exactly,” he grumbles, now pulling into a spot in his parents’ front yard.He hops out of the vehicle and he’s at my door, swinging it open before I’ve even unbuckled my seat belt. Then he grabs Sky’s diaper bag without even having to be asked.

I follow him up the walkway, watching this 6’5 military man marching into his parents’s house with an overflowing hippopotamus-patterned diaper bag on his shoulder.

I bite back my smile.

14

LAYLA

Once we’re inside the house, we’re swept up in a sea of hugs and greetings. There’s so much love and laughter filling the Brighton dining room that I quickly forget all about my discomfort.

In fact, everyone seems to be in high spirits, reunited after the older Brighton generations were out of the country for so long.

Nolan, Inez and Stella got here just in time, rambling that they almost couldn’t make it because of Inez’s busy acting schedule. It’s hard for her to plan ahead whenever she’s in the middle of filming a new episode of her TV show.

Nicky is cuddled up to Ronan, after he’s been on the road playing hockey for a few days. They’ve been attached at the hip since the moment they walked in.

Karli and Ziggy are chatting with Daphne about her wedding plans. Meanwhile Darius and Felix throw bread rolls at Mason’s head and earn dirty looks from their grandma.

Yup. The Brighton siblings—or the Brighton Six, as I’ve always called them in my head—are up to their usual shenanigans.It’s the perfect distraction from my messy life.

Everyone is warm and inviting with Sky and me, and they don’t seem concerned in the slightest about my chaotic personal affairs. They’re too busy goofing around and giving each other crap. No judgment here; just love. And the family dinner is going way better than I expected.

Most importantly, no one questions why I showed up here with Archer or why he’s holding my son’s diaper bag in a death grip. Instead, Dr. Brighton just brings an old highchair down from the attic and places it in the spot right between Archer and me. Like it belongs there.

“Come on, sweetie. Have a bite of your carrots. Please. Just one,” I beg quietly when Sky refuses to eat his vegetables.

“No!” Sky declares, folding his arms and turning his squishy little face away from me.

I sigh. The word ‘no’ is definitely one of his favorite responses this week.

I scoop a bit of creamed broccoli onto the spoon and stretch it out to him, trying to negotiate again. But my strong-willed toddler is not budging.

The back and forth goes on for a while before Archer intervenes, taking the lead on the vegetable negotiations and putting his military intelligence training to use.

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