Page 54 of Beautiful Thing

Yet still, I’m dorkishly excited at the idea that she might smile at me, that she might enjoy all of it.

This is all part of the ruse. It’s all part of the game, I remind myself as I get into my truck, delicately laying Layla’s gifts across the passenger seat. It’s all a part of convincing the town that I’m in a happy relationship now. It’s about convincing the old ladies that there’s no need to play matchmaker or to stress over whether I’ll ever have love in my life.

The relationship with Layla is fake. It’s fake. It’s fake. Of course.

But the way my pulse is pounding as I drive back home? That part is very,veryreal.

22

ARCHER

When I finally step through the front door, I breathe a sigh of relief. Because from the moment I left Daphne’s shop, all I could think about was getting home to Layla and Sky.

It smells amazing in here and the sight of this beautiful woman in my kitchen, looking like she’s waiting on me to get home—fuck—it makes a spark ignite inside my chest.

Andshe’s wearing my shirt again.

Her music plays on low as she washes the dishes.She turns and grins at me over her shoulder. “Hey, Lover Man.”

“Lover man? Seriously? What kind of nickname is that?” I grumble in protest. What I’d never admit is that just hearing her call me that has the blood in my brain heading southward.

“It suits you,” she insists with a wink. “Trust me on that.” Her eyes widen with curiosity when she spots the items in my hands. “What is all that?”

The tips of my ears tingle. Yeah—I’m fucking blushing as I stretch the bouquet and the shopping bags out to her. “Long story. Let’s just say, the news of our ‘relationship’ has started getting around town.”

She turns off the water and quickly dries her hands with a dish towel. When she eagerly digs into the shopping bag and finds her new dress, her eyes bulge from their sockets.

“This is the dress I—oh my—how did you—? I can’t believe you—Oh shit—Daphne, right?”

Her frazzled reaction makes me chuckle low in my chest.

Her gaze springs to mine and she finally strings a coherent sentence together. “You didn’t have to do this, Archer!”

I shrug, keeping an impassive expression while internally loving her reaction. “Of course I had to. The local ladies have very high expectations of me as a boyfriend.”

A laugh bursts out of her, but she quickly covers it with her palm. “Oh, poor you. I hope this fake relationship doesn’t bankrupt you.”

I throw my hands up in surrender. “So be it. I wouldn’t have it any other way. My fake girlfriend deserves to be treated like a queen.”

Layla grabs the bouquet and buries her face in the colorful petals, but it does nothing to hide her grin. “Wow—you’re a charmer. What do I have to do to get a guy like you in real life?”

Because we’re only joking around, I feel safe enough to brush her wild brown waves back from her eyes, tucking them behind her ear. “There’s nothing to do, pretty lady. You’ve got me wrapped around your finger.”

Layla brings her hand to her face, fanning her cheeks with her fingers. “Okay there, tiger. Let’s leave the Oscar-worthy performances for when we’re out in public. No point in making me swoon when there’s no audience here to see you wooing me.”

Right.

Layla trails a finger along a pink petal, all twinkly-eyed. “I’ve never been given flowers before.”

I blink in surprise. “Never?”

“Well, no.” She says it like it should be obvious.

But to me, it just feels wrong. She deserves pretty things. All the time. And any man would be lucky for the privilege to give those pretty things to her. Any man would be privileged to be the reason behind her smile.

Because I’m a greedy fucker, I want to earn even more smiles from her tonight.

“Go try on the dress,” I order her.

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