Page 66 of Beautiful Thing

My laughter dies in my throat at the suspicious look on Nolan’s face.Oops!

Archer and I are supposedly in a hot and heavy relationship. I probably shouldn’t have implied that we haven’t been sharing a bed. I’m doing this fake-girlfriend thing all wrong.

“It’s yours, then,” Nolan declares on a forced chuckle, his distrustful gaze bouncing between his brother and me.

After a long day at the hardware store, Archer drove us over to the daycare center where I picked up Sky. Then together, we all headed off to Inez and Nolan’s place.

I pretend not to notice Nolan’s assessing expression as I make my way through the obstacle course that is his hallway.“Wow. Thank you. This is adorable.” I slowly trail my fingertips along the dusty wooden frame of the small bed.

The entire house is a mess. Their contractor is starting work next week. Apparently, Raines-Montgomery-Jones Construction is the best in this part of the state. So Archer and Nolan are in the process of moving all the extra furniture out of the house. The guys are deciding what to store in the outdoor storage shedversuswhat to donateversuswhat to throw away.

Archer had to come over here after work to help Nolan patch up the roof on his storage shed. I tagged along to pick out whatever items I might need before they end up at the curb. On the drive over here, I scribbled out a wishlist of things I was hoping to find for Sky. A crib or toddler bed was at the very top of that list. Finding one now makes me want to jump for joy.

“It’s a great piece, isn’t it?” Nolan gives the crib a nudge to prove how sturdy it is. “It’s been in the family a long time.”

“Really?” I ask, even more in awe of the beautiful crib now.

“Mom says it used to be Archer’s,” Nolan declares.

My eyes move to the broodiest of the Brighton brothers who’s leaned against a doorframe nearby, his dark gaze blatantly swallowing me up.

When he looks at me that way, my cheeks grow hot. I drop my gaze from his, self-consciously tucking my hair behind my ear and fighting a smile.

Archer’s been his quiet, broody self all day, only speaking when absolutely necessary. But the intensity between us has been at an all-time high since that moment in the kitchen last night.

If you want to get something started between us, you need to make sure that you’re ready for the real deal.

Archer made it clear that he’s attracted to me.Finally.Now I know that I haven’t been imagining the pull between us all these years. Still, I’m not sure where his confession leaves us.

Now that Archer has explained the reason he’s been keeping his distance, I only feel more feral for him. But the sexy lumberjack was also clear that he has no intention of acting on his attraction unless I’m willing to make a commitment.

Here I am, willing to let him fuck the daylights out of me. Meanwhile, the man seems to be saying that he wants to claim my heartbeforeeven putting his lips on mine.

My lady parts are whimpering.

He equates ‘sex’ with ‘commitment’—which is deliciously noble. But that bar seems kind of high for a hot mess like me. Fake-dating thing aside, it feels ridiculously selfish for me to lock down such a good man in arealrelationship, to expect him to take on the massive burden that is my life.

Huh? How would that even work?

What Archer is asking for may seem pretty straightforward. But I don’t exactly have a lot of experience with relationships. Or, I should sayhealthyrelationships. How do I even decide that I’d like to pursue a commitment with him?

Am I attracted to him? Hell yes.

Do I think he’s the kindest, sexiest, handsomest, most amazing guy to ever walk the face of this planet? Yes. Yes. And yes, some more.

I guess the problem in this equation is me. This has to be a good deal for him, too. Am I able to give Archer what he expects out of a relationship? Hell—what do I even expect out of a relationship? What are the criteria we should be looking at here?

All I know is that relationships have caused me so much pain. The people I’ve loved have never been shy about expressing how disappointed they are in me. I’ve never lived up to expectations. I’ve been a letdown in so many ways. I don’t think Archer realizes that. What happens when he figures it out?

I have so many questions. And I feel like I don’t have any answers. Until I make sense of it all, he and I are still in this fake-dating limbo.

My heart pounds when Archer finally speaks. “Apparently, Grandpa built it for me. Then it got passed down to all my siblings. Then to Stella.” His hand smooths along the edge of the crib, the tips of his fingers brushing the tips of mine.

A spark shoots through me.

The tension between us has now morphed more into sexual tension and less I’m-not-talking-to-you tension, and I’m positive we both feel it.

I suck in a breath to center myself. “Wow. That’s amazing,” I marvel. Then I hesitate. “So it’s a Brighton family heirloom. It has history. I shouldn’t take it.” Sky can’t have it. This crib rightfully belongs to future Brighton babies. This family has already done so much for me. I shouldn’t abuse their kindness.

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