Page 3 of Beautiful Thing

“Whenever I stick my nose into your business, I’m just trying to be helpful,” I argue.

“Well, so am I.” She grins broadly, holding her hand over her head and pointing to herself. “Helpful, helpful over here.”

I feel the corners of my lips trying to twitch upward. But I refuse to give her the satisfaction of seeing me crack a smile.“Y’know what? I’m done being nice to you. Next time, you’ll clean your gutters yourself.”

I make an extra effort to keep my game face in place. But deep down, I know I’ll be cleaning those gutters before she even has to ask me.

I’d never leave Layla Cipriani out there in need of help, just to prove a point. Even if it’s a damned good point.

Chuckling, she folds her arms under her perky breasts. “Oh, come on. Don’t be like that!”

I force my eyes tonottravel to her chest. Even in her green work apron and loose-fitting jeans, Layla’s delicate curves are the ultimate temptation. Whenever I’m around her, it takes all of my willpower not to stare. It’s been pure torture now that we spend every day together here at the store. No wonder I leave here exhausted every single day.

The familiar chime of her phone rings out. Her body language flips from ‘laidback’ to ‘urgent’ like a switch.

She silences her alarm and hurriedly rips off her apron without missing a beat. Then she snatches her jacket off the hook behind the door. My stomach tingles as I watch her reel the teal blue scarf I gifted her this Christmas around her neck.

“Welp—I’ve got to go pick up Sky from daycare.”She quickly slings her purse up her shoulder.

My mood lightens at the thought of little Skylar. He’s growing up so darn quick and looking more and more like his mama every day.

With a nod, I hit the power button on the screen of my old desktop computer and rise from my rickety chair. “Yeah. It’s past time to close up the shop anyway.”

Layla starts backing away. Then she shoots me another grin. “See you at Nolan’s bar tonight?”

Before I say anything, her smile slips away, replaced by a look of guilt across her face.

“Thebar?”I question, my eyebrow hitched with suspicion.

Why would she ask about going to my brother’s bar? Layla usually doesn’t go out on week nights. Hell—as much as she struggles to find a trustworthy babysitter, she rarely goes out at all these days.

Then it hits me.My eyes narrow. “What is my sister planning?”

But Layla pretends to not hear me. I don’t miss her guilty smile as she quickly hustles off toward the back door of the hardware store.

Just before she exits, she looks back, calling over her shoulder. “Happy birthday, Mr. Mustache!”

And just like that, she’s gone.

I stand there, stroking my beard and staring at the empty space she just left behind.

This is a setup. Everything about this screams that it’s a goddamned setup.

But if there’s a chance that Layla might be at the bar tonight to celebrate my birthday, count me in. I’ll be there.

2

ARCHER

Istep through the creaky door of The North Node Tavern and instantly get a handful of confetti to the face.

There are nearly a hundred different voices ringing in my ears as everyone hoots and hollers.“Surpri-i-i-i-i-se!”

Coughing and spitting out bits of paper confetti, I stand there in the doorway. My eyes travel around the room.

There are balloons everywhere. And streamer-looking things. And a birthday banner that spans thirty feet, stretched from wall to wall.

Then I see it. A larger-than-life, blown-up picture of my face, hanging over my favorite table at the back of my brother’s bar.

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