CANDLES

ARNOLD

Today’s been a slow day here at Hammers and Hardware. On the bright side, it’s given me time to tackle my unending to-do list.

I’ve spent most of the afternoon up on a ladder, finally taking down the Christmas ornaments and replacing blown light bulbs. My employees have kept themselves busy with dusting and organizing and arranging the merchandise around the store.

Between ringing up the occasional customer, Layla’s been restocking the candies and candles on display at the front. And I’ve been trying my best to keep from getting a boner every time my eyes land on her.

She sings along with the radio, wiggling her shoulders and subtly shaking her hips. I can tell that she’s holding back the ‘big moves’ but even still, she’s sexy as hell. My head travels back to the night of my birthday party when she was dancing with me.

As fucked up as it sounds, I’d give my left foot for a legitimate reason to hold her in my arms like that again.

I stop my thoughts in their tracks.

I promised myself that I’d stop letting my mind wander away when it comes to Layla. She’s a friend, and after what she’s been through recently, I’m just glad she’s in a good place right now.

I like seeing her like this. Happy. Relaxed. Safe. I love being able to provide her with a safe space to be herself. That has to be enough for me.

An older woman approaches the cash register with a cart of houseplants and decorative items. Layla greets her warmly and the two of them immediately fall into a jovial conversation. The melodic sound of Layla’s laughter keeps pulling me in and I have to focus extra hard on maintaining my balance up here on this ladder.

When the door swings open, my eyes trail in that direction as a family of four bursts inside.

The little girl makes a beeline for the home decor corner of the shop, her shock of white-blonde hair flying around her shoulders.

Layla looks away from the customer she’s helping and offers the newcomers a smile. “Hello there. Welcome to Hammers and Hardware.”

The warm greeting doesn’t even get a nod of acknowledgment in return.

“Gwendolyn—don’t touch!” the mother cries out, a trace of panic in her barely controlled voice as she maneuvers a clunky double stroller through the narrow aisle.

Instant recognition sets in and I have to do a double-take.

At the sight of her familiar face, a wave of vitriol washes over me.Kathryn. Kathryn Campbell.

My insides coil up at the sight of the woman who broke my heart. The breakup happened eons ago but the stab through my gut feels fresher than ever. It must be my shock mixed with the lingering bitterness I’d almost forgotten was there.

A toddler boy wobbles along after Kathryn in his puffy snowsuit, wailing out for her attention. But she’s preoccupied with getting to her older daughter who seems to be on a mission to fuck some shit up.

And then, from my spot up on the ladder, my eyes land on the man Kathryn left me for.

Dan Rochester strolls through the store with a carefree stride in his steps. Like the king of his own world, hair slicked back, expensive watch gleaming, phone pressed to his ear. It’s as if the commotion these kids are causing has nothing to do with him.

Kathryn manages to grab their daughter right as the little girl is reaching for a huge brass Buddha statute displayed on a low shelf. “Gwendolyn! I said, don’t touch!” she repeats firmly.

The second she finally has the little girl under control, a loud crash rings out. My eyes follow the sound to where the toddler boy has knocked over a display of disposable batteries.

Kathryn throws her head up to the ceiling in exasperation and groans. That’s when her eyes catch on mine.Shit.

Her stare widens and her mouth opens but nothing comes out. Dan’s gaze follows hers. His eyebrows furrow when he sees me up on the ladder.

“Brighton?” he spits out my name as if it leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

Annoyance flashes through me and I do very little to hide it as I descend the ladder. “Rochester.”

He holds a hand out to me like we’re old buddies or something.

I walk right past him, bending to scoop up the batteries he just stepped over in his expensive loafers. I place the little packets on a nearby counter so they don’t get wet on the slush-covered floor.

Dan huffs out a chuckle. “You’re the last person I expected to see standing on a ladder in the middle of this old hardwarestore. Times must be real desperate if a bear like you is working in retail these days.”

What the fuck does he mean by that? Looks like Dan is still the same asshole I remember. Just like him to make some smart-ass comment without knowing anything about my life.

“I own the place,” I seethe, not bothering to look at his dumb face.

I won’t let his snarky bullshit get under my skin.

Kathryn lets out a surprised noise. “You own this store? Wow. That’s so great, Arnold. Impressive. Good for you.” As she speaks, she attempts to wrangle her son into the stroller and strap him down.

I feel eyes on me and I glance across the shop. Layla quickly turns her attention back to the customer she’s still ringing up. She’s doing that thing where she pretends to be minding her business when she’s really not.

But she has no idea. Her presence is the anchor that grounds me in this moment, even from the other side of the room. Having her close makes me feel like I’ve got someone on my side.

Meanwhile, Kathryn is trying to look cute, batting her eyelashes and taking a moment to discreetly comb her hair with her perfectly-manicured fingers.

Silently, I wonder how it’s possible for a person to look so expensive and so haggard at the same time.

She’s obviously got money—her hair has that extra, ‘rich girl’ shine to it, her running shoes look like some designer brand I’ve never even heard of, and if an asteroid ever wiped out the Earth, her wedding ring could serve as a small planet we could all repopulate—but beneath it all, she looks run down. And she seems starved for attention as she stares hopefully at me.

Dan throws his awestruck wife a glare and steps in front of her, human shield style. He folds his arms over his chest, lips downturned. “Well, I’m in finance. Mergers and acquisitions.Fortune 500 companies. Y’know?” he says to me. Like I give a fuck.

“Funny. I don’t remember asking,” I mutter, my eyes going to the little girl who is now trying to climb a shelf of insect traps.

Kathryn grabs hold of her daughter, scooping her off her feet.

“Anything I can help you with today?” I ask, more than ready for the whole lot of them to get the hell out of my store.

“We’re looking for faucets,” Kathryn says eagerly, struggling to keep a grasp on the little girl as she wiggles and kicks her feet in an attempt to get away.

It baffles me that Danstill hasn't intervened to try and calm his children.

Instead, he’s puffing up his chest and mean-mugging me. “We just bought a second house out here in Starlight Falls. We already have a great place in New York. But it’s nice to return to the backwoods now and then. To relax. To run into old friends who earn a living changing lightbulbs at the hardware store.”

Friends?That’s rich. Dan Rochester is hardly a friend of mine.

The guy was always arrogant, condescending, uppity with nothing but his rich daddy’s money to validate his existence. And when he stole my girl, that was the straw that made me want to pound him into the ground.

I take a step into his personal space and his face blanches. “You have something against retail workers?” I grind my teeth, looming over him.

Together with my small team of hard-working employees, I proudly serve this town, providing them with essentials, day in and day out. So Dan Rochester can shove his elitist attitude and his silver spoon right on up his ass.

I can see that he hasn’t grown the hell up over the years. It’s absolutely wild to me that he’s so concerned with trying to havea pissing contest with me when his wife is practically drowning a few feet away.

I’m about to tell him just that when a ringing sound slices through the air. “Excuse me. That’s New York on the phone,” he announces self-importantly, stumbling backward with a tight grip on his device. “You wouldn’t understand, buddy. Nothing ever happens in lazy towns like this. But New York never takes a day off. Not even on the weekends. Bet you don’t know a thing about that.”

He chuckles to himself as he turns on his heel and strides toward a quiet corner of the store.

He throws his wife a scolding look over his shoulder, nodding his chin toward the stroller. “Keep them under control. I don’t want to hear all their racket. Especially when I’m on a work call.”

What a fuckface.My knuckles start itching. Nothing would make me happier than sending a fist through this dipshit’s teeth. But I won’t get my knuckles bloody—not for Kathryn’s sake.

In any case, he’s gone now.

Kathryn scowls, shooting eye daggers into his back as he walks away. “Asshole.”

The woman is clearly disgusted by the very existence of her husband.

Shaking it off, she turns to me with a shy smile. “How have you been, Arnold? You own this place now? You look really good, by the way.” She rambles away, her eyes lingering on my beard.

What the fuck am I supposed to say to that?You look good, too? Nice meeting your snot-faced little hellions? We should catch up over coffee sometime?

Fuck that.

My gaze sweeps over to Layla again. This time, she’s wearing a worried look I can’t quite decipher. She’s slipping her customer’s items into shopping bags and handing the woman her receipt as she hurriedly wraps up the transaction now.

I force my eyes to return to Kathryn. “What is it you said you were looking for?” I ask pointedly.

Her cheeks go red when I dismiss her attempt at making chitchat. “Oh, uh, fau-faucets.” She chuckles embarrassedly.

The moment Layla is finished dealing with her customer, she takes tentative steps in our direction, nervously dragging her palms down the front of her faded jeans.

“You need a hand with anything, boss?” Big brown eyes shine hesitantly at me. Like she’s not sure if she should intrude. She has no idea the instant sense of comfort I feel as she gets near.

“Do you mind helping this customer out?” I ask, eager to get away from my ex. “She—and her husband—are looking for faucets.”

Kathryn jolts slightly at the reminder that she made her choice all those years ago. She chose Dan—not me—and this miserable-looking relationship is her life now.

She turns her attention to Layla. “Yeah. Faucets.”

Layla puts on her best customer service smile. “Any idea what style you’re interested in?”

“We’re, um…” Kathryn clears her throat and she straightens her shoulders, sizing Layla up. “We’ve been having a hard time deciding between chrome, brushed nickel and gold. And we might need some tiles for the guest bathroom, too.”

“Well, I’d be glad to help you out,” Layla says confidently. Her professional mask slips for a moment when she peeks at me. To see if I’m okay, I’m guessing.

“Thanks, Layla,” I say in a low voice.

Her eyes search my face. She offers me a tiny smile like she knows that faucet shopping with my ex and her douchebag husband is the last thing I need to be doing right now.

“No problem.” Her hand comes up, her fingertips momentarily grazing across my bicep.

It’s a slight touch that seeps through my flannel, all the way to the bone. I should walk away, but it takes me a second to pry my eyes off her pretty face.

“So, um, Arnold...” Kathryn’s mouth opens but I’m not interested in what she has to say.

I ruthlessly cut her off. “Excuse me. I’ve got things to take care of.” I head back up the ladder to continue taking down the Christmas decorations.

I don’t want to hear that woman’s excuses and if she’s determined to keep taking the conversation off on a personal tangent, I’m glad to walk away. I don’t mind losing the sale if that’s what it costs me.

I reminisce about my past with Kathryn and bitterness rises up the back of my throat. My mind takes me back to a dark time that I’d like to forget. Back then, I was a clueless teenager who didn’t know how to deal with the heartache of losing my first love. It hurt so bad that I didn’t know what to do with myself.

So I enlisted in the military like a broken-hearted dumbass.I ran away from Starlight Falls because it was the only escape from my pain.

This unexpected reminder of my history with Kathryn just reaffirms my decision to steer clear of relationships. Forever. Serving up your heart on a platter is a dumb fucking idea. And I won’t ever be doing it again. Thank god I know better now.

I’m forced out of my thoughts when Layla appears at the bottom of the ladder, peering up at me. “Hey,” she says softly.

I’m already climbing down to meet her. “What’s up?”

Looking concerned, she touches my arm again. With her hand on me, that bone-deep feeling of comfort returns.

“You okay?” she asks, keeping her voice low.

“I’m fine,” I say and it comes out a bit rougher than intended.

I guess I’m trying to convince myself that I’m not at all bothered by the presence of Kathryn and Dan. Even though I’vemade peace with the crap that went down between us years ago, I still don’t like the two of them waltzing around my place of business.

“I hate to do this,” Layla is saying, “but she needs help loading the stuff into the car and all the guys are on break. Do you think you could…?”

Where’s her husband?That’s the first question on my mind. But I hold my tongue. I’m running a business here. I need to push my petty feelings aside and act like it.

I glance toward the cash register where Kathryn is standing, eyes peeled in my direction as her kids scream bloody murder in their stroller.

“No problem.” What happened with Kathryn was a long time ago and I’m eager to prove to myself that none of it affects me anymore.

I follow Layla to the front of the store and load the purchases onto a dolly. Then I wheel the whole thing out to the back exit where a shiny expensive SUV is already waiting with its trunk popped.

While I load the items, Kathryn struggles to clip her kids into their carseats. Meanwhile Mr. Great Big Douchebag sits behind the wheel, carrying on with his phone call, not a care in the world.

By the time I’m done arranging the tiles into the trunk, Kathryn is standing beside me, wearing a soft smile.

“All packed up,” I tell her, and she steps closer, brushing up against my arm as she presses the button to lower the trunk door.

I take a step backward, my skin crawling at her touch.

“Thank you,” she says, and her gaze lingers.

I break the eye contact. “You’ve got your receipt?”

“Yeah…” she says, still looking at me all starry-eyed.

“Returns or exchanges are available within ninety days of purchase.” I announce the store policy in a robotic voice.

“M‘kay,” she breathes out.

I turn to walk back inside.

Kathryn takes a few steps after me. “It was great seeing you again, Arnold,” she repeats.

I just keep on walking. “I can’t say the same,” I grumble.

“Ouch!” I hear her mutter. But I’m guessing she can’t take a hint because she keeps on talking. “For what it’s worth—you two make a cute couple.”

That statement gets my feet to stop. I glance over my shoulder. “Who?”

“You and the girl at the cash,” Kathryn says ruefully. “Layla? That’s what her name tag says. Her name is Layla. She’s obviously a little young for you but still…cute.”

My heart gives a hard thump inside my chest. Layla and me? A couple? Ha! I fucking wish.

But I’m not about to stand here and discuss my unrequited crush or the pathetic state of my dating life with my evil ex-girlfriend.

“Thank you for your purchase, Kathryn. Have yourself the day you deserve.” I stomp inside, letting the heavy metal door slam in her face.