YOU NEED A LITTLE DISTRACTION

LAYLA

Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.

I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth.

A lone tear tracks down my cheek.

I am trying—and failing—to remain calm as I speed through the dark mountain roads on my way home. I’m anything but calm.

My thoughts are chaotic and my heart kicks around beneath my ribcage like a deranged boot. Positive thinking isn’t helping and I find myself bracing for the worst.

“Okay, Layla. Distraction,” I mumble to myself. “You need a little distraction.”

I try to think about something else—anything else—so that I can manage to get home in one piece.

But rainbows and puppies aren’t what come to mind.

Instead, I get flashes of dancing with Arnold Brighton. His soulful eyes. His masculine scent. And his beard—oh, his glorious fucking beard.

He’s my every dark and dirty fantasy come-to-life. A muscled, tatted former military man with rough hands and a soft heart that he hides behind that guarded exterior.

Crap. Wrong kind of distraction.

I can’t think about Arnold’s beard or Arnold’s muscles or Arnold’s smoldering permanent scowl.The man is my boss at the hardware store. My best friend’s big brother. And he’s already made it abundantly clear that he’d never be interested in me.

I just need to focus on getting home.

I speed up, gripping the steering wheel tighter as I approach a bend in the road. A car comes speeding in my direction, headlights nearly blinding me in the darkness of the night. With a gasp, I swerve quickly, somehow maintaining control of the vehicle as my heart slams inside my chest.

I lift my foot off the gas, allowing my car to slow just slightly as I continue onward.

I need to get home quickly, but I also can’t die tonight.Sky needs me. I’m all he has.

I decide to focus on work. We received a huge shipment of paver tiles earlier today. I’ll probably have to help Arnold with marking and labeling those in the morning.

My mind drifts back to the memory of his bulging biceps as he’d helped unload them from the delivery truck this afternoon. His muscular ass had looked mighty fine in his faded jeans as he’d hauled them around the stock room. My mouth waters just thinking about that.

Dammit, Layla, you’re doing it again.

When am I going to get it into my head? I can’t obsess over Arnold Brighton. Ishouldn’tobsess over Arnold Brighton.

Even though it happened well over a year ago, I still get fifth-degree embarrassment every time I think about that night whenArnold wordlessly made it clear he’d never, ever see me as more than a friend.

That should have been the last time I ever opened myself up to that kind of embarrassment. But somehow, I can’t seem to get it in my head that this crush is one-sided. At this point in time, I should be focusing on building a life for my son and me. That’s it. That’s all.

I pull into my yard, slamming on the brakes and creating deep ruts in the snow-covered gravel. I don’t even bother straightening out my crooked parking job as I stop next to the babysitter’s car.

In a blind daze, I sprint up the rickety steps and tear through the front door. The babysitter jumps when I burst inside, looking positively terrified as she cradles my little boy in her arms.

“You okay, Thalia?” I ask, out of breath.

The poor girl doesn’t deserve all this drama. She’s far too young to be dealing with this. And lord knows I don’t pay her enough.

Thalia is Inez’s foster sister. A sweet girl, who’s good to my son.Half the time, I feel like she only accepts my babysitting gigs because she feels sorry for me.

She immediately hands over Sky, and I can barely hear whatever she’s saying because my baby is bawling his little eyes out.

I wrap him in my arms, rocking him as I stand in the living room and try to soothe him. “Everything’s okay, baby. Mommy’s here now. Everything’s okay.” I kiss the top of his head.

Thalia starts rambling, packing up her backpack as she apologizes. “Oh Layla. I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t want to bother you. But I didn’t know what to do. I just…Should I have called the police?”

“No, no, it’s okay. Everybody’s okay. You did the right thing by contacting me and keeping Sky safe. Everybody’s okay,” I tryto convince myself. “Thank you, Thalia.” I give her shoulder a reassuring squeeze, and Sky continues to cling to me.

A door inside my house slams, startling all three of us.

A scrawny, shirtless man stumbles out of the bedroom—mybedroom—reeking of stale beer and flashing a crooked smile. “Hey there, baby mama,” my ex slurs.

And suddenly, I am definitely not feeling okay.