Tragic (Lark Cove Book 3)

I’m here.” Kaine knocked on the camper door with three hard thuds.

“Coming!” I hopped on one leg as I pulled my foot into a tennis shoe. “One sec!”

“Take your time,” he called back.

I bounced over to the couch, sitting to tie up the laces. My fingers fumbled with excitement. Kaine was here to take me on a hike this afternoon and then I was cooking us dinner.

In the two weeks since my confession on Kaine’s front porch, we’d settled into an odd sort of friendship. Well, odd for me. I’d never been friends with a man who I’d had sex with after the sex had stopped.

But friends we were.

I cooked dinner for us almost every night. I’d told Kaine it was no hassle since I had to cook anyway, so he’d come over to my camper, or I’d walk over to his place and we’d share our evening meals.

He’d taken me on a short after-work hike earlier in the week, and we’d found some huckleberry bushes. I’d never had huckleberries before since they were native to the Pacific Northwest, but after trying a couple, I’d been inspired. We picked a bunch, and on my table was the pie I’d baked for dessert.

After my confession on Kaine’s porch, something had changed between us. Sexual tension still rippled between us when we got too close. Whenever we accidentally touched, the flying sparks were hard to ignore. But we both held fast to our nonsexual relationship.

What we’d found was a mutual adoration of good food. A love of this forest we called home. And the beauty of companionship.

I carried the bulk of the conversation, as I expected I would always do. Kaine wasn’t one to speak just to hear his own voice, something that Adam had done more often than not.

It was refreshing for me to talk about my work, to share my excitement with someone who was just as excited to listen. Kaine might not share a lot of details about his life, but he was a willing confidant for the details of mine.

His face would soften as I spoke. Whenever I was feeling particularly sassy, he’d gift me with his quiet chuckle. And his vibrant eyes were always on mine whenever I spoke, telling me that he was completely engaged in our conversation.

I had his attention.

And he had mine.

After dinner, the two of us typically spent the evening together. Usually I’d accompany him to his shop, where I’d watch with rapt attention as he worked on a piece of furniture.

It was easy to get lost in the fluid movements of his hands and the strength in his arms as he turned a plain, rough piece of wood into something refined and graceful. It gave me tingles when he’d narrate the process in his deep, sexy voice. He’d whisper to the wood, and to me, as he worked, his unique lullaby the perfect end to my day.

When we weren’t in his shop, we were inspecting my future home.

Kaine had taken such an interest in my remodel that he’d do regular walk-throughs with me to scrutinize the progress of my construction crew. One night last week, he’d found an issue with a window frame—something about it not being precisely level and how it might let in a winter draft. It had looked fine to me. But the following morning, Kaine had marched over first thing in the morning, his own level in hand, to have a word with the foreman.

I’d watched, laughing from my camper window, as my foreman followed Kaine inside. Ten minutes later, they’d come back out, shaking hands as the foreman promised to have the window fixed.

Kaine might not be ready to confide his past, but those little things told me he cared. They told me that this friendship was just as important to him as it was to me.

With my shoes tied, I swiped a baseball cap off the kitchen counter. It was a gift from Thea, one of the new red-and-white trucker hats she’d ordered for the bar.

“Hey.” I opened the door and stepped down. “Ready?”

Kaine’s forehead furrowed. “That’s what you’re wearing?”

“What?” I looked down at my clothes. I had on some denim cutoffs and a red racer-back tank top. It was also from the bar—I was basically a walking advertisement for Thea’s business. It was cute, and I hoped to get some sun.

It was the middle of June and summer had finally came to Montana. I needed the sun since my regular spray tans from the city were now a thing of the past, as were manicures and pedicures. I’d taken to doing those in my camper since there wasn’t a spa in town.

“We’re hiking.” Kaine frowned. “If you trip and fall, you’ll skin your knees.”

“Ah, yes,” I said dryly. “That is a risk. One I mitigated by not wearing high heels.”

Kaine’s expression didn’t change from underneath the brim of his own hat, though the corner of his lip twitched.

“I’ll be fine.” I smacked him in the stomach as I walked by, heading up the trail to the ridge. “Are you coming or not?”

He grumbled something under his breath, but his boots followed me up the trail. He was wearing his normal attire of Carhartts and a T-shirt. He also had on a small backpack, one he’d brought along on all of our excursions up the mountain. I didn’t need to ask what was inside since Kaine was becoming predictable. He’d brought along two granola bars, four bottles of water, bear spray and a first-aid kit.

If I did trip and scrape a knee, he’d whip that thing out and have me slathered with anti-bacterial ointment and wrapped in Ace bandages before I could count to ten.

“Nice hat,” Kaine said.

I stopped on the trail and turned, waiting for him to catch up. “Thanks. Thea gave it to me.”

He walked right into my space, towering over me, so I had to tip my chin back. We weren’t touching, but he was close enough that the heat from his chest warmed my bare skin. Or maybe that was the electricity crackling between us.

“You look good in hats,” he said quietly.

“So do you.”

The longer hair at the nape of his neck curled under the band. Those swoops were begging for some attention, but I used all of my willpower to keep my fingers by my sides.

My god, he had nice lips. His dark beard was such a contrast to the pale peach. My breath hitched as I remembered how it felt to have those soft lips on my own.

Kaine leaned in a fraction of an inch as the magnetic force between us tugged. It was tempting, so tempting, to do the same, but before I caved to the attraction, a bird squawked above us. The noise forced our bodies apart.

“Um . . . shall we?” I stepped backward, turning on the trail.

“Yup.” Kaine took up the space beside me as we walked. We both hugged the edges of the trail so we weren’t too close. But it was a narrow path, and the proximity of his hand to mine was noticeable.

The undercurrent between us was there, ever present and always flowing. It reminded me of the treetops today, and how they swished in the gentle breeze. They’d swing close to one another but just before they’d brush, the wind would ease and they’d whip in the opposite direction.

We continued up the trail until it got steep, and I took the lead. Kaine let me go first to set the pace. He took the hike to the ridge like it was a stroll through Central Park. I doubted his legs were straining or that his lungs were on fire. But the view from the top was worth breaking a sweat.

As we crested the trail, I breathed in the clean air, warmed up and ready for more. “Where are you taking me today?”

“I thought we could go east for a change.” He pointed in the direction of his property. “There’s a game trail that runs down the ridge. About two miles off, there’s another ridge.”

“Sounds great. I’ll follow you.”

He nodded and wasted no time in finding the path. It wasn’t as wide or clear as the trail we took up to the ridge so occasionally the brush would scrape against my bare calves. Kaine took it slow, holding those long legs back so it wasn’t too strenuous for me to keep up.

And though we were in dense forest, the view wasn’t too bad.

Walking behind Kaine gave me a great view of his ass and broad shoulders. Months ago, I would have sworn up and down that a nice rear end was impossible to beat. But Kaine’s shoulders were damn sexy. They were so big and brawny. They were so powerful and—okay, that’s enough.

I’d had my moment to drool and now it was time for my thoughts to head back to the safe zone.

I opened my mouth to drum up some friendly, boring conversation and distract myself from the way his triceps bulged underneath the tight fit of his T-shirt, but Kaine stopped short on the trail and held up a hand.

I nearly ran into him. “What?”

He shook his head, and I clamped my mouth shut. Then he looked over his shoulder and pointed down the trail.

I followed his finger to where a grizzly bear was standing on its hind legs, staring at us with a crooked head.

I gasped, clinging to Kaine’s shirt as my heart stopped.

I was going to be mauled and eaten by a bear today. There would be no huckleberry pie for dessert. Instead, I’d be this bear’s treat.

And I wouldn’t have any more nights with Kaine. When faced with an animal four times my size, that was the regret that popped to mind first. I wished I had gotten one more chance to kiss him.

“Don’t. Run.” He reached behind him and put a hand to my stomach, gently pushing me backward.

The bear watched us as we backed away with shuffled steps. It dropped down on all fours and took three steps in our direction. I nearly threw up my breakfast. Then finally, it let out a snort and ambled away in the opposite direction.

My sigh of relief rang through the forest.

Kaine didn’t relax though, his eyes glued to the spot where the bear had been standing. He urged me on faster and, with one hand, reached into the side pocket of his backpack to retrieve the bear spray.

I had to spin around to keep from tripping as I hustled, though I was careful not to run. Every third step, I glanced over my shoulder to make sure the bear hadn’t changed his mind about making me his afternoon snack.

It was only when Kaine turned, walking close to my side, that I began to breathe again. My hands didn’t stop shaking until we were on top of the ridge and out of the trees.

“Is it gone?” I whispered.

“You can talk normally.”

“No way,” I whispered again.

He chuckled, shrugging off his backpack and dropping it on the ground. He dug out two bottles of water, handing me mine, and then surprised me by taking out a gleaming silver pistol.

I suddenly felt sorry for the bear.

“You’re packing heat?” I teased.

“Better to be prepared.” Kaine shrugged. “Bear spray is the best, but having a gun handy doesn’t hurt either. I prefer to carry it in a holster on my hip, but I didn’t want to scare you.”

“It’s fine. Owen insisted I take a handgun class after he joined the military. Guns don’t scare me. Have you had that with us on every hike?”

He nodded. “Just the last couple. With the berries coming on like they have, it’s not unusual to see more bears up here.”

“How dangerous was that situation?” I asked, pointing in the direction of where we’d seen the bear.

“It was good that we didn’t surprise him and we had some distance. But on the next hike, you’ll have your own can of spray, and we’re going to get some bells to make more noise.”

“Seriously?” I was not feeling so hot about living in the forest at the moment. “Is it safe around my house?”

“Bears are mostly pests, like big raccoons. If one gets comfortable around your house, they might make a damn mess of your garbage. So keep your lids on tight. But they normally live deeper in the woods. The only reason they’re venturing closer to town now is because the huckleberries are so thick this year.”

“I don’t want to be eaten by a bear.”

Kaine chuckled. “I won’t let you get eaten by a bear. But no more hiking without me.”

“Oh, I’m never hiking alone again,” I declared.

Kaine flashed me one of his rare smiles. “Want to keep going?”

“Hell no. I’m locking myself in my camper for the rest of the weekend where it’s safe and there’s pie.”

“Pie?”

“Huckleberry. I was going to surprise you after dinner.”

His groan was nothing less than erotic, and it made my mouth dry. I took a drink from my water, then put it in his backpack, doing my best to erase that delicious sound from my memory.

Most days, it was easier to be around Kaine. But for some reason, today I was struggling to resist his temptation. After he left tonight, I’d probably be so wired, I’d have to take a shower and use my fingers to relieve some of the ache between my legs.

Kaine took a long drink from his own water, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he gulped, then shoved it in his backpack. The bear spray stayed in one hand while his gun was tucked safely in his pocket as we descended the trail back to our homes.

If we did see another bear, Kaine would keep me safe. Out here, he was my protector.

A smile pulled at the corners of my mouth, and I looked down, hiding it from him with my hat. If my life was in danger, Kaine would wrestle a bear to the ground and kick its ass before making it his living room rug.

A giggle bubbled free.

“What?” Kaine asked over his shoulder.

I shook my head, coughing to hide another laugh. “Nothing.”

Maybe Kaine would let me name the bear rug. It would have to be something manly, like the owner himself. A name like Boris or Baran or Boryenka. Apparently Kaine’s imaginary rug was Russian.

Too busy brainstorming names, I didn’t notice the shining black sedan parked behind my Mini. Not until a familiar voice startled me, and I knew exactly who I’d see as I peered past Kaine’s broad shoulders.

“Who are you?” Adam was standing by the car, his hands fisted on his hips as he barked his question at Kaine.

“This is private property,” Kaine answered. He might as well have said move the fuck on, asshole.

“I know whose property this is,” Adam spat. “What I don’t know is who you are.”

“Adam,” I snapped, moving up to Kaine’s side. I went to take another step, but before I could, Kaine took my elbow in his grip and secured me by his hip.

At the gesture, Adam took two angry steps away from his car. “Piper, who is this guy?”

“My neighbor.” The grip Kaine had on my arm tightened, almost as if he didn’t like my answer. “What are you doing here, Adam?”

He shot a glare at Kaine. “Pip, can we talk in private?”

“No,” Kaine barked.

I appreciated his protectiveness for the second time today, but there was no escaping a one-on-one with Adam. So I pulled on my arm enough that Kaine set me free. “Would you mind?”

He glowered. My eyes widened in a silent plea to not make this worse, until he grumbled, “Fine.”

I expected him to stomp down the path to the cabin, but to my surprise, he stalked across my driveway, right to the Airstream’s door and let himself into my temporary home. The camper rocked as he slammed the door and went to the table, sitting down so he could watch us through the window.

“What are you doing here?” I asked as I walked over to my ex-husband.

Adam looked down with the blue eyes that had once held power over my every mood. They didn’t inspire much loyalty anymore. His chiseled jaw was covered in a day’s worth of scruff, something Adam did because it was popular in the industry, not because he liked it. He preferred to shave every morning and wouldn’t be caught dead with a thick beard like Kaine’s.

“I told you on the phone we needed to talk.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “And I told you not to come out here.”

“Because of that guy?” Adam’s jaw ticked as he glanced over to the camper.

Kaine was sitting at my dining room table with a fork full of huckleberry pie perched on his lips, simultaneously chewing another in an angry bite.

The bastard was eating my pie.

“Nice,” I mouthed.

Kaine shoved another bite in his mouth. The look he sent me said, If you want some pie, ditch the asshole and get in here.

I rolled my eyes and looked back to Adam.

“Is that the guy you’re seeing?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“No. He’s my neighbor.” And my friend. “That’s beside the point. What are you doing here?”

Adam turned his back on Kaine and took me by the shoulders. “I want you back. I’m miserable. I need you, Piper. Come home.”

Adam had only gotten more good-looking with age. Not that long ago, he’d been irresistible. The wind caught a lock of his blond hair, settling it on his forehead. Out of habit, I almost brushed it back in place.

He was so handsome. And so out of place. He was built for the life he’d created in New York. He thrived on the fame and the fortune. He didn’t need me, he just didn’t know it yet.

“No.” I shook my head. “This is my home now. Our marriage is over and you have to let it go. Let me go.”

“All because of one stupid kiss?”

“No, Adam. Not just because of one kiss. We had more problems than either of us ever wanted to admit long before that kiss.”

“If this is about getting pregnant, then—”

“It’s about all of it,” I interrupted. “Yes, the kiss. Yes, the wanting kids. And the fact that we rarely saw one another. I mean, in order to have sex twice a week, we had to schedule it for Sunday and Thursday mornings.”

“Because we were trying to have a baby.”

“No,” I countered. “Because that was the only time when you didn’t have morning rehearsal and I didn’t have an early meeting.”

“Don’t you dare blame this on my work.” He shoved a finger in my face. “You worked just as much as I did.”

“You’re right,” I said gently, and he dropped his hand. “Because it makes me happy.”

“Are you saying I don’t make you happy?”

“I’m saying that you kissed your costar a week after we found out I couldn’t get pregnant. Would that make you happy?”

“So it is the kiss.” He tossed out a hand. “Just admit it was the kiss.”

“Yes!” I shouted. “Of course it was the kiss. And a million other reasons, like the fact that I don’t believe you when you said you didn’t sleep with her. The man I married wouldn’t have hurt me like that. I don’t trust you.”

He looked to the gravel beneath his shoes, refusing to meet my eyes. He’d done that every other time I’d confronted him about his affair with a costar.

“Well . . . did you? Did you sleep with her?”

He looked up and scowled, tossing a thumb over his shoulder in Kaine’s direction. “Did you sleep with him?”

“Yes, I did.”

Shock flashed across his face, but he schooled his features quickly. Then The Actor appeared, the one who was calm and collected in front of a packed theater. The man who could stand on a bright stage and charm an audience sitting in the dark.

I hated The Actor.

He always seemed to show up whenever we were fighting. It was Adam’s self-defense technique, his way of shutting me out. The actor was the one everyone loved, but I’d always found him kind of ugly.

“This was a wasted trip,” he said coolly.

I scoffed. “You think?”

“Good-bye, Pip.” He brushed past me, going straight for his car.

“Adam?” I called.

He stopped and glanced over his shoulder. “What?”

“Did you sleep with her?” I asked again, one last time.

Maybe I asked because I sensed there was more to his story. Maybe I asked so I’d stop feeling so guilty about being the one to drive our marriage into the oblivion. Maybe I asked because if he denied it again, I was going to accept it as the truth.

“Stop asking me that,” he snapped.

“Then tell me the truth.”

With his chin held high, he turned and leveled his gaze on me. “Yes. I fucked her in the backseat of her car after we left the restaurant.”

His truth knocked the air from my lungs. When I recovered my breath, I swallowed the burn in my throat, refusing to let Adam see one more of my tears. “Why wouldn’t you just tell me when I asked? Why deny it?”

“Because I love you.”

“Hmm. Funny kind of love.” My eyes drifted to the ground. “Good-bye, Adam.”

He yanked open the door to his car and slid inside. Gravel bits flew from his tires as he reversed out of the driveway and down the road.

I stood there, waiting until his car was out of sight, then I marched to the camper. Kaine’s eyes tracked my movements as I stormed inside and ripped open the silverware drawer for my own fork. My ass had barely touched the bench seat before a bite was in my mouth.

With my cheeks full, I muttered, “You ate my pie.”

“I needed some magic.”

My mouth froze and the tears I’d fought outside came forward, though I blinked them away. I refused to cry for Adam. He’d gotten too many buckets of tears as it was. And surprisingly, it wasn’t as hard as I thought to keep them at bay.

Maybe it was the huckleberry pie.

Maybe it was because deep down I’d always known the truth of Adam’s betrayal.

Maybe it was Kaine’s gentle eyes silently promising it would be all right.

By the time the pie was gone, so was the pain.

“I need to show you something.” Kaine slid out of his seat and put his fork in the sink.

He grabbed mine and did the same before taking my hand and pulling me away from the table. As we walked out of the camper and across the path to his house, he didn’t let go of my hand. He held it as we passed the cabin and continued down to his shop.

With his free hand, he opened the door and flicked on the lights. Then he pulled me through the labyrinth of incomplete projects in the center of the floor to something covered in the far corner with a canvas tarp.

“Grab that end,” he instructed and let my hand go.

I went to the opposite end of the cloth, taking it in my hands like he’d done on his side. With a smirk, he whipped the cover off the table beneath, forcing me to do the same.

My jaw dropped as I let the tarp fall to the floor. My hands itched to touch the wooden top and they stretched for it but stopped an inch away as I looked to Kaine for permission.

He gave me a slight nod, and I dove in, pressing my palms against the smooth grain. The warmth of the wood soaked into my fingertips.

The edge of the table was rough—the live edge, as Kaine had called it. The contrast to the finished and flawless top gave the piece a rugged flair. And just like he’d promised, the stain brought out so many of the walnut’s grains that I could study them for hours and never get bored.

“This turned out so . . .” I trailed off, without words to describe the masterpiece.

“It’s yours.”

My hands froze. “What?”

“I was going to wait until your house was done, but I decided to give it to you now. This is for your dining room.”

“But what about the person you were making it for?”

He shrugged. “It was always for you.”

Always? This was the unfinished table we’d had sex on over a month ago. Which meant he’d started making this for me long before I’d asked him to over cinnamon rolls.

All this time, I’d thought Kaine didn’t know how to express his feelings. I’d thought that was why he hid so much and why he got embarrassed when I complimented his work.

I’d been completely and miserably wrong.

Kaine knew how to express his feelings just fine.

I stepped on top of the canvas cloth as I went to Kaine. He stood stoically, watching as I breached his space and tossed my arms around his sexy shoulders. Then, with my fingers threaded into the hair under the band of his hat, I stood on my tiptoes and pulled his mouth down to mine.

He flicked off my hat a split second before our lips fused.

His tongue swept across the seam of my lips. His arms banded around my back as he hauled me against his body.

The kiss was hot and frantic, the weeks’ worth of pent-up tension sending us both into a crazed frenzy. The kiss led to Kaine stripping us both naked and making me whimper his name as he fucked me on my table.

The sex had been incredible, but it was the kiss that sealed my fate.

I was falling in love with my grouchy, tormented neighbor. I was falling in love with a man who was sweet and kind.

I was falling in love with a man who had a little magic of his own.