Tragic (Lark Cove, #3)

by Devney Perry

He had a tragic allure, one that screamed sorrow and loss. I knew that pain all too well. Recognition hit me in a flash and I spun around, hurrying back in the direction we’d come. That man was up here to grieve, and we’d just intruded on his private moment.

One look at her and the pain in my hand vanished. Her chestnut hair was long and full, parted in a perfectly straight line down the middle. It hung past her shoulders in thick, silky strands. Her deep-set eyes were the color of my favorite dark-roast wood stain. Her lips were plump beneath the regal bridge of her nose. The green forest light illuminated her olive skin. Her classic beauty was out of place on my dusty porch.

Kaine might regret what we’d done, but he’d left behind a look of utter satisfaction on my face.

I’d missed being . . . myself. Kaine couldn’t know, but what he’d done for me this afternoon had broken the chains I’d wrapped around my heart these last few years. With each negative pregnancy test, I’d wrapped a chain. With the test results from our fertility doctor, I’d added a lock to the chains. When Adam had admitted to kissing his costar, I’d added an anchor. Those chains had become a shield, one I’d retreated behind years ago. Slowly, I was casting them away.

And he’d done it a week after we’d found out that I couldn’t bear his children.

“Did you sleep with her?” “No,” he insisted. “I’ve told you that over and over. It was just that kiss.” Yet I still asked because the pit in my stomach screamed there was more to his story.

“This isn’t all my fault,” Adam declared. “You weren’t the only one devastated by the doctor’s news. That was a game changer because I wanted kids too.” I flinched. Not once had Adam held my infertility against me. But here he was, taking my greatest insecurity and using it to justify his infidelity.

“Sorry for that crying jag,” she continued. “Sometimes you just need to cry, you know?” Not really. Even after everything that had happened in my past, I hadn’t cried. Not once.

A dining room table that looked exactly like the one I would have made for myself.

She’d probably ask me to take her up to Kalispell and go car shopping. What a pain in the ass. “She needs a new car,” I told the glass, then went back to my cereal. I’d talk to Piper about it before the end of the summer.

We’d agreed on casual sex. That, I could do. But she was the type of woman I’d want daily. Hourly. Seeing each other that much would be too risky. She might develop feelings. She might confuse sex with love. She might? That was bullshit. I was really worried about myself. So for casual sex to stay uncomplicated, I couldn’t see her as often as my body would have liked.

“I hope the owners of this table don’t mind that we just broke it in for them.” A giggle escaped my lips as Kaine’s chest heaved with a silent laugh. He smirked, giving me the same look he had earlier, like he knew something I didn’t.

I made Kaine smile. He made me forget.

They’d bought her out a year ago, making sure she was set for retirement with her husband Xavier, the retired town sheriff.

I’d realized another thing on my road trip—I was not made for casual sex. My bruised heart was on the line and it required careful relationships, not callous. Friendship was the most I should offer Kaine.

“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.”

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.

“Oh, uh . . . no.” My heart sank. “No. I-I can’t have kids.” Not without major medical intervention.

“You are pregnant, Ms. Campbell. Your blood tests confirm it.”

I pictured her, pregnant with our child, trapped in a crumpled car as life seeped out of her body in a crimson stream.

“Putting your dick inside a woman who is not your wife a week after lying to her about fertility test results would definitely qualify as a mistake.”

“About four years ago, I met a woman in a bar. Her name was Shannon. We hit it off right away. One thing led to another, and I took her home. Neither of us wanted anything serious. We had our fun, then I drove her home the next morning. I figured I’d never see her again. She came back about six weeks later and told me she was pregnant.”

His arms were overloaded from our shopping haul. “Seriously?” I rolled my eyes, swallowing my bite. “Take two trips.” “I can get it all in one.” “Whatever.” I shoved more crackers in my mouth. Kaine would do just about anything to avoid multiple trips from the car. When we got groceries, he’d load up every single plastic bag on his forearms, then cradle a gallon of milk and a box of ginger ale against his chest. He risked my groceries’ well-being on a regular basis because he didn’t want to take two trips.

“I guess they like sex.” His hands stilled. “What?” “Sex.” I laughed. “They like it. Maybe an orgasm is like a hug for them. We should hug them more.” “Oh, Jesus.” He rolled his eyes, dropping his forehead to my stomach as he laughed. I laughed even harder, loving this carefree side of him that I rarely saw.

“Somewhere along the line, you stole my heart. I’m going to steal yours in return. Just wait and see.”

“You’ll understand when you’re a parent.” “I was a parent. Until he took her away from me.”

Both of them were too busy cooing over my baby niece playing on the floor to even look up and answer my question.

Her brother and his wife were both zonked out on the bed, taking advantage of a nap while Grandma and Grandpa were babysitting their three-month-old daughter.