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.

She wanted me. That flash in her eyes was unmistakable and it flipped my switch. Off to on. I crushed my lips down on hers, swallowing a gasp, then a moan as her hands slid up my chest. My fingers dove into her silky hair, letting the thick, luscious strands weave through my fingers.

Some of the lust had disappeared, revealing their normal color. They weren’t just brown, but a unique mixture of chocolate dipped in honey. A man could disappear into those eyes. He could get lost and never want to be found.

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

My god, he did it for me. Head to toe, Kaine Reynolds was magic.

Of all the neighbors I’d had before, and there had been many, Kaine was far and away my favorite.

And the sight of his smile, wide and white underneath those soft lips and between those dark bearded cheeks, was more breathtaking than even the ridge on our mountain.

A sense of pride filled my chest, squeezing out the pain from past memories. Knowing I was the cause of his smile and laugh was empowering. I did that. Me. I made Kaine smile. He made me forget.

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.

Learning I was pregnant with twins was only slightly less shocking than learning I was pregnant in the first place. Kaine’s sperm was magic.

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

It was understated but powerful, much like his furniture. It was simple and beautiful, much like our relationship.