Page 26 of Tragic (Lark Cove 3)

I’d use walnut for its strength and its beauty. The wood’s grain variation came to life under my favorite dark brown stain. Instead of four legs, I’d do two wide square posts to give the piece a sturdy flair. Seven feet would be large enough for a good crowd at the holidays but not so long that she’d feel like she was sitting at an island when she was eating alone.

I mentally sorted through the slabs of wood I had in the shop, the ones I’d collected over the years that were just waiting for the right project. I’d narrowed it down to one of three pieces by the time we reached the split in the trail where she’d take her path home and I’d continue on to mine.

“I guess I’ll see you around. Neighbor.”

I nodded. “I guess so.”

“We’ll try to keep the noise down.”

“Appreciated.”

She waved and stepped down her path.

I let my gaze linger on her ass for just a moment before turning down my own trail.

“Hey, Kaine,” she called.

“Yeah?”

“Would you like to come to dinner tomorrow?”

The smart answer here was no. There was too much chemistry between us to be confined to her camper. And I didn’t trust myself to keep my hands off of her.

But instead of declining her invitation and sticking to my original plan to keep some distance, I called out, “Sure.”

“Six o’clock.”

I nodded and we both went on our separate ways. I glanced at my cabin as I walked by but didn’t stop as I hustled to the shop.

By midnight, the project I’d been working on earlier had been tarped and pushed to the side. I’d dug out a raw, magnificent slab of walnut from my stash. It was resting on two sawhorses in the center of the room. And I’d just finished sketching the design for Piper’s table.

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

“Stupid sweat glands.” I fanned my armpits, taking a few breaths to calm my racing heart.

I was so nervous for this dinner with Kaine that I’d been sweating profusely for an hour. My hands were clammy, and I’d put on three layers of deodorant so far tonight. I hadn’t been this nervous for dinner with a man since my first date with Adam in college.

I wasn’t exactly sure why I’d invited Kaine over tonight. Maybe because he’d been so nice to me on the hiking trail. Maybe because I hadn’t expected him to accept. But he was due at any moment, and I didn’t want to be dripping when he arrived.

Thankfully, he hadn’t come out of his cabin yet, so I had a few moments to breathe and cool down as I kept an eye on his house through the window.

It was Saturday so I’d spent the morning cleaning the camper. Then I’d gone to the local grocery store

, where I’d questioned my menu choice at least a hundred different times as I’d wandered up and down all eight aisles.

Finally, I’d settled on a meal that a burly man with bulging muscles would enjoy: steak and potatoes. Though, I’d grabbed some chicken too in case he didn’t eat red meat.

I’d come home and spent my afternoon in the kitchen. I’d prepped my favorite scalloped potatoes, which were currently in the oven. I’d cooked and shredded the chicken for my backup meal of barbeque sandwiches. But since scalloped potatoes went great with steak but were too fancy for barbeque, I’d made a homemade potato salad.

When I’d realized he might not like potatoes, I’d dashed into town for more groceries. I had coleslaw, fruit salad and corn on the cob crammed in my refrigerator.

It was when I’d finished cooking that the anxious sweating had started.

The only thing I was certain he’d like was dessert. I was going all out and making my famous skillet cookies.

I’d found these mini cast-iron skillets a few years ago. I would press chocolate chip cookie dough into the bottom and bake them until they were just past gooey. Then I’d top them with an enormous scoop—or two—of vanilla ice cream, drizzle them with chocolate and caramel sauce and dig in.

Even after Adam gave up sugar and processed foods, he’d indulge and split one with me.