Page 48 of Tragic (Lark Cove 3)

“No.” I blushed. “No, he is not.”

Her painting hadn’t captured the details of Kaine’s face, simply because his hands had been covering most of it. But during our nights together, I’d memorized some of my favorite features. Now that I knew what his nose looked like from all angles and how his mouth was ever so slightly off-center from his strong chin, it made the painting even better.

I couldn’t stop glancing at it resting on top of the bar.

“Keep it.”

“What?” My gaze shot to Thea. “I can’t keep this.”

“Why not?”

“Well, what if he sees it? He might think I’m a crazy stalker who painted him.”

Thea waved me off. “Tell him I did it, then draw him one of those stick figures you were just bragging about.”

I giggled. “Good point. He’ll know right away I couldn’t make this.”

“I’m glad for you. I think a casual fling with a han

dsome man is just what you need.”

Handsome was an understatement. Kaine didn’t have a classically perfect face like Logan. He didn’t have a charming, playful appeal like Jackson. Kaine was too serious. But he was better looking than either of them in my opinion, especially when he smiled.

The door behind me opened and Jackson came back inside. His eyes didn’t shine as bright now that his wife had left. Behind him, the evening light was fading through the windows.

“Okay, I’d better get going.” I downed the last of my beer and fished out some cash from my purse. It was only eight thirty but I wanted to stop by the grocery store before going home, and they closed in thirty minutes.

But before I could pay, Thea waved it off. “Family discount. And I’d better go too. I want to catch Charlie before Logan tucks her in.”

“Have a good night.” Jackson waved to us both as we walked out the door. Thea and I exchanged a quick hug before she got in her car to go home, and I climbed into mine.

Then I drove the two blocks down the highway to the grocery store, rifling through my purse for the list I’d made earlier as I walked inside. I gave the owner stationed behind the one and only register a quick smile and kept on digging.

“Seriously?” I grumbled. Why did my purse always eat my grocery lists?

It was nowhere to be found, so I gave up the search and plucked a basket from the stack next to the pushcarts. With it resting on my arm, I went through the small produce aisle first, collecting a bunch of bananas and a bag of baby carrots. Then I went up and down each of the other aisles, picking things that I remembered writing down and a plethora of items that I hadn’t.

By the time I made it to the second to last aisle, my basket was getting heavy, and I cursed myself for not getting the full-sized cart. I turned down the baking aisle to get some brown sugar but froze when I saw the man standing in front of the Betty Crocker boxed cake mixes.

Kaine was glaring daggers at the box in his hand.

I grinned, walking as quietly as I could in my cork wedge sandals down the freshly waxed floor. “White cake? If you’re going to go for something other than chocolate, at least get the rainbow chip.”

His face whipped to the side, the scowl disappearing as he recognized me. Kaine was wearing a navy baseball hat, pulled low on his head so you could barely see his eyes. The light sporty jacket he wore was zipped up all the way to his neck.

“Is there a reason why you’re standing in the baking aisle looking like a criminal in hiding?” With a quick flick, I tipped up his hat, knocking it back so I could see his eyes.

His frown returned as he put the cake mix back on the shelf and mumbled, “I was goingtoaskyou . . .”

“Huh?”

He shuffled down a few steps, grabbing another box and studying it like it was made of pure gold. He wouldn’t look at me. He wouldn’t speak up. Was he nervous?

Yes! He was totally nervous. It was strange and oddly sexy to see Kaine Reynolds, the man who preferred to speak in three-word sentences, jittery because I’d surprised him at the grocery store.

“What was that you said?” I pressed.

He shrugged those broad shoulders, huffing as he swapped out one yellow cake mix for another. “I was going to ask you to dinner.”