Page 68 of Tragic (Lark Cove 3)

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.