Page 89 of Tragic (Lark Cove 3)

“After a while, he’ll move on,” Thea reassured me.

“I hope so.” I shrugged. “I loved him for a long time, and even though he hurt me, I still want the best for him.”

“You’re a better person than I am. I kind of want him to get a receding hairline and beer belly.”

A fate akin to death for Adam. His vanity had grown throughout our marriage in steady increments. Something I’d noticed, but like a lot of things, I’d adjusted to. Now I saw that he was more worried about being handsome on the outside than making sure he was beautiful on the inside.

“Anyway, enough of him.” I waved that conversation away and picked up the book of baby names I’d left in here. “I think I’ve got boy names already picked. But I’m struggling with girl names. Feel like helping me make a list of possibilities?”

“I’d love to.”

The two of us retreated to the living room, where we settled into my cozy furniture. I went through the baby book, reading off names I liked while Thea kept track in a notepad. Then the two of us ate lunch, gossiping about things in town, until she decided to head home and let me catch a nap.

I stood on the front stoop, waving as she backed away from the house. It was strange to look outside and not see the Airstream or my Mini. Logan had come to collect their camper last week, and three days ago, my Mini had been supersized to the white Tahoe parked in my garage. With two babies on the way, I needed space and four-wheel drive for the winter roads.

I went inside, deciding to spend time in the office before I lazed on the couch for my Saturday afternoon nap. With Logan leaving for New York, I wanted to double-check all of the meeting materials and items for his trip were ready to go.

Hours later, I’d missed my nap and had eaten my favorite summer pasta dish for dinner at my desk. I’d found spelling errors in three of the presentations, so I’d gone through the entire week’s worth of slide decks to check for more.

I was halfway through a small stack of Oreo cookies when the doorbell rang.

Smiling to myself, I hurried for the door. Mom’s daily delivery of baby items was coming in late today. Normally, my packages came about six in the evening, including Saturdays. John, my deliveryman, stopped here last on his way home to his wife and three kids. But I guess he had more packages than normal today.

“Hi, Joh—”

It wasn’t John on my doorstep.

It was Kaine.

“Hi,” he rumbled.

My jaw dropped.

In nineteen days, Kaine had changed. He’d trimmed his beard shorter than I’d ever seen before. His hair, which I loved to comb my hands through at night, was shorter too and brushed away from his forehead. And for the first time ever, he was wearing something other than a T-shirt.

His navy, button-down shirt went all the way to his wrists. He’d tucked the hem into jeans and was wearing a leather belt. Its brown color matched his polished boots.

His image was so different, he could be an imposter if not for the same colorful swirl in his eyes I’d memorized months ago. Still, it took me a good minute before I clamped my mouth shut and crossed my arms over my chest.

I was so angry at him for leaving, and our argument in the shop. But could I remember a single thing I wanted to say to him? No. The ass chewing I’d been practicing was gone. Poof. Vanished.

All I really wanted to do was give Kaine a hug.

What was that? Why did he always make me want to hug him? I closed my arms tighter across my chest because there would be no hugging until I got an explanation. And an apology.

“I’m sorry.” His eyes pleaded for my forgiveness.

Now I just needed the explanation.

I opened the door wider, stepping to the side to let him in. He nodded, then crossed the threshold. His eyes raked over the room, taking note of the changes I’d made since he’d been here last.

While he ran his fingertips across an end table by the couch, I had the perfect view of his backside. Why did he have to look so good? It made summoning my lecture even harder.

“Place looks good.” He took a seat on the edge of the couch, his forearms resting on his knees.

I shrugged, then went to the chair opposite him. I waited for him to speak first, but instead of giving me the explanation I was due, he slid the baby names book across the coffee table.

As he stroked the cover, his shoulders rolled inward. His entire frame slumped deeper into the couch. “I have a confession to make.”