Page 96 of Tragic (Lark Cove 3)

“I like those.” I relaxed deeper into the seat. “I’ve always liked traditional names.”

“I’m stuck on girl names though. Any ideas?”

I’d thought of a million baby girl names over the last three years. “Hope and Faith.”

“Hope and Faith,” she whispered. “I love those.”

“We didn’t—me and Shannon—we didn’t pick out girl names. We thought we had time.”

“Robert and Gabe for boys. Hope and Faith for girls.”

Her statement was quiet but firm. I needed those names picked out. I needed to know if something bad happened, my kids would have names. And Piper knew I needed it too.

“Will you do something for me?”

She nodded, her eyes falling shut as I continued to rub her feet.

“Would you go out to dinner with me?”

“Are you asking me on a date?”

“Yes, I am.”

She smiled. “We’re doing everything backward.”

I was taking that as a yes.

The night got still and darkness settled. Piper fell asleep on the couch, and I carried her down the hall and into her bed.

Just like the rest of the house, her room was stylish and warm. As I settled her under her maroon comforter, I swiped the hair from her eyes and bent to kiss her forehead.

She hummed, snuggling deeper into her pillow.

Fuck, but I wanted to curl up next to her. I wanted to fall asleep with her in my arms. Not once in all of our nights together had we slept in the same bed.

I’d always left. I’d always maintained that line in the sand.

There were no lines anymore. I would cross them all.

Piper Campbell had broken past all of my walls and made me fall in love with her. She’d worked her way into my broken heart, filling the black holes with light.

“Kaine?” Piper’s soft voice stopped me right before I shut her door. Her head was still resting on the pillow, but her dark eyes were open.

“Yeah?”

“Yes, I’ll go on a date with you.”

I grinned. “I wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Night.”

“Good night.”

As I padded down the hall, I shut off the lights and locked the front door. Then I went to my room, stripped off my clothes and climbed into bed, staring up at the ceiling as I replayed our conversation.

We’re doing everything backward.

Piper had been right about that.

Maybe backward was the only way we’d end up forward.