Tragic (Lark Cove Book 3)
Tragic: Chapter 16

“Let me get this straight. The morning after I left, you came over to my house and saw I was gone. So you went to the shop, locked it up for me, then came home. You waited a week for me to come back, and when I didn’t, you came back to the cabin. And cleaned?”

Standing on the other side of the island in her kitchen, Piper shrugged. “It was dirty. And I was mad at you.”

“So you cleaned and did my laundry?”

Her cheeks got red as she muttered, “Tried to do your laundry.”

“Even though you were mad at me.”

“Yes, I was. Am,” she corrected quickly. “I decided to kill you with kindness, or whatever that saying is. And your garbage was starting to grow creatures. I didn’t want one of them to sneak over and smother me in my sleep.”

This woman. She never stopped surprising me.

While I was gone, she’d gone over to do her revenge cleaning. She unloaded my dishwasher, took out the garbage and found a load of laundry in my washer that had been sitting wet for a week. So she rewashed the clothes and put them in the dryer.

Except she didn’t know that the sensor in my dryer was broken. She didn’t know that I wasn’t great about cleaning out the lint trap.

Piper turned on the dryer, then came home, assuming it would stop on its own.

It stopped all right. After catching fire.

The fire destroyed my laundry room and about half of my living room. Luckily, she had her windows open, and when she smelled smoke, she called the fire department. They were able to save the house but there was a lot of work to be done to get it back to rights.

“I guess this makes us even for the fight,” I teased.

“Even?” she gaped. “No way.”

“You set my house on fire.”

She raised her chin. “You accused me of getting pregnant on purpose.”

Fuck. “Okay. Not even.”

Her shoulders fell. “I really am sorry about the fire.”

“It’s only a house. I’m just glad you weren’t hurt.”

If she hadn’t noticed the smoke, it could have started a forest fire. Something of that magnitude would have consumed both our homes. The idea of her and our baby trapped here in a blaze made my stomach churn.

But she was okay. My house could be repaired. And to be honest, I wasn’t even that mad.

“My contractor is just finishing up a job,” she said. “Then he promised to get his crew up here to fix it. He said it could be as soon as next week.”

I nodded. “Sounds good. I’m sure the motel has a room open.”

“Or you can stay here.” She said it so quietly, I wasn’t sure I’d heard her right.

“I thought you were mad at me.”

“I am.”

I rubbed my beard, looking outside at the fading evening light. It had been a damn long day, and the longest part was yet to come. I’d gotten up early, spent the morning finishing a couple of projects on Mom’s house. Then I’d showered, hugged her good-bye and hit the road. The five-hour trip from Bozeman to Lark Cove had been tense, mostly because I’d had no idea how I was going to explain everything to Piper.

“Where were you?” she asked.

“I went to see my mom.”

“For three weeks?”

I nodded. “I hadn’t seen or spoken to her in three years. We had a lot to talk about.”

The last nineteen days had been filled with apologies and honest conversations. Mom knew all about what I’d been doing these last three years. I’d learned about her new job as the office manager at a law firm and the man she’d just started dating. We talked about everything, except for the one topic that we avoided completely. And as far as I was concerned, we’d never talk about him again.

Piper didn’t know it, but she was the reason I’d reconnected with Mom. If not for this pregnancy, I don’t know if I ever would have returned home. I liked to think I would have pulled my head out of my ass eventually, but the truth was, it had become easier to hide out.

But the day Piper had come to the shop and told me she was pregnant, everything had changed. It had taken me these last nineteen days to close the book on my former life.

The friend I’d called to deal with my house had actually worked with Mom to get it rented. But boxes and boxes of my things had been shoved in storage, so I’d had to go through them all. Sorting through the nursery items had been the hardest. The clothes and old mementos had been easier, just time-consuming. The same was true with my old shop.

I’d spent the last two and a half weeks selling some items, tossing others and donating the rest. On top of that, I’d met with the tenant in my house and worked out an agreement for them to purchase the place.

Everything from my former life was being put to rest. Once I told Piper about the accident, I wanted to leave it behind for good.

“Come sit down.” I retreated to the living room and took one end of the couch while she took the other.

She tossed her knees up into the seat between us, and the lights above us cast a soft glow on her skin. Hardly an hour had passed over the last nineteen days when I hadn’t pictured her face. But my mental image hadn’t done her beauty justice.

“You look beautiful,” I told her, earning a blush. “How are you doing? Feeling okay?”

She nodded. “A little sick here and there, but nothing I can’t manage.”

“Everything check out with the doctors?”

“I’m good. The babies are good and should be arriving around March eleventh.”

“March eleventh,” I repeated, penciling that date into my mental calendar. Unless we had an off winter, we’d be surrounded by snow. “The roads might still be icy then, but if we plan—wait. Back up a minute and say that again. The babies?”

She raised a shoulder. “You have magic sperm.”

Magic sperm. “How many babies are we talking about here?”

Piper laughed, flashing me those dimples. “Just two.”

“Just. Two.” My head fell back into the couch as it raced. Twins. We were having twins.

It was hard enough to wrap my head around the idea of one kid, let alone two. But in seven months, we’d be parents. To twins.

There were so many things to figure out by then, like where they’d sleep and which car seats to choose and if we’d be those parents who assigned each of their twins a color so we could tell them apart.

Twins.

“It kind of blows your mind, doesn’t it?” she asked.

I made an explosion sound.

Piper laughed again, shifting in her seat to reach for a blanket.

I sat up straight, helping her cover her legs. She was in leggings that went to her ankles, the tight black material wrapping around her curves, much like the fitted gray T-shirt she was wearing. She didn’t look pregnant, but that was how Shannon had been too. She hadn’t looked pregnant until around the fifth month.

“About four years ago, I met a woman in a bar. Her name was Shannon. We hit it off right away. One thing led to another, and I took her home. Neither of us wanted anything serious. We had our fun, then I drove her home the next morning. I figured I’d never see her again. She came back about six weeks later and told me she was pregnant.”

Piper flinched and the sound of her gasp filled the room.

“It was never meant to be something serious with Shannon, but plans change when you’re having a baby. Suddenly, this woman who I’d spent less than a day with was going to be in my life for good.”

Just like it would be with Piper. The thought of having Piper in my life felt right, but things with Shannon had never really fit.

“She was a nice person. She was beautiful and smiled all the time. She was so excited about the baby. I swear, Shannon was never anywhere without a pregnancy book in her hands.”

“You keep saying was. Shannon was.”

“She was.” I met her eyes. They were full of dread. She’d mentally skipped ahead of my explanation. “Shannon moved in with me because we thought it would be easier with the baby coming. I’d even asked her to marry me, but she turned me down.”

“Did you love her?” Piper asked.

“No.” I sighed. “It would have been easier if I had, but those feelings weren’t there. We tried to date for a while, but something was always missing. We both felt it. She just wasn’t the one. But we were having a baby and living together just made sense. At least at the beginning.”

In hindsight, we should have kept our distance. She should have stayed in her own apartment instead of moving into my house.

“She decorated the nursery. I made the baby a bassinet. We were still picking out names when she was about eight months pregnant, but neither of us was in a hurry to decide. We had time.”

I stared blankly across the room, unable to look at Piper for this next part. I’d never told this story before. And if I saw Piper cry or her face twist in sadness, I didn’t know if I could get through it all.

“Shannon was out to dinner one night. It was Memorial Day weekend and it was crazy in town. She’d already gone to the parade that morning and spent the afternoon hanging out with some friends. I asked her to just stay home and take it easy. But she wanted to go to this new restaurant downtown.”

She hadn’t invited me to go along. Shannon had stopped asking me out to dinner months before that night. When she’d first moved in, we’d gone out together all the time. I’d figured she’d stopped asking because those dinners had felt too much like dates.

It should have been my first clue that something was different. But I’d been too busy to notice. Plus, I’d been relieved. All I’d wanted to do for Memorial Day was stay home, cook myself a cheeseburger on the grill and drink a beer to relax.

“She never made it home. A drunk driver ran a stop sign going forty in a twenty-five and was T-boned by a truck.”

Piper gasped. “Oh, god.”

“The doctors had already lost Shannon by the time I arrived at the hospital. They delivered the baby, hoping to save her, but . . . I lost her too. They let me hold her for a few minutes after they cleaned her up. To say good-bye.”

“Kaine, I-I’m so sorry.”

“It broke me,” I whispered. “I was so excited about the baby. We all were. It wasn’t the ideal situation, but still, I wanted to be a father. A good father. And I just . . . I loved her. I’d never even met her, but I loved her.”

Piper kicked off her blanket and scooted closer to me on the couch. Then, without warning, she climbed into my lap and hugged me.

Her arms wound tight around my shoulders. Her hair hung loose and brushed against my cheek as she buried her nose in my neck.

It was the embrace I hadn’t even known I’d been craving, the one that would stitch together so many of those open wounds. So I wrapped my arms around her back and held her just as tight.

“You got scared,” she whispered.

“Terrified,” I whispered back. “When you told me you were pregnant, it brought back a lot of pain that I’d buried deep. I know I shouldn’t have left, but I just couldn’t deal with all of it. I needed some time to work it out.”

I’d needed some time to talk it through with someone who’d been just as devastated.

The days I’d spent with Mom had been healing. More times than I could count, I’d kicked myself in the ass for running away. Coming up to this mountain, to live alone, hadn’t helped me process my grief in the slightest. But after uncovering those wounds and letting them breathe, I was starting to feel some much-needed closure.

But I’d never regret replaceing my mountain. It was where I’d found Piper.

Or maybe she’d found me.

Piper leaned back and sniffled, then scooted off my lap. But instead of going back to her corner of the couch, she settled into my side and rested her head on my shoulder. I threw an arm around her back, keeping her close.

“I’m sorry, Kaine. I’m so, so sorry.”

I rested my cheek on her hair. “So am I.”

We sat quietly for a while, leaning on one another until Piper broke the silence with a question I was hoping to avoid tonight.

“Why didn’t you see your mom for three years?”

“It’s a long story. Let’s just say that after Shannon and the baby died, she made some choices I couldn’t live with. I was hurting and felt like she’d betrayed me, so I left. I cut off all ties and came up here to disappear.”

“What choices?”

I sighed. “Just . . . family stuff.”

Piper stiffened. The air in the room, which had been so warm with her curled into my side, dropped ten degrees. She pushed off the couch and left the room, walking down the hallway that led to a guest bedroom, her office and the garage.

Fuck. I’d promised her an explanation, but my vague answer had just shut her down. She didn’t know it was for the best. This was the part of my story I refused to talk about, even with my mother. There was too much rage there. Too much pain. I hadn’t let go of those emotions and until I could handle them myself, I wasn’t going to unload them on her.

I stayed on the couch, letting my head fall backward again, and gave Piper a few minutes. But as I listened to her slam cupboard doors and stomp around, I realized space was only making things worse.

Pushing off the couch, I went down the hall and found her in the guest bathroom, setting out some towels on the countertop. Her eyes met mine through the mirror as I leaned against the doorjamb.

“I’m sorry,” I told her. “There are still some things I’m working through myself. Can we save the rest for another day?”

She sighed and looked down at the sink. When she looked up, her eyes saw right to my core. She must have seen the pain there because she gave me some grace with a small nod.

“Thank you.”

Piper’s gaze dropped to the towels. Her hand slipped off the cotton and splayed over her belly. “With everything that happened to you. I can’t imagine. Do you . . .” She took a deep breath. “Do you want—”

“Yes.” I stepped into the room. “I want them.”

Them. Her. Us.

I wanted it all.

“Okay,” she breathed and her shoulders dropped.

Leaving Piper again would be nearly impossible. She’d ingrained herself into my life. And I’d missed enough of this pregnancy. Though it scared me, a spark of excitement was there too. I was getting the chance to be a father again.

I was getting the chance to try this again with Piper.

I’d cut her deep with that argument in the shop. I was a top-grade asshole for the things I’d said and then leaving for so long. I’d always be sorry for how I’d reacted. Now that she knew why I was scared, would she forgive me?

I sure as hell hoped so. Because then we could start over. Go back to the beginning and try our best not to fuck it up again.

“Where do we go from here?” I had my ideas but wanted to hear hers first.

She shrugged. “Let’s just take it slow.”

Slow. “I can do that.”

“If you need anything else in here, just let me know.” Piper patted the towels, then shooed me out of the bathroom.

I followed her out of the room and down the hallway, back into the living room. She went right for the couch, covering a yawn with the back of her hand, before snuggling right back underneath her blanket.

“Can I show you something?”

She nodded. “Sure.”

“Okay. Hang tight.” I went right for the door, hustling outside. Then I jogged over to the cabin, noticing the charred backside that had escaped me before.

There was one more thing I wanted to do tonight. One more thing to bring me closure. And now that Piper knew about Shannon and the baby, I wanted to do it with her by my side.

Rushing inside the house, I went straight to the bedroom closet, retrieving the box I’d stashed there. I tucked it under one arm, then grabbed the duffel bag I’d dropped earlier on the couch. It was full of the clothes and toiletries I’d bought in Bozeman for my stay there. I took it all back to Piper’s, leaving the duffel by the door and settling next to her on the couch.

“Sorry.” She jerked when my weight hit the cushions, her eyes popping open.

I set the box on the coffee table. “We can do this later. Why don’t you go to bed?”

She shook her head, sitting up a bit. “No, it’s okay. What’s in the box?”

Leaning forward, I flipped off the lid. “When I left Bozeman, this box was the only thing I brought with me other than my truck.”

Piper sat up just as I lifted out the pink baby blanket. Then I pulled out one item at a time, handing them to her to see. Beneath the blanket was a grainy black and white ultrasound photo. Next to it was the list of baby names Shannon and I had been debating.

Ten on her side. Ten on mine. All but two had been crossed off.

Morgan and Beckett.

“Shannon didn’t want to know if we were having a boy or a girl. We’d been in the middle of narrowing down names.” She never got to know that we’d had a girl.

The last item in the box was a pair of tiny, pink work boots that were the same style as the ones I wore every day.

I grinned as I pulled them from the box. “My mom bought these. She told me that even if we had a boy, he’d have to wear them because she couldn’t replace blue.”

“They are so cute.” Piper smiled. “I’m glad you kept them.”

“Me too.” I leaned into her side, and she leaned back. “I haven’t looked at all this in years. I just boxed it up and set it aside. Kind of like I have with a lot of things. But . . . I’m trying.”

“I know you are,” she said softly.

“Thanks for letting me show you.”

She rested her hand on my knee. “Anytime.”

We stared at the items for a few moments, then Piper and I both carefully repacked the box. When the lid was closed, a weight had been lifted.

Piper lay out on the couch again, righting her blanket. I bent down and untied my boots, then kicked them off and relaxed into the seat, stretching my legs under the coffee table.

My eyes landed on the book of baby names. “I told my mom about you and the baby. I’ll have to call her tomorrow and tell her we’re having twins.”

“My parents are excited too. My mom keeps sending me baby gifts.” Piper shifted, trying to get comfortable. But she was doing her best to keep her feet off my side of the couch.

I took both of her ankles in my hands and pulled them across my lap. When her bare feet were resting on my thighs, I took one and began massaging the arch.

“My god,” she moaned, the sound going straight to my dick.

“Have you picked out any names?” I asked, hoping it would distract me enough I wouldn’t get hard.

She hummed. “I was thinking about Robert and Gabe if they’re boys, after both of my granddads.”

“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.