Page 23 of Tragic (Lark Cove 3)

My arms were tense, unsure of how tightly I should hold her. The last crying woman I’d held had been my mother. The memory of Mom, clinging to my arms in the hospital, rushed into my head, and I nearly dropped Piper on the ground.

What was I doing? I didn’t want personal attachments. My mind screamed to let her go, but my arms refused to listen.

Let her go.

I hugged her tighter.

Her sobs were full of such pain, I wanted to take it away. I wanted to meld it into my own. I kept so much inside of me already, what was a little more?

I shifted off my knees, sitting on the ground so I could pull her into my lap and rest my cheek on the top of her hair. Then we sat together, her clinging to me, me clutching her until she’d cried it all out.

“You okay?”

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry.” She leaned away from my chest, swiping at her eyes. Even with red eyes and blotches on her face, she was stunning.

“It’s all right.”

“No, it’s not. I got slobber on your shirt.” Embarrassment flushed her cheeks as she dabbed the wet spot over my heart.

“It’s fine.” I trapped her hand under mine, but she refused to look at me.

I bent my head, trying to catch her gaze. When it finally flickered to mine, I gave her a small smile. At least, I think it was a smile. I hadn’t done much of that in three years either. Even just a small uplift at the corners felt strange.

She shook her head, pushing away from me to stand. “You must think I’m crazy.”

“I don’t.” But since I was crazy myself, what the hell did I know?

I stood too, watching as she brushed the grass and dirt from her black leggings. They accentuated every luscious curve of her ass and legs, and I shoved my hands into my pockets to keep them away.

“I’m a mess,” she muttered.

“No, this is on me. I’m sorry. The way I ran out on you was, well, I’m an asshole. For all of it. Coming over. Getting pissed at you. The, um . . . kiss. I didn’t mean to do that. I didn’t come over expecting, uh . . . sex.”

This was the worst damn apology in the history of mankind. What happened to the mediocre one I’d just memorized? Jesus. Sum it up already. “I’m just . . . I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

Piper gave me a sideways glance, then shut me up with a smile.

My heart skipped and my hand went back to my sternum. She was as beautiful as she was dangerous. Just minutes around her and I was unbalanced. When was the last time a woman had made my heart skip?

“Don’t worry.” Piper laughed. “You aren’t the reason I was crying.”

“I’m not?”

She shook her head. “No, those tears belonged to someone else. What happened between us earlier was the craziest thing I’ve done in a long, long time, but I’m not upset about it. I don’t regret it.”

“I don’t either.”

“Are you sure? Because the way you bolted out the door makes me think otherwise.”

“I’m sure.” As much as it was messing with my head, as much as she was throwing me off-center, that was the best time I’d had in years.

She smiled wider, enough to get the dimples. “Can I confess something?”

“Uh, okay?”

She turned away and spoke to the mountains in the distance. “That first day when we met, when I came to your cabin, I’d been up here earlier. My friend and I hiked up here to check out the rid

ge. I think my realtor thought it would sell me on the place, which it did.”