Page 49 of Tragic (Lark Cove 3)

That was when I noticed the contents of his own shopping basket. He had two pork chops and a tub of macaroni salad. There was also a bowl of precut watermelon and a bag of dinner rolls.

I held back a smile, wanting to play with him a little. “I already ate.”

“Tomorrow. I was going to ask you to dinner tomorrow,” he grumbled, swiping a can of vanilla frosting off the shelf.

Yellow cake and vanilla frosting? Eww.

My face soured and he took it as a no to his invitation. With an angry huff, he shoved the frosting back on the shelf. But before he could walk away, I grabbed his arm.

“Wait. I’d love to go to dinner.” With one hand restraining his elbow, I reached for the right kind of frosting for yellow cake. Chocolate. “But only if you make that cake with this frosting.”

His frame relaxed. “Okay.”

The reality of what had just happened sank in, and my heart beat double time. Kaine had just asked me over for dinner. Was it a date? Did he want more than just casual?

I took a breath, not wanting to get ahead of myself. This was casual. We were casual. This dinner invitation didn’t have to be anything other than pork chops shared between neighbors.

“Can I bring anything?” I asked.

“Dinner.” He chuckled. “I’m a shit cook.”

“Just don’t mess up the cake and we’ll be fine.”

Baking was not my strength.

I ruined the first cake mix because of the piss-poor instructions on the damn box. It said to insert a toothpick until it came out clean. Betty Crocker and I had different opinions on what a fucking clean toothpick looked like.

Fifteen minutes longer in the oven than the box recommended and the toothpick still came out with a small crumb. The instructions should have read crumby, not clean.

But I got lucky because I’d baked that cake—or tried—before noon. Once I’d let it cool and tossed it in the trash, I’d gone back to the grocery store and started all over again.

The second time around, I baked the cake according to the median time on the box, then took it out. To hell with the toothpicks.

Why had I invited Piper over last night at the grocery store? Insanity.

I’d gone down for my weekly visit, and like always, it had been right before closing time. That’s when it was typically the quietest. The first few times I’d gone to the store, I’d been waved at, talked to and welcomed to town. People were too friendly in Lark Cove.

So I’d learned quickly to go in late, wear a hat to shield my face and emit a don’t talk to me attitude that made men give me the side-eye and women scoot their carts as far from mine as possible.

There hadn’t been anyone but me and the clerk in the store last night, so I’d let go of my edge. Then Piper had surprised me in the baking aisle, and I’d blurted out my invitation without thinking it through.

I’d planned on asking her to dinner casually. I was going to walk over to the camper and say, Hey, I made dinner. Want some?

If I screwed up the meal, it wouldn’t have mattered. I wouldn’t have invited her over. But since I’d lost my mind at the store, now there was all this pressure.

Now, this felt too much like a date.

We’d been having a blast these last couple of weeks in her camper. The sex just got better and better. But the last few times I’d walked home after leaving her bed, worries had kept me company in the dark.

Did she think I was just using her for sex? Piper was an incredible woman, and I didn’t want her to feel . . . cheap. When I left her camper every other night, I had nothing but respect for that woman.

Was she a friend? Not really. I didn’t have friends, not anymore. I didn’t want friends. Just like I didn’t want to be in a relationship with a woman ever again. But Piper deserved a little extra effort on my part than she’d gotten so far.

I’d hoped a nice, neighborly dinner would show her that she was more than a willing and able body to me.

We could have sex and occasionally share a meal without becoming serious. The idea was solid, my execution a disaster. All because she’d snuck up on me at the grocery store.

Did she think this was a date? Because it wasn’t, even though it smelled like one.