Page 38 of Tragic (Lark Cove 3)

She nodded, her hand going out to the walnut wood, skimming over the top to test its texture. “This is beautiful.”

So are you.

My lips barely managed to keep the words from spilling out.

This was casual. We were having some sex, enjoying one another. This thing between us would just get complicated if we gave out compliments like we were more than lovers.

“Who is this table for?”

“Just a lady.” It wasn’t a complete lie. But if I told her the table was hers, that would just lead to questions about why I was making her a table.

Before I answered those, I had another to solve.

Why her?

When I died, I wanted to be buried in sawdust.

My parents were New York natives, so were their parents and their grandparents. City blood ran through my veins. I loved living in Montana, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss the noisy traffic, bustle of energy and potent scents from metropolitan streets.

But the smell of Kaine’s shop was paradise.

It erased the homesickness I’d been feeling for the last few days. It soothed away the worries that I’d made a mistake by moving here. The smell was like being wrapped in a warm blanket after walking five blocks in a snowstorm.

It was almost as magical as my cake.

I splayed both hands on the tabletop in front of me, pushing down hard to see how sturdy it was on the sawhorses. It was like a rock, so I leaned a hip on the edge.

“What’s left to finish this piece?”

Kaine came closer to the table. He touched the raw edge, then brushed away a loose wood shaving. “It’s all sanded and ready to stain. Once I do that, the grains will really come alive. Then I’ll build the base.”

“Is the edge going to be like this? Or will you cut it off so it’s straight?”

“I was going to leave it like this. It’s called a live edge. It’s not for everyone.”

“I love it.” At the edges, the bark was still attached. Along its edge, the wood had a lighter tone, almost yellow, where the rings were newer. The contrast between the darker center, the black knots and the bright edges was stunning. It wasn’t just a table, it was art. “I want a table like this for my place.”

Kaine’s mouth broke into a smile, blinding me with his white teeth. I hadn’t seen anything more than a slight grin from him before. His eyes sparkled with something new. Humor, maybe? Amusement?

Whatever it was, he dazzled me.

“Are you actually smiling?” I teased. “I didn’t think you knew how. Where’s my phone? I need to take a picture.”

I patted my dress pockets, pretending to search for my phone. And that’s when I got the good stuff. Kaine’s laughter echoed in the shop. It wasn’t a doubled-over, booming laugh, but I’d take it.

I hid my own smile by turning away and pointing to the other project he had set up in the middle of the room. “What’s that over there?”

“That’s a custom table for a guy who lives in Utah. He’s giving it to his wife for Christmas.”

“That’s sweet.”

He walked over to the table, touching the round top. “This is just the framework right now. I’ll mount this to a tooled and spun pedestal. Then once I get it all built and shaped, I’ll be putting a design on top.”

I was frozen in place as I watched him run his large hands across the table. He was gentle with the wood, caressing it like he had my skin.

“It’s basically these thin wooden pieces, like an overlay,” he said. “My client wants to try and have the design match this quilt of his wife’s grandmother. I guess they were really special to one another. So I’m recreating the design with different wood colors in the pattern on top.”

My mouth fell open a bit as he spoke. Maybe the sawdust smell worked magic on Kaine too because that was more words in a single stretch than I’d ever gotten from him.