Tragic

by Devney Perry

  We went in through the side door since I used it most. The front of the shop was a large garage door, but I opened it rarely for deliveries or in the summer afternoons when I needed a breeze to chase out the heat. It was nice to have open, but I didn’t want to risk having a squirrel or bird sneak inside and make my shop their new home.

  I flipped on the panel of lights by the door as I stepped inside. Like always, my first breath was a long one, dragging in the smell of sawdust and lacquer.

  Piper came in behind me, her eyes tracking everywhere as she took in the walls and tall ceilings. “Wow. This is quite the place.”

  It was my haven. A place only a few had ever stepped inside, not once a woman.

  The exterior of the building was made of two-tone steel, the bottom rimmed with dark brown while the rest was tan. The roof and garage door matched the darker color. I’d paid extra for a nonwhite building, but it had been worth it so the shop blended in with the trees.

  Still, it was simple. It was a steel box that didn’t have a lot of exterior charm.

  The inside was a different story.

  The tool benches on the wall beside the side door were as high quality as you could get, more expensive than what you’d find in most mechanics’ garages. I’d made the shelving myself to hold larger tools, as well as the large racks at the back of the shop that I used to sort and store wood. I’d added extra lights to ensure that even in the dead of night, I could be here and it would feel like high noon.

  The center of the vast space was where I kept works in progress. There were two tabletops out now, each stacked on sawhorses. One of the projects was Piper’s table.

  “You’re an organized one, aren’t you?” Her eyes were locked on the pegboards along the wall, where every tool was hung in its own precise location.

  “I take care of my tools.”

  “And your house. It’s the cleanest bachelor pad I’ve ever seen.”

  I coughed to cover a laugh.

  “What are you making?” She walked over to her table.

  “These are both dining room tables.”

  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.

  “That’s amazing.” He was amazing. “Your work is . . . breathtaking.”

  He shrugged and ducked his head. Was he getting shy? He turned his back to me, but before he hid his face, I swore I saw a blush. He was shy. My god, that was sexy.

  Not wanting to embarrass him, I scanned for other pieces in the shop. When my eyes landed on one by a stack of dowels, my jaw dropped. I had no place to store it, but I needed it for my new house. “Tell me that one isn’t sold yet.”

  “Sorry. I’ve got a guy picking it up in a couple days. I’m just waiting for the epoxy to cure and then I’ll seal it. But it turned out nice.”

  “Nice?” I mocked. “It’s stunning.”

  He’d taken what looked like a swath from a huge tree and mounted it onto three legs to serve as an end table. The top was full of cracks and breaks from how the tree had grown. Kaine had filled them all with some kind of blue plastic, making them look like streams of water running through the honey-colored wood.

  This man was so much more than he let people see. He came across so rough and cold, but in this shop, I saw an entirely new side to Kaine Reynolds. He was full of hidden passion and bursting with creativity. He’d poured his heart into these pieces.

  Kaine inspected part of the table, testing the blue epoxy. He was wearing jeans today, and as he bent down, they hugged his thighs and ass. It was the first time I’d seen him in something other than Carhartts. He was delicious.

  We’d been so close to kissing in his kitchen. If I hadn’t suggested the shop tour, we would have ended up having sex in his bedroom.

  I wasn’t ready for that.

  I wasn’t ready to share his bed.

  Over the last few days, I’d thought constantly about Kaine—more than I should have for a casual, no-strings, strictly physical relationship. So I’d decided to put up some boundaries.

  There would be no sleepovers. Cuddling would be kept to a minimum. And I didn’t want to get used to having sex in each other’s beds.

&
nbsp; The camper bed was the only exception. Because it was a temporary home, not my real bed, it didn’t count. Though the couch would have been the safest bet, Kaine was just too big to make that cramped space comfortable for either of us to do some exploration.

  If we kept sex to casual places, I’d be able to maintain some emotional distance. The camper was safe. Even this shop could work.

  Along with the location boundaries, I was also setting some limits on the amount of time we spent together. I was forcing myself to stay away from Kaine for at least three days between hookups. Three days.

  I’d barely made it.

  When I’d gotten home from Logan and Thea’s place early this afternoon, I’d decided to take the rest of the afternoon off and make a magic cake.

  Because I was homesick.

  My family was busy in New York. I’d been busy too, but when I’d lived there, they’d only been a train ride away. I’d taken their closeness for granted. Leaving the city after my divorce had been the right decision. I didn’t regret coming to Montana. Still, I missed my family.

  So in an effort to cheer myself up, I’d decided to make the chocolate cake my aunt had taught me how to make in high school.

  I wasn’t sure if it was the high butter and sugar content or the dark chocolate I bought for the frosting. But it had never once failed to lift my spirits. I’d deemed it magic after it had soothed my broken heart when I’d gotten dumped by my high school boyfriend two days before junior prom.

  Magic cake had helped me through the hardest nights of my divorce when Adam’s pleas to reconcile had worn my emotions raw.

  I’d made the cake in the camper’s tiny oven, then frosted it once it had cooled. I’d debated eating it all myself, but then I’d realized my three-day limit was over. My feet had just carried me over to Kaine’s, cake plate in hand.

  When he’d answered the door shrouded in the grief he wore like a gray mist, I’d known visiting was the right decision. Magic cake to the rescue.

  After more calories than was healthy, the anger and sadness on his face was gone. I’d even earned myself a smile.

  Kaine was still lost in his end table, so I took the quiet minute to study the benches and shelves I’d only just glanced at before.

  There were hooks and drawers for everything. The larger machines all had their place. The shop was right up my alley, organized and structured to the point of near compulsion.

  “I think the way you keep your shop organized is . . . sexy.”

  That got Kaine’s attention. He stood from where he’d been hunched, momentary surprise on his face. Then he schooled his features into what could only be called a smolder.

  The heat in his gaze melted my core, sending a rush of desire between my thighs.

  Kaine stalked toward me like a mountain lion would its prey. His long legs closed the distance between us in a flash, bringing with him the heat we’d sparked in the kitchen. Only now it had magnified tenfold.

  He didn’t stop when he crossed into my space. He didn’t give me any breathing room. Instead, he crushed his chest against mine, then gripped my hips and hoisted me onto the table at my back.

  “Whoa,” I breathed.

  “I want to fuck you.”

  “Yes,” I moaned.

  “I want to fuck you with those shoes digging into my back.”

  My sex clenched, on the verge of a spontaneous orgasm. I nodded, now panting against his bearded cheek. He had yet to kiss me or make his move. Instead, we just breathed the same air. We let the fire between our bodies melt together.

  The skirt of my dress was hiked up my thighs, the material stretching over my hips. My Montana work attire was mostly jeans and a cute top with sandals, but I’d opted for a dress today. Probably because I’d been a bit homesick and wanted to dress like I would have in the city. Even baking my cake, I’d kept on the dress and heels.

  I mentally high-fived myself for being too lazy to change.

  All Kaine had to do was reach between us and he’d find the center of my panties wet.

  Which was exactly what he did. He wasn’t careful or soft as he dove under my skirt. He went for the gusset of my panties like an arrow finding the bullseye.

  “Oh, hell,” I moaned, letting my head go limp toward my shoulder as two of Kaine’s fingers yanked my panties aside and thrust inside my slick heat.

  He curved them, finding the spot that made me squirm. I tilted my hips closer, desperate for some attention on my clit. But he wouldn’t touch me there. He wouldn’t kiss me. He just plunged his fingers in and out, breathing against my mouth.

  I leaned forward, angling my lips for his, but he backed off an inch and shook his head. “I want to watch.”

  I nodded, panting even more as I wiggled closer. I spread my thighs as wide as the stretch of my skirt would allow. With one hand gripping the edge of the table to keep from falling, I used the other to drag the hem up even farther.

  The rough denim covering Kaine’s legs scratched against the sensitive flesh of my inner thighs, all while his fingers kept plundering.

  “Touch yourself,” he commanded, his eyes catching mine. “Show me.”

  I held his eyes as my free hand went between my legs. It slipped into the waistband of my panties and found my aching clit.

  “Fuck.” We moaned the curse together as I let my finger swirl over the hard nub.

  I wanted to close my eyes. I wanted to just disappear, shut out the world and let the pleasure consume me. But I kept my focus on Kaine and the changing colors of his irises. I watched as the gold flared and the green got swallowed by the brown.

  It didn’t take long until I felt my orgasm swell. My finger swirled faster as he stroked my inner walls. Then the explosion came, rolling over every muscle, pulse after pulse.

  Kaine groaned as I clamped down on his fingers. I barely heard the slide of his zipper as I rode out my release. Though I did catch my own whimper as he pressed his crown to my entrance.

  With an easy glide, he replaced his fingers with his cock, stretching my sensitive folds around his width. Just like all of our other times together, he didn’t hold back. He used those powerful hips to leave me breathless on every thrust.

  My legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him close. Then I dug my heels into his ass, earning a hiss.

  Kaine returned the sting by yanking me forward with his meaty grip. His fingertips held a bruising grasp on my ass. That hint of pain mixed with the sensation of his cock thrusting inside had me barreling toward another orgasm.

  It was like falling down a hill. The more you rolled, the faster you went, and there was no holding myself back from coming hard. He’d paralyzed my vocal cords, so all I had was an open mouth as I silently screamed through my release.

  Not Kaine. He let loose the loudest roar I’d ever heard. The sound waves echoed in the cavernous shop, ricocheting off the metal before soaking into the wood.

  As I fought to find my senses, I wrapped my arms around Kaine’s neck and sagged against his chest. He took all my weight, holding me on the slightest edge of the table until I’d finally filled my lungs and calmed my racing heart.

  “Wow.” I leaned away and cracked my eyes open.

  Kaine’s eyes were waiting, staring at me with such intensity that I squirmed on the table. His expression was full of lingering lust and some hesitancy.

  Had sex in the shop been a mistake? Had we just tainted his sacred ground? Or did his worries match mine?

  Was casual sex going to ruin us both?

  We’d only been together a few times, but this fling was exhilarating. It was exciting to look across our shared forest, hoping to catch a glimpse of him as I went in and out of the camper. It was a thrill to see how long I could stay away from his temptation. And learning little things about him was an adventure.

  Like tonight, I’d discovered that his refrigerator was clean but nearly empty. I’d fallen in love with the furniture he made for others.

  “I hope the owners of this t
able don’t mind that we just broke it in for them.” A giggle escaped my lips as Kaine’s chest heaved with a silent laugh.

  He smirked, giving me the same look he had earlier, like he knew something I didn’t.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Nothing.” He shook his head. “I’m sure the owner of this table won’t care that we just fucked on it. But I’ll keep that info out of the care instructions, just in case.”

  “Good call.” I giggled again before he slid out and tucked himself back in his jeans.

  He backed up and held out a hand, helping me down from the table. As I righted my dress, he zipped his fly and fixed the black T-shirt that I’d pulled crooked at some point during our escapades.

  The overhead lights buzzed as silence descended on the shop. I shuffled on my sandals, not sure where to look. Kaine ran a hand over his beard, avoiding my space.

  Should I leave? Should I say something? Thank you, maybe? Clearly, I wasn’t good at the after part of casual sex. If we were in my camper, he would have already been out the door at this point. But I needed to get my cake plate from inside his cabin. It felt weird to just wave good-bye and walk out the door.

  “Where’d you get that scar?”

  Kaine’s question surprised me and I looked up from my feet. He was staring at my hands where I’d absently been rubbing the scar on top of my right wrist.

  “Oh, I, um . . . I cut it on some glass.” That was the short version of a long story.

  I’d been distraught after I’d learned that Adam had kissed his costar. That night, I left our apartment in a daze and walked around the neighborhood block. I made the loop three times as tears streamed down my face.

  When the shock passed, I got so angry that I decided to go to the restaurant and confront my cheating husband.

  Furious and heartbroken, I wasn’t paying much attention to traffic as I walked. About five blocks from the restaurant, I stepped out into the crosswalk—I swore the walk signal was on. I swore it. But I stepped right in front of an oncoming taxi. They swerved, missing me by an inch, and crashed into a light pole. Glass shattered everywhere. Most of my skin was covered, except for my hands. One shard sliced deeply into the back of the hand I used to shield my face.