Hard to Handle (Caine Cousins #2)(2)

The tiny, wood-framed bar smelled the same as always. Like beer and stale pretzels, not to mention sweat and a whole lot of verbal bullshit. Sure, that shit had a smell, too. He could usually sniff it out a mile away and it seemed tonight the aroma was extra potent.

“Hey, brotha’,” Wolfe greeted from his spot at the bar.

“What’s up, hoss?” Lynx gave his cousin a knuckle bump. “Thanks,” he told Reagan when she passed him over a beer.

He let his eyes track her from one side to the other. Of course, the stubborn minx didn’t respond. But her cute little nose lifted, and the defiant tilt to her chin made his dick hard. Then again, everything about Reagan Trevino made his dick hard. All five foot five sweet inches of her.

“We need to talk, Reagan. Come on, babe. Please.”

Lynx’s gaze snapped to the opposite end of the bar, where he saw Billy Watson leaning on the wooden top, begging like a little bitch. Lynx glanced at Wolfe, who shot him a quick eye roll. Turning back to the scene, Lynx gave them his full attention.

“You know I’m not leavin’ till we do,” Billy droned.

Looked as though the fucker had finally realized what he’d lost when he let Reagan go a solid month ago. It appeared he was back to the same old bullshit, trying to get in her good graces and convince her to take him back.

Lynx wanted to punch him in the face. The little pussy didn’t deserve Reagan. Hell, he didn’t deserve any woman. He had absolutely no respect and that shit was what pissed Lynx off the most.

“Come on, honey. I know you ain’t serious. You love me. Don’t deny it. It’s time for you to come back home. Put the past in the past.”

The past he was referring to was the pussy Billy had been getting for the past thirty-three days — yep, he’d counted — ever since Reagan up and moved out on the asshole. The guy had no qualms about flaunting the fact that he was making up for lost time with any woman who’d give him the time of day.

A killing rage burned just beneath Lynx’s skin, his need to do some serious bodily harm ratcheting up a few hundred notches. When a man loved a woman, or even claimed to love a woman, he just didn’t do stupid shit like that. Ever.

“I told you, Billy. I’m done,” Reagan hissed, apparently trying to keep her voice down. “Now, just leave it be.”

“Whatever.” Billy huffed. “That’s bullshit and you know it. Quit fuckin’ around and just come home.”

Reagan leaned over the bar, getting right up in Billy’s face. “It’s not my home,” she snapped. “I’m done. It’s over. Get used to it.”

Lynx waited, counting down silently in his head. He knew Billy, knew the man’s temper would get the best of him. Lynx had spent the better part of a decade watching as Billy treated Reagan like shit, then sitting back and dealing when she took the sorry fucker back.

As much as he’d wanted to intervene, Lynx knew it wasn’t his place. Then or now.

Good news was it looked as though she might be done this time for good.

Lynx could only hope, because it was high time he moved on with his life, and the only way he intended to do that was to have that woman in his bed, where she belonged. However, he wasn’t talking for only one night. His intentions toward her were along the lines of forever and a day.

The hardest part was going to be convincing her.

Fortunately, Lynx was always up for a challenge.

“What the fuck you lookin’ at?”

Lynx allowed his gaze to slip to the right of Reagan. That was when he realized Billy was talking to him. Unable to help himself, Lynx smiled. “A hairy asshole.” Lynx glanced back at his cousin. “Right? That’s what you see, too?”

“Yep,” Wolfe agreed. “A hairy asshole with teeth.”

Lynx turned back to Billy.

It was Friday night.

Everyone in this town knew that the Caines could generally be persuaded out to the parking lot for a little throw-down action. Lynx was more than willing to clear the way for him and Billy to go outside. He’d been itching to beat the guy’s ass for a long damn time.

“Don’t do it, Billy,” Reagan warned.

“Fuck you,” he muttered. “I shoulda known you were fuckin’ him. Prob’ly been fuckin’ him the whole time we were together.”

Same shit, different day. Billy always took that route, no matter what. Truthfully, it was getting old.

“Ain’t that right?” Billy asked Lynx directly. “You been lettin’ her hoover your dick while she was hooverin’ mine?”

No one said Lynx was known for his social skills.

Before the dickhead could draw another breath, Lynx was in Billy’s face, his fist in the asshole’s shirt as he lifted him off the ground. “What’d I tell you about talkin’ about her like that?” Lynx dropped him to his feet. “Let’s take this outside. You and me. Once and for all.”

“Fuck you,” Billy spat.

“You get off talkin’ shit about a woman? That make you feel like a big boy?” Lynx glared down at him, the rage building inside him. “Make you feel like your dick’s bigger’n it is?”

“You been thinkin’ ’bout my dick?” Billy countered with a grin that showed off yellowed teeth and the lip full of dip he was known to have.