Hard to Handle (Caine Cousins #2)(20)
“What do you wanna do after you graduate?” Lynx asked, his raspy tone making her body warm significantly.
“I’ve still got two years,” she told him.
“I know.” He peered over at her. “But when you do graduate?”
Reagan shrugged. “Not really sure.”
“You wanna leave Embers Ridge?”
Reagan shook her head. That was about the only thing she knew for certain. She was a small-town girl through and through. There wasn’t enough money in the world to get her to move to the big city.
Lynx grinned, but it was sad. “You gonna settle down, have lotsa babies?”
As she stared out at the water, Reagan’s belly flipped. Only if they’re your babies, she thought.
“What about you?” she asked, changing the direction of the conversation. “You wanna leave Embers Ridge?”
“Nope,” he told her with certainty. “Plan to open a furniture store with Wolfe later this year.”
“Yeah?”
“Yep. We already got it all mapped out.”
For a few minutes, they stared at one another, sparks bouncing back and forth between them. Reagan had always felt them, but she knew it wasn’t the same for Lynx. He was the type of boy who didn’t have one girlfriend. He had several, and never anything serious.
“Why’re you here, Reagan?”
She shrugged again. “I was worried about you.”
That seemed to confuse him.
At some point during that conversation, they had moved closer, until Reagan’s thigh was pressed up against Lynx’s. They sat on that tailgate, under the stars and the full moon while country music filtered out from the cab of Lynx’s truck. It had been the best night of her life. And then, when Lynx had kissed her…
Throwing the blankets off her legs, Reagan bolted out of bed. She couldn’t lie there and think about him forever. She needed to get a move on. Not that it would take her long to get ready to meet him for breakfast, but she needed something to do to keep her mind occupied. A shower was a good start.
Two hours later, Reagan was pulling into the diner. She noticed Lynx’s big blue Chevy was already there, and the flurry of butterflies erupted in her belly. She hated those damn butterflies. They irked the shit out of her. Why couldn’t they keep themselves contained around him?
Climbing out, she kept her eyes trained on the gravel, which was the very reason she didn’t notice Lynx climb out of his truck and head her way. Before she could reach the door handle, a big hand shot out around her, opening it for her. She was mesmerized by the ink that covered his arm, the back of his hand, his knuckles.
“Mornin’,” he crooned softly against her ear.
Goose bumps prickled her skin and Reagan fought off the shiver that threatened to race down her spine.
This was such a bad idea. She should be at home, tucked into bed, dreaming about…
Yeah. Okay. So that didn’t help.
Lynx Caine seemed to be invading her thoughts. Asleep, awake, it didn’t matter.
“Mornin’,” she mumbled, stepping inside as he held the door. “Thanks.”
A warm hand gently pressed against her lower back, and she inadvertently sucked in a shocked breath, hoping like hell Lynx hadn’t noticed. She peered over at him, trying to keep her face shielded by her hair. It didn’t help. He noticed and he was smiling.
Jerk.
When he pulled out her chair, Reagan tried not to even think about it. She’d spent so long in a relationship with a man who put himself first, she wasn’t used to someone opening doors or pulling out chairs. It shouldn’t surprise her. That’s the way Lynx was. He could charm the underpants right off a nun.
“Sleep well?”
She jerked her eyes up to his. “Yes. Actually,” she lied effortlessly.
When it came to Lynx Caine, a lie wasn’t a bad thing.
It was self-preservation.
9
__________
“What can I get y’all?” Donna asked when she approached the table.
Lynx peered up at the diner’s owner and grinned.
Recognition dawned on the older woman’s face and a rare smile tilted her thin lips.
“Well, I’ll be. Just when I thought nothin’ stranger than seein’ your cousin with a guy and a gal could happen.” Donna grinned over at Reagan. “Then the two of you show up together and prove me wrong.”
“We’re not together,” Reagan countered.
Lynx winked at Donna.
“The usual?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Lynx confirmed.
“And you, dear?”
Reagan nodded, clearly not pleased with Donna’s reaction. Or lack thereof.
“Yeah. The usual. Please.”
Donna chuckled and wandered back to the counter.
“You know this is your fault, right?” Reagan hissed softly, her eyes pinned on him.
“What’s my fault?” Lynx watched as Reagan brushed her long, silky hair over her shoulder.
“These people are gonna think we’re together.”
He was banking on that. But he said, “And that’s a bad thing?”
She glared at him. “I’m not gonna be your flavor of the week, Lynx Caine. No matter what you think.”