Hard to Handle (Caine Cousins #2)(22)

“What d’ya say we start over?” he suggested after several seconds of painful silence. “How ’bout we forget about Tammy and Billy and just try to leave them in the past, where they belong?”

Reagan’s gaze lifted to his face, studying him. It was as though she suspected he had a double meaning for everything he said. Finally she nodded. “Okay. I’d like that.”

Good. Because Lynx wasn’t sure he could tolerate thinking about Reagan and Billy together. Every time he did, he wanted to put his fist through the fucking wall.

“Here you go, kids,” Donna announced as she plopped their plates on the table.

“Thanks.”

“Yep.” And she was off.

“If we’re not talkin’ about … you know … then what exactly are we gonna talk about?” Reagan asked, forking her pancakes into small bites.

He honestly didn’t have the first clue, but hell. They could talk about the damn weather just as long as he got to sit here with her.

For Lynx, that was all that fucking mattered.



Sharing a meal with Lynx was the most awkward thing Reagan had done in … forever. Maybe ever.

Sure, she’d fantasized about what it would be like to spend time with him like this. Although this certainly wasn’t a date, she’d even thought about that, too. Those damn fantasies had been around since she was sixteen years old. However, she had never thought they’d come to fruition. And certainly not like this.

The tension between them was thick enough to cut with a knife, and she knew that was partially her fault. Even though he’d suggested they leave the past in the past, Reagan knew it wasn’t that easy for her.

For one, she’d spent so long watching Lynx parade around town with one woman after another.

Well, okay, so maybe he hadn’t paraded, but he’d been seen and she’d heard about it, and her heart didn’t seem to know the difference. Every time she thought about Lynx with another woman, it was like she’d ingested acid and it was eating away at the lining of her stomach.

“Where’d you meet Tammy?” she found herself asking before she could think better of it.

Lynx’s hard gaze lifted to meet hers. She could see the frustration there.

“It’s just conversation,” she told him.

“Here,” he told her. “In Embers Ridge.”

“Really?” How had she not known that?

He nodded, putting his fork down and picking up his coffee mug. “She had a girls’ retreat out at DHR. She was at Marla’s Bar one night.”

DHR was the locals’ reference to Dead Heat Ranch, likely the most popular dude ranch in central Texas. People came from far and wide to visit for family reunions, birthday parties, summer vacations, and apparently, girls’ retreats.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” His tone was a little harder than before. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to talk about somethin’ else.”

“Like?”

“Like you finishin’ those pancakes so we can get outta here.”

Reagan glanced down at Lynx’s plate, realizing he’d already finished his food and she’d hardly even started.

With a shy smile, she picked up her fork.

“What do you wanna do after this?” he asked, watching her as she chewed.

Frowning, Reagan tried to come up with something to say. Something that sounded a lot like, “I don’t think we should do anything after this.” Unfortunately, that’s not what came out of her mouth. In fact, nothing came out of her mouth, but she did manage an indecisive shrug.

“The lake it is,” he said quickly.

Reagan instantly shook her head. “No. I can’t.”

Holy crap. That was the absolute last place she wanted to go with Lynx. Extended lengths of time with him would be hard enough. Somewhere secluded like that… No way could she trust herself then.

As though he had expected her rebuttal, Lynx smiled. “Fine. But I wanna take you over to the shop. Show you somethin’.”

Reagan’s sex-starved brain instantly thought about him showing her his sexy, naked body, but she shook off the thought. No way was she going that route. Not with Lynx. Certainly not until he held up his end of the bargain. Although two days wasn’t a long time, it was still necessary. Once his divorce was final, she would consider an alternate ending, but until then, Reagan had absolutely no desire to get mixed up with the notable bad boy of Embers Ridge.

No matter how much she found herself wanting to.

Half an hour later, after Reagan finished eating and Lynx paid the bill — despite her loud refusal — Reagan was pulling into the parking lot of the warehouse where Lynx and his cousin spent their days building furniture. She had adamantly refused to go, but Lynx had turned on that damn charm and she found herself following him.

It still pissed her off that her brain wasn’t doing what her heart wanted it to. She should’ve been heading home, not willingly spending more time with Lynx, yet here she was.

“Come on, girl,” he said, opening her truck door.

With a sigh, Reagan hopped out and did her best not to look Lynx in the eye.

It took a minute or two to get inside because Lynx had to unlock the door and disengage the alarm, then turn on the lights. Once that was done, that damn tension had returned to Reagan’s shoulders, only this time, it was threatening to steal her breath from her lungs. It was one thing to go out in public with this man, something else entirely to follow him into an otherwise empty warehouse.