Hard to Handle (Caine Cousins #2)(34)

Reagan seemed content with the answer because she pressed her face against Lynx’s chest once again.

“I’ll take Reagan home with me,” Lynx assured Rhys.

The man’s eyes narrowed.

“I’ve got two guest rooms, man. Not like I’m gonna throw her in my bed and never let her go.” Although he fucking liked that idea. Still, he wouldn’t do it. “You can stop by whenever you want and check on her.”

Rhys seemed to consider that for a moment before nodding. “I will stop by.”

Lynx grinned. “I know. I’ll even leave the door unlocked.”

“You do that,” Rhys stated, then slapped Lynx on the shoulder before walking over to the ambulance.

Leaning down, placing his mouth close to Reagan’s ear, he whispered, “You good with that? I’ll take you home if you want, but I ain’t leavin’ you alone, so don’t ask me to.”

Reagan’s arms tightened around him and that was all the answer Lynx needed.

For a brief second tonight, he’d thought his entire world had been shattered. Again.

It brought back memories of the night they’d gotten the call about his mother. She’d been on her way home from the hospital where she worked. Her car had skidded off the road and gone headfirst into a tree. They said she’d been going too fast for the corner, probably never saw it coming.

Yep, one woman in his life had been stolen far too soon. He wasn’t sure he could handle if Reagan was taken from him, too.

No fucking way was he going to let her out of his sight. Not yet.

Hell, maybe not ever.



Her bar was gone.

Completely burned to a crisp.

According to Rhys, the fire department said it appeared someone had rigged the above-ground propane gas tank behind the building to blow. However, they wouldn’t know for sure until the fire inspector got out there.

Her own gas tank. The one that supplied heat and hot water to the building had been used to blow up her livelihood and damn near kill her and two of her closest friends? Who the hell would do something like that?

Reagan clicked the seat belt into place and took a deep breath, watching the scene before her. It wasn’t as chaotic as it had been earlier, but there was still quite a bit going on. She probably should’ve stuck around, but when Lynx offered to take her back to his place, Reagan hadn’t been able to refuse.

“Give her some love, Cope,” Lynx urged the dog, his gaze briefly swinging toward her as he pulled out onto the main road.

When the dog’s big muzzle nudged her arm, Reagan reached over and gently petted him, leaning her head back against the seat. She was tired. Her body ached from the impact she’d made with the wall. And yes, the paramedic had finally given her a good once-over, telling her she should probably go to the hospital, but at the very least, someone needed to keep an eye on her through the night and not let her sleep for more than an hour or so at a time. Something about a possible concussion.

She was fine.

But her bar was gone.

Reagan sighed.

What she wanted to do was sleep for the next week. Then she wanted to wake up and go back in time to before today. Before she’d had breakfast with Lynx, before she’d known the pleasure he could offer her, and yes, before her entire world had been blown to bits.

“Did you call your mom?” Lynx asked.

“Yeah,” she said softly. “She told me to come stay over there.”

“You want me to take you there?”

“Nope.” She loved her mother, but they didn’t get along. Plus, her grandfather was nothing more than a burly old bear who enjoyed berating her every chance he got. She did not need to listen to either of them harp on her right now. “I’ll stop by there tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

He seemed content with that, but Reagan didn’t open her eyes to look at him. She couldn’t. Not right now. The second she’d seen him racing toward her, Reagan had nearly lost it. And when he wrapped her in his arms, she’d had to fight back the tears that had threatened.

After all she’d said to him that morning, Lynx had still come to check on her in the middle of the damn night. Not only that, but his father had called after Wolfe’s dad had informed him of what happened. Reagan had been shocked when Lynx handed her the phone. She had expected it to be her mother, surprised when the deep, raspy voice so much like Lynx’s had echoed through the phone.

“Reagan, honey? Are you okay?”

“Yes, sir,” she replied softly. “I’m okay.”

“Good. Lynx said the bar burned down.”

“Yes, sir, it did.”

“Well, I don’t want you worryin’ about that tonight. We’ll all be helpin’ you to get it up and runnin’ in no time at all.”

She knew he wasn’t included in that “we” because Cooter never left the house, but Reagan appreciated the sentiment anyway. “Thank you.”

Cooter grunted. “Put Lynx back on, honey.”

Reagan hadn’t heard the rest of the conversation. She’d been too busy trying to ignore the paramedic who wanted to shine a light in her eyes to check her pupils.

“You hungry?” Lynx asked, his hand linking with hers and tugging her arm toward him.

“No.” She wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to eat again. Her heart seemed to have dropped to her stomach and the damn thing throbbed like a bad tooth. She hurt and not only in the physical sense. Her only income had been obliterated in one fell swoop and now she was left with…