Hard to Handle (Caine Cousins #2)(37)

Kelly sat at the small desk in his hotel room, his laptop in front of him. He searched the Internet for information on the fire. He knew the damn place had blown because he’d been there to see it.

Well, not right there, but he’d been a mile out and there had been no mistaking the solid boom that had shaken the earth and the fireball that had shot into the sky. It had taken every ounce of his honed patience not to turn around so he could watch the place burn. Instead, he’d had to imagine Amy burning to death inside, those stupid fucks she worked for going with her.

So far, he hadn’t found anything, but he knew it would come.

And this headache would be over once and for all.



Travis Walker sat on the front porch, staring out at the darkness. It was late, but he couldn’t sleep. They’d put the kids to bed hours ago and he probably would’ve been out like a light if Wolfe hadn’t called and given him the news about the explosion at the bar. Now, his brain wouldn’t shut off. Travis was the take-charge kind and sitting on his ass wasn’t working for him.

Only he didn’t have many options at the moment.

The screen door squeaked behind him.

“Hey, you all right?” Kylie asked, coming closer.

He reached for his wife, pulling her into his lap. “Better now,” he said, pressing his face into her neck, breathing her in. She smelled like baby shampoo, probably from when she’d bathed the kids earlier. He loved that smell.

“Gage is still on the phone,” she said softly.

Travis nodded but didn’t lift his head. He knew Gage was on the phone, knew he was working his contacts, wanting to control any news reports that went out on the explosion that had burned that little bar to the ground. Their goal was to buy themselves a little time, to announce that there had been casualties, however, ensuring the reporters were told the bodies would take time to identify. That would allow them the opportunity to put a plan in place.

Sure, that crazy fucker might know otherwise, but he wouldn’t know that no one had been killed in the blast. Thank the Lord.

As soon as the call had come in, as soon as he’d heard Wolfe’s voice, Travis had known the shit had finally hit the fan. Not long after that, more calls had come in. One from RT, another from one of the security agents who was working the case, both telling him the details of what had gone down.

The good news was, this guy was on a short timeline. The bad news was that they weren’t doing enough to stop him. No way should that bastard have been able to get close enough to set an explosive on a goddamn building in the middle of town. It pissed Travis off that they’d let his cousin down, that some good people had nearly died tonight because they’d mistakenly believed they had some time.

The screen door squeaked again.

“Yes, that’s right. And Reese, Travis, and I will be headed that way first thing in the mornin’. I’ll need you to manage the resort while we’re out. We’re gonna meet with Max’s sister…” Pause. “Yeah, the one in law school… She’s on her way down as we speak.” Pause. “No, I don’t know what his plan is, but it’s more than we’ve got, so we’re goin’ with it.”

Travis lifted his head, staring up at his husband. Gage merely nodded when their eyes met.

“Yep, this bastard’s goin’ down,” Gage said gruffly. “Thanks. And let me know how things go.”

When Gage hung up the phone, he took a breath and Travis waited.

“Everything’s in place.” Gage sighed. “Not sure how happy I am that you’ve got mob ties, but … whatever.”

Travis smiled. It was good to have friends. Didn’t matter if they were in low places or not. It still helped.





15


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The instant her brain came online, Reagan knew she was in an unfamiliar bed, an unfamiliar house.

She inhaled and the scent of coffee drifted in from somewhere and she was reminded of her grandfather’s house. Waking up there each morning before school, the smell of coffee and bacon drifting up from the kitchen. Sometimes Reagan missed those days. Being a kid, not having to adult all the damn time. Those were simpler times.

Forcing her eyes open, she squinted against the sun shining into the room and rolled over.

“Oh,” she exhaled sharply, her eyes locking on a familiar face. “Mornin’, Copenhagen.”

The giant dog shifted closer, and she found herself smiling as she reached over and rubbed his head.

“Not used to wakin’ up with strange boys in my bed,” she murmured.

As soon as the words left her mouth, last night came back to her in a rush, and she sighed heavily.

What the hell was she going to do now?

Well, the first thing she needed to do was call the insurance company. That would have to take place after she got out of bed though. Or rather, tomorrow, since it was Sunday. She doubted they were open to take her call. Not that she wouldn’t try. The sooner she got that claim filed, the faster she could find a way to rebuild.

Sure, she could probably sit around, whine and cry about all that she’d lost, but she knew that wasn’t going to help. And she’d never been that kind of girl. She was the take-the-bull-by-the-horns type. Responsible for herself. As it should be.

Forcing herself to sit up, Reagan felt the aches and pains from last night return with a vengeance. Her head was pounding from where she’d hit it on the wall, and she doubled over, clutching her skull with both hands, fighting the wave of nausea that hit her suddenly.