Hard to Handle (Caine Cousins #2)(38)

“What do you think you’re doin’?”

The gruff, raspy voice came from behind her, but Reagan didn’t move. “Right now? I’m tryin’ not to puke my guts up on your pretty wood floor. When that passes, I’m gonna take another shower.”

There was a soft grunt that sounded closer. She managed to sit up straight, take several deep breaths, and get the world to stop spinning.

“Here.”

She looked up to see Lynx holding a couple of pills and a glass of water.

“Ibuprofen,” he added.

“Thanks.” Doing her best not to touch him, she took the two pills from his hand and tossed them in her mouth before taking the water glass. Once those were down, she took a deep breath.

“You hungry?”

Her stomach lurched at the mere thought of food. “No. Thanks.”

“When you’re outta the shower and feelin’ better, we’ll head into town. Rhys took your truck to the station. We can pick it up there.”

She nodded but kept her eyes on his legs as they moved out of her line of sight.

Lynx clicked his tongue twice. “C’mon, Cope. Let’s get you some food.”

Reagan managed to breathe a little easier when Lynx was out of the room. He seemed to overwhelm her with his presence, not to mention his kindness. Yesterday she’d been a total bitch to him and today he was taking care of her. Honestly, she had no idea why, either.

Twenty minutes later, Reagan was showered and dressed. She had managed to finger comb her wet hair, and she’d used Lynx’s toothpaste — her finger sufficed as a toothbrush — to bring herself to a relative state of normal. Her head didn’t hurt nearly as bad, nor did her body, which she considered a good thing. She had too damn much to do to deal with that shit right now.

The second she walked out of the bedroom, there was a knock on the front door. She stopped, glanced at it, then over at Lynx, who was standing in the kitchen. He shrugged, as though to say he had no idea who could possibly be there. Since she was closer, Reagan headed that way.

Figuring it was her brother coming to check on her, Reagan pulled it open and came face-to-face with…

“Who are you?” the woman hissed, glaring back at Reagan.

Oh, what a way to start the day. With Lynx’s wife standing on the front porch.

Reagan gave a small smirk. “The fuckin’ maid. Who’re you?”

Without waiting for a response, Reagan spun on her heel and headed for the kitchen, rolling her eyes at Lynx as she passed.

“What the hell are you doin’ here?” Lynx growled, moving toward the door.

“I heard what happened,” Tammy said, her tone sugary-sweet. “I wanted to check on you. Make sure you were all right.”

Right.

“You shouldn’t be here, Tammy,” he snapped.

Reagan turned to face the door, noticing how Tammy tried to peek in the house. One thing Reagan never wanted to be was the other woman. Damn good thing she hadn’t acted on her impulses last night. Lying in bed with Lynx, she’d been slammed with a desire so powerful it was a surprise she’d slept at all. However, she’d managed to refrain from jumping him.

And the woman standing at the front door was proof Reagan had no business being here with this man. The guy had a wife, for fuck’s sake.

Granted, their divorce would be final in… She had to think on that a minute, counting the days off on her fingers. Today? Or was it tomorrow? It was Sunday, right?

Shit. She had no freaking clue and it didn’t even matter.

“Why is the maid here on a Sunday, Lynx?”

Reagan had to slam her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

“She’s not the maid,” Lynx informed her.

Reagan’s breath lodged in her chest as she waited to hear him explain who she was. More than likely, he’d launch into a long story about how she was a friend, or even Rhys’s sister and he was just helping out.

“Who the fuck is she?” Tammy snarled, sounding more like she did when Reagan opened the door.

“She’s my goddamn girlfriend, Tammy. Fuck.”

Reagan’s eyes flew open and she stared at Lynx’s back.

What.

The.

Fuck?



It took everything in him not to turn around and look at Reagan. He wanted to know what her response was to that declaration, but he had to consider his priorities here. And the first on his list was to get Tammy off his fucking property.

ASAP.

“You need to go,” he told her roughly, stepping out onto the porch and closing the door behind him.

“You’re still married, Lynx Caine.”

He cocked one eyebrow lazily. She knew that wasn’t true. Sure, there were a few measly hours left until it was all said and done, but so fucking what. Tammy had gotten what she wanted; he’d practically given her every-damn-thing just to get her out of his life. The only thing left was for the waiting period to be over. Then, he’d be free and clear to move on with his life.

And if Reagan had an issue with him calling her his girlfriend, so fucking what. If she wasn’t yet, she would be soon, and he didn’t give a shit if Tammy wanted to go and shout that to anyone who would listen.

Tammy’s face softened somewhat. “So, you’re really okay?”