Hard to Handle (Caine Cousins #2)(4)
“Don’t fight him,” she said, keeping her tone casual. “It’s not worth it.”
“Oh, it’s worth it,” he countered, reaching down and lifting her arm so he could inspect the spot where Billy had grabbed her.
She jerked out of his hold. It was a survival instinct. The man had put his hands on her once and she had never forgotten it. Her body had never forgotten how freaking good it felt for this man to touch her. And her heart had never forgotten just what being with him could be like. She seriously doubted she ever would forget it, either.
“Just leave it alone,” she snapped.
“Why?” Lynx put one hand on the wall above her head.
He was significantly taller than she was, a hell of a lot bigger, too. But Reagan still wasn’t intimidated by him. He could offer a pissed-off glare to any asshole in a five-mile radius, but the moment he turned his eyes on her, there was always something softer in them. Something she’d fought to ignore for longer than she cared to admit.
“’Cause I have no intention of bailin’ your ass outta jail.”
“Aww, darlin’,” he crooned, leaning in so that he was far too close. “You worried about me?”
Reagan rolled her eyes and tried not to inhale through her nose. The man smelled so freaking good. He always did and it drove her absolutely crazy. Like sawdust and Irish Spring soap. No, it wasn’t something expensive from a bottle, but it affected her all the same.
Another thing that drove her crazy was his lack of respect for her personal space. As he leaned in closer, Reagan had no choice but to back up against the wall. Her entire body hummed as he stood there, staring down at her as though he wanted to eat her for dessert.
She wanted him to. There was no denying that. But Reagan wasn’t an idiot. If she thought she could get away with a short-term fling with Lynx, she might be up to the task. Well, except for the fact that he’d slept with damn near every woman in this town and a shit ton more who weren’t from around here. Hell, she wasn’t even sure his divorce was final.
Yep, and wasn’t that the shit. Ol’ Lynx Caine had up and married some two-bit hussy from fucking Austin, of all places.
The memory of him coming back to town announcing that he’d gotten hitched to that crazy bitch was like an ice bath to her nerves. It shocked her back to reality and caused her to slip out from under his arm.
“Just let it be, Lynx,” Reagan told him, not looking back.
Making her way to the bar, Reagan searched the room until she found Billy. Wolfe was keeping him corralled in the corner.
Reagan locked eyes with her ex-boyfriend, then pointed to the doors. “Get out. You’re not welcome in my bar.”
“Oh, come on, Reag—”
“You heard the lady,” Wolfe said, his tone ringing with amusement as he grabbed Billy by the shirt and shoved him toward the exit.
“You’ll be sorry you did this, Reagan! Goddammit!”
She shook her head. “No. I’m sorry for a lotta things I’ve done” — mainly wasting nearly a decade of her life with a piece of crap who treated her like shit — “but not this.”
Billy’s eyes strayed to something over her shoulder at the same time Reagan felt the warmth of Lynx’s body as he pressed up against her.
Even from here she could feel how hard his body was, how freaking warm his skin was.
Her traitorous heart skipped a beat and her belly fluttered.
“I ain’t worried,” Billy told Lynx. “You’ll be tossin’ her out like last week’s garbage in a week tops,” he snarled. “Like me, you’ll get tired of fuckin’ the skank.”
Yeah. Okay.
For about three seconds there, Billy had been home free. He could’ve turned around, head held high, and walked right out that door…
Unfortunately for him, the asshole never did know when to shut up.
This time when Lynx went after him, Reagan didn’t bother to stop him.
In fact, she silently egged him on.
2
__________
“Dammit, Lynx!” Rhys Trevino shouted. “I take another right hook from you and I’ll make sure you spend the night in jail!”
Lynx shoved Billy one last time before taking a step back, his anger burning white-hot. The damn sheriff always showed up and ruined shit for him.
“Chill,” Rhys hissed, taking Lynx by the arm and pulling him farther away from Billy.
Lynx didn’t even bother to put up a fight when Rhys went to cuff him. Spending the night in jail was definitely worth the ass-whooping he’d just dished out. It was quite possible Billy Watson would be walking with a limp for the rest of his sorry life.
“You’re goddamn right I’m pressin’ charges,” Billy declared, talking to the deputy as he wiped blood from his lip. “The asshole attacked me.”
“Just like always,” Lynx stated, loving how he could so easily rile the pussy. “Cryin’ like a bitch. You still breastfeedin’, boy?”
“Fuck you,” Billy spat before a devious smirk tilted his lips up in a snarl. “Not sure why you think you’re all high and mighty. I ain’t the one in cuffs.”
Lynx didn’t respond; he simply cocked an eyebrow, waiting for the rest.
Sure enough, he wasn’t disappointed.