Hard to Handle (Caine Cousins #2)(41)

The door opened and the bells overhead jingled. Almost instantly, Lynx sat up, a grin on his handsome face.

“Well, congratulations, ma’am!” he hollered, his tone exuberant. “Hey, Donna! How ’bout we get some more coffee over here. We’ve got a real live lawyer-to-be in our presence. Madison Adorite is in the house.”

Rhys and Wolfe both chuckled, as did Travis and Gage.

However, Madison didn’t appear to be fazed by the announcement.

Then again, if her family was really mafia, as Rhys had said, she probably wasn’t fazed by much of anything.



By the time they were finished chatting it up at the diner, Lynx was more confused than when he’d arrived. He had no clue what Travis’s intentions were with this whole Adorite-in-town thing. Were they looking to draw this asshole out? By dangling the mafia in his face? How the hell was that supposed to help?

There seemed to be some serious holes in this plan, but Lynx wasn’t sure how to voice his concerns. It was as though everyone else was trying to wrap their brains around it, too.

While Rhys and Wolfe remained with Travis, Gage, and Madison, Lynx excused himself. He had sensed Reagan’s discomfort when they first arrived, and he knew she was ready to bolt. Personally, he wasn’t all that interested in sitting around and shooting the shit right now. He had things to do, starting with getting in touch with some people who owed him some favors.

“Would you mind takin’ me to get my truck?” Reagan asked when they stepped outside.

“Sure.” He’d known this was coming, knew he couldn’t keep her at his side indefinitely. However, he couldn’t deny that he’d enjoyed spending the morning with her, sitting by her side, putting his arm around her.

“Thanks.”

Lynx walked Reagan to the passenger-side door, opened it, then waited for her to get inside. As he was heading around to the driver’s side, his cousin appeared.

“Hey, man,” Wolfe called out.

Lynx tilted his chin in question. “S’up?”

“We’re gonna head back to the house so Amy can talk to Madison, tell her the story. Was wonderin’ if maybe you could stop by there. She’s takin’ this really hard. It’s killin’ her that Reagan was hurt last night.” Wolfe glanced over at Reagan. “Think maybe you could talk her into comin’, too?”

“Absolutely. I’ll be wherever you need me, and I’ll tell Reagan. I’m sure she’ll wanna be there.”

“Thanks, man.” Wolfe clapped him on the shoulder. “This shit’s gonna be over with soon. Then we can all get back to normal.”

Lynx wasn’t even sure what normal was anymore. Not for him anyway. However, he was looking forward to this shit going down once and for all.

“See ya in a few.” After a quick knuckle bump, Wolfe turned and headed back inside the diner while Lynx sauntered to the driver’s-side door of his truck.

Once inside, Lynx turned to Reagan.

“Wolfe asked us to come out to his place. Thought Amy would appreciate it. She’s gonna talk to that lawyer chick.”

“Of course,” Reagan said quickly. “Amy’s my friend.”

“And he said Amy’s takin’ it hard.” He nodded toward her. “The fact that you got hurt last night.”

“This ain’t her fault,” Reagan declared.

No, it wasn’t. They both knew that. But guilt could be an evil bitch, not always making sense.

“Let’s get your truck,” Lynx told her, starting the engine.

Neither of them spoke on the short ride over to the sheriff’s department. However, there was a lot to be said once they pulled into the small lot.

“Holy shit,” Reagan hissed. “My … truck.”

Yeah. Holy shit was right. Rhys had said he’d taken Reagan’s truck over to the station, but he hadn’t bothered to mention that he’d had to have the damn thing towed.

Lynx glanced over at Reagan. She looked on the verge of tears, but once again, the woman held them back. She was tough, always had been. It was one of the things he loved about her. One of the many things.

“Hey,” he said, pulling her attention over to him. “You can take my truck until we can get yours…” He let that drift off because the charred front end of her truck didn’t look as though it was going to be repairable.

“No,” she insisted. “I can’t do that, Lynx. What’ll you drive?”

“My old man’s truck,” he told her quickly. “Ain’t like he’s usin’ it.” Lynx grinned, trying to ease some of the tension. “Trust me, it’s no hardship. I happen to be quite fond of that truck.”

She took a deep breath, met his eyes, then nodded slightly. “For a few days, maybe. I’d really appreciate it.”

He wanted to tell her he’d do any-damn-thing for her.

“Let’s head to Wolfe’s then,” Lynx said, backing out of the parking lot. “And I’ll have Wolfe run me over to get it.”

Reagan didn’t say anything and Lynx wasn’t expecting her to, so when she unbuckled her seat belt and shifted over to the middle seat, he found himself holding his breath.

And when she reached over and took his hand, linking their fingers together, he forgot how to breathe altogether. It got even worse when she leaned her head over and rested it on his shoulder.