Hard to Handle (Caine Cousins #2)(43)

“It doesn’t,” Gage responded. “However, we need time to put a plan in place. Without him here.”

Lynx didn’t seem impressed with the response, but he didn’t say anything in return.

“What about the agents already planted here?” Wolfe inquired.

“They’ll remain here. All eyes are on Amy.” Gage nodded toward her. “They aren’t gonna let this bastard get close again.”

Reagan felt a little relief knowing that they would be keeping tabs on this guy. As much as she wanted this to be over with, she wanted to get her life back to normal. And that required not having to look over her shoulder every second of the day. No, she wasn’t this guy’s target, but it appeared he didn’t care who was collateral damage, and that meant they were all in the line of fire.

At least now, maybe they could relax a little.

Her eyes cut over to Lynx, who was staring back at her.

Then again, relax might no longer be a word in her vocabulary.



Lynx waited until Reagan went outside before he cornered Wolfe, Rhys, Travis, and Gage.

He glanced at each face. “I thought Amy was gonna go public.”

Travis shook his head. “Not yet. It’ll draw too much attention and only drag things out.”

“Drag them out how?” he asked.

“Once this hits the news, people will be all over him. And Amy. We need to lie low for a bit, see what his next step is.”

Lynx looked to Rhys and Wolfe, wanting to know if they were all right with this.

They both nodded in agreement.

“I want eyes on Reagan’s house then,” he demanded. “At all times.”

“Understood,” Rhys stated.

“When she’s there and when she’s not,” Lynx continued. “While everyone’s lookin’ out for Amy, I don’t want Reagan caught in the crossfire.”

Lynx didn’t give a shit that he’d gone territorial on the woman. He was going to protect her. Earlier, when she’d mentioned that she wasn’t worth killing for, the woman had been crazy. Lynx would take down anyone and everyone if it meant keeping her safe.

“Understood,” Travis said, glancing between Lynx and Rhys.

Lynx nodded, then turned to watch as Reagan stepped back through the door. Her eyes met his.

“If you need anything, you know how to get ahold of me,” Lynx told Rhys before moving over to Reagan. “You okay?”

She nodded, her eyes studying his face momentarily. “You really don’t mind if I borrow your truck for a little while?”

“Not at all.” He pulled the key from his pocket and handed it over to her.

“Do you want me to take you to your dad’s?” she offered.

“I’ll have Wolfe drop me off. Thanks though.”

She nodded, but her eyes didn’t hold his gaze for long. “I need to get home and take care of some stuff. I’ll talk to you later?”

He smiled. “You can bet on it.”

This time Reagan smiled and it seemed less forced than before. “Thank you again.”

“Any time.” And he meant that.

“Hey, old man!” Lynx called out to his father when he stepped inside the house an hour later.

“Kid,” Cooter grumbled, sounding as though Lynx had woken him from his nap.

“I need to borrow your truck,” he announced when he joined his dad in the living room.

Sure enough, Cooter was leaning back in his recliner, the television muted.

“You know where the keys are,” he replied.

“I remember back when I was sixteen and I asked to borrow that truck,” Lynx teased. The ’65 Chevy was his dad’s prized possession. He wasn’t keen on letting anyone drive it. “Or what about the time I snuck it outta the garage?” Lynx had made it almost to the road before his father had stopped him on their riding lawnmower of all things.

“Yeah, don’t remind me or I might change my mind.” The recliner shifted upright.

“I’m gonna need it for a few days.”

Cooter nodded, then reached over to pet Copenhagen when the dog ambled up to him. “Somethin’ wrong with yours?”

“Nope. I let Reagan borrow it.”

This time his father looked his way, his eyes questioning. “She doin’ all right?”

“Fine. Her truck was damaged durin’ the fire at the bar, apparently. I’m havin’ it sent down to Roy’s. See if they can get it up and runnin’.” Lynx left off the fact that the truck was pretty much toast. He was still hoping for the best. For Reagan’s sake.

Cooter turned. “Somethin’ goin’ on with you and Reagan?”

Lynx automatically shook his head.

“You sure ’bout that?”

“I’m sure.” It wasn’t a lie. There wasn’t anything going on with him and Reagan. Not yet anyway.

“That divorce final?”

“Almost.” Come tomorrow, he would be free and clear.

“Tammy stopped by here this mornin’,” Cooter informed him.

Lynx sighed. He should’ve known. She’d probably stopped by after Lynx had sent her on her way.

“She said you had a girlfriend.”

Great. He knew one day his big mouth would come back to bite him in the ass.