Hard to Handle (Caine Cousins #2)(44)

“I don’t have a girlfriend, Dad.”

“No?”

Lynx shook his head. “We’re just friends. And Dad, please don’t talk to Tammy.”

Cooter grinned. “She’s a nice girl. Got her priorities all mixed up, sure. But a nice kid.”

Priorities being her need to lie about being pregnant to get him to marry her in the first place. Or to fuck other men while they were married.

It wasn’t that Lynx even gave a shit about it. He didn’t care if she screwed every ranch hand who worked in Embers Ridge. He never should’ve married her in the first place, and no one regretted his actions more than he did. Had she really been pregnant, Lynx could’ve and would’ve been a good dad regardless.

“You be careful with Reagan,” Cooter stated, his eyes locked with Lynx’s.

“I will.”

“That girl’s been through enough shit already.”

“Trust me, I know that.”

“And she’s always had a thing for you, Lynx. If this ain’t real, don’t lead her on.”

Lynx paused for a minute, staring at his father. He wanted so badly to tell him that it was real, that, in fact, it was everything. However, Lynx had been down this road before. He’d defended himself when he had up and married Tammy, and look where that had gotten him.

“I know you care about her,” Cooter continued.

Lynx didn’t respond. He couldn’t.

“It’s obvious to anyone with eyes. Especially these past few weeks.”

He offered his dad a one-shoulder shrug.

“Be careful with her,” his father repeated.

“I will,” he said softly.

It was Cooter’s turn to nod, and thankfully, that meant the subject was closed.

For now.





18


__________


Knowing she couldn’t put it off indefinitely, Reagan made a pit stop on her way home. Dropping by to check in with her mother was not something she had looked forward to, even if deep down she wished it could be different between them. She couldn’t remember a time when there wasn’t tension between her and her mother. Even as a teenager — especially as a teenager — she’d butted heads with her more often than not.

Then, when Reagan had started dating Billy, her mother hadn’t been impressed. However, she’d learned to deal with it as time went by, until one day, her mother started backing Billy more than her. Reagan wasn’t sure how that had happened, or why. And she damn sure wasn’t going to think about it now.

“Whose truck is that?” her grandfather bellowed through the open window when Reagan stepped onto the front porch.

Reagan sighed, opening the screen door and moving into the dimly lit living room. Her grandfather was sitting in his usual spot, a cigarette dangling from his fingers.

“A friend’s,” she told him.

“What friend?”

Telling him the truth would likely only make things worse, but Reagan didn’t want to get caught up in a lie. So, she took a deep breath and prepared for the worst.

Before she could get the words out, her mother came storming out of the kitchen, her eyes wide.

“Reagan Marie,” she said in a huff. “Why didn’t you come by last night?”

She didn’t have time to answer before her mother threw her arms around her and hugged her tightly.

“I was so worried.”

“I’m fine, Mom,” Reagan assured her.

“But your bar blew up. With you in it.” Her mother sounded hysterical.

“I know. But no one was hurt.” Not really anyway.

“Where’d you go last night?” her grandfather asked.

Once again, Reagan found herself tight-lipped.

“Whose truck is that?” her mother asked, peering over Reagan’s shoulder through the screen door.

“Lynx Caine’s,” she blurted, preparing for the worst.

“Why are you drivin’ his truck?”

“Mine was damaged in the fire.”

“Christ Almighty,” her mother said dramatically.

“I hope you’re not mixin’ it up with that Caine boy,” Vic insisted. “He’s bad news.”

“Where’s Billy?” her mother asked, talking over her grandfather. “What does he think about this?”

“About what?” Reagan frowned, trying to read between the lines.

“About you drivin’ that boy’s truck.”

“Mom, Billy and I broke up.”

She waved Reagan off. “That won’t last forever and you know it.”

Arguing wasn’t going to get her anywhere, so Reagan opted to take the high road. “I just wanted to stop by, check in. I’m good, I promise.”

“You ain’t good if you’re drivin’ that truck,” Vic said, his eyes focused on her. “That boy’s bad news,” he repeated.

“He’s not bad news,” she insisted. “He’s a friend and he’s loanin’ me his truck until I can get mine fixed.”

“Shoulda known you’d go messin’ up a good thing,” her mother grumbled.

The words, no matter how often her mother said them, still shocked Reagan every time. She knew Billy played a big part in it. He fed her mother lies until Reagan looked like the bad guy every time.