2
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“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.
“And I ain’t the one goin’ to jail tonight. You are.” Spittle flew from Billy’s mouth. “And just think, while you’re takin’ it in the ass, I’ll be fuckin’ Reagan.” Billy’s lip curled up before he turned and spit on the ground. When he turned back, he was grinning. “Prob’ly just bend her over the back of the couch, that way I don’t have to look at her face.”
Lynx lunged and Billy stumbled backward. Before he could get close enough — cuffs be damned — Rhys put a hand on Lynx’s chest.
Then Reagan’s brother — the sheriff of Lee County — spun around to face Billy. “You wanna repeat that?” Rhys rumbled. “’Cause if you do, I’m gonna hand my badge and my gun over to Dean and I’m gonna be the one beatin’ your ass into the ground. That’s my fuckin’ sister you’re talkin’ about.”
“That’s the problem with little boys these days,” Wolfe stated. “No respect.”
The heated glare Lynx’s cousin gave Billy said that it wouldn’t matter that Lynx was in the tank tonight. Wolfe was still out there.
“Maybe you wanna reconsider pressin’ charges?” Dean questioned Billy as he pulled out his notepad. “’Fore you get your ass in any deeper?”
Billy met Lynx’s eyes. Lynx cocked one eyebrow. He’d willingly go to jail, but he wouldn’t be staying there indefinitely. They both knew it. And when he got out…
“I’ve got an idea.”
Lynx’s attention jerked over to Reagan as she sauntered over.
His mouth practically watered as she moved toward him, her dark brown eyes reflecting both frustration and amusement. Those damn low-slung jeans and the body-hugging T-shirt that just met the top of them made his dick twitch. The way her long dark hair hung over her shoulder had Lynx thinking about wrapping those silky strands around his fist while he fucked them both into oblivion.
Goddamn, she made him so fucking hard.
Damn sure didn’t help that he’d spent ten fucking years wanting to get his hands on her.
When she got close enough, Reagan turned to Billy. “Why don’t you drop the bullshit and I won’t get a restrainin’ order.”
“I don’t give a good goddamn about no restrainin’ order,” Billy retorted.
“Not even if it ensures you’ll never come inside my bar again?” she asked, her dark eyebrows lifting. “’Cause I won’t hesitate to kick your ass right out the next time you show up here. And I’m pretty sure half the town’ll have my back.”
That seemed to get Billy’s attention. Although, Lynx had to wonder why Reagan hadn’t refused to serve him until now.
“You wouldn’t do that,” Billy told her, although Lynx could tell he didn’t believe his own words.
“Try me.” She leaned closer but still kept her distance. “And when I go down to the sheriff’s department to file that, I’ll bail Lynx outta jail, too.”
Billy glared, but for the first time all damn night, the fucker didn’t have anything to say.
Thank God for small miracles.
“Fine,” Billy huffed. “I ain’t pressin’ charges.”
With one final glare in Lynx’s direction, Billy stormed off.
When Rhys went to uncuff him, Reagan stopped him with a hand on her brother’s arm. “Can I talk to him first? While he’s cuffed?”
Rhys glanced between the two of them, but then backed away, turning to talk to Wolfe and Amy, who’d been standing off to the side watching the show.
“I’m likin’ the direction this is goin’,” Lynx told her, then lowered his voice and added, “Although I’d much prefer you were the one in cuffs.”
An image of Reagan cuffed to his bed flashed through his mind, making him wince as his dick took up more space in his jeans.
“I wouldn’t get too excited if I were you.”
Lynx leaned against the deputy’s squad car when Reagan moved into his personal space.
“Can we just call it even now?” she asked, her voice low, her expression blank.
“What?” He had no idea what she was talking about.
“You stop tryin’ to mess with me, and I’ll pretend that you’re not gettin’ on my last nerve. Then maybe we can both move on with our lives.”
The hell he would. Lynx wasn’t about to give up what he’d been waiting a hell of a long time for. However, he wasn’t above putting the ball in her court. “That what you want?”
She stared back at him.
“’Cause I damn sure don’t,” he told her forcefully, leaning forward so he could get closer. “You can keep runnin’ from me, girl. I’ll just keep chasin’.” He lowered his voice so only she could hear. “And the day you finally give in, you’ll come to understand exactly why they call me a bad boy.”
Her eyes widened, her mouth fell open, and Lynx was tempted to kiss her right there in front of half the town.
Yeah. That was what he thought. Reagan talked a good game, but when it came down to it, Lynx knew she was attracted to him. She was fighting it, sure, but she wanted him nonetheless.
“You sure you’re not interested?” he asked casually, as though her answer didn’t matter.
But just as quickly as she revealed her desire, Reagan regained her composure and leaned in closer. Close enough Lynx could smell her spicy, sexy scent.
“Do me a favor, Lynx?”
“Hmm?” he grumbled.
“Maybe try keepin’ your dick in your pants for a while. And when that divorce is final, if you’re still interested, perhaps I’ll think about givin’ you the time of day.”
“Done.” He could do that. No problem.
Reagan chuckled. “Right. Like it’s even a possibility.”
With that, she spun on her boot heel and headed back inside.
Boy, did he hate to see her leave, but he damn sure loved to watch her go.
Kelly Jackson kept his head low, not wanting anyone to spot him sitting in his car in the parking lot of the trashy little bar. This town was full of a bunch of idiots. If he was that damn sheriff, he would’ve rounded every damn one of them up and tossed their asses in jail. One reason he hated little hick towns like this.
He only had one reason for being there.
It wasn’t the highlight of his week, that was for damn sure, but he knew he had to figure out a way to get his hands on Amy. However, that wasn’t proving to be as easy as he’d thought it would be. Seemed she had a couple of bodyguards with her at all times. That damn sheriff and the guy who owned the furniture store where she worked. Plus, whoever’s fucking truck that was parked outside her damn house every fucking night. Kelly had no idea who they were to her, but it seemed they were keeping an eye on her, too.
Hence the reason he was having to come up with another plan. Which meant studying her movements and finding the precise time to strike.
Soon.
Very, very soon.
“Why do men always have to act like assholes?” Reagan muttered to herself as she wiped down the bar top.
They were getting ready to close, and as soon as she got the last of the customers out the door, she was more than ready to head home. Well, technically, it wasn’t her home, but she was renting a room from Amy, which was the first opportunity she’d ever had to get out on her own since she moved in with Billy nearly six years ago. Amy’s little farmhouse, even if it was lonely at times, had started to grow on her. On nights when Amy was there — which were rare — Reagan loved it. On nights when she was alone … well, she felt alone.
Not that she couldn’t get used to it.
She would.
She’d spent plenty of nights by herself even when she’d been living with someone. More often than not, in fact.
“Looks like it’s about that time,” Amy said when she approached the bar.
Reagan looked up to see that there were only two people other than herself and Amy left in the bar. Wolfe and Lynx were sitting at a table near the door, deep in conversation.
“Yep. ’Bout that time.” Reagan peered back at Amy. “Why don’t you head on out? I’ve got it from here.”
Amy smiled, then placed her apron beneath the bar.
“Oh, and Amy?”
“Hmm?”
“Take both of them with you.”
Amy giggled. “Right. Like Lynx is going anywhere.”
Reagan frowned. She’d figured as much, but she honestly wished he would go on about his life. Ever since the day the Houston detective had come to Embers Ridge to talk to Rhys, Lynx had been Reagan’s shadow.
And sure, part of her was grateful in a way. After all, the detective had been killed that night, and only a couple of hours later, someone had tried to break into Amy’s house while Reagan was there. They figured Lynx thwarted the guy’s plan by showing up to warn Reagan.
That was only a few weeks ago.
But as she’d proven, Reagan could take care of herself. She’d been doing so for long enough now it was second nature. It wasn’t like she had anyone to watch her back. Although her family was tight, they were still a little self-absorbed, which usually left Reagan out of their minds unless she was within their sight. And Billy… God, she didn’t even want to get into how self-absorbed that man had been during their time together.
“You ready to lock it down?”
Reagan looked up to see Lynx standing on the other side of the bar.
Sex on a freaking stick. So tall, so sexy it was hard to look at him sometimes. And those damn tattoos that covered him from neck to knuckles were almost too much temptation. Yet she’d managed to ignore her body’s disturbing reaction to him all this time.
She could see the dark shadow of a bruise marring his cheekbone. Looked as though Billy had gotten in at least one good hit. Granted, the asshole was far worse off than Lynx.
“You don’t have to stick around,” she told him, moving to the register to pull out the till.
She carried it to the back office, where she secured it in the fireproof safe, then locked the steel door on the office. Damn fools in this town had tried to break in one too many times. It was bad enough they raided her beer, but she worked hard for her money. She wasn’t going to make it easy for them. And when she’d finally gotten tired of replacing the damn door, she’d had a bigger one installed three years ago. So far, no one had been able to break through and she hoped it stayed that way.
When she returned to the bar, Lynx was still there, his long, lean body propped against the wood, his eyes raking over her.
She nodded toward the door as she grabbed her truck keys.
“You don’t have to follow me home, you know?” She figured it was a waste of breath, but she told him the same thing she’d told him every night since the first night he’d camped outside her house.
Reagan pulled the door shut and locked it. She could practically feel Lynx behind her.
When she turned to face him, he grinned.
“I don’t have to do anything,” he told her. “I want to.”
Suddenly fueled by a raging case of frustration, Reagan stomped right up to Lynx. “Why?” she asked, trying to keep her tone civil but failing. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”
He stared down at her and she felt the full impact of his heated gaze. The desire that swirled there was enough to make her knees weak, but she allowed the anger and irritation to win out.
“Tell me, Lynx. Why?”
“Because I want you,” he professed. “More than my next fucking breath.”
God. Those words said in that raspy tone … they were more than she could handle, and honestly, Reagan felt as though she’d been waiting an eternity for this man. A freaking lifetime.
For years, she’d come up with one excuse after another as to why she had to stay away from Lynx Caine. Her biggest reason being he couldn’t seem to keep his dick in his pants. He was always with a different girl and it pissed her off. And she’d used her crappy relationship with Billy as her armor, as a way to keep Lynx at arm’s length. All the while, she thought of Lynx endlessly.
And here he was saying things she’d always wanted him to say. It made her want to jump him, to knock him to the gravel and straddle him, right here beneath the moon.
Rather than give in to that urge, Reagan spun on her boot heel and stomped toward her truck. She could hear Lynx behind her and she balled her hands into fists. The man didn’t know when to stop. The worst part was, if he didn’t, Reagan feared she was going to do something she would likely regret for the rest of her life.
Like give in.