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Hard to Handle (Caine Cousins Book 2) by Nicole Edwards (9)

9

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“What can I get y’all?” Donna asked when she approached the table.

Lynx peered up at the diner’s owner and grinned.

Recognition dawned on the older woman’s face and a rare smile tilted her thin lips.

“Well, I’ll be. Just when I thought nothin’ stranger than seein’ your cousin with a guy and a gal could happen.” Donna grinned over at Reagan. “Then the two of you show up together and prove me wrong.”

“We’re not together,” Reagan countered.

Lynx winked at Donna.

“The usual?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Lynx confirmed.

“And you, dear?”

Reagan nodded, clearly not pleased with Donna’s reaction. Or lack thereof.

“Yeah. The usual. Please.”

Donna chuckled and wandered back to the counter.

“You know this is your fault, right?” Reagan hissed softly, her eyes pinned on him.

“What’s my fault?” Lynx watched as Reagan brushed her long, silky hair over her shoulder.

“These people are gonna think we’re together.”

He was banking on that. But he said, “And that’s a bad thing?”

She glared at him. “I’m not gonna be your flavor of the week, Lynx Caine. No matter what you think.”

Her sassy tone made him smile. The woman sounded as though she couldn’t even fathom the two of them together, yet here she was, sitting across from him.

Leaning in, Lynx waited until she met his eyes. “Trust me, darlin’. A week would never be enough for me.”

Some women would’ve swooned if he’d said that to them. Not Reagan. The girl was stubborn as all get out.

“Sweet-talk a nun outta her panties,” she muttered, her gaze focused on the silverware wrapped in a paper napkin.

“What was that?”

Reagan shook her head. “Nothin’.” She lifted her gaze to his. “So, why’d you wanna meet me for breakfast?”

“’Cause I like your company.”

“Pfft. Now I know you’re fulla shit.”

Although he probably should’ve been offended, Lynx couldn’t keep the grin off his face. Reagan had always been sassy. For as long as he’d known her. It was one of the reasons he was so into her. She wasn’t the type of woman to let a man sweet-talk her out of her panties, that was for damn sure. If a man wanted to be with her, he’d have to work for it.

And Lynx knew he’d have to work twice as hard because his reputation when it came to women wasn’t one he was necessarily proud of. However, explaining to Reagan that he’d been trying to fill the void because he wanted her more than he wanted air probably wouldn’t gain him any points.

“Tell me, Lynx. When’s the divorce gonna be final?”

Ah. Fantastic. His least favorite topic.

Leaning back, Lynx toyed with the paper ring that held the silverware inside the napkin. “Monday.”

“Really?” She didn’t sound convinced.

“Yeah.” Lynx held her stare. “It was filed a while back. Just had to wait it out.”

Reagan sat stone-still, her eyes locked with his. He could tell she was processing that information, probably trying to find a way to verify it. When she finally broke eye contact, shaking her head slightly, Lynx held back a smirk.

Reagan sighed and Lynx waited. He could see her brain working, knew she was coming up with a sassy retort.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” she finally said under her breath.

He didn’t say anything. What could he say? It was true. And come Monday, Reagan wouldn’t have a reason to push him away. Sure, she would probably come up with something, but at least she didn’t have her usual excuses working for her anymore.

“What made you marry that woman, anyway?” She relaxed somewhat. “I’ve always wanted to know.”

“What made you stay with a dumb ass like Billy Watson?” he countered.

Reagan’s dark eyes narrowed. “That’s none of your business.”

“No?”

Donna returned with a cup of coffee for Lynx and a Dr. Pepper for Reagan, but the older woman didn’t stick around, quickly moving to the next table and refilling coffee mugs.

“No,” Reagan stated firmly. “Plus, I ain’t with him anymore, so it doesn’t matter.”

“Sure it does. Same as it matters to you why I married Tammy.”

If Lynx wasn’t mistaken, there was something territorial about Reagan’s heated stare. She certainly didn’t like the idea of him being married. Whether it was to Tammy or anyone, Lynx couldn’t tell.

Leaning forward, he decided to clear the air between them. “I’m gonna say this one time and one time only. You do with the information what you want.”

“I’m all ears,” she responded in that snarky tone that made his dick hard.

Keeping his voice low enough that it didn’t carry past their table, he said, “I married Tammy because she said she was pregnant. And yes, before you ask, I did glove up. I’ve never had sex without a condom.”

He noticed a blush creep into Reagan’s cheeks. The talk of sex and condoms was clearly not something she was used to.

“But I took her at her word and yes, I fucked up. I married her.”

“Did you love her?”

He didn’t even hesitate when he said, “No. Did I think I would eventually? No, but I had an obligation. I thought maybe we could make it work for the baby. But it didn’t. She lied about bein’ pregnant and she was screwin’ around behind my back. I learned my lesson.”

What he didn’t say was that he knew he could never love Tammy because there was only one woman he could and would ever love. And she just so happened to be sitting across from him right at that moment.

“I’m sorry about that,” Reagan stated, her tone softer this time.

Lynx sat up, surprised by her reaction.

“Regardless of whether you loved her or not, it’s not easy when they cheat.”

He knew that Reagan had experience in that area. Billy had shit for brains and the dumb ass hadn’t even attempted to hide his infidelity. That still didn’t explain why Reagan had stuck with him for so damn long.

“Did you love Billy?” he asked, figuring it was only fair. Tit for tat.

“I thought I did. At one point. But no, I don’t think so. I cared about him, sure. But even that died a long time ago.”

Lynx believed her. Hell, if she’d said she had loved Billy, he would’ve believed her. He wouldn’t have liked it, but he would’ve believed it.

“What d’ya say we start over?” he suggested after several seconds of painful silence. “How ’bout we forget about Tammy and Billy and just try to leave them in the past, where they belong?”

Reagan’s gaze lifted to his face, studying him. It was as though she suspected he had a double meaning for everything he said. Finally she nodded. “Okay. I’d like that.”

Good. Because Lynx wasn’t sure he could tolerate thinking about Reagan and Billy together. Every time he did, he wanted to put his fist through the fucking wall.

“Here you go, kids,” Donna announced as she plopped their plates on the table.

“Thanks.”

“Yep.” And she was off.

“If we’re not talkin’ about … you know … then what exactly are we gonna talk about?” Reagan asked, forking her pancakes into small bites.

He honestly didn’t have the first clue, but hell. They could talk about the damn weather just as long as he got to sit here with her.

For Lynx, that was all that fucking mattered.

Sharing a meal with Lynx was the most awkward thing Reagan had done in … forever. Maybe ever.

Sure, she’d fantasized about what it would be like to spend time with him like this. Although this certainly wasn’t a date, she’d even thought about that, too. Those damn fantasies had been around since she was sixteen years old. However, she had never thought they’d come to fruition. And certainly not like this.

The tension between them was thick enough to cut with a knife, and she knew that was partially her fault. Even though he’d suggested they leave the past in the past, Reagan knew it wasn’t that easy for her.

For one, she’d spent so long watching Lynx parade around town with one woman after another.

Well, okay, so maybe he hadn’t paraded, but he’d been seen and she’d heard about it, and her heart didn’t seem to know the difference. Every time she thought about Lynx with another woman, it was like she’d ingested acid and it was eating away at the lining of her stomach.

“Where’d you meet Tammy?” she found herself asking before she could think better of it.

Lynx’s hard gaze lifted to meet hers. She could see the frustration there.

“It’s just conversation,” she told him.

“Here,” he told her. “In Embers Ridge.”

“Really?” How had she not known that?

He nodded, putting his fork down and picking up his coffee mug. “She had a girls’ retreat out at DHR. She was at Marla’s Bar one night.”

DHR was the locals’ reference to Dead Heat Ranch, likely the most popular dude ranch in central Texas. People came from far and wide to visit for family reunions, birthday parties, summer vacations, and apparently, girls’ retreats.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” His tone was a little harder than before. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to talk about somethin’ else.”

“Like?”

“Like you finishin’ those pancakes so we can get outta here.”

Reagan glanced down at Lynx’s plate, realizing he’d already finished his food and she’d hardly even started.

With a shy smile, she picked up her fork.

“What do you wanna do after this?” he asked, watching her as she chewed.

Frowning, Reagan tried to come up with something to say. Something that sounded a lot like, “I don’t think we should do anything after this.” Unfortunately, that’s not what came out of her mouth. In fact, nothing came out of her mouth, but she did manage an indecisive shrug.

“The lake it is,” he said quickly.

Reagan instantly shook her head. “No. I can’t.”

Holy crap. That was the absolute last place she wanted to go with Lynx. Extended lengths of time with him would be hard enough. Somewhere secluded like that… No way could she trust herself then.

As though he had expected her rebuttal, Lynx smiled. “Fine. But I wanna take you over to the shop. Show you somethin’.”

Reagan’s sex-starved brain instantly thought about him showing her his sexy, naked body, but she shook off the thought. No way was she going that route. Not with Lynx. Certainly not until he held up his end of the bargain. Although two days wasn’t a long time, it was still necessary. Once his divorce was final, she would consider an alternate ending, but until then, Reagan had absolutely no desire to get mixed up with the notable bad boy of Embers Ridge.

No matter how much she found herself wanting to.

Half an hour later, after Reagan finished eating and Lynx paid the bill — despite her loud refusal — Reagan was pulling into the parking lot of the warehouse where Lynx and his cousin spent their days building furniture. She had adamantly refused to go, but Lynx had turned on that damn charm and she found herself following him.

It still pissed her off that her brain wasn’t doing what her heart wanted it to. She should’ve been heading home, not willingly spending more time with Lynx, yet here she was.

“Come on, girl,” he said, opening her truck door.

With a sigh, Reagan hopped out and did her best not to look Lynx in the eye.

It took a minute or two to get inside because Lynx had to unlock the door and disengage the alarm, then turn on the lights. Once that was done, that damn tension had returned to Reagan’s shoulders, only this time, it was threatening to steal her breath from her lungs. It was one thing to go out in public with this man, something else entirely to follow him into an otherwise empty warehouse.

“I wanna show you somethin’,” he said, nodding toward the far end of the building.

Reluctantly, Reagan followed, doing her damnedest not to pay attention to the play of Lynx’s muscles across his back as he walked. She battled the urge to glance down at his ass or his long legs. She was sure the way the man filled out a pair of jeans was a crime in some countries.

When he stopped suddenly, Reagan plowed right into his back.

“Shit. Sorry.”

He turned around, and Reagan had just enough time to jump back. Of course, she couldn’t do it gracefully. No, she had to stumble, which then had Lynx reaching out, steadying her with a hand on her arm. Her skin heated where he touched her and her breath locked in her chest.

Why was this a good idea again?

“Do I make you nervous?” he asked in that raspy tone of his that made goose bumps form on her arms.

“What?” She rolled her eyes. “No.

Not that he would believe her since she was suddenly imitating his same raspy tone. Damn it.

When she thought he would pull away, Lynx took a step closer, forcing Reagan to crane her neck to look up at him. Her heart thumped painfully hard against her ribs.

When his hand cupped her face, Reagan had to fight the desire to press against it, to press against him. He was so warm and he smelled so good. She just wanted to lean into him, to press her lips to his, see if they were as soft as she remembered from all those years ago. The memory of the other night assaulted her, the way his mouth had brushed against hers…

“Do you know how fuckin’ long I’ve waited to get my hands on you again?”

His words were a dark, guttural rasp that had her clenching her thighs together.

“Ever since that night,” he continued, “out by the lake. Damn, girl.” His eyes dropped to her mouth, then lifted to her eyes. “I’ve dreamed about you, Reagan.”

She knew she was supposed to pull back, to break the spell he seemed to have on her, but her feet wouldn’t listen. Instead, she continued to stare up into his eyes, and she knew for a fact he could see how much she wanted him. It was hard to deny, especially when they were that close.

Reagan was a fraction of a second from throwing caution to the wind, to taking what she’d wanted for so long. When she leaned in, it seemed as though Lynx did, too. Her heart skipped a beat. Hell, it skipped a whole series of beats.

“God, Reagan…”

She was breathing roughly, her hands trembling. She wanted this man to kiss her, to touch her, to erase the last ten years of her life and put her back on even footing. She’d wanted him for so damn long and now he was here, so close—

“But I made a promise,” he said, pulling away quickly.

It took a second to see he was smiling.

No, wait.

He was laughing.

At her.

“And I fully intend to keep my promise, girl. No matter how much you want me.”

Asshole.