Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Lynx
I hadn’t slept for shit last night. It was the very reason I was at the shop early this morning. Copenhagen and I had even arrived before Wolfe for the first time … well, ever.
My first order of business had been to start coffee, which I did, then proceeded to drink the entire pot while I pulled the parts out for another pair of rocking chairs.
They happened to be the most popular piece of furniture we sold in the store.
Seemed no matter how many I made, they never lasted long, and Calvin was always asking me to bring more.
So, after the first pot was gone, I got the second one going and got to work, all the while thinking about Reagan.
I hadn’t seen or heard from her since yesterday afternoon at Wolfe’s house.
Not that I blamed her. After having to hear Amy’s story again, listening to the pain she’d endured, I had needed some time to myself as well.
Now, I merely wanted to know how we were going to stop a man who seemed to wield all the power.
I still didn’t understand why Amy couldn’t go public so we could get this over with.
She’d even said she wanted to, but now they were going back on that.
It seemed simple to me. If she went public, there would be a lot of heat on that bastard, which would ultimately keep him from sneaking around trying to fucking kill people.
However, it appeared I was the only one thinking along those lines. According to Madison, the idea was to lure him out and stop him once and for all.
Of course, that made sense to me, too. If Amy went public and the guy stopped making his attempts, it would be Amy’s word against his, and Kelly Jackson would likely walk around a free man indefinitely.
After all, he was the chief of police. People respected him.
Granted, they didn’t know he was a monster who should be locked up indefinitely.
And right now, Madison said her brother wanted enough evidence to stick the asshole with multiple charges of attempted murder as well as the murder charges for the man’s two dead wives and the police detective.
I just didn’t want the man to succeed in taking someone else out, and based on his actions, the asshole was bound to get lucky at some point. Then again, if the mafia was after him…
“Holy shit!” Wolfe yelled when he stepped into the shop. “Did hell freeze over and I didn’t get the memo?”
I flipped my cousin off, which earned me a grin from both Amy and Wolfe. Copenhagen took off at a trot over to the new arrivals, eager for some attention.
Watching the pair, I grinned when Wolfe pulled Amy against him, their lips coming together.
“Hey,” I called out. “None of that kissy-face shit in here.”
Wolfe and Amy chuckled as she kissed him quickly before turning to go up the stairs.
“I think there’s a rule somewhere that says once you move in with someone, that shit stops,” I continued.
“Not in my world, it don’t,” Wolfe noted. “And you wanna tell me why your happy ass is here before the sun’s up?”
“Bored,” I said, standing up and leaning against the steel beam. The second I touched the damn thing, the memory of me holding Reagan right here, my fingers buried in her silky heat, assaulted me. That seemed like a million years ago and it had been less than forty-eight hours.
“You get a hold of anyone yesterday?” Wolfe asked as he moved closer.
Shaking off the erotic thoughts of Reagan, I let Wolfe’s question sink in. He had to be referring to the crew I was wrangling together to get started on the rebuild of Reagan’s bar. The favors I had called in.
I nodded. “I did. Harlow’s gonna loan us his equipment. Got Ben and Ed headin’ over this mornin’ to clear the lot.”
Wolfe frowned.
“Don’t worry,” I told my cousin. “I talked to Rhys. He gave me the go-ahead. Just said we couldn’t touch the propane tank, or what’s left of it, anyway, until he signed off on the investigation.
” Something about ongoing bullshit that I knew wouldn’t matter anyway.
They weren’t going to find anything, but apparently, Rhys had to do his due diligence to make everyone happy. “You get a hold of Ron?”
Wolfe nodded. “He’s sendin’ over a couple of dumpsters this mornin’. Said he’d be able to pick ’em up later today.”
“Perfect.” I had spent the better part of yesterday evening on the phone, recruiting people to help clear the remains of Reagan’s bar so we could start the rebuild.
“She know yet?”
I shrugged. I hadn’t told Reagan that we were starting the demolition on the remains of the old building so we could get the new one underway. I'd heard her mention calling the insurance company this morning, and she’d seemed extremely stressed, so I hadn’t wanted to add to that.
“How’re things goin’ with … you know?”
Cocking one eyebrow, I waited for my cousin to elaborate.
“With you and Reagan?”
Shaking my head, I turned to get back to work.
I didn’t want to talk about Reagan and me right now.
For one, I had no fucking clue where we stood.
It seemed she’d turned this thing between us into a friendship.
And with all the shit going on, I wasn’t sure how to move things in the right direction.
The only thing I could do was help her out and wait for her to come around.
Wolfe chuckled and I spun around to look at him.
“Man, you got it bad.”
My middle finger automatically went up, but I couldn’t hide my smile.
“You up for breakfast in a bit?” Wolfe asked, thankfully changing the subject.
“Hell yeah.”
“Cool. Give me some time to get shit ready for the day and we’ll head over.”
An hour later, I was walking into the diner. I'd taken Copenhagen over to the store to chill with Calvin for a bit. When I arrived, Wolfe and Amy were already there, sitting at our table in the back. I glanced around, taking in all the faces, offering up a couple of waves.
“Hey, Lynx.”
Turning, I saw Darrell Jameson waving me over.
I lifted my eyebrows in question.
“What can we do to help out at Reagan’s? Got a construction crew itchin’ to pitch in. You got some plans sketched out yet?”
“Workin’ on it,” I told him. In fact, I'd drawn up the plans for the new place last night while I'd been sitting on my ass wishing like hell Reagan had stayed over again.
“When you get ’em, let me take a look. I can work on some of the permits, then I’ll grab more guys if I need ’em.”
I nodded, then held out my hand. “Thanks.”
“Happy to help.”
Turning back toward the table, I couldn’t help but smile.
This was what living in a small town was all about.
Reagan
I wasn’t able to sleep at all last night.
Seemed every time I closed my eyes, the memory of the explosion came rushing back.
The fire, the heat, the fear … it all resounded in my head and my eyes had refused to close again.
At one point, I had gotten up and rearranged the dishes in the kitchen in an order that made more sense to me.
From there, I had situated the furniture in the living room on the opposite wall, opening up the space and making it feel a little less like Amy’s place.
By then, I was exhausted, but sleep still wouldn’t come.
Part of me had wished I'd agreed to stay at Lynx’s when he’d offered, but I knew that was not a good idea.
For one, I was having a difficult time not thinking about him nonstop.
Right now, I needed to focus on getting my shit together, to figure out what was up, because my life had been turned upside down in the past few days.
Definitely not spending all my time thinking about Lynx, wishing his hands were on me, wanting nothing more than to lose myself in him for a little while.
Which was the reason I was heading over to the bar.
Or the parking lot, as it may be. I'd called the insurance company first thing, only to be told it would take some time for them to investigate, to get the police report and whatnot.
Luckily, I'd taken plenty of pictures, so I shot those over to them via email, hoping they would suffice. However, what I thought would be a simple, quick process sounded anything but. And now I’ve added figure out how to pay the bills to my list of things to do.
I had some money put aside, but it wasn’t like I made a lot.
The place had been in our family for decades, but when it came time for my father to take over, he refused, letting it rot.
I could still remember the heated argument I had with him when I told him I wanted to open a bar there.
He had insisted I couldn’t do it, and that had made me work harder to make it a success.
It cost plenty to keep the bar open and I refused to charge ridiculous prices for beer.
When I'd originally opened, I had made a promise to myself that I'd keep it a local hangout. Most of the tourists ventured over to Marla’s Bar, where they could get liquor, dinner, and a little dancing.
At mine, the highlight of the evening was when drunk fools wagered on their pool game.
But it was mine and I loved it. Now I just missed it.
Pulling into the parking lot, my jaw dropped when I saw a couple of backhoes and tractors in the process of moving the debris into a dumpster.
I slammed Lynx’s truck into park and hopped out, waving my arms to get their attention.
When the tractor stopped, I marched over, my eyes coming to rest on Ed Davis, one of the regulars at my bar. “What’re you doin’?”
The man frowned. “Cleanin’ this up.”
“Why?”
He glanced over at the other man, then back at me. “Lynx Caine asked us to help out.”
Lynx.
Of course.
I had to spin away from him as tears flooded my eyes, my heart squeezing tightly in my chest.
Lynx was taking care of me. The same way he took care of everyone in this town. Anytime something happened — whether it was a new baby, a birthday, graduation, even a funeral—it seemed Lynx was somewhere in there, making things happen for people.