Since she’d moved into the small farmhouse originally owned by one of the town’s founding families, Amy did tend to get a lot of questions. Most of them she couldn’t answer since the only thing she knew about the previous owner was that the woman had gotten married and decided to sell the place. With just enough cash to get her settled in, Amy had forked it over. The process had been quick and easy, which was what she’d been aiming for.
“Get these boys some beers,” an older man hollered as he stepped into the bar, holding the door open.
Amy turned in time to see Wolfe and Lynx being hustled in by another group of guys.
Her gaze instantly zeroed in on Wolfe. There was something about the man that drew her attention. Could’ve been the way he carried himself with more masculine grace than a big man like him should possess. Whatever it was, Amy found it difficult not to stare like a schoolgirl with a crush.
“Sheriff’s on his way,” the old man noted.
Shit.
The last person Amy wanted to come face-to-face with was the sheriff. She’d managed to stay off his radar thus far; she didn’t see any reason to tempt fate.
Then again, if she really wanted to play it safe, perhaps she should rethink working at Reagan’s on Friday nights.
Rhys Trevino knew the call was coming in before he actually received it.
It was Friday night, after all.
But just like the sun rising in the east and setting in the west, they could always depend on some good Samaritan calling in to let the Lee County Sheriff’s Department know that the Caine cousins were throwing down outside Reagan’s. Never failed.
After responding to dispatch, letting them know he was in the vicinity and that he’d take care of the disturbance at Reagan’s, Rhys turned his truck around and put his foot on the gas.
He knew what he would find when he arrived. It wouldn’t be an emergency, unless one of the Caine cousins had gone off the rails. So far, their weekly brawls had yet to send anyone to the hospital. One of these days some smart-mouthed cowboy was going to push Lynx too far though. Rhys figured it was only a matter of time.
And now it was time to check it out.
He only hoped they’d wrapped it all up, because the last time he’d had to intervene, he’d sported a black eye for a fucking week.
Afterwards, he would stop for a cup of coffee, because if this call was anything to go by, tonight was going to be a long one.
Fifteen minutes later, Rhys pulled up to the bar. All looked quiet from the parking lot. Since he knew Reagan—the woman was his sister, after all—there was no way they’d been throwing down in the bar, so it appeared as though someone had wrangled all the misfits back inside.
Thank God for small miracles.
Getting out of his truck, Rhys grabbed his hat and shoved it on his head, then slammed the door shut and took a quick look around.
Other than the ruckus coming from inside the bar, all was quiet. The stars seemed extra bright tonight, too. Sighing, he resigned himself to dealing with these boys for what he hoped was the only time tonight.
When he stepped inside, his gaze instantly traveled through the room, categorizing all that was going on. The Caine cousins were seated at the bar, Reagan was telling one of her many stories, two younger guys were back near the pool table, another couple were playing darts. There were several tables off to the right that were still empty while the jukebox played an old Garth Brooks song.
His eyes stopped on the pretty blonde wiping down one of the tables.
Technically, he didn’t think Amy Smith was a true blonde, nor did he think the color was a fashion statement. Her dark eyebrows and dark roots said the carpet probably didn’t match the drapes. Not that he knew firsthand. In fact, Rhys didn’t know much about the newcomer yet. Well, nothing more than the fact that she’d come to town three months ago and quickly gotten settled into McKenzie Catlay’s old house after paying cash for the place. She started working at the diner a couple of weeks after that, and she’d been waitressing at Reagan’s for the past month. Yet no one knew much of anything about her. Despite the fact she spent her time in the heart of town, mingling with customers, the woman did a damn good job of keeping to herself.
He’d been tempted to look into her, but even a small-town cowboy like himself could tell that Smith was likely not her real name, and if he did a search, he’d probably come up with thousands in the state of Texas alone.
“Hey, Sheriff! What brings you down here tonight?” Reagan crooned from behind the bar.
Rhys turned toward his sister and the two men holding down the barstools nearby. “Just checkin’ on a disturbance call.”
He noticed the Caine cousins didn’t bother to turn around.
“You wouldn’t know anything ’bout that, would you, Wolfe?”
Rhys sidled up to the bar beside the cousin closest to him.
“Nope,” Wolfe muttered. “Sure wouldn’t.”
“So, the bleedin’ knuckles…” Rhys nodded toward the hand currently wrapped around the beer bottle in front of Wolfe.
“Work.”
“Right.” It wasn’t farfetched, although Rhys knew it for the lie it was. Since Wolfe and his cousin were in the furniture business, scarred hands were par for the course. However, this looked fresh, never mind the gravel dust on their jeans and hats.
“You wanna beer, Sheriff?” Reagan offered, smiling.
Rhys cocked an eyebrow. Reagan knew he was on duty, but it never failed; she always offered and he always refused. “I’ll take a Coke.”
“Comin’ right up.”
Turning around, Rhys leaned against the bar, still standing beside Wolfe.
“Who started it?” Rhys asked, keeping his voice low enough no one other than Wolfe could hear.
“Coupla dumb asses,” Wolfe said. “They didn’t come back inside. If you hurry, you could probably get ’em for a DUI.”
Tempting. Especially if it meant keeping the residents of his small town safe. However, he knew Wolfe was trying to get him out of there.
“No one hurt?” Rhys turned and faced Wolfe, studying the man’s profile.
Rhys and Wolfe were never what people would consider friends. Not in their small town, anyway. Although Rhys was accepted by the Caine cousins as good people and vice versa, they didn’t run in the same circles. Being that Rhys’s family was a longtime rival of the Caines, it would’ve been frowned upon. Didn’t mean they weren’t civil to one another though. And since they’d grown up here, gone to the same schools, Rhys knew everything there was to know about them.
Reagan passed over the Coke and Rhys tipped his hat. Turning back around, he caught sight of Amy moving toward the back. There was something about that woman. Rhys couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was. It could’ve been the fact she always seemed to be looking over her shoulder, or even as simple as his underlying attraction to her. Whatever it was, Rhys had decided a couple of weeks ago that he’d see how things went before he approached her.
“She doin’ okay in here?” Rhys asked Wolfe, again, keeping his voice low.
Wolfe shifted, his arm brushing Rhys’s when he did.
Damn, the man smelled good. Always. It was a combination of cologne and the sexy scent of an alpha male, Rhys had determined.
“From what I can tell, yeah,” Wolfe confirmed. “She’s a little jittery.”
Yeah, Rhys had noticed that, too. Whenever the door opened, she was always the first one looking. And it wasn’t a casual move, either. It was as though the cute little waitress was expecting trouble to waltz right in through the double doors.
She must’ve sensed they were talking about her because Amy’s attention turned to them. When Rhys met and held her gaze for a second, the woman quickly looked away.
Truth was, Rhys was curious about her and not necessarily in a law enforcement capacity. The only information he’d been able to get had come from his sister. According to Reagan, Amy was twenty-six, single, and not at all interested
in sharing details about herself. From what Rhys could tell, Reagan knew Amy Smith better than anyone else in town.
Still, Rhys wanted to get to know her better.
It’d been a long damn time since he’d met a woman who captured his interest. Hell, it’d been a long damn time since anyone had captured his interest.
“Don’t even think about it, Sheriff,” Wolfe grumbled.
Rhys stood tall and turned to Wolfe. He held the man’s stare, daring him to finish the threat. He knew Wolfe was warning him off the woman, and he even knew why.
“Jealous?” Rhys didn’t look away. Wolfe knew exactly what Rhys was talking about and it only had a tiny bit to do with the cute little waitress.
A smirk curled the corner of Wolfe’s mouth. “She’s too sweet for your games.”
“Games?” They both knew that Wolfe was referring to the fact that Rhys was bisexual, and he didn’t necessarily keep his interactions separate. A man, a woman, both at the same time, he was open to all possibilities. And no, he didn’t air his personal business around town, but word got around. Still, Rhys wanted the man to say it out loud.
Then again, Rhys wasn’t sure he could handle it if he did. After all, their families might’ve been at odds, but that didn’t mean Rhys felt the same way.
And he damn sure didn’t feel that way about Wolfe Caine.
“Don’t play dumb,” Wolfe growled. “It’s not becoming.”
Rhys cocked his head, studying the man for a second.
Figuring now was not the time and here was definitely not the place to hash this out with Wolfe, Rhys nodded, then set his empty glass on the bar, glancing over at Reagan.
“If you have any more trouble, holler.”
“Will do, Sheriff,” she answered sweetly.
Rhys turned and met Amy’s curious gaze once more. With a quick tip of his hat, he kept his expression masked, not wanting to send the woman running.
Wolfe was right about one thing. She was definitely jumpy.
Rhys was certainly curious as to what or who might’ve caused it.
One day he hoped to find out.
2
__________
“Are they brothers?”
“No. Cousins. Their dads are brothers.”
“And they grew up together?”
“Yup.”
“Who’s the oldest?”
“Wolfe. By almost two years.”
“Who named them? And why’re they named after animals?”
Honest to God, Amy had heard a million different variations of this very same conversation ever since she started waitressing here at the small diner just two short months ago. At least once a shift, someone started talking about the two men who’d clearly caught and held the attention of every female in a twenty-mile radius. And yes, women were always the culprits. They could be a gossipy bunch, no doubt about it.
“What do they do for a living?”
“They make furniture. Have an office building and everything.”
“Oh. They own the Cedar Door?”
Yep, they did.
And the woman was right, along with the store not far from Main Street, they also had an office, although calling it that was probably a little more than it deserved. Based on the details Amy had been privy to, it was nothing more than a massive metal building with a few rooms inside that they used more for a workshop than anything.
Personally, Amy didn’t know Wolfe or Lynx because she was relatively new in town, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t met them. Not only had she waited on them at Reagan’s, they were also regulars at the diner, coming in almost every morning for a cup of coffee and the house special—two eggs, two slices of bacon, two pancakes each. Every day, they ordered the same thing. Every day, they left a more-than-generous tip. And every day, they made her wonder if she should pick up and move on before they figured out that she was hiding out in their backwoods little town.
“Is it true that they”—Tank Top With Pearls Chick lowered her voice a little—“share their women?”
Boobs nodded excitedly. “Oh, they do. They definitely do. They’ve been that way since they were young.”
Yep, another rumor hot off the gossip mill press. As to its validity, Amy didn’t know that, either.
“How young?”
Boobs shrugged. “I don’t know. Teenagers, probably.” The woman obviously didn’t get all the details, but that didn’t stop her from assuming, apparently.
However, that was how Amy had come to understand it, too. At least, according to the rumor mill, which she happened to be quite knowledgeable about since no one seemed to care that she was walking around, pouring coffee, taking and delivering orders. They treated her as though she didn’t have ears most of the time, which worked well for her. It helped to pass the time.
Truth was, Amy didn’t know the first non-rumor detail about the Caine cousins, but she was as curious as the next person, she wouldn’t lie. When they dropped by, they rarely spoke, and never at length about anything, yet she wouldn’t say they were exactly unapproachable. Just quiet.
They had a specific table they sat at, which allowed both of them to keep their eyes on the door. It also prevented anyone from sneaking up behind them. Well, maybe that wasn’t the real reason they chose to sit there, but it was the reason Amy had made up in her head.
Evidently, she wasn’t above making shit up, either.
The two cousins looked remarkably similar, although different at the same time. Both had jet-black hair. Lynx’s was more of a Mohawk, while Wolfe sported the shorn sides, but not the spikey thing. Granted, they wore cowboy hats most of the time. And if they didn’t have on Stetsons, they were wearing John Deere caps—yes, those were apparently a thing. Both usually had that sexy scruff on their jaws and emerald-green eyes that saw far too much.
For the most part, they seemed friendly, not at all menacing despite the intimidation factor, but Amy had gotten the feeling that they worked hard to pull that off.
“Is it true that they’re ridiculously tall? Like six seven or something?”
Amy coughed to cover up a laugh.
“Oh, definitely,” Boobs assured Tank Top. “Wolfe definitely is. I think Lynx might be taller.”
Amy wondered if this was how fishermen’s stories got so warped and twisted. In a minute, she figured the two women would claim the Caine cousins had penises as long and thick as baseball bats.
Amy rolled her eyes as she grabbed a fresh pot of coffee and continued her rounds. Yes, the two men were tall, sure. Above average, definitely. But not record-breaking heights by any means. They were significantly taller than she was. At five five, Amy had to look way up at them. Since they were usually sitting when she was around, that wasn’t much of a problem.
“The sheriff does it, too,” Boobs noted.
“Does what?” Tank Top questioned.
“Shares his women.” The woman’s voice lowered slightly.
“Shut up! I heard he was into men.”
Boobs offered a one-shoulder shrug.
Amy had no idea where that story had originated, but she’d heard a variation of it as well. Of course, she did her best not to pay attention. What the men in this town did in their spare time was none of her business.
Boobs sipped her coffee. “I don’t know anything about that.”
“No?” Tank Top’s eyes were skeptical. “Wouldn’t that be hot?”
Amy put the coffeepot back on the burner, then grabbed a towel to clean the two tables that just cleared out.
“It would.” Boobs giggled. “I’d definitely like to watch me some man-on-man action.”
Wow. Okay.
“I want to know more about the sharing thing,” Tank Top declared.
“No, you wanna know if what they say about Wolfe is true. If his mouth’s as dirty as they claim. Or what about Lynx? I hear he’s worse—or better, I guess you’d say—than Wolfe.”
“I’m not partial,” Tank Top said with another giggle. “I’d be
interested to find out about the sheriff, too. They say the quiet ones are the dirtiest.”
Who said that? Amy had never heard a single person say that before.
Sheesh.
Amy shook her head in disbelief. Every single—as in unattached—woman who had walked through those doors wanted to know what the Caine cousins were like in bed. At least one, if not both of them. Hell, one group of women had talked about taking Wolfe and Lynx on at once.
“I hear Wolfe likes to watch,” Tank Top said.
“And to be watched,” Boobs noted. “And I’ve heard he even watches—”
The bell over the door jingled at the same time Boobs stopped talking. Amy stood up straight, grabbing the two empty glasses from the table, and turned in time to see none other than Wolfe sauntering in the door.
One of the women giggled. It was rather embarrassing for all of womankind.
“Hey, Amy,” he greeted as he passed by the counter on the way to his table.
His voice was like dark velvet. Smooth and warm and…
God, he smelled good.
Yeah.
After everything Amy had been through, she should’ve been completely immune to the seduction of his voice and the sexy scent of him, yet…
She shook off the thought and grabbed two coffee mugs—she knew Lynx would be along any second now—and the pot of coffee, then made her way over to their table. Without making too much eye contact, she poured the black liquid into the cups. “I’ll have your food out shortly.”
Like clockwork, the bells jingled and in walked Lynx. He tilted his hat in Amy’s direction, then headed directly to Wolfe.
And now that they were here, it was time for Amy to fade into the background, or blend in with the wallpaper as was the case here. The Caine cousins might be a hot topic surrounded by a lot of speculation, but Amy had her own secrets to deal with. Ones she had to protect in order to survive. Including her identity.
Otherwise, she was as good as dead.
Shoring up her nerve, Amy returned to the counter and looked for something to do while she waited for their food to be ready. The place was practically empty this morning. It was during times like this that she got fidgety, hating that she could feel the Caine cousins’ eyes on her, but she didn’t know what they were thinking. It was as though they’d practiced the art of being expressionless. Even their eyes held no secrets. Not that she let herself look for long. She preferred to be invisible and that was an art form in itself.
Hard to Hold Page 2