Hard to Hold

by Nicole Edwards

  “Fight!” someone hollered.

  Wolfe grabbed the fist flying toward him and stilled it. He squeezed until the guy grimaced.

  “You wanna do this? Let’s take it outside.” No way would Wolfe disrespect Reagan and let this go on inside her bar.

  “Come on, then!” the younger guy blustered. “I ain’t scared’a you.”

  “Let’s do this.” Lynx’s voice boomed, echoing off the walls of the bar. “Right fucking now.”

  Wolfe peered over his shoulder to see his cousin standing there. Lynx looked fit to be tied; the dark scowl on his face accentuated the danger that often surrounded him. Clearly, he had walked in on the action.

  “What the fuck, man?” the older guy said. “This ain’t got nothin’ to do with you.”

  “The hell it don’t,” Lynx growled, then spun on his heel and waved his hand in the air. “Let’s take this shit outside. Reagan, round ’em up.”

  Wolfe gave a firm push on the fist he was still holding, sending the guy onto his ass. The distinct sound of a shotgun being cocked had the two fools glancing over at the bar.

  Figuring this was going to happen one way or another, Wolfe turned toward the door, but not before searching out Amy. He wanted to ensure she was okay.

  Her pretty brown eyes looked wary but not fearful.

  “Son of a bitch!” Reagan grumbled as she pointed her shotgun toward the ceiling. “Just one Friday night. That’s all I want. One fucking Friday where I don’t have to deal with a bunch of dumb asses.”

  With that parting shot, they all headed out to the parking lot.

  The call came in earlier than he’d expected, but Rhys had been waiting for it. In fact, he’d been just a block from Reagan’s when he got the call, so he arrived at the bar before the fight spilled out into the parking lot.

  Climbing out of his truck, Rhys made his way toward the idiots getting ready to throw down.

  “Lynx Caine,” Rhys bellowed. “Stand down, boy.”

  Lynx flipped him off.

  Rhys sighed.

  “Fucker took a cheap shot at Wolfe.” Lynx glared at the man he was toe to toe with. “I think I’m entitled to beat his ass.”

  Rhys’s gaze swung to Wolfe. The man looked to be in one piece, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t some damage. He’d have to get the story in a minute though. Right now, he needed to keep Lynx from killing these boys. The guy was coiled tight, and he figured the shit going down with his soon-to-be ex-wife wasn’t helping his mood.

  “Party’s over,” Rhys informed the crowd that was gathering. “Take your asses back inside or move out.”

  With a disappointed grumble, the handful of people who’d come outside turned to go back.

  “Not you,” Rhys called out to the two guys who’d obviously started this.

  “We didn’t do shit.”

  “Sean, don’t be a dumb ass,” his friend said, although that warning was clearly coming a little late. “We don’t want no shit, Sheriff. We’ll head out.”

  Rhys glanced at Wolfe once more. When the big guy nodded his consent to let the idiots go, Rhys turned back. “Don’t come back here tonight.”

  “No fuckin’ woman’s worth this shit,” the younger guy grumbled.

  Rhys frowned, trying to catch up.

  “Especially no two-bit trashy waitress.”

  “Fuck,” Lynx groaned seconds before he stepped directly in front of Wolfe, holding him back with a hand on the man’s chest.

  The fury etched on Wolfe’s face was something Rhys had rarely seen. The guy was a good ol’ boy by nature. He didn’t seek trouble, but the opposite couldn’t be said.

  “I’m sure she’s banged half the boys in this town already,” the younger one threw in for good measure.

  Wolfe growled.

  It was a damn good thing Rhys was on duty. Otherwise, he would’ve taken the little asshole down himself. As it was, he was tempted to pull out his gun and fire a warning shot just to make the asshole dance.

  He wouldn’t, but he wanted to.

  “You’ve got three seconds to get off the property,” Rhys declared. “Otherwise, you’ll be spendin’ the night in jail.”

  “What for?” the younger one hissed. “We didn’t—”

  “One,” Rhys began. “Two…”

  His friend was clearly smarter, grabbing the smartass’s shirt and jerking him backwards. “Shut the hell up, Sean.”

  Rhys waited for Sean and his smarter friend to leave. When he was left with only Lynx and Wolfe, he turned to the Caine cousins. “What the hell happened?”

  Lynx shrugged. “No fuckin’ clue. Got here just in time to see the bastard—”

  Wolfe held up a hand to stop Lynx mid-sentence. “I got this.”

  With a curt glance between the two men, Lynx shrugged again, then sauntered toward the door.

  Wolfe was still staring after the two men who’d started walking.

  “You wanna tell me what happened?”

  It took a few seconds, but Wolfe finally looked his way. “No.”

  “Should I ask Amy?”

  Wolfe frowned. “Be my guest, but I think she’ll tell you the same thing.”

  Rhys sighed.

  These boys knew exactly how to wear down his last nerve.

  Before he could decide how to handle it, his radio chirped, the signal for another call.

  “You think you can behave?” Rhys asked Wolfe directly.

  The big man glared at him, but there wasn’t any heat in his scowl. Not from anger anyway.

  “I’ll catch up with you later,” Rhys told him, then headed for his truck.

  The night had been unbearably busy. One call after another had kept him running from one side of the county to the other. He’d wondered if there was a damn full moon, but the cloud cover had made it impossible to tell.

  By the time he was ready to call it a night, Rhys drove by Reagan’s to ensure the place had closed down. All was quiet on that front, so he went over to Marla’s Bar. Normally, he would stop in and check on things, but he had something more pressing to do tonight. Seeing that Wolfe wasn’t over at Marla’s, he could only assume the man was at home.

  Rhys fully intended to find out and to pay him a little visit. It had taken some time, but he’d finally gotten the details of what went down. The altercation between the two men and Amy, Wolfe stepping in and taking a pool stick across the back. Twice. It was a damn wonder those boys were still walking. It didn’t happen often, but Rhys had seen Wolfe lose his shit a time or two. No one wanted to be on the receiving end of that man’s anger. No one.

  When Rhys was a mile out, he called Wolfe.

  Wolfe answered on the second ring. “’Yello.”

  “Open the damn gate,” Rhys demanded. “I’ll be there in five.”

  The call disconnected without a response.

  Eight minutes later, Rhys was pulling up in front of Wolfe’s house. It was pitch-black outside and in, but he knew Wolfe was home.

  Rhys knocked on the front door.

  A second later it opened, and a shirtless Wolfe stood before him, taking up a spot against the doorjamb. The only light came from a lamp inside that offered a pale yellow glow silhouetting Wolfe from behind.

  “What can I do you for, Sheriff?”

  Rhys didn’t even pretend not to eye every mouthwatering inch of the man that was visible. The various tattoos that decorated Wolfe’s body did nothing to hide the sinful musculature. In fact, the ink enhanced his physique, enough that Rhys’s mouth suddenly watered with the need to taste him.

  But he wasn’t here for that.

  Not entirely, anyway.

  “You cool?” Rhys asked, meeting Wolfe’s eyes.

  One dark eyebrow lifted as Wolfe stared back at him. “You came all the way out here to ask me that?”

  Wolfe pushed off the wall and moved closer.

  Once again, Rhys found himself standing his ground.

  “Or was there somethin’ else you had in mind, Sheriff
?”

  Rhys kept his eyes locked on Wolfe’s rugged features.

  Wolfe grabbed Rhys’s wrist roughly. “Maybe you wanted to feel for yourself?”

  “This a game to you?” Rhys asked. He needed to know for sure that Wolfe wasn’t fucking with him.

  Wolfe pressed Rhys’s hand to the hard ridge behind his zipper. When Wolfe hissed in a breath, that was the only response Rhys needed, but Wolfe added, “What do you think?”

  Rhys kept his hand pressed against Wolfe’s rock-hard dick, adding a small amount of friction, wishing like hell those unbuttoned jeans weren’t in the way. He didn’t intend to take this any further, but he couldn’t stop the need to touch Wolfe.

  “Is that what you want?” Wolfe asked, his voice pitched low and laced with gravel. “My dick?”

  “I want more than that,” Rhys admitted. “The same as you.”

  “How the fuck do you know what I want?”

  Rhys stepped forward, and to his surprise, Wolfe took a step back. He continued to crowd the bigger man until Wolfe was up against the stone wall of the house. Grinding his palm against Wolfe’s erection, Rhys held his gaze. “Trust me. I know exactly what you want. You want to know what it’ll feel like with my mouth wrapped around your dick.”

  Wolfe’s expression didn’t change.

  “You wanna know how fucking hot it’ll be when the two of us are makin’ Amy burn hotter and hotter until she can’t contain it anymore. Then you want to slide your dick inside her sweet body while I take her ass.” Rhys waited to see if Wolfe would deny it. He didn’t. “It’s drivin’ you fuckin’ crazy, ain’t it?”

  Wolfe didn’t respond with words, but he reached down and pushed his jeans off his hips, freeing his cock. “Put your mouth on me.”

  The rough growl was almost impossible to resist. However, Rhys still wasn’t sure Wolfe wasn’t fucking with him. Rather than give in to the temptation only to be disappointed later, he shook his head.

  “Not yet.” Instead, Rhys wrapped his hand around Wolfe’s cock, fisting him tightly. Wolfe’s dick was long and thick. Fucking huge, just like the man. “You’ll have to be patient.”

  Wolfe hissed in a breath when Rhys began jerking him off, stroking roughly.

  “Son of a bitch. Rhys … goddamn … fuck…”

  Wolfe’s hips thrust forward, fucking Rhys’s hand.

  Rhys’s dick twitched against his zipper. He would’ve given any damn thing for Wolfe to touch him, but he couldn’t allow it. Not yet. Not until he knew how this would play out. As much as he wanted Wolfe, he wanted Amy just as much. He knew Wolfe felt the same, but the man was in desperate need of relief. Rhys understood that. Shit, for the past week he’d jacked off morning and night just to take the edge off.

  Wolfe’s hand wrapped around Rhys’s, and they stroked the length of Wolfe’s cock together right there on Wolfe’s front porch, the warm night breeze blowing over them.

  “Imagine if Amy was here,” Rhys said, his voice low. “If she was watchin’. You think she’d get off on it? You think she’d wanna join in?” That was a question Rhys knew no one had the answer to, but it was a fantasy they could live out right here and now. “Think about it, Wolfe. That sexy woman ridin’ your face, her tight little pussy grindin’ against your mouth while you drive her fuckin’ crazy. And while you’re doing that, I’ll be suckin’ your cock, takin’ all of you in my mouth…”

  Rhys knew the moment Wolfe lost control. He felt the big man’s body tighten, his hand gripping Rhys’s painfully hard as he erupted, cum splashing on Wolfe’s bare stomach.

  When Wolfe finally opened his eyes, Rhys stared at him.

  Rhys could see the need in Wolfe’s eyes. Hell, Rhys felt it.

  Rather than give in, though, Rhys knew he had to hold out. And if he did, so did Wolfe.

  “Be patient.” Rhys wasn’t sure who he was talking to, himself or Wolfe. Probably both.

  It took more willpower than he thought he possessed to turn and walk away from Wolfe Caine when he had him right where he wanted him, but Rhys managed.

  He would likely regret it later, but he still put one foot in front of the other and climbed back into his truck.

  7

  __________

  Amy woke up Saturday morning to the sun shining in through her bedroom window. Her eyes opened and she lay there, staring at the ceiling. She felt different. At first, she didn’t know why, then she realized…

  No nightmare.

  She wasn’t sure when the last time was that she hadn’t had the same terrifying dream, but last night she’d slept soundly. Well, sort of. She’d had a dream of a different kind, one she’d never had before. This one involved a sexy black-haired, green-eyed cowboy and a handsome brown-haired, blue-eyed sheriff. Both of them were touching her, kissing her, driving her absolutely crazy.

  She realized she was sweating, but it wasn’t from terror. It was from…

  Oh, man. That had been some dream.

  “You’re crazy,” she whispered to herself, unable to keep from smiling.

  She seriously doubted either man was even half-interested in her. Sure, she’d seen them give her a couple of what she’d thought had been I’m interested in you looks, but she’d obviously misinterpreted them. Amy was almost positive the two men were into each other, which meant they were definitely not into her.

  Her cell phone buzzed and she jumped, knocking her alarm clock onto the floor when she reached for it. Her throat felt thick as she stared at the screen.

  So much for thinking the fear had abated.

  The alert showed it was a text from a number she didn’t recognize. Clicking on the text app, she stared at the screen.

  Do you like to swim? If not, we could go to the range again. You know, if you’re up to it.

  Amy’s heart did a double tap in her chest. The good kind.

  Oh, and if you don’t recognize the number, this is Wolfe.

  She laughed. As if she thought it was anyone else.

  With trembling fingers, she tapped out a response: I like to swim.

  And she did. Although she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been swimming. Would’ve been sometime in high school, she figured.

  The reply came almost instantly. Good. I’ll pick you up in twenty minutes. We’ll grab breakfast on the way out to the lake. It’s a private lake, so you don’t have to worry about an audience.

  Amy could think of nothing to say except: Okay.

  As soon as those four letters were out there, Amy launched herself out of bed.

  Twenty minutes later, there was a knock on her door. Her heart was once again in her throat, but it wasn’t from fear. This was something else. Anticipation, maybe?

  Yeah. That had to be it.

  Smoothing her hands down her shirt, she walked to the front door. With a firm grip on the knob, she turned it, pulled back, and grinned.

  “Mornin’,” Wolfe greeted.

  He looked good.

  Really good.

  He was wearing jeans—not a surprise—and a black T-shirt with the Cedar Door logo on it. He had a ball cap on. The brim had been arched, which did little to shield his eyes but a whole heck of a lot for his sex appeal.

  “You ready?”

  Amy nodded, feeling somewhat light-headed.

  Since she didn’t carry a purse—she purposely kept all identification hidden in a safe in her house—she had nothing to get except her house key. After locking up, she followed Wolfe out to his truck. Once again, he opened her door for her, allowed her to get in, then shut it gently behind her.

  A second later, he was in the truck.

  Amy noticed a box on the center console. A rectangular white box. “Are those...?”

  “Donuts?” he supplied.

  Her eyes widened as she looked up at his face. “You bought donuts?”

  He nodded.

  One day last week, Lynx had brought donuts to the shop. Amy hadn’t meant to show her excitement, but she had. And now Wolfe had gotten more.
She was tempted to throw her arms around him.

  She wouldn’t, but the idea was appealing.

  Amy smiled at him. “Lynx said the nearest donut store is twenty minutes away.”

  One dark eyebrow lifted as though he was waiting for the punchline.

  “You were at the donut store when you texted me.”

  “I was.”

  “So, how’d you know I’d go with you?”

  Wolfe chuckled, putting the truck in gear. “Didn’t. Figured if you shot me down, Lynx would’ve finished off the donuts.”

  Amy couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “Is he gonna be disappointed?”

  Wolfe’s sideways glance sent warm fuzzies through her. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” He nodded toward her. “You did bring a swimsuit, right?”

  “I did.” As soon as she’d brushed her teeth and pulled her hair back into a ponytail, Amy had gone in search of a swimsuit. She’d bought one when she went to Walmart right before she moved into her house. She hadn’t figured she’d ever wear it, but every woman needed to have a swimsuit, just in case.

  This was that just in case moment.

  Granted, it wasn’t anything fancy, but it was a two-piece. She hadn’t considered how revealing that would be until she’d put it on. Hence the reason she had on a T-shirt she intended to keep on.

  “Is Rhys going with us?” She wasn’t sure why she asked that, but the words had stumbled right out of her mouth before she could think about it.

  “Do you want him to?”

  If Amy wasn’t mistaken, there was some serious interest in Wolfe’s eyes. “Sure. Why not? He’s your friend, right?”

  “He’s my friend.”

  “Then invite him. It’ll be three friends going for a swim.”

  If Amy wasn’t mistaken, Wolfe’s heavy sigh wasn’t exactly laced with disappointment.

  Wolfe knew he was reading too much into it when Amy asked about Rhys. Taking her at face value was the smartest thing to do, but there was a deep, dark, underlying desire that had Wolfe holding out hope for something he knew would never happen.