Free XANDER (The Caine Brothers Book 2) by Margaret Madigan

shuffling back across the street.
    “She’s adorable,” Gracie said.
    “She is.”
    Xander took her wrist in a tight grip and without saying another word, led her up the stairs and unlocked the door to the beach house.
    Inside, she wrenched her wrist from his grip and rounded on him, holding it close to her chest and rubbing it with her other hand.
    “There’s no need for that. If you want to talk, that’s fine. If you want to yell at me, that’s fine, too. But I won’t put up with a man who needs to control, or who does it by hurting people.”
    He jerked as if she’d struck him and his features settled into a hurt expression. “Sorry if I hurt you. I’m not a control freak, and I don’t hit women. Not all bikers are like that. Most of us work hard to discredit that asshole image bikers have.”
    “Yeah, well, I grew up with the assholes.”
    At the reference to the Ravagers, the hurt expression disappeared, as did the happy indulgence he’d displayed for Mrs. Riley. In its place a grim biker glared at her. So much for fighting the reputation.
    Light from the windows facing the beach flooded the large living space beyond the foyer. Gracie wanted to explore. Despite being timeless and elegant, the decor looked like it hadn’t been updated since the ‘80s.
    One look at Xander nixed exploration.
    “I don’t suppose the fridge is stocked?” she asked.
    “So your name is Gracie?”
    The entry to the kitchen was just left of the foyer, so she wandered in, hoping to prolong the inevitable. She couldn’t stand the thought of him looking at her with disgust, betrayal, loathing, rejection once she told him exactly who she was. He’d never want to see her again.
    Opening the fridge, she bent and stuck her head in. She found a six-pack of beer and grabbed one, not even caring how long ago it had expired. She popped the cap and guzzled half the bottle.
    “This is a nice little place,” she said, making unimportant small talk. More prolonging.
    He leaned in the doorway, his arms crossed. “It belonged to my mom. She left it to me and my brothers when she died.”
    “Oh. I’m sorry. My mom’s dead too.”
    Somehow the conversation had veered into dead mothers. God. Could it get any more awkward? Hours ago they’d been sliding around in each other’s naked arms, and now they could barely string two stiff, tense words together.
    He didn’t say a word, just let the silence spiral out until she couldn’t stand it anymore.
    “Okay, fine. My name is Gracie Buckner. My father is Prez Buckner. My brother is Titan Buckner. My sister is Lily Buckner. I refuse to refer to her by her married name because that fucker doesn’t deserve that much respect.”
    A tiny smile played at the corner of Xander’s mouth.
    She took another swig from the bottle, then pointed it at him. “But don’t you dare judge me by my family.”
    An eyebrow went up, silently asking why.
    “I may have been raised in the Ravagers, but I’m not one. I left years ago to go to college. I’m a photographer.”
    “I hate to point out the flaw in your reasoning, but you’re at a bike rally and I met you at a biker bar. That suggests you haven’t really put the Ravagers behind.”
    She roamed into the living room and stopped at the windows looking out over the gulf. The water sparkled in the sunlight. A kid threw a stick into the water for his dog to chase. She spoke while watching them playing in the surf.
    “I live and work in Dallas, but when Lily called and asked me to come home, I did. When I saw her I lost it. I mean, I knew Hank was an asshole, and I knew he’d hit her in the past. Lily and I have gone round and round about it before. But I haven’t been home for a while. I guess he escalated things. This is the worst I’ve seen her.”
    She glanced at Xander, whose face had gone stony at the mention of Hank hitting Lily. Gracie went back to watching the beach.
    “So, I figured something needed to be done,” she continued.