Cuffs - Cara Lockwood Page 0,3

of cash. She didn’t care. Mags took it with a nod of thanks.

“Uh... Mags.” Angus rubbed the back of his massive neck as he lingered on the black tile of the lobby of her shop. “There’s something else, too.” The big man wasn’t looking her in the eye. He seemed almost to squirm. “I’m supposed to pass on a message. From Clint.”

Clint was Mags’s on-again, off-again friends-with-benefits partner. He was a bartender at the bar where Angus worked, and the two men were friends. Clint and Mags had most recently been on again in the summer. A casual, no-questions-asked relationship. The perfect kind, in Mags’s opinion. Except now she had a feeling that bad news was coming.

“Clint’s, uh... Well...” Angus really did not want to get to the point. Mags felt the suit lean in, attention piqued. Great. Now she was his entertainment, too.

“Just spit it out, Angus. It’s okay.”

Angus took a deep breath, his brow furrowed. “He’s cuffed. He wanted me to tell you.”

Mags felt surprise at the disappointment that poked her belly. She was kind of expecting this, but still. The news didn’t land well. Cuffed meant going monogamous. It was that time of year again. Everybody did it. Fall setting in, winter coming fast. Nobody wanted their Chicago beds cold and empty for the polar vortex months.

Angus was still talking. “It’s that blonde waitress. Elena.” Angus’s shoulder slumped. “They’ve been seeing each other, and...”

Mags held up her hand. “I don’t need to know the details.” They weren’t any of her business. She and Clint had never been exclusive. Never were going to be exclusive. What he did with his time away from her bed was his business. Still, she was going to miss the way he fucked. Hard, fast and unapologetic, just like he rode his Harley. She knew they’d eventually go their separate ways, so why did his decision to move on sting? Because it did.

It was probably because up until now, Clint had done everything she asked him to. She’d kind of felt like she had the upper hand in the relationship. Now she felt blindsided. Especially since it was November. She hated November. For a lot of reasons. None of which she wanted to think about right now.

She tried hard to press down the hurt that threatened to bubble up to the surface. What the hell did she care if Clint jumped into bed with Elena or anyone else? She wasn’t going to marry him. She wasn’t going to marry anyone. She’d promised herself that a long time ago.

“He’s a damn coward for not telling you himself,” Angus said. “But I think he’s a little afraid of you.”

Mags threw back her head and laughed. “Good,” she said, thankful for small favors. She knew he didn’t have the courage to tell her himself. Because she would’ve ordered him to quit being stupid, and he probably would’ve listened. The fact that he’d sent a lackey to deliver the bad news just told her that he was really serious about it. That he didn’t even want to give Mags the chance to change his mind.

Angus glanced over at Gael and then back at Mags. “If it’s anything, I’d never treat you like that. If, you know...” Angus stared at his feet, color rising in his cheeks. Mags suspected the big man had a little crush on her. For his sake, she ignored it. Mags would never go for Angus. He might be a big bruiser on the outside, but he was a giant teddy bear on the inside. He’d fall in love with her in two weeks flat, and then she’d have to live with breaking his heart. No way. She wasn’t going to do it.

She gave him a gentle pat on his forearm. “Thanks, Angus.”

Angus hung for a second. “You need anything else before I go?” Angus gave a slight head nod toward Gael, his offer clear.

“Nah. I got it.” She stood and moved to the glass counter at the front of the store. She could take Gael. There was the folding knife in her back pocket, the baseball bat beneath the front counter and the industrial-size bottle of Mace near the register. Not that a banker would ever give her that kind of trouble. They only robbed people blind if it was technically legal. Cowards, the lot of them. She’d never forget the look on the banker’s face as he’d delivered the news to her father that there was nothing he could do—the bank owned