Offside (14 page)

After Shane had burst into the dressing room,
the energy between him and Billie had fizzled, if it was even there
to begin with. Maybe it was one sided or maybe he was just
dreaming. The Barker triplets were complicated. Everyone knew it,
so why the hell was he all of a sudden willing to put himself in
the sights of a Barker bullet?

“There you are, Logan. Where have you been? I
thought you’d be here over an hour ago.”

Logan turned to his mother as she swept
toward him, arms outstretched, eyes moving behind him, obviously
looking for—

“Oh, no,” she sighed, her large expressive
eyes, narrowing slightly. “Where is Sabrina?”

Decked out in a witches costume—one he was
willing to bet she’d spent a small fortune on in rentals—she
reached up and kissed his cheek, though her hands stayed on either
side of his face. As always, warmth filled him when he gazed down
at her. His mother was the kind of lady who drank eight glasses of
water a day, never went to bed without smearing a ton of cream on
her face and neck, and went to the gym faithfully four times a
week. Heck, he’d even caught her sneaking out of the house a few
years back, when he’d still lived at home, early on a Sunday. He’d
been coming in from a night of drinking with the boys and she’d
been headed out to her own form of salvation.

She’d given him shit and then she’d shushed
him. Told him that even the good Lord believed in a healthy heart
and clear arteries and warned him that too much drinking wasn’t
healthy for the libido.

He didn’t have the heart to tell her that in
fact, he’d found it to be the opposite. Hell, if you weren’t really
sure about a woman, add a couple of stiff vodkas to the mix and
things became much clearer. Of course, clarity didn’t always carry
over to the next morning but that was another matter entirely.

His mom took great care of her body and mind
and he knew that his dad was one hell of a lucky guy. Maybe she was
the reason he’d never been interested in settling down. How was he
ever going to find someone as perfect as his own mother?

[i]
Okay, now I sound like Dr.
Phil
.[i]

Slowly she pushed away, brows arched, scarlet
lips pursed in a frown. “Sabrina?” she asked pointedly.

Hell, he was sure the local grapevine would
have taken care of this before she got to him. He shifted. Looked
away.

“Look, mom, she’s a nice girl and all,
but—”

His mother waved her hand and sighed. “Yadda,
yadda, yadda.” Deidre shook her head. “Same old story, my boy.” Her
eyes drifted over him and even though he knew she didn’t want to, a
small smile claimed her mouth.

“You’re so like your father, except when it
comes to commitment.”

He winced. There was that word again.

She squared her shoulders, her gaze running
over him critically. “Your costume is exactly what I expected.”

It should be, seeing as she’d ordered it and
had it delivered. And, she’d sent over Dorleen from the salon to
mess with his hair. Christ, it felt like his head had enough grease
in it to lube a car.

“Where is your teeth?”

“What?”

His mother frowned. “Your teeth.”

He thought of the plastic pointy things that
he’d tossed onto his dresser. “Yeah, this is about as far as I go,
Ma.”

His father, dressed in a black suit, with a
long flowing cape, white skin, and what looked to be really cheap,
plastic, fake teeth, pretended to bite his wife’s neck, before
planting a kiss just beneath her ear.

He was a better man than Logan.

“Glad to see you, Logan.” Max Forest nodded
to his oldest son. He glanced around and then nudged his wife in
the shoulder. “You owe me.”

His mother looked annoyed but said
nothing.

“Bet?” Logan asked as he moved forward,
peering into the darkened party room. He couldn’t see shit and had
no idea if his brother was there yet.

Or if he was alone.

“Yes,” his father chuckled. “I told her that
you’d be alone and I was right. Sabrina wasn’t the girl for
you.”

Seriously. Didn’t his dad have a dog to save
or something?

“Why can’t you find someone nice like the
girl who Connor brought, the Barker girl.”

He turned and eyed his mother.

“She’s quite lovely. Not as wild as the one
you were involved with.” His mother smiled. “Just lovely.”

“And athletic,” his father piped in, a
twinkle in his eye as he gazed at his son.

Logan had had enough, and besides, he’d
caught sight of a platinum head that looked an awful lot like
Sabrina.

“I’ll see you guys inside,” he murmured,
kissing his mother’s cheek one last time.

She grabbed his arm. “I just want you to be
happy.”

Logan’s eyes softened. “I know.”

“Thanks for all the help you did with the
hockey and basketball games.”

“No problem,” he answered. “Shane did a lot
too.”

For a moment his mother’s eyes clouded. “I’ve
been meaning to come by and see him. His father isn’t doing all
that well. Shane knows that, right?”

Logan sighed. “Yeah, he knows.”

Shane’s relationship with his family was a
hell of a lot more complicated than most people knew. Shane had
told Logan once that dealing with his family was like running
through a maze, one that was too hard to navigate. You could either
get lost forever, or get the hell out.

Shane had opted to get the hell out, though
jail wasn’t exactly the destination he’d had in mind.

One of the women who served on the charity
board with his mother approached. Mrs. Toico. He saw the predatory
gleam in her eyes from across the room, [i]
and
[i] her
daughter Heather tagging along. He quickly kissed his mother’s
cheek, nodded to his father and entered the dark, ‘haunted’
mansion.

Candlelit tables circled the entire room,
while large swatches of gauzy material hung from the ceiling,
creating a smoky haze in the air. The dance floor was in the center
with a stage directly across from the entrance. His buddy, Ike and
his band were just warming up to play—they were dressed like
zombies—and judging from the crowd out front, they were eagerly
anticipated. A blend of pop, rock, and country, Ike’s band pleased
most everyone, except old lady pick-up—Mrs. Darcy, the local crazy
lady who picked through everyone’s garbage and then stored it in
her barn. She’d surely stood off to the side and shout hymn
suggestions at the stage, just like she’d done for the previous two
years.

Logan bought a handful of liquor tickets and
strode toward the bar, his gaze constantly moving, looking for his
brother.

[i]
Looking for Billie
.[i]

He grabbed a beer, politely declined a dance
with Heather Toico, and took a long drink, letting the cold liquid
slide down his throat as he shifted in his hot clothes. His head
was itchy too. Shit, how in the hell had he let his mother talk him
into this getup, he’d never know—probably the guilt of knowing he’d
show alone.

“Oh, my gawd!” A shriek sounded beside him
and Logan turned, nearly spilling his beer. Tracy Steeles sidled
over to him and licked her lips seductively, as she poked her
girlfriend, Lana, in the arm. “He looks just like Eric from—”

“Oh my God I know! The long legs, the
leather, the…”

Logan arched a brow as the two women
continued to discuss him like he wasn’t even there.

“Well, his face isn’t so much like Eric’s.”
Tracy smiled devilishly, which considering she was wearing a skimpy
red ensemble that sported little iddy biddy horns and a tail,
wasn’t unexpected. She slipped her hand along his forearm, “Logan’s
darker, hotter…”

“You’re so right,” Lana nodded.

Tracy leaned forward, her breasts nearly
spilling from her top, and well, Logan couldn’t help but look. He
was human after all. She tilted her head to the side. “You want to
bite me, Logan?”

He had to give it to her, she was really
playing it up. Especially considering her fiancé stood a few feet
away, a long suffering look on his face as he held three drinks in
his hands.

Logan leaned down, until he was practically
nose to nose with Tracy. “Where’s Billie and Connor?”

A sly smile claimed her mouth and she licked
her lips once more as her fiancé approached and handed Tracy her
drink. “Jealous?” she asked cheekily.

“Forest,” Jake Buchanan said. He put an arm
around Tracy and hugged her close, growling while she giggled into
his neck. “Tracy being obnoxious already? She’s only had two
drinks.”

Logan laughed. “Nah, she’s just being
herself.” The woman was an undeniable flirt. He didn’t know how
Jake put up with it.

Tracy snuggled closer to her fiancé and
grinned. “Logan is asking after Billie-Jo.”

Jake’s smiled died. “She’s here?”

Tracy nodded, “of course she is,” she paused
dramatically, “with Connor Forest.”

“She’s got her nerve,” Jake growled..

Jake’s eyes narrowed and he went from soft to
hard in under two seconds. Logan knew Jake had been so pissed that
a woman had infiltrated their league that he’d asked for his money
back and drove out of town to play in another league, the next
county over.

“Honey, don’t get your shorts in a knot.”
Tracy pulled back and looked up at her fiancé. “It’s just hockey
and if I don’t mind sayin’, Billie is probably the best player in
your league.”

“It’s not my league anymore.” Jake disengaged
himself from the little red devil at his side. “That’s not the
point.”

“Well, then what is?” Logan asked softly. He
was fed up and considering the fact that Longwood had cleared out
of the arena before either he or Shane had had a chance to set him
right on a few things, Logan was itching to do….something. He
thought of the bruises on Billie’s legs, the gash beneath her
arm—his brother’s hands all over her—and his gut roiled with
anger.

“The point is, she’s a woman and it’s a men’s
league. Last time I looked, she didn’t have a dick between her
legs.”

“No,” Logan agreed. “Just a slap shot that
will take your head off, or your,” he glanced down, “balls if she
wanted to.”

Jake scowled. “Since when did you become
Barker’s personal cheering squad? She spreading some around? Is
that what this is about?”

Logan eyed Jake, a dangerous glint in his
eye, his muscles bunching as he took a step forward. He’d known
Billie would meet some resistance, but hadn’t thought the guys
would get [i]
this
[i] bent out of shape over a female in the
league.

Fortunately, Tracy stepped in and diffused
the situation. “Jake, you’re being an asshole. If you don’t get rid
of that sourpuss attitude it’s going to be a long, cold,
winter…understand? Billie’s a good friend of mine and she needs
this more than you know, for reasons you couldn’t even begin to
understand. So give her a break and let’s just call this what it
really is, because it sure as hell isn’t about the fact that she’s
a woman.” She slammed a pointy finger into Jake’s chest. “And this
isn’t about her invading some sacred, freaking night so don’t give
me that shit either. You’re intimidated by the fact that she’s damn
good and better than any of you.”

Jake scowled, but finished his beer in
silence.

“And Logan?” Tracy, nodded behind him,
blowing a long strand of hair off her face. “Billie’s right behind
you.”

Billie spied Logan as soon as he entered the
party room. Not that she was looking for him or anything. She just
happened to be glancing toward the entrance and boom, there he
was.

Keep telling yourself that.

She melted into the shadows that bordered the
dance floor—halfway between the bar and the stage—and took just a
few seconds to stare at him unobserved. As a young man he’d been
beautiful, but that had been merely a preview of the man he would
become. The promise she’d seen all those years ago had bloomed and
he took her breath away.

The funny thing was, her stomach tumbled just
like it used to when she was fourteen and seventeen…and eighteen.
And her heart sped up like a freight train. And dammit, that was
something she was going to have to work on. She wasn’t a teenager
anymore. She was a woman. A fully grown woman. One who needed to
keep her cool until she figured out exactly what was going on
between the two of them.

If there was anything going on other than a
mild flirtation.

[i]
Uh, that kiss the other day wasn’t a
mild flirtation
[i].

Billie shook her head and bit her lip. She
really needed to stop talking to herself.

Besides, there was no sense in letting her
mind wander, running down that street—the one called hope—because
as far as she could tell, Logan Forest didn’t do relationships. And
if anything, Billie knew that casual wasn’t what she wanted. Not
from him.

She pressed cold fingers to her hot cheeks.
Not with anyone.

She watched Logan stride across the room and
pause at the bar. She watched the way every female head in his
immediate orbit turned and watched. And she couldn’t blame them.
Apparently the only woman in New Waterford immune to his charm was
her sister, Bobbi. And that was only because she was in love with
Shane Gallagher, even though she’d deny it until the cows came
home. Or until she married Gerald Dooley.

Billie, sighed and took a sip of her drink,
wincing as the slick, sweet, concoction slid down her throat. She
was usually more of a beer kind of girl, but Connor had brought her
a glass earlier and she’d politely accepted it.

It wasn’t bad. It just wasn’t her.

[i]
Logan would have brought me a
beer
[i].

The thought whispered in her mind and she
pushed it away just as fast. She wasn’t here with Logan. She was
here with his younger brother Connor, who’d—she glanced
around—abandoned her about twenty minutes ago, explaining he’d had
an emergency at the vet clinic, though he’d assured her he’d be
back as soon as he could.