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Bobbi loved her.

And she hated her too.

“Why don’t you come and watch?” Billie asked
quietly.

Bobbi glanced at Logan Forest, suddenly aware
of just how awful she looked. She pulled her blanket a little
higher and murmured. “I think I’m coming down with something.”

“Some fresh air might do you good, Bobbi,”
Logan offered. “It’s not good to stay cooped up inside, especially
in the winter.”

“I’m fine right here, thanks,” she said
frostily. She didn’t care that Logan was Billie’s boyfriend. What
gave him the right to come in here and offer advice?

“I’ll meet you in the kitchen,” he said and
kissed Billie on the cheek before disappearing down the hall.

“Bobbi,” Billie said.

“You better go,” she inserted. “Betty is in
there and who knows what the hell she’s wearing or even if she’s
dressed. She’ll be all over Logan and you know it.”

“I know.” Billie smiled and shrugged. “But I
also know that Logan only tolerates her because she’s my sister and
because her need for attention is so pathetic it’s sad.”

Bobbi shrugged. “She’s not as pathetic as I
am these days.”

“That’s true,” Billie said. “And she smells a
hell of a lot better than you do.”

Annoyed, Bobbi threw a pillow at her sister
and they both watched it land on the floor next to the antique
grandfather clock.

“You can’t stay in here forever you know,”
Billie said quietly. “You have to come out and play and you may as
well get it over with. Come watch us play tonight. We’re heading to
The Grill for beer and wings afterward. It’s not fancy but it will
be better than sitting at home on a Friday night.”

Bobbi shook her head. No way. It was bad
enough that everyone in town thought she’d fled her wedding and
landed in the arms of New Waterford’s own bad boy, Shane Gallagher,
but—

“Shane’s not playing tonight. He had plans or
something if that’s what you’re worried about. I think Logan said
he was out of town and wouldn’t be back until Sunday night.”

For a moment the heaviness inside her shifted
and she was able to breathe a little better. She glanced at the
empty cracker boxes on the sofa beside her, along with the empty
water bottles and box of Kleenex. She moved an inch or so
stretching tight muscles and well, Billie was right about the body
odor thing, she needed a shower badly.

“I don’t…I don’t know,” she began and then
fell silent. Did she even have the energy to go out of the house?
Because that meant not only showering and dealing with her hair, it
meant getting dressed in something other than pajamas and maybe
throwing some makeup on and…

“Do you really want to spend Friday night
with Gramps and Dad watching the Criminal Minds marathon?
Really?”

Billie bent low and gave her a hug. “At least
think about it. The game is probably asking a bit much, cuz I know
how much you love hockey.”

Bobbi smiled at that. It was well known that
she hated the sport. She was more of a football kind of girl.

“But come to The Grill. We’ll be there by ten
at the latest. Okay?”

Bobbi knew her sister wouldn’t let up until
she gave an answer. The answer Billie wanted to hear so she gave
in. “I’ll try.”

Billie pulled back with a smile. “Okay, you
coming for some chili?”

Bobbi’s stomach protested at the thought.
“No, I think I’ll take my shower in a bit.”

“Good, I’ll text you when we get to The
Grill, or do you want me to come back and get you?”

“No,” she shook her head. “I’ll meet you
there.”

Bobbi watched Billie disappear and sank back
into the blanket. Shit, for a moment she almost believed herself.
But The Grill? No way. That sounded like way too much work and she
wasn’t so sure that she was up to the questions and whispers and
looks sure to come her way.

So, instead of getting her butt off the sofa
and heading up to her bathroom, she sank further into the blanket,
turned out the light on the table beside her and listened to the
boisterous family gathering in the kitchen.

The voices melted into one and she must have
dozed off because when Betty shook her, she nearly jumped out of
her skin.

“What the hell?” Bobbi rubbed her eyes and
glared at her sister…

Who stared down at her with a bemused look on
her face. A masculine cough from somewhere in the hallway told
Bobbi they weren’t alone and she tugged the blanket up to just
under her chin and peeked around Betty.

Great.

She glared at her sister. “Matt Hawkins?
Really?”

Betty shrugged. “It’s Friday night and this
is New Waterford. The pickings are pretty slim.”

“Hey, I’m standing right here,” Matt said
roughly.

Both girls ignored him.

Betty had a large leather bag slung over her
shoulder. Dressed in indigo jeans, white knee-high boots and a
matching white faux fur jacket, she looked like the model she
was—or rather used to be. With her long dark hair and dramatically
made up eyes, Betty Jo would turn heads tonight.

And probably get into trouble.

“Where are you going?” Bobbi asked.

Betty shrugged. “Anywhere away from here.”
She stepped back. “You used to have that attitude you know. Always
up for something new and now you can’t even manage to make it out
for a drink. What happened to you?”

Betty left with the questionable Matt, and
once again Bobbi was alone in the dark, but as was the way of it
here at Chez Barker, not for long. Gramps shuffled in, followed by
her father.

“Hey girlie,” Gramps kissed the top of her
head as he headed for the trusty rust colored Lazy Boy in the
corner—the one that faced the flat screen above the fire place. Her
father, Trent, stood a few inches from her, his fingers running up
and down his thighs nervously and Bobbi realized with a start, that
she was sitting in his spot.

“Daddy, I was just…here, come take your
seat.”

She grabbed her blanket and trailed it along
after her as she moved out of the way. Trent sank onto the sofa and
nodded to his father, Herschel. “It’s about that time.”

Herschel nodded, “Yep.”

“Time?” she asked.

Her father settled in and relaxed with a bowl
of popcorn. “Criminal Minds.”

“Oh, right.”

“Aren’t you meeting up with your sister?” It
was Herschel asking and Bobbi turned to him with a shrug. “If not,
I can always make another bowl of popcorn.”

Bobbi shook her head. “No, that’s alright.”
Just standing was enough to get the blood flowing and the pins and
needles that plagued her toes was testament to just how much of a
couch potato she’d become.

She glanced outside once more, saw her
reflection in the mirror and winced. What the hell had happened to
her this past week? Was she going to let life kick her in the ass
and then stomp all over her? Was she really willing to give up
control of everything to the sad woe-is-me feeling inside?

Bobbi tucked a strand of hair behind her ear
and shook her head. “Thanks Gramps, but I think I need to get
out.”

Her father grabbed a handful of popcorn,
glanced her way before focusing on the opening credits. He was
about to stuff the white fluffy bits into his mouth when he
paused.

“I’d take a shower first if I was you.”

An hour later she was in the parking lot of
The Grill. It was nearly nine-thirty and she knew the hockey team
her sister played on, the Angry Pirates, were inside because
Logan’s truck was parked out front. She’d showered, straightened
her hair, took some time with her makeup and had chosen a pair of
faded jeans that fit her like a glove. Boot cut, she had paired
them with old brown leather Doc’s and a sapphire colored silk
peasant blouse. Her distressed leather jacket sported a fur trimmed
collar.

The outfit spoke of money and edgy style. She
knew she looked good. She just wished she felt as good as she
looked.

With a sigh Bobbi dug out her cell phone, but
then tossed it back into her purse. It was dead. Uncharged. Just
like most everything else in her life.

It was cold and the wind whipped snow and ice
past her windshield. She shivered and watched a couple walk into
The Grill. Lana Holbrook from the looks of it and was that Logan’s
brother, Connor? For a moment her fingers hung on the keys in the
ignition. The urge to leave was something awful but then as Connor
opened the door for Lana—a simple gesture, nothing more—something
unraveled inside her. Some need to connect or to matter to someone
and before Bobbi could change her mind, she was out of the car and
heading toward the front doors of The Grill.

She paused, for just a second, pulled from
the calm waters she’d culled under the hot spray of the shower, and
pushed open the door.

After being a shut-in for over a week, it
took a few moments for her senses to sharpen. To focus. To
realize.

Bobbi’s stomach did that weird, queasy thing
and it took a few moments for it to settle.

She saw Billie heading toward her, a look of
near panic on her face and no wonder. In that one methodic sweep of
the room she’d made eye contact with Shane. He stood near the bar,
his tall frame unmistakable, with that wild mess of hair and sexy
as hell mouth.

Aware that now nearly everyone in the place
was looking her way, Bobbi knew she could do one of two things.

She could turn around without saying a thing
and leave.

Or she could stay and make sure that every
single person in the bar knew she didn’t give a flying fuck what
they thought.

“Are you,” Billie began a tight smile on her
face. “Are you alright? I swear I thought Shane was out of town. He
didn’t make the game but when we arrived he was here. I’m so
sorry…I tried your cell but it went straight to voicemail.”

Bobbi was jostled from behind and stepped
aside as several more patrons filed into The Grill. The exit door
hung open—for just a second—then she watched it swing back and
close. Her moment to leave gracefully vanished.

“Bobbi?” Billie prodded.

“I’m fine.”

And she was. Instead of the nothing that had
hung in her belly for days now, there was something else. Something
hot. Something alive. Was it because of Shane? Had that one moment
when their eyes connected, kick started something inside her?

Did she care what the reason was?

“Bobbi,” Billie said again. “Are you
alright?”

“I don’t know what I am, but since I’m no
longer employed, you’re buying?”

Bobbi threaded her arm through her sister’s
and moved toward the bar.

Shane watched Bobbi approach the bar and
though he knew he should just play it cool and turn the other way,
he couldn’t. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

He’d known this would happen sooner or later.
He just hadn’t planned on the sooner and he sure as hell hadn’t
planned on it happening in front of most his hockey team as well as
a good amount of local folk.

He should leave. He should pick up and get
the hell out. He wasn’t in the mood to socialize anyway, not after
the meeting he’d just come from. And now he was pissed that he’d
decided to stop at The Grill for a drink on his way home. But at
the time, the warm glow of The Grill had seemed a hell of a lot
more inviting than the quiet loneliness of his place.

The choice had been easy, but now?

Now he was stuck here with the entire town
watching it seemed, and the only coherent thought in his head was
that Bobbi looked hot as hell. Not good for his brain to go there.
Back to that place. Back to the night when he’d held her in his
arms. When he’d undressed her.

When he had pushed away the one thing he had
thought he’d never have again.

Shane sighed and closed his eyes. Fuck.

“Jesus Christ,” Duke Everett, owner of The
Grill, muttered as he wiped the bar and slammed down a draft for
one of Shane’s teammates. “I don’t need this. Not tonight.” He
leveled a look at Shane. “I don’t want any trouble.”

Shane held his hands up. “Hey, I’m not
looking to do anything other than order another beer.”

Duke’s handlebar mustache quivered as he
glanced over Shane’s shoulder and he frowned, his bushy eyebrows
pushing together as his eyes narrowed.

“I’m not one to pay attention to gossip, so
if the two of you are back together, fine. But if things aren’t
exactly
calm
between you, then I’d rather one of you move
on.”

“Duke, the fire was an accident. Are you ever
going to let it rest?”

Duke’s eyebrows bunched together as his frown
deepened. “Nothing between the two of you was ever an
accident.”

“We were young and stupid.”

“Yeah, well after the stunt she pulled last
week and your involvement in that mess, I’d say you might be older
but you’re sure as hell still stupid. Word of advice?”

“I don’t need—”

“She’s a hot mess Shane, and you’re just now
getting your shit together. Don’t go there.”

Irritated that Duke had pretty much hit it on
the head, Shane growled. “You don’t have to worry.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

Duke gave him a curt nod before slapping the
rag he held over his shoulder and heading to the far end of the bar
where Bobbi now stood with her sister.

Logan Forest smiled wryly as he settled onto
the stool beside Shane. “Looks like the night just got a whole lot
more interesting, no?”

Shane shrugged. “If you say so.”

Logan paused, took a drink of his beer and
then set the bottle in onto the bar. “She’s not doing too well from
what I hear.”

Again, Shane shrugged. “Not my concern.”

“Keep telling yourself that buddy.”

Shane scowled and tossed back the remainder
of his drink. Shit, Duke hadn’t given him another. “Who are you?
Doctor Phil?”

“Nope. I’m just saying what I know. The two
of you obviously have unfinished business and maybe you need to
face that shit now before it festers.”