Offside (5 page)

Billie was watching him and he nodded, a
quick, short movement, before turning away and tossing some cash
onto the bar. “That should cover my tab, Duke.”

Shane ordered up another draft. “I think I’ll
stick around and uh, make sure little Billie doesn’t get
harassed.”

Logan eyed his friend closely, suddenly
rankled and not sure why. “She’s not Bobbi, you know that
right?”

Shane’s eyes darkened as a scowl crossed his
features. “I got that.” His friend was silent for a moment. “What
do you care anyway?”

[i]
What kind of question was that
?[i]
He was just looking out for the kid is all. “I don’t. I’m just
saying.”

Except for whatever reason he did. The
thought of Shane Gallagher anywhere near Billie, had his gut
tightening and that only irritated him more. Since when had he
decided to become her all around protector and bodyguard? He was
losing it. No question. He needed to deal with the Sabrina problem,
and get a good night’s sleep.

“Sure,” Shane said slowly. “Okay.”

Logan reached into his pocket and tossed
Shane a key to his place. “I’ll see you later.”

“But aren’t we going to at least grab a
drink?” Sabrina pouted, not understanding.

“Let’s get out of here.” His intention was to
have, [i]
the talk
[i], the break-up chat. She was getting too
comfortable and that led to problems. The signs had been there for
a while. That last time she’d spent the night at his house he’d
woken up to find his clothes freshly laundered and folded. Bad
sign. Hell, she’d probably have put them away except he’d stopped
her cold.

Yep, too damn comfortable, which, for some
guy out there would be cool, but not for him. [i]
She
[i]
wasn’t for him.

Sabrina glanced toward Billie once more and
smiled, a sly, sexy smile. “Sounds good to me,” she purred.

He knew she thought they were heading
straight to bed and if he were some other guy, he’d take the offer,
use her body to alleviate some of the frustration he felt and blow
her off the next morning. Except Logan wasn’t that kind of guy. He
didn’t want to hurt her. It wasn’t Sabrina Fairfax’s problem that
his feelings didn’t run down the permanent road she was travelling.
He sighed and nodded toward the door.

It was going to be a long night.

Billie loaded her hockey bag into the back of
her car and placed two sticks alongside it before slamming the door
shut. She was running behind, after taping both sticks. A quick
glance at her watch told her she had to be on the ice in forty-five
minutes, so she needed to get her butt in gear.

“So, you’re really going through with
this.”

Billie turned from her vehicle and faced her
sister. They’d not talked at all since their disastrous dinner a
week ago. Both of the girls had gone out of their way to avoid the
other. It was for the best considering the Barker triplets’ tempers
had always run hot and they’d learned a long time ago to leave each
other alone when things got dicey.

Billie studied her sister. Bobbi and Gerald
were taking a weekend trip to some swank bed-and-breakfast an hour
north of town. They were leaving within the hour. Billie had hoped
she’d be able to escape without a confrontation, but she supposed
it was too much to ask for and maybe it was time to clear the
air.

She just needed it to happen in less than two
minutes.

“Looks like it.” Billie quipped before moving
around her sister and heading toward the wide porch steps. She’d
left her Gatorade in the kitchen and once she had it was good to
go.

“Did you know that Jackie Everett isn’t
sleeping with her husband?”

Billie rolled her eyes and turned back to her
sister. [i]
Here we go
[i].

Bobbi stood at the bottom of the steps,
dressed to the nines in a fitted moss green coat with a fur ruffle
at the collar and indigo-blue skinny jeans tucked into simple black
leather boots. Her hair, straight as ever without even one piece
out of place, curved around her perfectly made up features. She
looked so cold…so [i]
plastic
[i], like there was nothing real
inside her anymore. For a second, a sliver of remorse rifled
through Billie. Was she somehow responsible for the woman her
sister had become?

Billie smoothed her hands over the soft,
denim at her hips and arched a brow. “I’m not sure why you think I
care if Duke and his wife actually sleep together.” Though to be
honest, she was surprised. Duke and Jackie were two people who’d
always been madly in love, but she supposed that kind of flame was
hard to keep burning.

Bobbi’s eyes narrowed. “This is a recent
development and it’s your fault.”

Okay, her sister was bordering on crazy. What
the hell had Gerald done to her?

“My fault?” Billie threw her hands up in the
air, when all she wanted to do was wrap them around her sister’s
neck and squeeze until Bobbi’s head popped off. “I’m sure you’re
dying to fill me in on why it’s my fault, but to be blunt it’s none
of my business and I don’t care.”

“You should care. They’re fighting because of
you.”

“Me?” Billie took a step down, visualizing
her hands tearing into her sisters perfectly coiffed hair. A smile
touched her mouth at the thought. Maybe she could smudge her poppy
red lipstick while she was at it. “How is the fact that Duke’s not
getting any, my fault?”

“Because they’re arguing about your need to
play hockey with a bunch of men, that’s why. Duke, like most of us,
thinks you’re being ridiculous and apparently Jackie thinks he’s
being an asshole.”

A slow burn erupted inside Billie and she
took the last step until she was only a few inches from her sister.
“Well, if that’s what he thinks then I’d say Jackie’s got it right.
He [i]
is
[i] being an asshole.”

“Asshole or not, Duke and Jackie aren’t the
only ones at odds over your plan to infiltrate the men’s
league.”

Billie arched a brow. “Infiltrate? Seriously?
You make it sound like I’m pulling a James Bond or something. It’s
just hockey and besides, why does anyone care what I do?” She
leaned toward Bobbi and her sister had the good notion to take a
step back. “Why do [i]
you
[i] care? You should have your
hands full with [i]
Gerry
[i], or is he not enough to keep you
satisfied?”

Bobbi’s eyes narrowed and her cheeks flushed
crimson. “You’re such a bitch.”

Billie shrugged. “I’ve been called worse.”
She paused as a thought crossed her mind. “I saw Shane Gallagher
the other night at The Grill. He asked me to dance.” It was a lie,
but totally worth it to see her sister’s anger triple in less time
than it had taken Billie to utter the lie. For the first time since
she’d returned to New Waterford, her sister was showing some
life.

[i]
I knew she wasn’t over him
[i].

“He looks damn, good.” Billie said
softly.

“For a criminal,” Bobbi retorted.

Billie shook her head. “No, he looks damn
good, period, but then he always did.”

Bobbi eyes narrowed. “You did
[i]
not
[i] dance with him.”

“I did.” Billie went for the kill. “Why
wouldn’t I? I wanted to see for myself what he has that gets your
panties in such a knot and now I know…”

“Know?” Bobbi was livid and for the first
time since she’d been home, Billie was enjoying herself immensely.
“There’s nothing to know. Shane and I had a…a thing a few years ago
but it was nothing more than a…a…”

Billie’s grin widened as she interrupted her
stuttering sister. “The man kisses like he’s been doing it for
years, which, I suppose with his looks he has, and it makes me
wonder…”

“Wonder?” Bobbi arched a brow and her voice
dropped into that dangerous zone that Billie usually avoided, but
she was having way too much fun to listen to the voice of reason
inside her head.

“Well,” Billie shrugged, “which one of us he
prefers.” Her brow furled as if she was lost in thought.

Bobbi inhaled sharply and took a step
forward. For a second Billie thought her sister was going to punch
her, but then a low rumble interrupted them as Gerald Dooley’s
large, expensive, flashy, truck pulled up behind Billie’s modest
Honda.

Gerald stepped down from the truck, his
expression somewhat cautious, as he approached the girls. Billie
didn’t bother to hide her disgust. The man’s jeans were ironed for
Christ sake. Who did that?

He nodded toward Billie. “Big game
tonight.”

“Yep.” Billie moved back up the stairs,
suddenly glad her sister was leaving. Glad the tension would follow
her. Glad she could get out on the ice and forget. “Surprised,
you’re not staying to watch.”

“Oh,” Gerald mumbled. “I didn’t…well, we
didn’t…”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Bobbi snapped.
“Why would we encourage her?”

Billie’s hand was on the front door when her
sister managed to get underneath her skin one last time.

“Just make sure you take some time out from
your busy schedule wrecking marriages and playing tonsil hockey
with Shane Gallagher to check on Dad tonight.”

“Shane?” Gerald piped up. “He’s back in
town?”

Both girls ignored him and Billie’s chest
tightened as she stared at her sister. The feeling of lightness,
that wonderful anticipation she always felt before a game was long
gone.

“Don’t worry about Dad,” she said quietly
before disappearing into the house. She ran to the kitchen, grabbed
two bottles of Gatorade and was happy to see Gerald’s truck gone
when she returned to her car.

“Break a leg, sweets.” Gramps followed her
out and grinned down at her from the porch as she slid into her
Honda.

She laughed. “I’ll try not to.” She threw the
car into reverse and waved. “I won’t be long. Home right after the
game.”

Gramps shook his head. “Don’t you worry about
us old men. There’s a [i]
Criminal Minds
[i] marathon on the
TV. We’ll keep busy. You go out with your team and have fun.”

Billie’s gaze moved upward and her heart
clutched when her eyes settled on the dim light that fell from her
father’s room. A shadow lingered there, once tall but now bent over
with age and sickness.

“I don’t think that’s gonna happen,” she
murmured and reversed out of the driveway.

Less than ten minutes later Billie hauled her
hockey gear down the wide steps that led to the changing rooms
beneath New Waterford’s twin pads. Always a diehard, she’d never
invested in bags with wheels, preferring to carry her equipment and
the only time she’d ever let anyone else lug her gear around was in
Europe.

She paused at the bottom, aware that a lot of
male eyes followed her progress as well as more than a few
girlfriends and wives. She felt their interest. She felt it sharply
and though she was used to attention, this was different. It was in
the covert whispers behind hands, the pokes and nods and the way
most eyes slid in the other direction when they met Billie’s.

A quick glance told her that Logan was
nowhere in sight and the nervous tension in her belly dissipated
when she realized he wasn’t around. Which she supposed said
something, but for the moment she didn’t really want to think about
Logan Forest. Or Logan and Sabrina Fairfax for that matter.

Or the fact that they’d left The Grill
together last Friday and it was obvious they were heading back to
Logan’s to…well, what else would Logan do with someone like
Sabrina? It’s not like they’d settle in for an early evening of
cards and Jeopardy. There’s only one thing Sabrina Fairfax would be
doing with a man like Forest.

[i]
Exactly what I’d be doing
[i].

Her cheeks burned at the thought and she
cleared her throat, yanking her bag a little higher.

Logan had emailed her Wednesday with their
schedule and she knew their team was called the ‘Angry Pirates’.
The name somehow fit and she perused the large board on the wall
until she found her dressing room inked in black marker.

2B—Angry Pirates

2C—Barker

It was good to see they’d given Billie her
own room because, truthfully, she’d expected nothing more than a
damn closet or the bathroom.

She made her way down the hall, ignoring the
stares, glares and yes, even the odd, deluded, and salacious eye on
her butt. Already, the familiar pregame nerves jolted her system
and she was anxious to get into her equipment and out onto the
ice.

Billie found 2C down near the end of the
hallway on her right. She pushed open the door and...

Mike Dearling, who on a good day tipped the
scales at three hundred pounds, stood a few feet away scratching
his butt with the end of his hockey stick. A normal gesture to be
sure, but when you took into account the fact that Mike Dearling
was buck naked and grinning at her as if he’d just scored a
hat-trick in a championship game, it was enough to make Billie’s
stomach roil.

She took a moment and tore her gaze from the
fur that covered the man’s considerable backside and her eyes
nearly popped out of her head. A few feet beyond him, Jason Danvers
was doing the same, though he wasn’t scratching anything and he
sure as hell wasn’t three hundred pounds.

But he was as naked as the day he was
born.

She glanced from Danvers, back to Dearling
and was proud of the fact that she’d kept her cool. Every single
eye of the twelve men in the room was on her. Logan sat on the
bench, halfway up the room with a surprised look on his face. His
pants, shin pads and skates were on, though his chest was bare and
she was more than aware of just how good the man looked. An
intricate tattoo wrapped his left bicep in black ink and another
adorned his right shoulder.

He looked bad ass. He looked ripped. He
looked so damn yummy, it was all she could do to tear her gaze away
and look elsewhere.