Offside (10 page)

“Why not?” Bobbi rasped. “Someone has to.”
She glanced toward the house and then swung back, her eyes hard.
“You’ve been home for what, two weeks? And what have you done but
stir up trouble with your stupid idea to play hockey with a bunch
of men. You’ve done nothing about your future. You’ve contributed
nothing to this household. Nothing.”

Billie’s face warmed when she heard Logan
shuffle his feet.

“You can’t even be trusted to look after
Dad!”

“That’s bull—” but she couldn’t get a word
in. As much as she was living inside a storm, Billie saw the same
thing reflected in her sister’s eyes.

“You were practically having sex in the
freaking driveway and Dad was on a rampage with a fucking rifle in
his hands.”

“It’s not my fault Dad—”

“Nothing’s ever your fault is it?” Bobbi
sneered.

A strangled sound fell from Billie’s lips and
she clenched her hands, wanting to plow her sister in her perfect
and righteous nose. She took a step closer.

““And I suppose your tongue just happened to
fall into Logan Forest’s mouth?” Bobbi continued viciously. “All
night long?”

Billie saw red. Vivid, Technicolor red. Her
voice lowered as she leaned forward. From the corner of her eye she
saw Gerald step back. Smart man.

“Why do you care whose throat I shove my
tongue down?”

“Real classy,” Bobbi retorted.

“Why are you home anyway?”

Bobbi pointed toward the house. “I didn’t
trust you with Dad and seems I was right.”

“You’re so full of shit, Bobbi. You came home
because your night with Dooley was a big fat dud. He spent all that
money on a bed-and-breakfast and I bet he didn’t even get into your
pants.”

She could tell by the expression in her
sister’s eyes that she’d hit the nail on the head.

“I think it was a dud because you can’t stop
obsessing over Shane Gallagher.”

“Don’t you dare go there,” Bobbi’s voice was
hoarse. “You don’t know anything about Shane and I.”

But she was going to go there. And she was
going to hammer it home hard.

“I know that he happens to be the man I spent
last night with.”

Shocked silence followed Billie’s declaration
and only after she took the time to appreciate Bobbi’s pained look,
did she think about Logan. About the amazingly hot and delicious
kiss they’d shared.

About the fact that he wasn’t into playing
games.

About the fact that she’d just lied through
her teeth.

Sure she’d spent most of the night with Shane
but they’d talked. Nothing inappropriate had occurred. Why would
it? Shane Gallagher was still in love with her sister and judging
by the hurt in Bobbi’s eyes, her feelings for the man ran a lot
deeper than she wanted anyone to know.

Maybe a lot deeper than she even
realized.

“Well, then,” Bobbi said as she turned toward
the house. “I hope it was worth it.”

Billie watched her sister march up the porch
steps and disappear inside the house. She winced as the door
slammed shut, heart beating madly against her chest. God she wanted
to lean on something because her legs felt like noodles.

Gerald cleared his throat and took a step
toward the house, but thought better of it. He mumbled something,
climbed into his truck and pulled away.

Slowly, Billie turned.

Logan leaned against his truck, hands shoved
into the front pockets of his jeans, his expression blank. He
pushed off and gazed at her for a few moments until the silence
became uncomfortable.

“I, uh…”

He arched a brow, but didn’t take his eyes
off her.

She knew what he was thinking and didn’t know
what to do or say to make it right.

“Thanks for the lift,” she mumbled, eyes
skirting away as she exhaled a shaky breath.

“Sure,” Logan answered. “No problem.”

He hopped into his truck and slowly backed
out of the driveway.

Billie listened as the motor eventually faded
and then she gathered up her hockey gear. She wanted nothing more
than to go away and hide. To not face her sister and see the hurt
she’d instigated.

But that would take wheels and since her car
was out of service for the next few days, she heaved the bag over
her shoulder and followed in her sister’s footsteps.

By Monday morning word about the damage to
Billie’s car had spread throughout New Waterford. The town was
small, and though the residents weren’t immune to crime, something
as deliberate and mean spirited as what had happened—to one of the
Barker triplets no less—made for many animated conversations.

Add to the mix, the fact that Billie had
already stirred the pot with her ‘crazy desire to play with the
boys’—other people’s words, not his—and Logan couldn’t get away
from it.

Hell, he felt bad for what had happened and
he’d like nothing more than to get his hands on the asshole
responsible, but he had to be honest—he was still pissed about the
kiss. About how good it had felt. About how good she had felt.
Against his body. In his arms. In his mouth.

Shane had been gone most of Saturday and
hadn’t come home until late Sunday night. Three guesses as to who
he’d spent all those hours with.

Three guesses as to what they’d been doing
because Logan sure as hell knew what he’d be doing if it was
him.

Not that Logan should care. He’d decided at
some point between stalking the loft and shooting daggers at the
evidently empty apartment—and his fifth bottle of beer—that
Billie-Jo Barker was off limits.

He’d already been there and done that with
her sister, Betty.. They had hooked up once a long time ago and
she’d totally ignored him afterward. He’d never been able to figure
out what made that girl tick and eventually had given up trying.
One thing had become crystal clear–the Barker triplets were more
trouble than they were worth. All three of them were wired to screw
with men.

His jaw clenched as he slid from his truck
and locked it, not surprised to see Shane’s bike already parked in
his end spot. As he entered his shop, he was however more than a
little annoyed to see Billie’s hunk of junk parked in the last bay
next to a one of a kind custom bike, due to be delivered to a
corporate customer in Flint, by the end of the week.

Why the hell was it in his shop? He was damn
sure it should be parked inside Gord’s Garage, not here.

He frowned as his office manager, Janelle
walked toward him, coffee in hand. A few years older than Logan,
she was happily married with twins, and more than a little grateful
they were in school full time. Her long blonde hair was tied back,
her trim figure nice to look at in a pair of worn jeans, and a blue
sweater that made her eyes pop.

Her lips curved into a half-smile as she
stopped a few inches from him, and not for the first time Logan
thought of her husband Dave, his first cousin. Lucky bastard.

“Shame what was done to Billie’s car,” she
murmured as she offered him an overly large, overly fried,
donut.

Logan declined the donut but grabbed the
coffee. “Yes, sure is,” he replied.

“Is Shane working on her car?”

Logan’s gaze swung back to the far bay. “Not
as far as I know.” His eyes hardened when he spied his friend on
his cell. What the hell was Shane thinking getting in the middle of
sisters—especially the Barker sisters. Everyone knew they were
volatile as hell.

He sipped his drink and started for his
office, located on the far side of the shop.

Shane raised his chin in a hello, ear still
stuck to his cell as he passed, and Logan nodded in return as he
passed all five bays—which were full with two cars and three bikes.
He called out greetings to his techs as they readied for another
work day and peeked into the ‘shack’, a closed off room just behind
his office, where Pete was getting ready to paint a vintage 1967
Mustang.

“Hey boss,” Pete nodded. “I’ll try my best to
have this done by the end of the day.”

“I appreciate it, Pete, but there’s no rush.
The customer isn’t picking up until Wednesday.”

“Okay,” Pete nodded as he slipped into white
coveralls. “But, Gallagher wants the room by tonight.”

Logan’s mouth thinned. Two guesses as to
why.

He ducked into his office, tossed his now
empty coffee cup into the garbage and then stuck his head outside
the door.

“Gallagher, can I see you for a minute?”

Shane had just pocketed his cell and strode
over. “What’s up?”

Logan glanced behind him. “Why is Barker’s
car here? We’re not equipped to fix cars. We make them.”

Shane looked surprised. He shook an errant
strand of long hair that hung in his eyes and arched a brow. “I
didn’t think it would be an issue.” He shrugged. “I told Billie I’d
work on it for her. I don’t trust Gord. He’s been pretty vocal
about her playing in the league.”

“Uh, huh.”

Shane’s eyes narrowed and he leaned his jean
clad hip against Logan’s desk. “Why wouldn’t I offer a bit of help?
I’d do it for anyone else.”

“Maybe because you work for me and I need you
to finish up the bike as it’s going to actually generate some
income?” He sounded like a bastard, but Logan couldn’t seem to help
himself.

Shane crossed his feet as a slow grin spread
across his face.

Logan scowled in return, moved passed his
friend and slung his large body into the chair he rarely sat
in.

“No worries, boss. I’ll work on the car when
I’m done with my…regular duties, if that’s all right.”

“Just don’t let your charity work interfere
with the shop.”

There was a pause as Shane straightened. “You
know, she’s having a really hard time and not because of,” he waved
toward the shop, “all that stuff. It’s everything else. Her
career’s in the toilet…her father isn’t good.”

Logan swore beneath his breath and nodded. He
thought of Trent Barker. He’d heard rumors that Trent was
deteriorating, dementia being the culprit, but he’d not been
prepared for how frail and helpless he had appeared to be.

He could only imagine how Billie felt.

“What’s really going on…boss?”

Logan’s scowl deepened. He didn’t much care
for Shane’s sarcastic tone—he hated being called boss—or the glint
in his friend’s eyes.

“Because if it was anyone else, I don’t think
you’d have a problem offering a little help.”

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea for you
to get involved.”

Shane’s brows shot up.

“With the Barker sisters.”

“Involved as in…” Shane’s expression was flat
and a dangerous vibe filled the room but Logan didn’t give a crap.
The guy had always been drawn to chaos and if he thought screwing
around with Bobbi and Billie was going to end well for him, he had
another thing coming. Considering Shane and Bobbi’s history, it was
Billie who would end up in the middle. She’d be the collateral
damage.

“Do I need to spell it out, Gallagher?”

“It would help.”

“Do you think Bobbi is going to like the fact
that you’re seeing her sister? Do you think that’s going to
encourage sibling love and affection?”

Several moments of silence ticked by and
Logan hated that every single one of them hammered home the fact
that he felt like a damn teenager. Why the hell did he care who
Shane was having sex with? Was Bobbi’s relationship with her sister
really his concern? Hell, he and Bobbi had never been close. She’d
been the woman who’d virtually sent his buddy over the edge.

Shane and Bobbi had always been a volatile
combination—a powder keg ready to explode—and he’d watched from the
sidelines knowing it wasn’t going to be a pretty ending. And when
it had finally happened, he’d been right.

Shane had pretty much gone off the deep end
and Bobbi had become an absolute bitch.

“You think I’m screwing Billie?” Shane’s
voice was even keel, but the hard look in his eyes wasn’t. “You
think I’m that guy?”

The door to his office swung open. “Hey,
Logan. We just had four tires delivered for Billie’s car.”

His office manager Janelle looked from Logan,
back to Shane, and then quietly closed the door behind her.

“Aren’t you?” Logan asked as he stood.

The hard lines of Shane’s face stretched thin
over his cheekbones as he grounded out, “no”, before folding his
arms across his chest.

“You expect me to believe you guys just shoot
the shit and nothing else,” Logan asked incredulously. He thought
of Billie’s announcement to her sister. Why would she lie?

For a moment, Shane said nothing, his eyes
hooded, his expression fierce. He cocked his head to the side. “I
see what this is.”

Shane moved toward the office door. “Believe
what you want. I have no reason to lie. I like Billie. I can talk
to her. There’s no judging or expectations.” Shane paused, his hand
on the doorknob. “I don’t owe you an explanation, Forest, but I’m
really curious as to why the hell you care.”

Logan scowled and sank back into his seat.
Why indeed?

He thought of Billie’s declaration to Bobbi
and realized she hadn’t said she’d slept with Shane, she’d inferred
it. It was becoming apparent to Logan that the dynamics between the
Barker sisters were screwed. Their relationship shouldn’t matter to
him. [i]
Billie, shouldn’t matter
[i].

And yet, as he ran fingers over the stubble
on his chin, he was more than a little surprised how relieved he
felt knowing Billie-Jo wasn’t sleeping with Shane.

So what the hell was up with that?

By Monday evening, not only had four tires
been delivered for Billie’s car, a cash donation for paint
materials and other incidentals had been dropped off as well. Shane
volunteered his labor and Logan agreed to eat any other expenses
that were incurred.

By Wednesday afternoon the car looked like a
million bucks. Her stereo was shot, so Logan had grabbed an old one
from the storage room and traded it out himself. When she arrived
near closing time to pick it up, he was just finishing up.