Authors: Juliana Stone
Tags: #contemporary romance, #sports romance, #small town romance, #adult contemporary romance
He thought of the defiant gleam in her eye
the weekend before and was pretty sure she’d be able to take it.
Besides, she was sure to have the best legs on the ice and her
hands were great, her stick handling legendary.
[i]
Legs
[i]. Hell, he’d be willing to
bet she had the best legs in the entire county.
Little Billie-Jo Barker was all grown up and
in all the right places, judging from the way she’d filled out
those worn, faded jeans and T-shirt. With her long, glossy hair and
dramatic eyes she looked more like a beauty queen instead of a rink
rat. [i]
More like her sister Betty-Jo
[i].
For Logan, that wasn’t necessarily a good
thing.
He glanced up at Duke Everett. The owner of
the Grill was pushing sixty, with a full head of snow white hair
and an equally impressive handle-bar moustache to go with it. A
former boxer turned wrestler, Duke had toured the States for many
years on a dead end B circuit, until his body couldn’t take the
punishment anymore. Fortunately, he’d met one of the Wilson sisters
and had settled in New Waterford. They’d just celebrated their 20th
wedding anniversary.
Duke glared at the men and threw a towel over
his shoulder, his moustache twitching as his face settled into a
frown. “Longwood is getting himself riled up but good.”
“He doesn’t seem to have anything better to
do,” Logan agreed.
“Ain’t that the truth. He gets his paycheck
and blows half of it in here every Friday night.” Duke shook his
head. “I’m not complaining, mind you. He tosses a lot of cash my
way, but that there is a man who will never amount to
anything.”
“I can’t argue with you there.”
Duke’s brows furled and he shook his head.
“I’m sick of hearing about your damn Friday night hockey league and
some little bit of a girl who’s got half the town in an uproar.
Hell, even my wife’s all bent out of shape over it.”
“What little bit of a girl you two talking
about?”
Shane Gallagher slid onto the empty stool
beside Logan and glanced up at the bartender. “Shit, Duke…you ever
going to trim that thing?”
Logan didn’t know how tense he was until his
muscles relaxed at that moment. He eyed Gallagher closely. His
friend had bulked up quite a bit since Logan had last seen him,
muscles stretched tight beneath his leather jacket. His hair,
always long, was hacked off to just above his shoulders and the
goatee added an air of danger. The thing was, Shane Gallagher
didn’t need any help in the danger department. It kind of came
naturally to him. He’d always been wild—a teenager who’d lived on
the edge with no regard for safety. Shane’s family had never
understood him and neither had half the town.
But Logan and he had bonded in first grade
and had been best friends ever since. A world of circumstance and
bad choices had separated the two men several years ago—Logan
headed in one direction, going to college, while Shane took a sharp
left turn that had led him to more trouble than he could
handle.
And yet, somehow, he and Shane would always
be buddies. Logan had his back and that was something that would
never change. It might be a guy thing, but Logan had always found
it easier to move forward than to keep your head stuck in the
past.
This reunion was a long time coming.
Logan smiled and clapped Shane on the
shoulder. “I wasn’t sure you were going to show.”
Shane cocked his head, and when once he’d
have grinned with a hint of crazy in his eyes, he just shrugged.
“It’s not like I had anywhere else to go.”
Duke cleared his throat and leaned forward.
“It’s good to see you back, Shane. Hopefully this time you’ll stick
around and stay out of trouble.”
“One can only hope,” Shane quipped, though
his lips tightened.
Duke ran his fingers along his chin, ignoring
the couple a few stools over gesturing for drinks and narrowed his
eyes. “I’m serious, boy. Not too many folks get second chances. You
best be making the most of yours.”
Logan watched his friend closely. He saw the
anger in his eyes…the resentment, and those things he could deal
with. It was the other that made him worry, the wooden tone in
Shane’s voice and the cool, blank acceptance that accompanied
it.
“Thanks, Duke but I don’t need a lecture. My
buddy Logan’s already taken care of that and now that I’m back,
it’s a whole new world my friend. New leaf and all that.” Shane
flashed a smile. “But right now I’m thirsty as hell. Can I get a
large draft?”
Duke frowned. “You sure you can have
alcohol?” The bartender glanced at Logan before settling back on
Shane.
“Yeah, I can have a drink. You want me to
produce the official paperwork my parole officer gave me?”
Logan nodded. He’d seen the form.
“Okay, then.” Duke went to grab the drink and
Shane swung around on the barstool. He nodded toward the large
table of men. Seth was still harping on ‘that damn Barker girl’,
talking loudly with animated hand gestures and a full, red face to
go along with it. He looked like a marionette whose strings were
pulled by a lunatic.
“What’s got Longwood all riled up?” Shane
asked.
“He’s pissed because the youngest Barker,
Billie, is back in town and she signed up to play hockey in our
Friday night league.”
Duke handed Shane a large, frosty mug and
snorted. “Youngest? By what…minutes?”
Logan opened his mouth, but then closed it
again and nodded in agreement. Sure they were triplets, but that
didn’t change the fact he’d always thought of the hockey girl as
much younger than the other two. Bobbi had been a hell raiser back
in the day and Betty…a scowl touched his face. Now she’d been leaps
and bounds ahead of the other two. Sexy and mature-as-hell,
Betty-Jo Barker. She’d gone through boys like they were candy and
though he’d like to say he was stronger than the other guys in
town, it simply wasn’t the truth.
In a town small enough where everyone knew
the Mayor by his first name, but big enough that you didn’t
[i]
know
[i] everyone’s secrets, the Barker triplets had been
almost…famous. Three identical girls with movie star looks that
were as different from each other as night and day.
Bobbi and Betty had been a lot more social
than their sports minded sister, Billie, and she’d never really
been on his radar. Hell, he barely remembered her.
He fingered the label on his beer bottle. To
be honest, the kid had looked all grown up and judging by the way
she’d filled out her jeans and that tight pink T-shirt, he was
willing to bet she looked as good in a bikini as Betty did.
Shane leaned back and took a long drink of
his beer. “So whatever happened to Bobbi?”
Logan glanced at his friend sharply. “I heard
she’s dating Dooley.”
“No shit.”
“She’s no good for you, Shane.”
“No shit,” he repeated and then took another
swig of his beer.
“She’s nothing like the girl you used to
know, before.”
Shane glanced at him sharply, his face harsh
beneath the neon glow from the Budweiser sign on the wall behind
the bar. “Before I went to jail?”
Logan watched his friend closely and nodded.
“Yeah, before…that.” It couldn’t be easy for him to be home,
especially when everyone knew he’d been in prison for the last
three years.
Shane rested his elbows on the bar, leaned
back and whistled softly. “Speak of the devil.”
Logan followed his gaze across the bar and
found himself staring into the dark, exotic eyes of none other than
the most infamous woman in New Waterford, at least until her sister
Betty decided to return.
Billie-Jo Barker raised an eyebrow and lifted
her chin in a way that made him sit up. She was with Tracy Steeles
and Lana Holbrook, the Mayor’s daughter.
She sure as hell didn’t look like any damn
jock he’d ever seen before.
In a sea of denim and black, her fire engine
red dress stood out like a beacon. It clung to her curves, falling
to only a few inches below her butt. Black tights and sexy-as-hell
knee-high boots created a vision that would be any guys fantasy.
Her lips matched the color of her dress, her hair hung nearly to
her waist and for a second, the urge to cross the room and plant
his hands deep into those silky waves rolled over him.
Every man in The Grill turned toward the
door. Even Longwood’s never ending ramble stalled. All sound
diminished, like it had been sucked into a black hole and for a
moment there was complete silence. Billie bit her lip—which on any
other woman would have seemed practiced and yet it didn’t seem to
be her style. She leaned close to Tracy, whispered something in her
friend’s ear, and the three of them walked toward an empty table
near the door.
Like the red sea rolling back into place,
conversations exploded once more and Longwood’s voice rose above
them all.
“That ain’t no hockey player. She looks like
a damn whore,” he proclaimed, turning to the group of men at his
table. “Do we really want pussy out on the ice with us?”
Normally, Logan was the kind of man who was
slow to anger. He’d learned early on, it was best to let discourse
find its own solution—that butting your head into someone else’s
business usually led to all kinds of crap he neither had the time
or energy to deal with. But, once his buttons were pushed he wasn’t
the type to lie low and at the moment, Seth’s insults had crossed a
line. He wouldn’t stand by while a dumbass like Longwood insulted a
woman.
“Easy, Forest. They’re just a bunch of
assholes with nothing better to do then bitch and complain.” Shane
shook his head and took another sip from his mug. “Besides, do you
really want me to violate the terms of my parole by getting into a
bar fight with you?”
“Don’t worry about me.” Logan stood and moved
toward Seth’s table. There were about ten men seated, all drinking
and in varying states of sobriety. Most had been quiet throughout
the evening, but now that Billie had showed, they’d become as
animated as Longwood.
“Hell, no.” One of them shouted. “I’m playing
Friday nights to get away from the old lady and hang out with the
boys, not some crazy female who thinks she’s better than us.”
“Damn right. No pussy allowed.” Another piped
in.
Logan stopped and slowly rolled his head. At
six-four, with wide shoulders and a hard, trim body he commanded a
certain amount of respect on sight.
Seth glared at him, his beet red face all
puffed up like he was a Goddamn blowfish. He was going to have to
tune the little bastard up one day. But not here. Not in Duke’s
place.
“Longwood, I’d suggest you keep your filthy
mouth shut.” His steely blue gaze swept over the table as he flexed
his hands. “That’d be a good piece of advice for the rest of you
boys.”
“What the hell’s your problem?” Seth’s words
were slurred. “Christ Forest, we all like pussy but it has its
place.”
Logan’s eyes narrowed as someone yelled,
“Hell, yeah.”
It seemed to bolster Longwood’s bravery. He
puffed up his chest even more. “And that sure as hell ain’t out on
the ice in our league.”
“You really want to get into it with me?”
Logan kept his voice level, but there was no mistaking his state of
mind—he was pissed.
Seth’s Adam’s apple bobbed as his bravery
fled. Nervously he held his hands up. “I don’t want trouble, but I
don’t see what’s wrong with us telling it like it is.” He motioned
to the rest of the table. “There’s nothing wrong with saying what
we feel.”
Logan raised a brow and bent forward,
clapping Seth on the shoulder. He gripped the man hard. “You can
say what’s on your mind, Longwood. I just think it would be in your
best interest to use your brain and choose your words carefully.”
He stood back. “Understand?”
“I’d pay close attention to what my friend
just imparted, because I’m itching for some action and I don’t mind
saying, kicking your asses would ease the scratch real good.” Shane
moved alongside Logan and smiled at the now silent men.
They all knew his history, and they knew he
wouldn’t hesitate to follow through on his promises—or
rather—threats.
Seth’s eyes narrowed. “I’m just saying what
we’re all thinking. None of the captains will draft her. No one
wants to play with her.”
“Is that so?” Logan asked.
He glanced over their heads toward the far
side of the bar. Billie’s eyes were trained his way and though
there was no way she could hear their conversation over the din in
The Grill, he knew she had gotten the gist. It was pretty hard to
miss with all the curses flying and long, hard looks thrown her
way.
He smiled and nodded toward Longwood. “You
don’t have to worry about that. I’ll take her.”
Silence followed his proclamation.
“Logan, what’s going on?”
[i]
Shit
[i]. He’d forgotten Sabrina was
meeting him. Logan swore beneath his breath and turned to the
blonde staring at him as if he’d lost his mind. He had been seeing
Sabrina for the last six months or so and though they’d had a lot
of fun, lately, he found himself bored. There was no reason for it,
except, well, she didn’t hold his interest outside of the bedroom
and even that had started to diminish.
Hell, the last time he’d stayed at her place
he’d fallen asleep on her sofa and hadn’t even made it to her
bed.
Her blue eyes narrowed as she gazed across
the room. “Tell me you did [i]
not
[i] just offer to let her
onto your team.”
Irritated, he ignored her comment and turned
to the men. “I’ll see you boys next Friday.”
Sabrina linked her arm through his and he
fought the urge to shake her off. “Seriously, Logan? You’re going
to play with her?”
“It’s none of your business, Bree.” His voice
was curt and he felt like an ass when she turned her face away,
hurt and pissed off. Damn, it was probably time to cut her loose
before this territorial thing most women developed after six months
ramped up.