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.
Chapter Nine
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.”
Shane wasn’t in the mood for sermons or warnings or any of that crap. The past week had been bad enough. In a town the size of a peanut, he had more than earned the title of resident bad boy. And now he had solidified the crown by taking away the reformed princess from the local good boy. It didn’t matter that he’d had no part in Bobbi’s fleeing the wedding, the fact that she’d ended up at his place afterward—had been seen leaving his house in his fucking T-shirt and not much else—painted him with the same brush he’d been trying to avoid since he had returned home.
The black one. The one that spelled trouble.
A loud round of laughter drew both of their eyes and Shane watched Bobbi toss back a shot of…Holy Christ, was she really going to start with the tequila again? He ground his teeth together. Hadn’t she learned anything from The Hard Rock?
He caught the frown on Billie’s face as she looked at Logan.
If Bobbi kept this up she would end up going home with someone else – again. Not that he cared. As he’d told Logan, Bobbi wasn’t his concern. Not anymore.
Not even if his guts burned hot at just the sight of her.
“I should leave,” he said abruptly.
“What happened between you two? After you found her at The Hard Rock.” Logan’s gaze was fixed on the beer in front of him, fingers slowly peeling off the label.
Shane’s eyebrows shot up. “Shit, Forest. Are we gonna share our feelings? Is that what we’re going to do? Do you want to hold hands and sing Kumbaya?”
“Nah,” Logan replied with a grin. “I’ve heard you sing.”
All around them conversations rose and fell, traveling along the ebb and flow of energy in the room. People laughed. And snorted. And argued. And sang along to whatever the hell the dance shit was that Duke had spewing from the bar’s sound system.
“Nothing happened. I brought her back from Chesterfield because if I didn’t she would have ended up back at some loser’s place getting a hell of a lot more than she’d bargained for. It was the right thing to do. Anyone else would have done the same thing. She crashed at my place. End of story.”
“So, there’s no chance that the two of you…”
Shane shook his head, his thoughts darkening. “Not a chance in hell.”
They both glanced up as Billie slid between Logan’s legs and Bobbi hung back a few feet. Billie looked uncomfortable. So did Logan.
But not Bobbi. She tossed her hair around like she was a filly in a race and slipped her leather jacket off. The blue silk shirt she wore clung to her curves and Shane noticed more than a few heads swivel around for a peak. The top buttons were undone, leaving the soft swell of her breasts on display and he had to stop himself from reaching out and yanking the gap closed.
“Seth, your tongue just fell out of your head. I suggest you put it back in. Not exactly a good look for you.” Shane eyeballed the man as Seth’s chest heaved and he turned back to his buddies, a loud guffaw following a few moments later.
“I thought you were out of town,” Bobbi said slowly as she stepped up to the bar. She was now inches from him and her scent filled the air around him. It was cold as hell outside and she smelled like summer. Hot-as-fucking-hell-summer.
Why couldn’t she smell like dead, rotted leaves? Or stale musty crap? It would make things so much easier for him.
“Nice to know you’re keeping tabs on me,” he answered.
“I wasn’t,” she said quickly and paused. Then she licked her lips.
Why did women always feel the need to lick their lips? It’s like they wanted men to focus on them. To think of things they shouldn’t be thinking of. Of places those lips shouldn’t be. Things those lips shouldn’t be doing.
“I wasn’t keeping tabs. Billie t
old me in passing you were out of town.”
“I was,” he offered and tossed some cash onto the bar to pay for his one and only drink. He was ready to leave.
Bobbi slipped onto the barstool beside him and grabbed a handful of peanuts.
“So, where did you go?”
Shane was aware that Billie and Logan had moved away and since they were at the end of the bar—even though the room was full—with the empty barstool on the other side of him, they had a modicum of privacy.
Especially since Seth had shoved his tongue back into his mouth and the guys he sat with were avidly watching the game on one of the overhead flat screen televisions.
“I had a meeting with my grandfather’s attorney.”
She paused with the munching of the peanuts, “Oh.”
For a few moments he concentrated on nothing but her painted nails picking through the bowl of peanuts. Vibrant red among the dull, brown shells.
She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, I know he meant a lot to you.”
Pain lanced across Shane’s chest. “Yeah,” was all he managed to say before his throat closed up.
His grandfather Niall Gallagher, the one man who had believed in him when no one else did, had died while Shane was still serving his sentence. It had only been a few months before his release and the fact that he hadn’t been allowed to attend the funeral was one hell of a bitter pill to swallow.
So bitter in fact that it had taken this long for him to even acknowledge his grandfather’s last wishes and attend a meeting with his lawyers.
Shane’s head was still spinning at everything he’d learned.
“So, how is the old step-monster these days?”
Shane took a moment. He pushed at his empty beer glass and stared into eyes that could make any man forget his head. Were they going to do this? This friendly conversation thing?
He shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. I haven’t seen my father or his wife since...” He thought about it. “Since I don’t remember.”
“So they never came to, um, visit you when you were…away.”
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