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Logan had heard about the damn thing for weeks but he’d put it out of his head, not really in the mood. Not that he begrudged the event or the monies it would pull in for the support center, he just preferred to give a donation and be done with it. And after last night, he wanted nothing more than to sit at home, watch the game, and [i]not[i] think about Billie and his brother.
After Shane had burst into the dressing room, the energy between him and Billie had fizzled, if it was even there to begin with. Maybe it was one sided or maybe he was just dreaming. The Barker triplets were complicated. Everyone knew it, so why the hell was he all of a sudden willing to put himself in the sights of a Barker bullet?
“There you are, Logan. Where have you been? I thought you’d be here over an hour ago.”
Logan turned to his mother as she swept toward him, arms outstretched, eyes moving behind him, obviously looking for—
“Oh, no,” she sighed, her large expressive eyes, narrowing slightly. “Where is Sabrina?”
Decked out in a witches costume—one he was willing to bet she’d spent a small fortune on in rentals—she reached up and kissed his cheek, though her hands stayed on either side of his face. As always, warmth filled him when he gazed down at her. His mother was the kind of lady who drank eight glasses of water a day, never went to bed without smearing a ton of cream on her face and neck, and went to the gym faithfully four times a week. Heck, he’d even caught her sneaking out of the house a few years back, when he’d still lived at home, early on a Sunday. He’d been coming in from a night of drinking with the boys and she’d been headed out to her own form of salvation.
She’d given him shit and then she’d shushed him. Told him that even the good Lord believed in a healthy heart and clear arteries and warned him that too much drinking wasn’t healthy for the libido.
He didn’t have the heart to tell her that in fact, he’d found it to be the opposite. Hell, if you weren’t really sure about a woman, add a couple of stiff vodkas to the mix and things became much clearer. Of course, clarity didn’t always carry over to the next morning but that was another matter entirely.
His mom took great care of her body and mind and he knew that his dad was one hell of a lucky guy. Maybe she was the reason he’d never been interested in settling down. How was he ever going to find someone as perfect as his own mother?
[i]Okay
, now I sound like Dr. Phil.[i]
Slowly she pushed away, brows arched, scarlet lips pursed in a frown. “Sabrina?” she asked pointedly.
Hell, he was sure the local grapevine would have taken care of this before she got to him. He shifted. Looked away.
“Look, mom, she’s a nice girl and all, but—”
His mother waved her hand and sighed. “Yadda, yadda, yadda.” Deidre shook her head. “Same old story, my boy.” Her eyes drifted over him and even though he knew she didn’t want to, a small smile claimed her mouth.
“You’re so like your father, except when it comes to commitment.”
He winced. There was that word again.
She squared her shoulders, her gaze running over him critically. “Your costume is exactly what I expected.”
It should be, seeing as she’d ordered it and had it delivered. And, she’d sent over Dorleen from the salon to mess with his hair. Christ, it felt like his head had enough grease in it to lube a car.
“Where is your teeth?”
“What?”
His mother frowned. “Your teeth.”
He thought of the plastic pointy things that he’d tossed onto his dresser. “Yeah, this is about as far as I go, Ma.”
His father, dressed in a black suit, with a long flowing cape, white skin, and what looked to be really cheap, plastic, fake teeth, pretended to bite his wife’s neck, before planting a kiss just beneath her ear.
He was a better man than Logan.
“Glad to see you, Logan.” Max Forest nodded to his oldest son. He glanced around and then nudged his wife in the shoulder. “You owe me.”
His mother looked annoyed but said nothing.
“Bet?” Logan asked as he moved forward, peering into the darkened party room. He couldn’t see shit and had no idea if his brother was there yet.
Or if he was alone.
“Yes,” his father chuckled. “I told her that you’d be alone and I was right. Sabrina wasn’t the girl for you.”
