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“I’ve missed you,” she whispered into his chest.
“I know.”
“Wow, everyone is up and no one made any coffee?” They both turned as Bobbi walked into the kitchen, followed by Herschel. Bobbi’s eyes were overly bright, her voice subdued, though a rare hint of a smile curled her generous lips.
Trent slowly released Billie and gazed at his other daughter. “I’m feeling like hazelnut cream.”
“Huh,” their grandfather huffed. “Only an idiot would ruin a good old coffee bean with that artificial crap.”
“Well,” Trent said with a wink. “I guess I’m an idiot.”
Herschel opened the cupboard door and grabbed both the regular roast and a small bag of flavored coffee. He tossed it to Bobbi. “Guess you’re not the only one then.”
Billie glanced at Bobbi and whatever was there between them—that hard, unyielding thing they’d created over the last few weeks—disappeared. For the moment they were like family again and it was all that mattered.
At least until Billie glanced at the clock and realized it was ten minutes to six.
“Shit!”
“What’s up?” Herschel enquired, as he poured water into the coffee machine.
“I have to get to the arena.” She kissed her father on the cheek and grabbed her keys off the counter.
“What for?” Bobbi asked as Billie flew past her.
“You don’t want to know,” she replied and then grabbed an overcoat off the hook beside the garage door, thankful she’d parked inside.
She tossed a “See ya later,” over her shoulder and was gone before anyone could say anything else.
Chapter Seventeen
Logan was still pissed.
He hadn’t seen Billie since Saturday night and he was still hot and bothered…and pissed off.
Hell, he’d been walking around with a permanent boner ever since and not even four fucking cold showers had been enough to quench his desire.
Christ, it was insane how much he wanted her and it wasn’t just because she was so fucking hot. It was the total package. The fire in her eyes when she was talking about something she loved. The dry humor he was sure no one else appreciated. The way her hips swayed gently from side to side when she walked.
The smell of her hair, the line of her jaw, even the hurt in her eyes when she thought about her father.
It was all of that.
Which sucked because he had no way to read her. He didn’t really think she was the cock tease he’d called her the other night. Not really. That was Betty’s style.
But there was something going on and even though he knew he was right about one thing—the Barkers were total screw-ups—he was determined to get to the bottom of it.
And get her into his bed.
It was all he’d thought about.
Logan shifted and glanced down, once more thankful that his dick was hidden behind the thick confines of his hockey pants.
Never had a woman gotten under his skin the way Billie-Jo Barker did. Never. Hell, he’d even considered not showing up this morning, but Christ, he’d plunked down a grand—which wasn’t the smartest thing he’d ever done—for these damn lessons. A grand. One thousand big ones.
Gallagher had laughed until he’d nearly cried.
Him. Logan Forest paying for hockey lessons.
