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Seriously? She shot a helpless look toward her grandfather who had moved closer to his son.
‘I,” Logan began as a muscle worked its way along his jaw. “I’m sorry, sir. That was inappropriate.”
“Damn right it was,” her father answered aggressively.
Trent’s gaze swung to Billie, his eyes narrowing as he looked her up and down. “Since when do you paint your face like that? Like a cheap whore.”
She wanted to die. She wanted the floor to open up beneath her feet and swallow her whole. “I—”
“You be smart, Billie, you hear? Hockey is your career, not babies.” His eyes clouded for a moment and he shuddered. “Why are you home, again?”
[i]Oh, dad.[i]
Herschel stepped between them and grabbed his son’s arm. “Come on, Trent. There’s a documentary on the TV you’ll enjoy.”
“But—”
“No buts. Let the kids have fun.”
Her father cast another mean look toward Logan. “You treat my daughter with respect, you hear?”
“Yes, sir.”
She watched as her father retreated into the family room just as a door slammed in the kitchen. Seconds later, Bobbi walked up the hall from the back of the house. She’d come in late from work and paused a few feet from Logan, tossing her jacket on the bench beneath the window, before turning to Billie.
“I see you’re moving on from Shane.” Bobbi said.
Billie swallowed painfully. She so didn’t want to do this right now. Not in front of Logan. Not ever.
“And wow, you look good, too,” Bobbi continued, crossing her arms over her chest. “But that’s not surprising since that sweater cost me a small fortune.”
Billie opened her mouth to say something—anything—but Bobbi had already turned to Logan.
“So, where are you two headed?” Her voice was cool and crisp.
“To the city.” Logan answered.
She arched a brow. “Twisted Lemon?”
Logan smiled, but it was a cool, frosty one. “Good guess.”
She shrugged. “It’s where you take all your girls, isn’t it?”
Billie’s face flushed as red as the scarlet runner along the hardwood floors. That was a barbed reminder that she was only one of many women Logan had dated. And this wasn’t even a date. It was a…she wasn’t even sure what the hell it was but Billie was starting to think the entire night was nothing but a big, fat, mistake.
“I’ve never taken you there,” Logan answered sarcastically.
“And you never will,” Bobbi quipped. She pursed her lips for a moment and then surprised them all. “How’s Shane?”
Logan arched a brow. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?” He didn’t wait for a reply but turned to Billie. “Are you ready?”
[i]No![i]
“Yes,” she said quietly.
Logan opened the front door and waited for her to join him. “Let’s go.”
The ride into the city took just under half an hour—a half an hour of stilted conversation and awkward silence that was only broken when Logan flipped a CD into the player. The smooth sounds of “Matchbox Twenty” filled the dead space and he relaxed a little.
