A Barker Family Christmas (The Barker Triplets 3.50)

Billie was trying her best to hide her disappointment at the way their evening was going, so when they pulled into the parking lot of The Grill, she pasted a big ass smile on her face because she had a feeling it was only going to get worse.

And it did.

For one thing, the place was hopping and by the looks of the full lot, they’d be lucky to snag a stool at the bar. Not a good sign.

She stepped out of the truck and her heel slid across a sheet of ice, which meant that Billie landed square on her butt. A butt covered in red silk. The red silk, of course, belonging to the most expensive dress in her closet. (One that technically she didn’t own as it was a borrow off her sister, Betty—Oops.)

“Shit,” she muttered scrambling to her feet and dusting herself off. She spied a rip along the hemline and let loose with another round of curse words that would make a priest blush.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, Seth Longwood, a guy she’d had more than a few run-ins with, saw the whole thing. His grin went from one jowly cheek to the other, though he hightailed it into The Grill when Logan walked around the side of the truck.

“Hey,” Logan said, arms sliding around her, voice filled with concern. “You okay?”

“Sure,” she replied curtly. “Couldn’t be any better. Nothing damaged except this dress and my pride.”

“We can just go home, Billie.” His warm breath caressed her neck. “I’ll make it worth your while.” His voice held promise, and sex, and chocolate. Most women would have hightailed it home, but Billie wasn’t most women. And maybe it was her competitive nature or maybe she was just stubborn as hell, but she hated losing.

Exasperated, she yanked on his arm. “No way, Logan. I’m buying you dinner if it’s the last thing I do tonight.”

“Trust me. It’s definitely not going to be the last thing you do tonight.”

She pushed open the doors to the restaurant and they both took a moment to gaze around the room. The place was packed. With men. Lots and lots of men. Oh, there were some women too, but the majority of them were men and they were loud and they were only going to get louder as the night progressed.

“Shit,” Logan murmured. “It’s the hockey league Christmas thingy.”

Billie frowned, waving to a bunch of guys on her team. “I don’t remember seeing the memo on that one.”

“Yeah,” Logan said, hand at her back as they began to make their way inside. “They sent out an email over a month ago, but you said we’d be too busy to go on account of your sister’s wedding.”

“Right,” she murmured, eyes moving around the place. There were no seats.

She spied Duke Everett and his wife behind the bar and headed their way.

“Well hell, Forest. You clean up real good,” Duke said with a grin and a wink. “Date night?”

“It was supposed to be,” Billie grumbled. “Are there any tables, Duke? We haven’t eaten yet and I’m starved.” She smiled at his wife, who gave them a wink and continued making the saddest looking margarita Billie had ever seen.

Duke handed a draft to the guy directly in front of him and then pointed to the end of the bar. “Old Mike just paid his tab. I believe he and his boy are heading out.”

Great. With a sigh, she offered a smile. “Okay,” she said. “We’ll grab them.”

Billie took off her jacket, ignoring a few catcalls that came her way as she slid onto the stool beside Logan. Seriously. The dress wasn’t meant for barstools and if it rode up any higher, well, Logan wasn’t the only one who was going to get a peek at her new undies.

“What can I get you?” Duke asked.

Billie smiled brightly. “A nice Californian Pinot Grigio would be lovely.”

Duke’s thick eyebrows meshed into one massive uni-brow as he tweaked the ends of his handlebar mustache. He glanced from Logan and then back to Billie. “A Pinot what?”

Billie sighed. It had been worth a shot. “Never mind, Duke. We’ll take a couple drafts.”

The owner gave her one more look and headed to the taps, while Billie rested her elbows on the bar and glanced up at Logan. His dark eyes were on her, the long lashes hooded.

“I guess beer and wings it is,” she said glumly.

Billie wasn’t sure if he heard her or not because he leaned forward and captured her mouth in a kiss that made her toes curl and her insides heat. If there was a prize for best kisser, Logan would win hands down. The guy knew how to use his mouth.

When Logan finally pulled away, Billie’s cheeks were red, she was hot and flustered and aware that the two of them were the object of attention for a lot of the men in the room. At least judging from the catcalls and whistles.