Collide (The Barker Triplets 2)

“I was hoping to avoid any Barker sightings today,” he retorted, taking a moment to rein in his anger.

“Fat chance of that happening since there’s three of us.”

“Yeah, well there’s only one Barker triplet that I don’t particularly care to see.”

“Sucks to be you then,” she said turning away.

Shane swore, slammed the door shut and crossed over to the driver’s side. He slid behind wheel and shoved the key into the ignition and growled, “Get your seatbelt on,” as he did so. He worked the windshield wipers a bit and when the ice that had formed along the bottom fell loose, he glanced over, his mouth tightening in disbelief.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Shane lunged for her, but she turned away and pressed herself up against the window, giggling a little bit and spilling whiskey down the front of her dress. Her Vera fucking Wang dress.

“Shit,” she murmured and then proceeded to chug straight from the bottle, gasping and wiping the side of her mouth before turning back to him. She offered it up to him, eyes alive with mischief. “Want some?”

“I’m driving.”

“Oh,” a smile widened her mouth. “Sucks to be you.”

“You already said that.”

“I just said it again.”

“No shit,” he gripped the steering wheel and counted to five. “I’m not playing this game with you. Either you give me that bottle so I can toss it or I’m going to haul your ass outta here and you can take your chances with lover boy in there.”

Her tongue darted out and licked the corner of her mouth again and for some insane reason, his eyes followed the movement, resting on her glossy, plump lips. A small puff of air fell from between them as she exhaled sharply. One…then another. And another.

“Can I finish it?” she asked sweetly.

Shane shook his head, not in the mood for her drunken games and held out his hand. “Give me the bottle or…”

His warning hung in the air between them, and though he knew he should just take it from her forcefully, there was something about this game that kept him going.

“Or what?” she asked, licking her lips again before tipping her head back and taking another quick drink. “Jesus,” she shook her head. “Danny needs to upgrade his whiskey. This stuff is shit.”

“Lady at this point, I’m surprised you can taste anything.” He paused. “Give me the bottle.”

He didn’t wait for her answer because he already knew what it was going to be. Ever since the summer he’d turned twenty-two, since that first time he’d really noticed Bobbi, he could probably count on one hand the number of times they agreed on anything and usually, that only occurred when sex was involved and they were arguing about who was going to be on top.

It was an argument Shane always lost because he didn’t care. Sex with Bobbi, whether she was on top or he was, was always hot. Always so fucking hot.

His pants were now so tight that even a quick shift did nothing to alleviate the pressure between his legs. Shane’s mood blackened—how the hell could he be pissed and horny as hell at the same time? In one quick move he grabbed the bottle from her and rolled down the window, ignoring the curses thrown at him as he tossed it outside.

“I would have finished it you Neanderthal. Want not waste not,” she muttered.

“You’ve got that backward as usual,” he glowered at her and snapped, “buckle up.” He turned from her and glanced into mirror as he backed his truck out and pointed it toward the road.

She spewed forth an epic amount of curse words—even for her—as she struggled with the belt buckle.

“Been saving those up have you?”

“What?” She blew her hair out of her eyes as she continued to fumble with the seatbelt and just when he thought he was going to have to pull over and do the damn thing up himself, she snapped it into place and grinned at him. “See?” She leaned back. “I’m not drunk.”

He didn’t answer. Instead he concentrated on the road and decided the only way to deal with Bobbi was to stay quiet and keep his head low. He would get her home and finish off the bottle of single malt scotch he’d been saving for an occasion—if this wasn’t an occasion he didn’t know what was—and he would damn well forget all about Bobbi and her wedding day fiasco.

She settled against the door, still shivering, and he blasted the heat as an uneasy silence filled the air around him. New Waterford was well over an hour away and with the weather sucking like it was, he’d be lucky to get her home in less than two.

In fact, the drive home took nearly four hours. An accident on the Interstate held things up and then it was slow going after that as the wet snow became mixed with freezing rain. By the time he reached New Waterford, it was nearly eleven.