Offside (The Barker Triplets 1)

Seriously. Didn’t his dad have a dog to save or something?

“Why can’t you find someone nice like the girl who Connor brought, the Barker girl.”

He turned and eyed his mother.

“She’s quite lovely. Not as wild as the one you were involved with.” His mother smiled. “Just lovely.”

“And athletic,” his father piped in, a twinkle in his eye as he gazed at his son.

Logan had had enough, and besides, he’d caught sight of a platinum head that looked an awful lot like Sabrina.

“I’ll see you guys inside,” he murmured, kissing his mother’s cheek one last time.

She grabbed his arm. “I just want you to be happy.”

Logan’s eyes softened. “I know.”

“Thanks for all the help you did with the hockey and basketball games.”

“No problem,” he answered. “Shane did a lot too.”

For a moment his mother’s eyes clouded. “I’ve been meaning to come by and see him. His father isn’t doing all that well. Shane knows that, right?”

Logan sighed. “Yeah, he knows.”

Shane’s relationship with his family was a hell of a lot more complicated than most people knew. Shane had told Logan once that dealing with his family was like running through a maze, one that was too hard to navigate. You could either get lost forever, or get the hell out.

Shane had opted to get the hell out, though jail wasn’t exactly the destination he’d had in mind.

One of the women who served on the charity board with his mother approached. Mrs. Toico. He saw the predatory gleam in her eyes from across the room, [i]and[i] her daughter Heather tagging along. He quickly kissed his mother’s cheek, nodded to his father and entered the dark, ‘haunted’ mansion.

Candlelit tables circled the entire room, while large swatches of gauzy material hung from the ceiling, creating a smoky haze in the air. The dance floor was in the center with a stage directly across from the entrance. His buddy, Ike and his band were just warming up to play—they were dressed like zombies—and judging from the crowd out front, they were eagerly anticipated. A blend of pop, rock, and country, Ike’s band pleased most everyone, except old lady pick-up—Mrs. Darcy, the local crazy lady who picked through everyone’s garbage and then stored it in her barn. She’d surely stood off to the side and shout hymn suggestions at the stage, just like she’d done for the previous two years.

Logan bought a handful of liquor tickets and strode toward the bar, his gaze constantly moving, looking for his brother.

[i]Looking for Billie.[i]

He grabbed a beer, politely declined a dance with Heather Toico, and took a long drink, letting the cold liquid slide down his throat as he shifted in his hot clothes. His head was itchy too. Shit, how in the hell had he let his mother talk him into this getup, he’d never know—probably the guilt of knowing he’d show alone.

“Oh, my gawd!” A shriek sounded beside him and Logan turned, nearly spilling his beer. Tracy Steeles sidled over to him and licked her lips seductively, as she poked her girlfriend, Lana, in the arm. “He looks just like Eric from—”

“Oh my God I know! The long legs, the leather, the…”

Logan arched a brow as the two women continued to discuss him like he wasn’t even there.

“Well, his face isn’t so much like Eric’s.” Tracy smiled devilishly, which considering she was wearing a skimpy red ensemble that sported little iddy biddy horns and a tail, wasn’t unexpected. She slipped her hand along his forearm, “Logan’s darker, hotter…”

“You’re so right,” Lana nodded.

Tracy leaned forward, her breasts nearly spilling from her top, and well, Logan couldn’t help but look. He was human after all. She tilted her head to the side. “You want to bite me, Logan?”

He had to give it to her, she was really playing it up. Especially considering her fiancé stood a few feet away, a long suffering look on his face as he held three drinks in his hands.

Logan leaned down, until he was practically nose to nose with Tracy. “Where’s Billie and Connor?”

A sly smile claimed her mouth and she licked her lips once more as her fiancé approached and handed Tracy her drink. “Jealous?” she asked cheekily.

“Forest,” Jake Buchanan said. He put an arm around Tracy and hugged her close, growling while she giggled into his neck. “Tracy being obnoxious already? She’s only had two drinks.”