She was dressed in a simple pair of jeans—old, worn ones by the looks of it—and a soft blue sweater that hugged her curves in a way that would make any man’s mouth water. Her hair was loose, just the way he liked it, and hung down her back in soft waves.
“Logan,” she grinned and rounded the table. “I didn’t hear the doorbell.”
Trent closed the scrapbook and pushed his chair away so he could stand—his eyes similar to Bobbi’s. Not real cold, but not exactly friendly.
“I hear you’re joining us for dinner.”
“If that’s all right, Sir.”
Trent’s hand shook as he grabbed the scrapbook off the table. “Well, let’s get on with it, I’m starving.”
“Good,” Billie tugged Logan’s hand and pointed to his seat. “Because I expect you to eat an entire bowl, dad. I’m not kidding.”
Logan thought about the tournament and decided he was better off discussing it with her when they were alone. There was no sense in getting into it with Billie right now. And hell, if he knew anything, it was that he was going to get into it with her.
The thought was strangely exhilarating.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to do that just yet.
Logan has just passed the bread basket across the table to Bobbi when Gerald cleared his throat.
“So, I hear the Pirates are playing in the Cornucopia.”
Billie set her wine glass down. “Angry, Gerry, they’re angry,” she said with a smile.
“Excuse me?”
“The team is called the ‘Angry Pirates’.” She paused, a glimmer of mischief in her eyes. “Do you know what an Angry Pirate is?”
“Billie!” her sister hissed. “Seriously? At the dinner table?”
Gerald looked from the woman who sat beside him and across the table to Billie. “I don’t get it. What’s an Angry Pirate?”
Billie filled her wine glass and passed the bottle over to Herschel who topped his up as well.
“Well, my friend,” she began. “An Angry Pirate is the exact opposite of a Happy Pirate.”
Logan tried not to smile. He’d been well educated on the sexual meaning behind the term when Dearling had gone into great detail about it one night after a game. The urban dictionary was that man’s best friend.
“You see, Gerry—”
“We are not discussing Angry Pirates at the dinner table.” Bobbi glared across the table and reached for the white wine. “I mean it, Billie.”
Gerald turned to his girlfriend. “You know what an Angry Pirate is?”
“Of course I do,” she replied, a slight smile skirting her mouth as she set her glass on the table. She glanced at Billie. “It’s the exact opposite of a happy pirate, right?”
Billie nodded. “Yep, exact opposite.”
Logan ate a delicious goulash—who knew Billie’s talents ran into the culinary world as well. He enjoyed her family a lot and it was nice to see them together when their father was having a good day, and if he appeared a little confused at times, it passed.
“So about the tournament,” Gerald began again. “When do you play?”
“First game is tomorrow night,” Billie answered.
“Which tournament is this?” Trent Barker enquired.
“The Cornucopia, Dad. Remember I told you?”