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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?
Trent s brows furrowed and he set his spoon down.  That s a full contact tournament in the city.
For a moment there was silence and Logan glanced at Billie. She stared at her wine glass.
 Are you crazy? Bobbi threw her napkin on the table, her eyes wide.  You can t play contact
hockey.
 Why not? Trent asked, a confused look creeping into his eyes. He rubbed his hands along his
forehead.  Has something happened?
Herschel, sensing that things were about to go south, rose from the table and tugged on his son s
arm.  Why don t we go into the kitchen and get that nice apple cobbler out of the oven?
Trent nodded.  All right. He rose and paused before following his father out of the dining room.
 Is everything okay with you, Billie?
 I m fine.
Logan pushed his bowl away, appetite lost.
Trent glanced around the room.  Well maybe you shouldn t be playing this tournament after all.
You don t want to injure yourself before heading back to college, now would you?
 I ll be okay, dad.
Logan watched her father leave the room, well aware that the atmosphere had just changed
dramatically.
 You can t play in the tournament, Billie. Bobbi stood and folded her arms across her chest.
 You can t.
Logan decided it was time to chime in. Right or wrong, she had to know this was crazy. He turned
toward her.  She s right.
Her face was blank for just a moment and then heat flushed her cheeks as she kicked back her
chair and took a step away from all of them.
 I m fine, she said stiffly.  And I ll play if I want to.
Logan loved her fire. He loved her attitude and drive and&
He swallowed as his heart took off. Holy. Hell.
He loved her.
He loved Billie-Jo Barker.
For a moment he wondered if everyone was staring at him because they could see his heart and
soul on his sleeve, but then he realized it was his turn to say something, so he did.
 There s no way in hell I m letting you play in a hockey tournament where there will be a bull s-
eye tattooed to your ass. He ran a hand through his hair.  It s one hell of an ass, but trust me, every
hotdog out there will be gunning for it.
She threw her napkin on the table and gulped another half glass of wine. Jesus, this family drank
wine like it was soda pop.
 I m playing, Logan.
 No, he took a step closer to her.  You re not.
 Are you kidding me? Just because we re sleeping together doesn t mean you get to tell me what I
can or can t do.
 We should leave, Bobbi, Gerald muttered, getting up from the table.
 Leave? Bobbi retorted.  It s just getting good.
 What about your concussion? Logan threw at Billie.
 What about it? she retorted.
He glanced at her sister. Did they all know that Billie was certifiable?
 You were sent home, Billie. Don t tell me it wasn t serious. He was angry now. What the hell
was she trying to prove?
 Okay, it sucked. Is that what you want to hear?
 Which one? he asked dangerously.  The concussion you suffered last year or the one you had a
few months ago?
 What? Bobbi moved toward them.  You had more than one concussion?
Billie ignored her sister and instead, focused her pissed off eyes at him.  How did you know
that?
 I Googled it.
 Jesus, is nothing sacred anymore? You re Googling my injuries? She exhaled.  Look, what
happened in Europe sucked, but I m recovered. My head is good and I can damn well play hockey in
a stupid tournament in the city.
 It s not just a stupid tournament and you know it. There are a lot of ex-junior players entered and
they don t play to lose. Those guys are as fast, if not faster, than you. They re big guys with a lot of
skill.
 Yes! Her shiny eyes were wide and she looked at him as if he was the biggest dummy on the
planet.  That s why I want to play. Don t you get that? She glanced around the room.  Doesn t
anyone understand that?
 I get that one bad hit and your brain could be toast, Logan said through gritted teeth.
 I know how to play smart and I know how to take a hit. What happened in Europe, both times,
were bad hits from behind. I had no way to protect myself.
 You don t think that could happen here?
 I ll stay out of the corners and I ll keep my head up.
He rolled his shoulders. This was like talking to a brick wall.  You can t know what s happening
behind you all the time. You don t have eyes on the back of your head.
 No, I don t, she said her mouth tight.  That s what you re there for.
He took a step forward, all of the warm and fuzzies he d felt for this woman gone, replaced by an
anger that took hold of him hard. The thought of her hurt and lying on the ice made him crazy. How
could she not see that?
 I won t do it.
Her eyes widened and he knew that finally he d gotten her attention.
 You re not going to play?
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