Chapter Four
What kind of hell had he gotten himself into this time?
When Billy awoke, he was alone in bed. Alone, except for the dull throbbing behind his eyes.
Grinding the balls of his hands into his eye sockets, he tried to ease the pressure.
As far as hangovers went, it was far from the worst he’d had, but add it to the total silence in the place and it was irritating.
Squinting against the light, he took stock. He was still splayed out cattywampus across the bed. All around him, sheets were twisted, and clothes were awry. Only one pillow remained on the bed, and Roxie’s belt was looped around the lamp on the nightstand.
All in all, the room looked like it had been struck by a tornado.
He supposed that was a good way to describe her.
The silence in the place practically screamed at him.
He didn’t have to get up to check. Not only had she left the bed, she’d left the apartment.
His arm fell limply onto the mattress. That familiar sense of anger and resignation settled in his chest. Couldn’t she even share a cup of coffee with him before he cleared out?
Although…
He vaguely recalled the phone ringing at some ungodly hour. “Ah, hell.”
He scrubbed a hand over his face. That was right. Something about having to meet her sisters.
Lifting his head, he glared at the clock on the bedside table. Big red digital numbers read 10:42. Considering they hadn’t fallen asleep until after four, it felt like the crack of dawn.
He sighed.
She’d left. They’d had a good time and they hadn’t hurt each other’s feelings too badly. By all rights, he should hit the road and be thankful that he’d gotten away with only a headache this time.
“Son of a bitch,” he grumbled.
Tossing back the covers, he sat upright. His head didn’t wobble too badly. Away from the slit of light blazing through the window, it was actually better.
Making his way to the open door, he gathered up what clothes were his.
Roxie had already made an initial swipe through, he could tell.
Her clothes had been kicked towards the hamper in the open closet.
A path led to the living room, although a crinkly wrapper sat on the floor like some clue for a forensics expert.
He tossed it in the waste basket as he passed, and his teeth ground.
Two condoms had already been disposed of, along with a wadded-up Kleenex.
His headache kicked him right between the eyes. Grabbing his jeans off the floor, he continued onward, his grumpy mood deteriorating.
A shower made him feel more like himself but finding Roxie’s birth control pills in the medicine cabinet didn’t help his temper one bit. She really didn’t want him getting close, did she? In any way, shape, or form.
The road was calling louder and louder, as was the need for coffee. Heading down a floor, he put on fresh clothes. He’d better drop by Charlie’s today, because it didn’t look like his stay was going to be very long this time. The sex had been great, but all the same old problems were there.
Swinging his duffel bag over his shoulder, he headed out, trying to remember where the closest McDonalds or Dunkin’ Donuts was.
His footsteps slowed on the front stoop, though, when he saw the silver Acura parked in front of the bar.
It stood out like a sore thumb in this part of town, all waxed and detailed.
If there was one thing he could read, it was cars. He’d bet money he knew who owned that one.
His brow furrowed as he looked at the bar.
His head told him he should keep on going.
He’d already slipped up. If he had any self-preservation instincts at all, he wouldn’t let himself get sucked in again.
He knew all that, yet he found himself moving towards The Ruckus.
He’d always been a glutton for punishment, and he was curious. So sue me.
He tested the front door and wasn’t surprised when it swung right open. Stepping inside, he pulled off his sunglasses and waited for his vision to adjust.
“Billy!”
It wasn’t Roxie’s voice, but it was as he suspected. Three copies of her were seated around a table, their dark heads bent together conspiratorially.
Man, it was still enough to stop him in his tracks.
Standing, one of the sisters came over to welcome him.
She looked sharp and pressed in a designer dress, and she smelled like a dream.
It made him glad he’d showered and changed.
The Harley T-shirt he wore wasn’t high fashion, but it didn’t reek of smoke and his jeans hadn’t spent the night on the floor.
The floor of her identical triplet’s bedroom…
“Lexie?” he guessed.
“I’m so glad you’re still here.”
He shook her hand, evaluating her. Up close, he’d thought there’d be more differences between them. There were details, small changes, but overall, they looked so much alike it was uncanny. “That your car outside?” he asked.
She nodded.
“There’s a good engine under that hood.”
The look on her face brightened. Women were like men that way. They all had a soft spot for their rides.
“It runs like a dream,” she admitted.
“I bet you look good driving it, too.”
He was satisfied when that moony-eyed expression returned, the one she’d given him last night before all hell had broken loose.
“Come in. Join us.” Smiling, she drifted backwards until she bumped against her chair.
Maxie had turned to watch, but the expression on her face was different. She was frowning as she stared at the duffel bag he carried over his shoulder. “Are you leaving?”
“Thinking about it.” He dumped his load on another table, finding room between the overturned chairs.
“But we just met you. We haven’t had a chance to talk.”
No, they hadn’t. His gaze caught Roxie’s. She looked surprised to see him and not all that happy about the idea of swapping stories.
He spotted donuts on the bar, and a bit of the devil rose up inside him. “I smell coffee.”
He stripped off his jacket, but suddenly felt like one of those Chippendale dancers when he felt them all staring at him.
Maxie and Lexie were open in their wonder, but Roxie’s look had turned into more of a glare.
She tried to cover it with calm composure, but the expression riled him enough to want to shake her up.
Heading straight for her, he caught her by the chin and gave her a hard, hot kiss. It was quick, but long enough for him to feel her lips soften in response.
And long enough for him to harden somewhere else.
“Morning, babe,” he said, his voice gravelly. “You ran away fast.”
She wasn’t the only one at the table who inhaled sharply.
“Not fair,” she hissed after him.
“All’s fair,” he said, tapping her on the nose.
Continuing along, he circled the bar. The scent of java was pulling at him like a finish line.
He was happy when he found the pot half-full.
He kept his head down as he searched out a mug, but he was watching the table closely.
Skeeter was right. There wasn’t a word passed between them, but there was a whole lot of conversation happening over there.
Lexie and Maxie were asking silent questions, and Roxie was tossing back frustrated glares that clearly said, “Yes, he stayed the night. What’s it to you?”
It was a lot to him.
He took a drink of coffee and the cobwebs in his head started to pull away.
Leaning forward, he braced his elbows atop the bar.
You’d think he would have gotten used to the three of them last night, but he just couldn’t stop staring.
They were so unbelievably beautiful, but it was more than their identical looks.
Roxie had sisters. She had blood. He’d always thought they’d been the same—loners against the world—but that wasn’t true anymore.
Here, they weren’t the oddity.
He was the one thing not like the others.
Maxie leaned her chin against the top of her chair. She’d twisted all the way around to watch him, but her gaze faltered when he caught it. “Hi,” she managed to say.
With as much tension as was floating around, that was enough to make a smile pull at his lips. “Hi back at ya.”
“I’m Maxie.”
“I know.” He blew her a kiss. “Now.”
She blushed bright red. “Did you have a good time last night?”
He coughed as his coffee went down the wrong pipe, and his gaze shot straight to Roxie. She was gaping at her sister like she wanted to yank on her hair. He’d had a frickin’ fantastic time—when his lover hadn’t been pulling away from him.
Maxie’s blush turned impossibly brighter. “I didn’t mean… The party. Did you have a good time at the party?”
She was shy, and it was fascinating to watch. She might have her sister’s face, but Roxie had never been shy a day in her life.
“It was a nice send-off for Charlie,” he said, letting her off the hook.
“How do you know him?” she asked.
Roxie’s fingernails began ticking rhythmically against her coffee mug.
She wasn’t comfortable having him here, and she didn’t like her sisters asking questions.
The set of her shoulders said so. So did the press of her lips and the cock of her foot under the table.
Billy took pleasure in the fact that he could still get under her skin.
Lord knew she could still scratch him bone deep.
“I used to work here,” he said.
“At The Ruckus?”
He looked around the darkened room. With the neon lights off and the booths empty, it seemed more like a library than a drinking hole. Still, the memories were here. “Charlie gave me my first job when I really needed it.”
Lexie leaned forward, curiosity plain on her face. “Was that before or after you and Roxie got married?”
The drumming of Roxie’s fingernails got faster.
Aha. So, she’d shared a bit of their backstory with her sisters, but not all of it.
God, he hoped not all of it.
“Before,” he confessed. Those memories haunting the place became more vivid, and his voice dropped. “But she was in the picture.”
Front and center. He didn’t like thinking back to a time when she hadn’t been in his life.
“What do you do now?” Maxie asked.