A Better Man (11 page)

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Authors: Candis Terry

BOOK: A Better Man
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As soon as she unlocked her front door, Ziggy started doing a doggy version of the happy dance. Jordan stepped back as Lucy dropped the rest of her things to the floor, sank to her knees, and proceeded to engage in the hugs and baby talk that told Ziggy what a good boy he'd been and what a handsome boy he
was.

Jordan appreciated seeing the straitlaced schoolteacher let a happy bubble of laughter take flight. Knowing how much love and devotion she put into her pet gave Jordan an inkling of how much love she probably had to s
hare.

Not that he was looking for
love.

Since he'd left home at the age of eighteen, he'd never had a dog, a cat, or even a goldfish. There had barely been enough time in his life to date the same woman from the same town t
wice.

Okay, maybe that one had been on pur
pose.

“I'm sorry,” she said to Jordan as she got up off the floor and dusted herself off. “Ziggy and I have a ritual and I need to get his Beggin' Strip before you and I talk. Is that o
kay?”

Jordan often had selective hearing. Lucy on her knees, making a little sweet talk and mentioning something about begging, jumped out like bullet points on an important docu
ment.

“I'm in no hurry.” He jammed his hands deep into the pockets of his leather jacket. Well, maybe he was in a hurry to find out what she had to tell him. But as soon as she walked away from him in that hip-­embracing skirt, he lost his train of tho
ught.

It wasn't like the damn material was see-­through, or short, or anything special at all, really. It just gently hugged her hips and her perfectly rounded rear end. That's
all.

Ordering himself to pull it together, he followed her into the kitchen and watched while she had Ziggy perform a short series of tricks before he sat like a “good boy” to receive his treat. While Ziggy chomped down the snack and Lucy wrapped her arms around the retriever's neck, Jordan thought he might do tricks too for one of those
hugs.

Yeah. Totally not why he'd come
here.

He shook his head to clear it, then waited until she washed and dried her h
ands.

“Would you like some tea?” she asked him, setting the kettle on the burner. “Besides green, I have orange spice, mango sunrise, and Earl G
rey.”

“I'm good.” He'd like a beer or something stronger, but since Lucy seemed like a healthy food and drink kind of girl, alcoholic beverages were probably out of the ques
tion.

“Is it okay if I make a cup for myself? I just indulged in a lemon bar and hot chocolate from Sugarbuns. I think my body is going into sh
ock.”

He scanned the body in question up and
down.

Looked pretty damn good to
him.

“An after-­school meeting?” he a
sked.

“As a matter of fact, yes. With Nicole. And while she didn't offer any answers to her behavior, she was very friendly and open to discussion about school.” A smile brightened her face and showed off the rarely seen dimple in her right cheek. “Have a seat and we can disc
uss.”

Last time he'd sat in her kitchen chair his butt had gone numb. Apparently his hesitation prompted an alterna
tive.

“Better yet, how about we use the living room?” She poured her tea and, cup in hand, led the
way.

Watching the woman leave a room was as fascinating as watching her enter. Lusting after a woman like a sex-­craved teenager hadn't been on his agenda for a long damn time. Yet here he was, needing to roll his tongue back up in his m
outh.

“Thanks for coming by,” she said. “I'd have picked somewhere else to meet you but it's been a long day and I didn't want to have to wait to share this n
ews.”

“Judging by the smile you're wearing I'll guess it's a good th
ing?”

“Indeed.” Her smile shone all the way up into her eyes. “Today I handed out an assignment specifically with Nicole in mind.” Lucy sat on the edge of the white sofa and pulled a pale blue pillow onto her lap. “Something I hoped would spark her interest and maybe give her an outlet to release some of that an
ger.”

Her long, delicate fingers played nervously across the pillow's lace-­trimmed edge. He hoped it wasn't him making her nervous, then he realized that making others uneasy was what he was paid t
o do.

Though there were two comfortable-­looking armchairs, he sat beside her and took pleasure in her sugary scent, no doubt left over from the ba
kery.

“I gave the students until the end of class time to complete the proj
ect.”

“How'd that
go?”

“Better than I imagined.” She lifted her hand, then dropped it to her knee with a slap. “Every student handed in their papers at the end of class. Even Nic
ole.”

“Yeah? But did she do the actual assignment?” He forced a smile that hid the fear that while the rest of the class wrote a story about bugs, his sister wrote a story about grizzly bears eating tourists who hiked in the w
oods.

“She did.” With a grin, Lucy reached into her bag and removed a folder. She pulled out a stack of papers and handed one to
him.

The pink paper had flowers, and the feminine handwriting had been written with a purple pen. He recognized the paper immediately as being from the journal he'd bought his sister. His chest tightened and his heart gave a hard, out-­of-­tempo t
hump.

“She used the jour
nal.”

“She did.” She squeezed his forearm. “
And
she used the
pen.”

He didn't know why the hell something so simple felt so damn good. It just did. “But I probably shouldn't read this. Ri
ght?”

“You're her guardian.” Her head tilted slightly and her long ponytail slid across her back. “Of course you should read
it.”

“But I'm not her
only
guardian. My brothers and I all share equal cust
ody.”

“Doesn't matter how many there are. And because you obviously care a great deal about Nicole's welfare, I think you have every right to read it.” A smile softened her face. “Of course, you might not want to let her know you've done so. Give her the privilege of at least believing she has
some
privacy. I say that only knowing how it feels to be a teen who's trying to stretch her wi
ngs.”

He remembered Lucy as a teen. But he didn't remember her as the type to try and spread her wings. In fact, she'd seemed like the type who'd put herself in a box and tried to live quietly within those tight, confining w
alls.

“I can keep a secret,” he
said.

“Then don't feel guilty. Believe me, if you had an ulterior motive for wanting to butt into her life, I'd stop you in your tracks. But I know your heart is in the right pl
ace.”

She might think she knew his heart; it was just a good thing she didn't know his mind, because it was wandering all over the damn place. “I wish Nicki trusted me as much as you
do.”

“Who said anything about trusting you?” She smiled to take the burn off the remark. “If you don't mind, I'm going to run upstairs for a minute and give you a little privacy while you r
ead.”

“Works for me.” What didn't work half as well was trying to focus on the task at hand and not wonder where Lucy slept. Or where she bathed. Did she sleep beneath soft cotton or silky sheets? Was she a long hot bubble bath or a quick shower kind of w
oman?

Mind swirling in all the wrong directions, he watched her disappear up the stairs. Ziggy came over and lay down at his feet with a long groan. Jordan hoped that didn't mean he'd passed gas. When the air remained clear, Jordan gave the top of the retriever's head a couple of long strokes before he read the words his baby sister had wri
tten.

Chester Rabbit had seen better days. His long ears, which had once proudly stood erect, now flopped like old wet rags on either side of his head. During the move from the house where his Misty Marie had been born, to the new home where she would finish growing up, Chester had been left behind. In the chaos of the move, Chester had fallen from an overfilled cardboard box while the movers cleared out Misty Marie's pink and yellow butterfly
room.

Out in the cold, hard rain, Chester lay on the big front porch until the sun began to set behind a wall of dark, ominous clouds. The storm continued while Chester lay there waiting for his Misty Marie to come back and take him to their new
home.

She would come soon. He just knew it. She would dry him off and then they would snu
ggle.

Night turned to day but the storm raged on. By mid-­afternoon when the mail lady came by he wanted to jump up and shout, “Help me! I've been forgotten!” Because the alternative that his Misty Marie didn't love him anymore was too difficult to ima
gine.

As the mail lady climbed the steps to place a note behind the screen door, she looked down and discovered Chester lying there, sad, wet, and bedrag
gled.

“Oh!” she exclaimed as she reached down, picked him up, and brushed some of the water from his face. “There you are, Ches
ter.”

Hooray! She knew his
name!

Chester's happy rabbit heart nearly pounded from his once fluffy c
hest.

“Misty Marie has been crying all night because she thought you were gone forever,” said the mail lady. “I'm so glad her mommy called me and asked me to come looking for
you.”

Chester wanted to cry with relief, but he was already a soggy b
unny.

“Let's get you home and all dried off so when Misty Marie comes to pick you up, you'll look good as
new.”

Chester wanted to thank the mail lady, but he was too relieved to speak through his little heart-­shaped embroidered m
outh.

“No worries, little bunny. We'll get you back in the arms of the one who loves you the m
ost.”

And as good as her word, she
did.

A few hours later, Chester was snug in the arms of his Misty Marie, where he lived happily ever a
fter.

Jordan held the pink paper tightly in his hands. He blinked fast and hard so the moisture in his eyes couldn't escape. The story was short but beautifully written deep from within Nicki's h
eart.

A heart that for whatever reason, she'd turned cold against
him.

At first glance, nothing in her story indicated anything of a personal nature. But Jordan couldn't help wondering if his baby sister wasn't feeling a bit like Chester, a little lost and lonely, and a whole lot forgotten. He wondered if after the tragedy she'd suffered, she was worried about finding her way or her own happy en
ding.

At that moment Lucy came down the stairs dressed in a pair of jeans, a soft white sweater, and bare feet with light blue painted
toes.

“Well?” Those light blue toes came to a stop right near the edge of the sofa where he sat. “What did you th
ink?”

Jordan didn't t
hink.

He coul
dn't.

Not with all the hope and gratitude lifting up his heavy h
eart.

Unable to speak, he stood and pulled Lucy into his
arms.

G
od only knew how Jordan Kincade's lips had ended up locked on to hers again. As soon as Lucy regained some use of the gray matter in her head, the sensation zapped her body like a ten-­million-­watt circuit. Once again his lips were surprisingly soft and warm and she found herself melting into his embrace and parting her lips when his tongue teased the seam, seeking entrance. She wrapped her arms around his neck, lifted to her toes, and kissed him back with everything she
had.

He gave even
more.

Someone moaned and Ziggy let go a growling
bark.

Breathless, she pulled back. “
Wow.”

“Wow is ri
ght.”

“That probably shouldn't have happened ag
ain.”

“But it did. And if you give me another chance I'll come back for m
ore.”

So would she. Heck, if Jordan's kisses were a hint of the passion he was capable of, sign her up for the whole she
bang.

“And I'm not going to apologize,” he
said.

“I wouldn't ask you
to.”

“Good.” His broad shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Because I think that kiss is something we should have done a long time
ago.”

“Back then I probably wouldn't have allowed it,” she
lied.

The big bad hockey player closed the gap she'd put between them and stepped right into her personal bubble. She tried to hold her ground even though her knees wobbled like gel
atin.

A corner of his mouth kicked upward. “Are you sure about t
hat?”

“What I'm sure of is that we've gotten way off track. Again. And I want to hear your thoughts on Nicole's story.” Flustered, Lucy escaped to the kitchen and set her mug of tea in the sink. To heck with herbal tea, she needed a glass of wine. A large glass. Preferably a Big Gulp
size.

Opening the refrigerator door, she grabbed the bottle of Sunshine Creek Vineyards Chardonnay left over from her book club group last
week.

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