A Better Man (12 page)

“Nice to know you're supporting my family's busin
ess.”

Of course he'd followed her into the kitchen. Where else would an alpha male go when he'd been left behind? Alphas didn't like to be left behind any more than they liked to be led. And there was no doubt in Lucy's mind that Jordan was one hundred and fifty percent a
lpha.

“I support as many local businesses as I can.” She grabbed a wine goblet from the cupboard, uncorked the bottle, and poured the glass half full. “And your family makes delicious w
ine.”

“Aren't you going to offer me a glass?” The lift to his dark brow suggested he might be am
used.

“Don't you have plenty at home?” Of course she should offer him a glass. But that kiss had thrown her off-­ki
lter.

Way
off.

“Probably.” He opened her cupboard door, took out a goblet, and poured himself a glass. “But it's a lot more fun sharing with
you.”

Golden liquid splashed up inside the globe as she watched him pour. He tapped his glass against hers, then took a sip. For a brief moment he remained blessedly silent while the wine settled on his taste
buds.

“Nice blend. Ryan's doing a good
job.”

“Your brother is good at many things. I would guess his job is one of t
hem.”

The frown on his face said he didn't like her comment. When he leaned closer, the frown deepened even as something in his eyes sparked. “Let me ask you straight up. Are you interested in my brot
her?”

Jeal
ousy?

No
way.

“If you mean am I interested in him because he's now one of Nicole's guardians, then yes, I'm interested.” She didn't know why she felt the need to reassure him. Jordan wasn't the type of man who needed to be reassured about anything. “If you meant something different, then you'd be mista
ken.”

“Are you sure about that?” He backed her toward the counter and trapped her efficiently with only the presence of his powerful body. Then he dipped his head and ran his nose up the length of her
neck.

Chills drifted down her back and reawakened the girls in the basement, who were suddenly standing at attention. She said, “Positively certain,” even though she wasn't positive of anything other than she wanted her hands all over his hard mus
cles.

He lifted his head and smiled. “G
ood.”

Good?

There had been times in her life, when Lucy questioned a man's words and the meaning behind them. “You stupid bitch” had been one she'd never had to clarify. “Good,” in this case, perplexed her enough to step into the big pile of doo to which they were most likely he
aded.

“I'm not quite sure I understand what you mean by ‘goo
d.'
”

“Then let me make this real simple.” The sparkle in his eyes spelled trouble. “Because I like to be clear about things. Especially if it comes down to being in competition with my own brot
her.”

“Apparently you're not making it simple enough,” she said. “Competition for w
hat?”

“For you, L
ucy.”

S
omething turned over inside Jordan when Lucy blushed. And that something wasn't quite what he'd expe
cted.

“Don't be ridiculous.” She grabbed the bottle of wine and headed into the living room. Ziggy followed close on the heels of her bare
feet.

Jordan followed
too.

“I'm not the kind of girl men fight over,” she said as she made her way toward the sofa. “It's okay. Believe me, I'm fine with that. And please don't tease
me.”

Her clenched jaw and wide eyes made something tighten in his chest. Someone had done a number on her. Or maybe a lot of someones. Including him. God, he could kick his seventeen-­year-­old self's ass right
now.

“Tease you?” He held up his hands, careful not to slosh wine onto the floor. “Only in a good way. But if you think you're not the kind of woman men would fight over, we need to have a serious talk. Because you are definitely that kind of wo
man.”

Expression now passive as though she didn't believe him, she sat down on the sofa, tucked her legs up, and pulled Nicole's paper onto her lap. “As much as I'd like to continue this exchange—­please note the sarcasm in my tone—­I'd much prefer to get back to the reason I called you here. Your sister's future. You do remember that was my original intent, don't you? And not all these deviations in subject mat
ter?”

“What I remember is how good your lips felt on mine and how good you feel in my arms.” Intrigued, Jordan sat beside her, sipped his wine, and wondered what it would take to get Lucy to let down her hair. Literally and figuratively. “But I can assure you that my sister's welfare is never far from my m
ind.”

“Then let's discuss the next steps toward helping guide her toward a bright fut
ure.”

“You mean so we don't have to talk about
you?”

Her dark eyes turned even darker. “As much as I appreciate the complim
ent—­”

“You'd prefer to keep the conversation about my sis
ter.”

“Yes. So if staying on task is something you feel unable to do, please say so now. I can always contact one of Nicole's other guardians for help in this mat
ter.”

“Not an option.” And only because he didn't want it to be. Any one of his brothers could handle this issue. But rediscovering Lucy after all these years was like finding the diamond in a stack of coal. And there was no way in hell he intended to s
hare.

The realization rattled
him.

Even though his friends called him cynical when it came to relationships, he'd been happy with the way his life had been going. He thought of himself as a realist—­frugal of the heart and lifestyle. By choice he lived in an apartment near Charlotte instead of an expensive house on Lake Norman. He drove a Range Rover instead of a Maserati. And most nights he cooked at home instead of dining at five-­star restaurants. He'd been brought up in a pennywise environment and he still tended to live that way. Not that he was cheap by any means; he had the money and could splurge at any given moment. He just had a healthy respect for the hard-­hitting way he earned a li
ving.

At the age of thirty-­three, he realized his days on the ice were numbered. Most likely he had a couple more years, and then he'd have to find something else to do. He'd like to live out the rest of his life comfortably without worrying whether he'd have enough to pay the rent. In the future he wanted to invest in a business. And at some point, he'd like to come home to a wife and fa
mily.

Yes. He admired the woman Lucy had become. But was he ready for
that
? Was he ready to get
involved
with someone? And why the hell was the thought even entering his
mind?

“Why isn't it an option to call on your brothers?” she asked
him.

“They're all too busy.” Sometimes a lie was the best way to handle something. Especially when you weren't quite sure what you were d
oing.

“And you're
not?”

Lucy knocked him off balance. And for a guy whose career depended on his stability, it was an unnerving place to be. “
I
need to do this,” he said, understanding that this, at least, was the truth. “Me. And nobody else except the help you're so generously giving
me.”

When she didn't question his motive, they discussed the possibility of a deeper motivation behind Nicole's assignment story. In the end, Lucy agreed with him that something bigger might be at hand and that questioning a few of Nicki's friends would be the best place to s
tart.

“I'm not sure me approaching a group of young girls would be wise,” he said. “I wouldn't want anyone to get the wrong i
dea.”

“You're probably right. I'll handle it as soon as we get back from spring br
eak.”

“Next week is spring br
eak?”

She no
dded.

“So we have to wait an entire week to find out?” He jammed his fingers into his hair and groaned. “I can't just let my sister's situation sit on idle. I'm worried about
her.”

If he at least knew what he was dealing with, he could get Nicki the professional help she needed. “Her anger and her constant expectation that I'll leave are unreasona
ble.”

“Then it's important for you to stick around,” Lucy said. “Can you do that? Can you put your life on hold for another w
eek?”

Jordan knew where his heart wanted to be. He knew where his dedication lay. But he also had a professional contract and things in that direction could turn real ugly, real fast. He didn't even want to acknowledge the part of him that missed lacing up his skates and hitting the
ice.

It had been weeks since he'd played. He missed the roar of the crowd. The camaraderie with his team. The rush through his blood. He loved what he did for a living. Without it, he really had no idea who he was or who he coul
d be.

It didn't surprise him that he defined himself by his career. It was all he'd ever had. Changing that now would take time and focus—­two things he currently didn't have stockpiled in his f
avor.

“I'll figure it out,” he said. “I need to do what's best for Nic
ole.”

Lucy smiled. “You're a good brot
her.”

“I'm a shitty brother who's trying to make up for practically ignoring her her whole l
ife.”

“Well, hopefully her friends will have some insight. I'll see what I can do to speed up the possibility of speaking with t
hem.”

“I'd appreciate t
hat.”

Jordan took a drink of his wine and his mind wandered for a minute. When he refocused Lucy was talking about Nicole's group of friends. Her expressions became more animated. Or maybe that was just cause and effect of the wine she'd been sipping. He'd refilled her glass twice, and since he didn't know her well enough, he figured he'd best keep an eye on how much more she drank. Not that he was opposed to her loosening up a li
ttle.

Nope.

Not opposed at
all.

“It's crazy,” she said, waving her half-­empty g
lass.

Uh-­oh. What did he
miss?

“Did you know there are girls at Sunshine High who spend over a thousand dollars on prom?” she asked him, then continued because obviously he had no answer. “Whatever happened to just buying a dress and a corsage and borrowing Dad's car? I mean, now these kids rent stretch limos and have
after
parties that go till dawn. And they dress like movie stars. They guzzle champagne in the back of the limos with fresh strawberries dropped into their crystal flutes even though they aren't legally old enough to dr
ink.”

Jordan frowned. How the hell did they get on the subject of
prom?

“Oh come on. Isn't that what prom was like for you?” he te
ased.

“Me? Pfft. I didn't go to p
rom.”

“
Why?”

“Didn't have a d
ate.”

“If I hadn't been such an idiot, I would have asked
you.”

The wineglass halted halfway to her lips before she returned it to the table. With her fingertips she edged the glass farther away. “I'm sorry. I've been talking too much. This isn't about me. It isn't about prom or spoiled teenagers. We're here to talk about Nic
ole.”

Maybe, but he definitely noted something in her words and tone. Although she'd never admit it, she felt left out having missed one of the traditions of the high school y
ears.

“If I remember right, prom is just around the corner,” he said. “So maybe that fits into all of this with Ni
cki.”

“I never thought of t
hat.”

“Mind if I ask you someth
ing?”

Her head tilted back a little, like she didn't quite trust where he was going. “S
ure.”

“When a conversation becomes about you, why do you always turn it around to something e
lse?”

An uneasy laugh bubbled from her lips. “I don't do t
hat.”

“Yeah. You do. It's like you think you're not important enough to talk about. Well, I think you are.” Frustrated, he sipped the last of his wine, then grabbed her half-­empty glass from the table and carried them into the kit
chen.

While rinsing the glasses he tried to clear his mind of all the unpleasant things Lucy must have gone through in her life. The moment he turned off the faucet, he wasn't at all surprised by what thought surfaced to the top. A plan, really. And one she probably was going to fight like a bad hair
day.

When he came back into the living room, she stood by the front door while Ziggy remained stretched out with his big brown eyes watching every move she
made.

“Thanks for coming by,” she said, opening the door and averting her eyes anywhere but on him. “I hope you're feeling more encouraged about your sis
ter.”