A Better Man (26 page)

Her shoulders lifted with a sigh. “You don't underst
and.”

“Then make me understand.” He tossed his hands up. “Because right now I'm confused as h
ell.”

She looked away. When her gaze came back to him, he could see the shadows from the past em
erge.

“When I went through the divorce my name was dragged through the mud. His family hired the biggest, baddest attorney in town—­who also happened to be a close family friend. The man made me look ridiculous. Like I asked for the abuse because if I hadn't liked it I wouldn't have stayed with him for so long. It was like the rape cases you hear about where, because a woman wears a short skirt, she's asking for it. The judge also happened to be a close family friend so I was in a lose-­lose situat
ion.”

Jordan never understood how that could happen in a court of law—­how a victim could be made to look like the one at fault or how a judge wouldn't be recused because he knew the players in the case and couldn't be impartial. When she put it in those terms he began to understand a little more what she'd gone through. And he got a big clue that maybe for Lucy, this really wasn't about how much he had going on, but more about how his life operated in the limel
ight.

“People called me a liar. They said I was making up stories just so I could get a big divorce settlement. I didn't want money; I just wanted my life and my dignity back. I didn't want to see my name in the newspapers anymore. It took me a long time before I regained my confidence and could look people in the eye again. I walked away with a suitcase of clothes and a hefty bill from my attorney. But I can tell you that no amount of money I might have received would have made up for what I'd been thro
ugh.”

“Jesus, Lucy. Who
was
this guy you were married to? Didn't you ever file a police rep
ort?”

“Who would have believed
me?”

“No one? Not even your mot
her?”

“My mother and I haven't spoken in years. Her life revolves around cigarettes and a bottle of her poison of choice. If she never came to my defense when I was a kid, how could I ever hope she'd do so
now?”

“I'm sorry, L
ucy.”

“You have enough on your plate, Jordan. You don't need to be worrying about me.” She closed her eyes. “Devote your time to your career and your family. They need
you.”

“What about
you?”

“It doesn't mat
ter.”

“Then what about what
I
need?” He clasped her arms. “I need
you
, L
ucy.”

“Jordan.” She turned her head. When she faced him again there were tears in her eyes. “Please. This is the way it has to
be.”

Jordan dropped his h
ands.

Inside he was absolutely ripped apart; devastated that she didn't have enough confidence in him—­in them—­to see things thr
ough.

When she leaned in and kissed his cheek his heart shattered in a million pi
eces.

O
n Saturday morning Jordan woke up in the bed at his grandfather's cabin in a foul mood. Last night he and Nicole had dropped Lucy off at her house on their way home. After he'd gone inside to check and make sure there were no bogeymen hiding in her closets, he'd wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her good-­bye, but she'd kept enough distance between them to make that impossible. Unless he'd tackled her. Which, as bad as his heart ached, had been a possibi
lity.

On the flight home she'd sat at the back of the plane with Nicole, listening to a new song his sister was working on. When the music ended, the two of them put their heads together and chatted about this and that, completely excluding him. He was sure that, once again, he'd be the bad guy. A fact proven when he drove Nicki up to the main house, carried her bag inside, and was given a snippy “Thanks” for his efforts. He didn't know how the hell he kept getting himself in that predicament but apparently all those penalty minutes he'd racked up during the games had leftover k
arma.

A nasty one at
that.

After two strong cups of coffee he wandered over toward the main house to sit down with his brothers and go over the newest details of the missing money and exactly who was going to live in the house with Nicole until she went off to col
lege.

When
hopefully
she went off to col
lege.

On his way to the house he walked up and down a few rows of vines. The first buds had started to appear and the ground was moist from the early morning rain. He walked up to the event center and went inside. Any signs of the night he'd taken Lucy to the prom had long ago been cleaned up, removed, and delivered back to the high school. But even with everything gone, he could still picture her in that lovely gown, looking up at him as he danced with her in his
arms.

Presently there was a full staff decorating tables with blue and purple flowers and peacock feathers for an afternoon wedding reception. A large white tent was being constructed outside to keep the wedding party and guests dry from the light rain that had been predicted for the after
noon.

Usually he never paid attention to things like weddings. For some reason the sight of one being set up on his family property coiled around his heart. The only one of them who had tied the knot or even gotten close had been Ryan. None of them ever thought Laura was the right woman for their oldest brother, and she'd proven them all correct. Still, they'd supported Ryan a hundred percent before the wedding and after she skipped
town.

Jordan had never thought much about marriage other than he figured it would eventually happen someday. He'd never gotten the right feeling for or from a w
oman.

Until
Lucy.

It hadn't been even twenty-­four hours and he already missed her so much it ached deep in his c
hest.

He needed to keep walking. Find something to distract him from fighting the need to go over to her house and kiss some sense into
her.

With his hands on his hips he took a good look at the property—­the rolling hills, the creek, the rows upon rows of grapevines, the buildings in need of updating. What he saw was potential. There were so many ways they could make this a destination instead of an aftertho
ught.

While he'd been on the plane last night with no one to talk to except Ziggy, who'd abandoned him as soon as Lucy called his name, he'd made notes about investigating wine production in the area. A few new local winery tour companies had sprouted up, and he wondered if Sunshine Creek was on their map. He'd have to make sure he asked Ryan. Wine-­tasting tours were a great way to bring in rev
enue.

When he opened the front door to his parents' house, Ryan, Declan, and Ethan were already settled around the dining room table with a carafe of coffee in the middle and various breakfast pastries piled up on a plate. The acid from the two cups of coffee Jordan had drunk clawed at the empty pit of his stomach. He figured what the hell and grabbed two bear claws before he poured another
mug.

“Dieting again?” Declan smirked. “Or drowning your sorrows in su
gar?”

Jordan looked up. His brother couldn't possibly know that Lucy had kicked his ass to the
curb.

“Exactly what sorrows would I have to drown? Our team is one step away from the playo
ffs.”

“And you're front-­page news too. Gee, aren't you lu
cky.”

“What the hell are you talking ab
out?”

Ryan shoved the newspaper in his direction. When Jordan picked up the
Talk of the Town
and read the headline his blood pressure blew through the
roof.

KINCADE HOT FOR TEA
CHER?

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He couldn't believe the North Carolina article had made it to front-­page news in the local trash paper. “This is bulls
hit.”

Lucy's worst-­case scenario had transp
ired.

“Is it?” Ryan lifted his cup of coffee and looked at Jordan over the
rim.

Arms folded, Ethan asked, “Does this have anything to do with your tux-­wearing apol
ogy?”

“I don't want to talk about my personal business.” Jaw tight, Jordan bit off a piece of bear claw and nearly choked on the glob of sugary i
cing.

“Too damn bad,” Parker said as he came into the room. “You start making trouble around here, you have to answer to
us.”

“How the hell did I start trouble?” He shoved the rest of the pastry into a napkin, wrapped it up, and squeezed it in his hand. “I merely asked Nicole's favorite teacher to come along because I thought she could help watch Nicki while I worked and maybe she could help her out with her assignments
too.”

Parker laughed. “That's the lamest bullshit story I've ever he
ard.”

“What do you want me to say? That I took Lucy along for my own personal reas
ons?”

United, his brothers said, “
Yes.”

“Okay.” He wiped the sugar from his fingers with another paper napkin. “I'll admit it was half and h
alf.”

“And are you hot for teac
her?”

“If you're worried about Ms. Diamond's character, don't. She's too smart for t
hat.”

“Meaning?” Declan's eyebrows jacked up his fore
head.

“Meaning whatever I thought we might have had, she showed me the error of my think
ing.”

“Stop dancing around.” Parker poured himself a cup of coffee. “What the hell happe
ned?”

“Are you asking out of genuine concern?” Jordan asked. “Or are you just being n
osy?”

“Nosy,” Declan admi
tted.

“Gee. Just when I was starting to love you again you go and get na
sty.”

“Did she dump you? Is that what crawled up your butt this morn
ing?”

Fuuuuck. He did not want to talk about
this.

“He did say she was smart,” Ethan reminded
them.

“She's probably way out of his league,” Parker quipped. “I don't think Mensa allows hard-­hitting hockey play
ers.”

“I'm glad you think this is so fu
nny.”

“It's only because we love you, bro.” Declan smiled, and Jordan had a hard time staying mad at the person he'd once built sheet tents with so they could stay up all night building stuff with Tinker
toys.

“I'm going to keep that in mind when a woman takes you down to your knees,” Jordan
said.

“Only one reason a woman will ever have me on my knees.” Declan grinned. “And I can guarandamntee there won't be any clothes invol
ved.”

“Right, Mr. Celib
ate.”

“Celibate!” Heads turned in Dec's direction while he cringed and flipped them all the
bird.

“All right. Let's stop joking around,” Ryan said. “This sounds seri
ous.”

It
was
ser
ious.

But how could he tell these yahoos he was related to that the woman he'd fallen hard for had decided he wasn't worth the effort? He knew she felt something more for him than just the pleasure of great sex. Still, she'd found it pretty damn easy to give him the boot. He needed to investigate how serious of a problem this article was for her. He didn't want her to lose her job or respectability because of him. And he certainly didn't need to lose any more points in his f
avor.

Aunt Pippy came through the door too late to rescue him, but she did brighten the room with a purple and yellow geometric print dress with a wide vinyl belt, silver shoes, and dangly earrings in the shape of bananas and ora
nges.

“Sorry I'm late,” she said, dropping her big yellow bag on a nearby chair. “Had to hit up the farmers' market first. Heard Mountain Ridge Cellars was having a wine tasting. Thought I'd go incognito and check out the go
ods.”

Incog
nito?

His aunt's outfit glowed bright enough to be seen from outer s
pace.

“You've been hitting the bottle already?” Parker teased. “It's not even ten o'clock in the morn
ing.”

“Just a nip.” She sat down across from Jordan and snapped up a powdered sugar donut. “They're charging ten bucks for five wines and they aren't even filling the glasses a quarter full. That's some profit they're going to take h
ome.”

“Maybe we should be following suit,” Ethan
said.

“I say we expand the wine-­tasting room right here,” Ryan said. “Bring them to us instead of us going to t
hem.”

“How are we going to do that when we're in the red?” Jordan asked. “Have we found out any more about the missing mo
ney?”

Aunt Pippy had just taken a bite out of her donut. Powdered sugar lined her lips when she popped up out of her chair. “Anyone need more coffee? I'll make a fresh pot.” And away she went, disappearing into the kitchen without even waiting for a resp
onse.

Jordan noticed that whenever they started to talk about the missing money she found a reason to vanish. But there was no way she could have stolen the money. She never dealt with the finances of the vineyards. Sometimes she helped out with picking the grapes at harvest, but for the most part, she didn't have much to do with the busi
ness.