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Authors: Candis Terry

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BOOK: A Better Man
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Especially to her h
eart.

If anyone had tried to tell her that on a whim she'd go to an unfamiliar state in an unfamiliar situation with a man who embodied the word
dangerous
, and jump in bed with him, she'd have told them they'd bonked their head too hard. If anyone had told her she'd do all the naked things she'd done with Jordan—­happily and willingly—­she'd have told them they were a quart low in the gray matter department. If anyone had told her she'd march into the local newspaper office and threaten the proprietor, she would have put them on the waiting list for counse
ling.

Everything had cha
nged.

It scared
her.

And yet, at the same time she felt good. The worst thing had happened. She'd faced it and won. She didn't crumble or cry. She'd stood up to wrong and it felt very right. The only thing that didn't feel right was walking away from Jo
rdan.

She'd told him they'd never fit. But they did. So why was that so hard for her to ac
cept?

How could she go on with her life status quo when she now knew what it felt like to share special moments with him? What it felt like to be in his arms? What it felt like to wake up beside
him?

A car pulled up in front of her house and she squeezed her eyes shut. Prayed it would not be him because she needed some time to think. Time to accept that she'd gone down to the newspaper office to stand up for Jordan because she loved
him.

She swall
owed.

Yes. She was crazy, heart over head in love with a man she had no business lo
ving.

A knock on the door had her peering through the curt
ains.

Of course it was
him.

“Go away,” she shouted. “There's nobody h
ome.”

“Open the door, L
ucy.”

“Lucy's not h
ere.”

“Open the door or I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blow your door down. I'm not leaving until I see your f
ace.”

“It looks the same as an hour
ago.”

“Open. The. D
oor.”

She sighed. Went to the door. Opened it a fraction and stuck her face in the opening. “Satisfied?” When she went to close the door he stuck his foot in the
way.

She sighed again and backed up to allow the inevitable. As expected, Jordan pushed his way in
side.

“I know what you're doing.” Eyes sharp and focused, he advanced toward her and forced her to back up into the living
room.

Ziggy barked a welcome and Jordan briefly reached down to pet her dog on the head. Kindness in a heated moment. Moments like that totally melted her h
eart.

“What is it you
think
I'm doing?” Besides hiding like a coward from the plethora of feelings she'd developed for
him.

“You're trying not to care because you think it will keep you safe,” he said. “But you walking into that newspaper office and taking on the person who printed that article? You were thinking more of me and my family than you were thinking of yours
elf.”

Emotionally drained, she shrugged like it didn't ma
tter.

“You care, L
ucy.”

“So sue me.” Her chin tilted in a show of defi
ance.

“Oooh.” A grin flashed across his face. “I like it when you're fei
sty.”

“I'm too exhausted to be fei
sty.”

“Really?” The tilt of his head told her he didn't believe her. “So you're too exhausted to fight if I do this?” He pulled her into his
arms.

She gave a feeble attempt to push him away, but it felt so good to be in his arms she caved in a b
link.

Silly weak w
oman.

“You can't walk away from this,” he
said.


This?
What's
this
? You overpowering
me?”

“Baby, you know I'd never do that.” He loosened his hold but didn't let her go. “I'm talking about whatever this is developing between
us.”

“Nothing's developing. You know we don't
fit.”

He pulled her in tighter to prove her w
rong.

“I'm not talking about body parts,” she
said.

“Neither a
m I.”

“Jordan. You live an exhilarating full-­steam-­ahead life. You know you'd get bored with me. You need to find someone more excit
ing.”

“What if I don't want anyone more excit
ing?”

Great. He agreed she was as dull as
rust.

“Sorry. That didn't come out right.” He tucked her head beneath his chin. “I need you, Lucy. I need your calm. Your patience. Your ability to cut through the bullshit and get right to the po
int.”

“A good therapist can do all t
hat.”

“See how quick you get to the point? I don't need a therapist. I need
you
. The woman who's wrapped up my heart and made me think of things that have never even crossed my mind bef
ore.”

She looked up at him, not exactly expecting to see humor on his handsome face, but certainly not expecting to see sincerity either. “What kind of thi
ngs?”

“Forever things.” His long fingers came up to smooth her hair away and cup her face between his h
ands.

Forever? She didn't dare let herself fall into that fan
tasy.

“Until now all I've ever thought about was hockey. The next game. The next win. But that's not all that occupies my thoughts now.” He lowered his head and kissed her so tenderly it brought tears to her eyes. “Don't walk away, Lucy. Don't throw away what's growing between us because you're scared or because you've judged me wrong. I know you're strong. Stronger than me in a lot of ways. All I ask is that you give us a cha
nce.”

She should sa
y no.

But when he pulled her tight against him and kissed her deep, wet, and bone-­melting hot, her hesitation, doubts, and fears evaporated like rain on a summer sidewalk. When he lifted her into his arms and carried her upstairs, she knew the word
no
wouldn't find its way into her dialogue. Because once he got started the only word she'd know would be
more
.

More.

More.

More.

Chapter 15

A
fter passing through the wedding taking place in the event center and the outdoor tent, Jordan felt more strongly than ever that they needed to introduce some fresh ideas into Sunshine Creek Vineyards. They had a gorgeous area surrounded by shade trees that they never used. If they constructed a stage on the grassy knoll, they could have outdoor concerts with wine and picnic supplies available to buy. With dark wood and heavy curtains, the inside of the event center was a bit dated. He felt sure there was a way to bring it back to life without costing them a fortune. Hell, he and Ryan could put in the sweat and labor themse
lves.

Tiered wine club memberships that included a concert series could provide them with enough revenue to push them far away from the financial red
zone.

Leaving the bride and groom to their wedding toast, he walked into the main house more determined than ever to do the right thing. Outside the sun shone high in the sky and he'd just spent several hours in bed with Lucy. There had been no pillow talk, just long, satisfied moans interspersed with laug
hter.

He didn't know how he'd missed it the first, second, or even third time, but during his afternoon explorations he'd discovered his sexy little schoolteacher had some ticklish spots. Though the one behind her knee intrigued him, it was the one at the very lowest area on her spine—­just above her sweet rounded bottom—­that tempted him the most. It had been the very spot he'd kissed just before he got out of bed and left her to finish her
nap.

Knowing he'd worn her out and left her with a smile on her face was like being given a piece of his favorite candy. Hell of a good way to spend a Saturday after
noon.

Inside his parents' home he found Aunt Pippy folding laundry on the kitchen table. Never in his life would he refer to his mother's sister as a domestic goddess. A lovable psychedelic outspoken wacko maybe. Lately she'd become a little secretive. He still hadn't figured that one
out.

“Well, fancy seeing you here in the middle of the day.” She snapped out a pair of women's bikini panties before folding them, and Jordan wanted to cover his eyes. He didn't know if they belonged to her or his sister and he didn't want to find
out.

“I've only got two days to get things worked out,” he said, turning his back when she snapped out another pair of women's under
wear.

“Exactly what are you working out?” A brown eyebrow that did not match her carrot top head li
fted.

“I need to talk to Nicki. Is she aro
und?”

“She woke up late. She's been up there playing that guitar you bought her. Hasn't eaten a darned thing all
day.”

“Mind if I grab some of those breakfast pastries to take up to
her?”

“Go ahead. You're lucky those brothers of yours left any of them. I think they were even putting them in their pock
ets.”

He didn't want to tell her that the powdered sugar circling her lips pointed the donut burglar finger at
her.

“I'll get a plate for
you.”

“Aunt Pippy? Is there something you know about the missing money you're not telling
us?”

“Me?” Her eyes widened like she'd seen a polka dot baboon. “Wha-­huh-­pffft.
No.”

“You sure? Because every time the subject comes up you hightail it out of the r
oom.”

“I'm a busy woman. I got things to do. Stuff to take care
of.”

Like what?
he wanted to
ask.

Yes, he and his brothers were fortunate she'd stepped in and agreed to live in the main house with Nicole for the time being. It was obvious by her suddenly trembling hands that the question made her nervous. Whatever it was, she just needed to tell them so they could fix it. If she had anything to do with it, they'd forgive her. She was fa
mily.

“Well, if you can think of anything you think we should know, you'll tell us, ri
ght?”

“Of course.” Her nervous laughter raised an even bigger question mark. “Well, I'd better get that plate. Your sister's probably starv
ing.”

A few minutes later, sugar-­laden plate in hand, Jordan knocked on Nicole's door and the strumming of the guitar stopped. He waited for the proverbial snotty teen response but to his surprise she opened the door and said, “
Hey.”

Thank God they'd moved on from “What the hell do you want?” Although with his luck, the reprieve was probably tempo
rary.

“I brought you breakf
ast.”

She smiled. “It's afternoon, you d
ork.”

He could hardly tell his sister that he had happily lost track of time between the sheets with Lucy today, so he shrugged. “There's never really a bad time to eat donuts, is th
ere?”

“No. But now I'll have to exercise.” She snatched one off the plate and bit into it. “Mmmmm. I love maple b
ars.”

“You sleep okay after we got home last ni
ght?”

“Why wouldn'
t I?”

“No reason. Just trying to look after you. How's the song coming al
ong?”

“I'm putting it in my reperto
ire.”

“You have a repertoire
now?”

“Yeah. For when I go to Nashvi
lle.”

“Nashville! What the hell are you talking ab
out?”

“My birthday is in a couple of months. So whether I graduate or not, I'm packing up my stuff and heading to Music City. You can hardly start a country music career h
ere.”

“Whoa. Whoa. Whoa.” He put his hands up. “Let's back this train up for a sec
ond.”

“You're not talking me out of it.” She sat on her bed and pulled the guitar onto her lap. “Besides, what do you care? I heard you guys talking this morning. Apparently I'm a giant pain in the ass you feel someone needs to babysit. This way you won't have to wo
rry.”

“Are you shitting me?” Panic raced inside his chest. “You take off to a city you've never been to, all alone, and I'll worry even m
ore.”


You
took off at eight
een.”

“I was drafted by the NHL when I was eighteen. Big differe
nce.”

“Maybe to you. Besides . . .” She smirked. “I never said I was going there al
one.”

“What?” His head whipped around so fast his neck cra
cked.

“A friend is going with
me.”

God, now he was getting a freaking cramp in his brain. “Does this
friend
happen to be a
boy?”

“Does it mat
ter?”

“Hell yes it matters.” He sat down on the bed next to
her.

Now he knew how fathers of stubborn, wild teenage girls felt. And he had a feeling that talking sense into her was going to be like catching a fish bareha
nded.

“Picking up and moving away without a plan, or money, or a job is crazy,” he said. “Doing all that with a guy who has expectations makes it wo
rse.”

“Who said I don't have a plan or mo
ney?”

“You don't think Taylor Swift made it big the minute she rolled into town, do you? She had parents to take care of her needs. Who's going to take care of yours? Where are you going to live? How are you going to pay rent? Buy f
ood?”

Holy shit. He sounded like an old
fart.

“I'm going to play in bars until I get discove
red.”

“You're not even old enough to go into a bar. And I wouldn't count on that instantly getting discovered thing. It's not easy to make it in the music industry. There are people who've been playing those bars for years and have barely made enough to buy a McDonald's hambur
ger.”

“How do you know? You've never been in the music indus
try.”

“No, but I dated an award-­winning country singer at one time. Gave me a little insight to the busin
ess.”

“You dated a country singer?” Her eyes popped open wide. “
Who?”

“I'm not tell
ing.”

“Come on. No secr
ets.”

He laughed. “Look who's talk
ing.”

“Well, if you won't tell me who she is, tell me what color hair she
has.”

“Bl
ond.”

“Carrie Underw
ood?”

“Little sister, do you really think someone like Carrie Underwood would ever date someone like
me?”

“She married a hockey pla
yer.”

“Yeah, but he's a nice hockey player. I'm m
ean.”

She giggled, and the sound rippled through him like a happy wave. “You do like to spend a lot of time in the penalty
box.”

“And
you
”—­he bumped her with his shoulder—­“like to try and change the subj
ect.”

She dropped her head and nodded. “I just don't want to argue anymore. You've been . . . really nice to me. And I'm pretty sure I don't deserve
it.”

“Listen.” Taking a chance she wouldn't retreat, he wrapped his arm around her. “The teen years are hard enough without suffering the loss of your parents. I'm barely dealing with it, so I don't have a clue how you're coping. Everyone grieves in their own way. There's no time li
mit.”

“Jordan?” When she looked up there were tears in her pretty blue eyes. “That's not why I've been so angry. Losing our parents makes me unbelievably sad. But it's .
 . .”

“Go ahead.” He gave her a side hug. “You can tell me. I won't judge. I prom
ise.”

A heavy sigh pushed from her lungs. “It's because of what I said to Dad just before they left for Haw
aii.”

“Did you have a teenage meltd
own?”

“No. I had an I'm-­tired-­of-­being-­ignored meltd
own.”

“Ignored?” From over three thousand miles away, he'd thought Nicki was probably being spoiled and growing up like a little prin
cess.

She dropped her face into her hands and sobbed. He pulled her into a full hug and just let her cry it out. She wiped her nose on his shirt and he didn't even care. He wanted to know what was wrong. He wanted to help. At the moment he just wasn't sure
how.

When the tears started to subside, he left her long enough to grab the box of tissues from her dresser. She pulled out a half dozen and tried to mop up the da
mage.

“S-­sorry about your shirt.” She hiccu
pped.

“I don't care about the shirt, baby girl. I just care about you. Please tell me what's going on. I can't help if you do
n't.”

“You can't help anyway.” She sniffed, then decided to blow her nose. “I got tired of Dad always having something else to do when it involved me. He'd practically run out of a room when I'd walk
in.”

“Nicki. That can't be true. He loved
you.”

“I don't think he did.” Her face crumpled and the tears started to flow again. “I'm not even sure I'm really your sis
ter.”

“What?” Where the hell had she gotten that idea? “Of course you are. You look just like the rest of us except prett
ier.”

She shrugged. “I finally asked Dad why he ignored me. I hoped—­like Mom—­he'd tell me I was imagining things and give me a hug to make me feel better. But he didn't. Instead he admitted that something in his past had affected him negatively where I was concerned. And that while he didn't blame me, he just didn't know if he could ever move past it to be the kind of father I wan
ted.”

What the
fuck?

Everything was starting to crumble and Jordan felt a cold chill slice up his back. He'd always thought his parents were perfect and that they had the perfect marriage. But now 
. . .

“I don't know what he meant,” his sister said. “Now he's gone and I'll never find
out.”

“Nobody else knows about this conversat
ion?”

She shook her head. “I wanted to tell Ryan but he's so busy and he's got to take care of Riley all on his own. I didn't want to burden him with my probl
ems.”

“Why didn't you ask
Mom?”

“There wasn't t
ime.”

“God, Nicki, I don't know what to say.” He gathered her up in a hug and she finally hugged him back. “But we'll figure this out, o
kay?”

She nodded. “What did you come in here to tell me before we got sidetrac
ked?”

Do the right t
hing.

Jordan took a deep breath. “Don't worry about anything, Nicki. We're going to get this all worked out. I've made a decision and family comes fi
rst.”

T
he nap Lucy had taken earlier revived her so that now when she should be thinking of going to bed she was wide awake. Waking alone had been both disappointing and a blessing. There was nothing she loved more than looking at Jordan's sleek, toned muscles when he was naked. She loved the heat that radiated from his body. His always clean, masculine scent. And the feel of his soft hair beneath her fingers. But the discussion they'd had just before he'd hauled her off to the bedroom had been uncomfort
able.

BOOK: A Better Man
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