A Better Man (22 page)

Chapter 12

A
fter Jordan's practice, Lucy and Nicole took his Range Rover and went in search of dinner while he soaked away the aches from the hard hits he took on the ice. It surprised him how much he'd gotten out of shape in just two weeks. But other than the nights he'd gone to the gym, he'd spent no time doing the exercises he normally did that kept him in top condition. Not that he'd gone soft by any means, but the hard charging he did on the ice for the duration of a game necessitated a certain type of endur
ance.

While the jets pounded his tense muscles, he laid his head back, closed his eyes, and wasn't at all surprised when a vision of Lucy—­naked—­flashed in his mind. He hadn't actually seen her without her clothes, but he'd seen enough of her for his imagination to take fl
ight.

He wanted
her.

The question was, would she want
him?

Seabrook had been right when he'd said Jordan had never needed to work hard to get a woman's attention. Call it what you wanted; he'd been lucky and blessed with the family's looks. But while looks might draw women in, a little finesse was required after
ward.

Over the years, he'd learned how to treat a woman right. He'd also learned how to keep an emotional distance. He'd never had the time or need for someone on a more permanent l
evel.

He felt that need
now.

Whatever walls he'd put up, whatever bullshit line he'd told himself that he didn't need anybody, everything was quickly chan
ging.

He'd never had a hard time reading a woman, but with Lucy it was different. Lucy had a tender heart, but in her past she was a woman who'd been badly mistreated. She'd found the strength to overcome her situation, to rebuild her life. And though she was a strong woman, he didn't want to do anything to break the trust he'd hopefully gained. She was a complicated puzzle he was trying to put together one piece at a
time.

All he needed—­wanted—­was the ch
ance.

Through the closed bathroom door he heard the chatter of female voices. Lucy and Nicki were back. Anxious to join them, he turned off the jets, dried off, and threw on a pair of sw
eats.

The moment he walked into the kitchen the chatter stopped. While Lucy pulled items out of a grocery bag and set them on the counter, Nicole pasted on her usual glare. When Lucy's question to Nicki was met with silence, she turned around. Her gaze skimmed past his sister. When it reached him, it came to a screeching
halt.

L
ucy didn't often get to view perfection. Seeing Jordan wearing only a pair of sweatpants, a tribal tattoo that spread over his shoulder, and a few drops of water slowly sliding down the center of his immense chest and tightly rippled stomach, was better than anything she would ever see at a fine art gallery. The sweatpants hung low on his narrow hips. He'd slicked his wet hair back and a day's worth of stubble covered his square jawline. Lucy barely held back a sigh. She hoped he wouldn't put on the T-­shirt he held in his
hand.

“What did you guys come up with for dinner?” A genuine smile flashed to his sister and then
her.

Like the pasta she held in her hand, Lucy felt noodly all over. Like she'd been hit with a hot dose of testosterone that melted all the bones in her body. A new reaction for
her.

A good reac
tion.

One she wouldn't mind having over and
over.

She held up the bag of whole-­wheat penne. “I thought I'd make one of my favorite pasta dishes with fresh tomatoes and zucchini, and a romaine side salad with avocado and caramelized pineapple. Unless you'd like something e
lse?”

“That sounds great. But I thought you were just going to grab pizza or something.” He slipped the blue cotton shirt over his head, then tugged the bottom into place. “I don't want you to go to all the trou
ble.”

“It's no trouble. And since I usually just cook for myself, it will be nice to feed someone else. Plus Nicole has offered to h
elp.”

Jordan's surprised gaze shifted to his sister. “That's great, Ni
cki.”

She gave him a shrug with attitude. “It's no big d
eal.”

“It is to
me.”

When he hugged Nicole, Lucy could see the girl's uncertainty whether to hug him back or not. At least she was thinking abou
t it.

A step in the right direc
tion.

Ziggy danced at Lucy's feet and she laughed. “Yes, I got you some treats
too.”

“Can I give one to him?” Nicole a
sked.

“Sure. They're in the bag over th
ere.”

Nicole's beautiful face came to life as she dangled the Beggin' Strip and Ziggy showed off his tr
icks.

“Have you ever had a pet?” Lucy a
sked.

“No.” Nicole's smile turned to a frown. “My father was allergic and my mother didn't want animal hair all over her furniture. Which is stupid because we've always had leather furniture and you can just wipe it
off.”

“Nicki,” Jordan said in a warning tone. “Be careful what you say about Mom. She isn't here to defend hers
elf.”

“I know that,” Nicole sna
pped.

Uh-­oh. Lucy sensed their nice moment was about to head s
outh.

“Can you come wash the lettuce?” she asked Nicole as a deter
rent.

“Sure.” And the dark cloud was back in p
lace.

For several minutes they all worked together in the kitchen in silence. Uncomfortable to say the least. Lucy realized that not only was it her job to keep an eye on Nicole and try to help figure out the problem, but she also needed to be the Band-­Aid between brother and si
ster.

“Do you have a stereo?” she asked Jo
rdan.

“Just the music channels on the TV. You can listen to just about anything you want th
ere.”

“How about you put on some music while we get dinner together. It might . . . lighten the m
ood.”

As soon as Jordan disappeared into the living room and the music came on, Lucy leaned in and whispered to his sister. “Talk, Nicole. Barking is for d
ogs.”

When Nicole looked up, she smiled. “So you're saying I do a bad impression of a Rottwei
ler?”

“Sweetie, you aren't even a good Schnau
zer.”

When Nicole laughed, it lifted Lucy's heart and she kept her fingers crossed for a more peaceable eve
ning.

An oldies station came on and Jordan came back into the kitchen looking doubtful. “Is that o
kay?”

“I love old Beatles stuff,” Nicole said while she tore the romaine lettuce and dumped it into a bowl Lucy had found in the cupb
oard.

“So do I.” Jordan moved up to the counter between Lucy and his sister and began slicing the tomatoes. “Do you like country mu
sic?”

“It's my favorite.” Nicole grabbed a knife to slice the zucc
hini.

“I thought kids your age just liked rap and hip-­
hop.”

“My friends do. But I like music with a softer rhythm and a meaningful st
ory.”

Jordan nodded while the Beatles sang about strawberry fi
elds.

“I'll bet you didn't even know I play guitar,” Nicole said. “Or write mu
sic.”

Both Lucy and Jordan stopped what they were doing, looked at each other, then looked back at Ni
cole.

“Nope.” Nicole sighed. “I didn't figure you
did.”

“That's amazing, Nic. When did you start doing t
hat?”

“About two years ago. I bought an old pink guitar I found at a thrift shop as a decoration for my room.” Her slim shoulders came up in a shrug. “One night I was bored and just started goofing around with it and I got interes
ted.”

Jordan slanted a glance at Lucy that made her heart stand still. He'd just discovered more information about his sister in one minute than he probably had in seventeen y
ears.

“I'd love to hear your music some time,” Lucy
said.

“I'd love to hear it right now,” Jordan
said.

“I didn't bring the guitar with
me.”

“But you'd play it for us if you had
it?”

“S
ure.”

“Then let's go.” He grabbed his sister by the hand. “Lucy? Do you have this under control until we get b
ack?”

Lucy smiled at the exhilaration on his face and no
dded.

“Where are we going?” Nicole asked as he grabbed their jackets off the hook by the
door.

“There's a music store a couple blocks away. I want to get there before they cl
ose.”

“
Why?”

“Because I'm buying you a gui
tar.”

When the door shut behind them, Lucy leaned back against the counter and wanted to cry. Jordan had seen the opportunity to become a part of his sister's life. He'd found a connection. And he'd seized the opportunity to make things right. Just like he'd done on the ice t
oday.

Only in a much softer ver
sion.

H
ours later, Jordan sat beside Lucy on the sofa listening to his sister play her guitar from down the hall. She had God-­given talent. Best of all, she'd been forced to talk to him while they'd been at the music store, where she'd picked up several acoustic guitars and strummed until she found a Gibson Hummingbird that had felt right. When he'd started to take it to the cashier to pay for it she'd tried to stop
him.

“You can't buy that,” she'd insisted. “It costs two thousand doll
ars.”

He halted in the middle of the store. “Do you like
it?”

“
Yes.”

“Will it make you ha
ppy?”

She'd hesitated and looked away to where a separate room housed numerous drum sets. “I don't want you to buy me anyth
ing.”

“Why
not?”

She'd shru
gged.

“Because you think you'll owe me someth
ing?”

Another shrug lifted her shoul
ders.

He'd taken her by those slim shoulders and made her look at him. Blue eyes exactly like his own had stared back at him, verifying the reason he wanted to
help.

“You will owe me nothing, Nicki. I'm not buying it for you because I want something to hold over you. You're my little sister. I love you. I want to see you happy. And if somehow this guitar will make you smile, then it's worth every penny. Come
on.”

When he'd tucked his hand beneath her elbow and guided her to the cashier, he'd sworn he could hear her heart poun
ding.

After he'd paid for the instrument and handed her the black carrying case, she gave him the first real smile he'd seen since he'd come back
home.

His heart me
lted.

When they'd come back to his apartment it smelled amazing from the pasta Lucy had made. They'd all sat at the dining table and actually had a conversation while they ate Lucy's delicious meal. Jordan figured buying the guitar had probably only given him a one-­night reprieve from the baby dragon's temper. But he'd take what he could get. Because for the first time, with Lucy and Nicki there, his apartment felt like a
home.

Now, as he sat next to Lucy on the sofa, listening to Nicole play something that sounded like a soulful Miranda Lambert song, he sighed and reached for Lucy's hand. “She's really g
ood.”

“
Really
good.” Lucy nodded. “Who k
new?”

“Not me, that's for damn sure. Nobody—­not even my mom or dad—­ever mentioned that she pla
yed.”

“Some of her song lyrics are just breathtaking. I wish she'd have turned those in for an assignment instead of a review for
Pretty Little Li
ars
.”

He chuckled. “Me
too.”

“When we talked today she didn't mention anything about writing so
ngs.”

Jordan turned to look at her, noticing—­not for the first time—­just how beautiful she was without a stitch of makeup. Earlier when she'd taken her shower, she came back into the living room sans makeup, hair pulled up into a mess of silky curls piled up at the top of her head, and smelling like fresh peaches. Somehow he'd managed to keep his hands to himself when all he'd wanted to do was bury his face in her neck and take a bite. He'd wanted other things too but he was still trying to take things
slow.

Hardest damn thing he'd ever
done.

“You talked today?” he a
sked.

Lucy no
dded.

“Ab
out?”

“How strangely excited she got when you decked that
guy.”

“Oh. So
rry.”

“Don't be,” she said. “I was thrilled that she let her emotions rule and that she appeared to want to protect
you.”

“I hate to admit it but I was damn proud of that.” His heart gave a crazy little thump at the memory. “What else did you talk ab
out?”