A Better Man (8 page)

She should have forgiven him even without an apology. She knew how teenagers were. Most didn't think about anything except what happened in their own little world. But when she'd found out the real reason he'd left her waiting that night, she couldn't stop the
hurt.

Yes, she knew how the popular crowd Jordan had belonged to thought of her back then. She'd never be one of them. She wouldn't want to. She accepted who she was, and she was perfectly okay with the fact that it wasn't her lot to be glamorous or live a glamorous
life.

After her marriage ended she'd had to learn to like herself again. To trust herself and her instincts. She'd always depended on being smart, yet it had totally let her down when she'd needed it most. Trusting herself and her instincts didn't come easy. Which was only one reason why she wondered how she'd proceed with this project to salvage Nicole Kincade's education and find out what was bothering the girl, when Lucy knew she might very well be distracted by Jo
rdan.

Where he was concerned her instincts jumped up and down and waved a red flag. How could she go one-­on-­one, face-­to-­face with him in a matter that might take days, weeks, or even months? She didn't know if she had the kind of moxie she'd need to deal with him. Yes, she'd been strong enough to pull herself from the depths of hell once. But this was diffe
rent.

Jordan Kincade was a different kind of tro
uble.

Call her shallow, but when confronted with a man who looked like a dark, sexy, sinful fallen angel, she couldn't stop her fantasies from taking flight. She imagined he'd fill a woman's head with pretty words, then touch her body with skillful h
ands.

She'd never known a man like
that.

No one could deny he was good-­looking. And probably more than a little self-­centered. Not that she'd cyberstalked him, but in the photos she'd seen posted in celebrity news or sports Web sites he'd never downplayed his wild behavior. With a different voluptuous female on his arm in almost every shot, his expressive eyes and wide grin flaunted the fact that he devoured every single moment of his fortune and fame like a fine wine. Those he'd left back in the little town of Sunshine hadn't stood a ch
ance.

Jordan was a dangerous man. He lived a dangerous life. Played a vicious and dangerous game. Even more hazardous was the charm he turned on like tap water. It oozed from every pore and had probably lured more than one woman to heartbreak and disappointment. But Lucy knew she had to suck it up and tighten the waistband on her big girl panties in order to help Nicole. She'd have to be careful around the man. Never let her guard down. She'd played with the devil before and lost. She was proud to have survived the ordeal and come out wiser. But that didn't mean she'd willingly put herself back in the devil's
path.

True, Jordan had apologized for something he'd done fifteen years ago. Her ex had
never
apologized. And he'd had a million reasons why he should have. The difference between the two was that Jordan at least had a conscience. Her ex had
not.

After one more gigantic bite of ice cream, Lucy put the top back on the container. She fed Ziggy his supposedly flatulence-­reducing kibble and went upstairs to change into something more comfortable. Her agenda for the rest of the night was to figure out a way to help Nicole with the least amount of exposure to the troubled girl's sexy big bro
ther.

A
s Jordan turned the SUV onto the winding gravel road that led to his family vineyards, the sun sat low in the western sky. Beams of orange and gold shot out from its core while the puffy white clouds turned a picturesque
pink.

Relief flowed through his veins that Lucy was onboard to help him with Nicole. Between the two of them they should be able to get things figured out and get his sister back on t
rack.

That was if he could keep from being distracted by
Lucy.

Tonight he still had business to handle. And for this mission he probably needed fireproof gl
oves.

Though the hand-­painted Sunshine Creek Vineyards sign in front of the big stone pillars and iron gate had faded, the rows of grapevines on either side of the road made for an impressive entry. Once the vines turned a vibrant green and became laden with deep purple or golden fruit, the vineyard would look like a showplace. Unless you dug a little deeper, it was easy to miss the dated appearance of the buildings that dotted the prop
erty.

Before the funeral, he'd barely noticed, because he'd been too overwhelmed with shock and grief. Now it seemed like all he could see were the flaws. The condition of the place surprised him. He knew his father and Ryan had been working hard to develop new blends of wine for a more competitive brand. Maybe that's where all their focus had gone instead of on the bed-­and-­breakfast or the event ce
nter.

In recent years, his father had commented that the wine business in Washington State had exploded. Properties that were once open wilderness and rolling hills had been sold off to those who'd learned that their winemaking hobby could be profitable. Plus the lifestyle in the area had become very desirable. Other than a domestic call here and there or a group of beer-­drinking teens causing a little trouble down at the river, Sunshine had virtually no c
rime.

The brochures set up in the tourist information center at the edge of town boasted the area to be a great place to raise wine and kids. But as Jordan turned the SUV up the winding road to the main house on the hill, he realized their corner of paradise needed some TLC. The big question for him was, why hadn't anyone else noticed? Surely his mother could have seen the deterioration. Why wouldn't she have done something about it, or at least said somet
hing?

He parked in the driveway, then, feeling like a guest instead of a family member, he knocked on the front door of the large two-­story home. Footsteps could be heard on the hardwood floor from inside before the door swung
open.

The amber light above Aunt Pippy's head intensified the fireball glow of her hair. Today's outfit was a yellow and orange mini dress with a wide white vinyl belt that buckled at her hips. Earrings that looked like melon balls topped with Shriners' fez hats swung from her ears. White vinyl ankle boots finished off the look that might have been better suited for
American Bandstand
in the 1960s than a home in a conventional wine
town.

“Jordy!” Aunt Pippy's eyes, under bright blue eye shadow, popped wide with her surprise. “What are you doing knocking on the d
oor?”

Good question. He should feel free to come and go in the house as he ple
ased.

He di
dn't.

And that was his own damn f
ault.

“Is Nicole h
ome?”

“She sure is.” She waved him inside, where the aroma of spaghetti sauce tickled his nose and made his stomach growl. “She's in the kitchen helping Riley with a school proj
ect.”

“That's a good s
ign.”

“Oh, sweetums.” She patted his arm. “Don't get too excited. It's a third-­grade diorama. Come on in. We were just about to eat. You can join
us.”

He glanced around the living room that now seemed cold. The eerie absence of his parents balled his stomach up in knots. “Where's R
yan?”

“Working late. He's got Declan locked up in the office with him. I think they're going over the financial repo
rts.”

Sounded like a ton of
fun.

“You doing okay?” he asked her. After all, she'd lost her sister, and everything had to be as hard on her as it was on the rest of
them.

“Just trying to get through one day at a time. Your mom and I went through a whole lot of sister stuff together. Being the oldest I always thought I'd go first.” Her chest lifted with a long stuttered sigh. “Guess you just never k
now.”

“I'm so sorry.” He drew his aunt into his arms. “And I apologize. It's easy to get wrapped up in your own grief and forget that others are suffering
too.”

She patted his back and leaned her head against his shoulder. In that moment he didn't care if her makeup smeared all over his shirt, all he wanted to do was offer com
fort.

“Jordy? You can't walk around your whole life apologizing for everything. At some point in time you just have to get on with getting on. We're all here for each other and we'll need each other in the coming days, weeks, and months. Don't forget that.” She looked up, stroked his cheek with her long orange fingernails. “You're home now. And if you need to leave,
I
know you'll come back. When you do, we'll all be here for
you.”

“I appreciate that, Aunt Pippy. But I'm not planning on going anywh
ere.”

“Never say never. Some things in life you learn quick. Some things you learn slow. Doesn't matter how long it takes, just that you're open to interpretation. As this great loss just taught us all, make sure you always grab hold of life with both hands and hang on ti
ght.”

“I'll
try.”

“I know you will.” She patted his cheek. “Now how about some of that spaghetti before it gets all gummy? The rest of the boys went into town for dinner. Seems they weren't too keen on the idea of chicken going into the spaghetti. Parker especially had a problem. Told me I was breaking the ru
les.”

“Everyone knows I don't follow the rules so chicken spaghetti sounds great to me. If you can spare a bowl I'm game.” Jordan had never pictured his aunt as a domestic goddess. Hell, he didn't even know the woman could cook. All she'd ever made him when he'd been growing up were peanut butter, jelly, and potato chip sandwi
ches.

“You're such a sweet
boy.”

“I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't say that in front of my broth
ers.”

“Wouldn't dream of it.” His aunt laughed. “Although seeing you boys all wrestling might be more fun than watching the distance that's grown between
you.”

The truth hit him like a wicked cross-­check. The reminder that he had a lot of work to do to make things up to his family stung. But he acknowledged it and intended to keep the promise he'd made as he followed his aunt toward the kitchen. The heartbreak that had stolen his breath moments ago moved aside for an onslaught of nerves. Spaghetti that clucked was nothing compared to the baby dragon that ro
ared.

The murmurings and giggles stopped as soon as he entered the room, and Nicki's head snapped up. The smile on her face dissolved into a s
cowl.

G
reat.

Looked like he was in for another fun eve
ning.

Yi
ppee.

“What are you girls up to?” He headed toward the long farm table where they sat, heads together, concentrating on the task at hand. Well, except for the why-­do-­you-­care? glare Nicki shot his
way.

“Hi, Uncle Jordy.” Riley's bright blue eyes sparkled as she smiled. “Nicki's helping me with my dior
ama.”

At least Riley knew his name. That was a start. He smiled as he leaned over their heads to get a better
look.

The shoebox had been covered in blue paper. On the front of the box a sign read “Ocean Habitat.” Inside, the girls had carefully positioned seashells and colored cutouts of fish and c
oral.

“That's pretty clever to hang the fish from the top with string,” he said. “It looks like they're swimm
ing.”

“That was Nicki's idea,” Riley said, scrunching up her little button nose. “She's a gen
ius.”

Nicki remained silent as she glued a tiger shark onto the st
ring.

“I think she's pretty smart too.” For that comment he received a scoff that came out sounding more like a snort. “In fact,” he said, “I think she's brilliant. Did you ever hear her story about Taffy Tick
les?”

Nicki's head came up so fast he heard her neck crack. Her eyes narrowed as she shot another death glare in his direc
tion.

Oh good. At least now he had her atten
tion.

“How do you know about that?” she a
sked.

“I read
it.”

Somehow she spoke through a clenched jaw. “Ms. Diamond isn't supposed to share students' work with anyone but a par
ent.”

Losing your parents when you were a thirty-­three-­year-­old adult was hard enough. Losing your parents when you were only seventeen and vulnerable to the world had to be ten times worse. Jordan settled his hand over Nicki's shoulder. “We don't have that luxury anymore,
sis.”

“Don't call me that.” Nicole jumped up and dashed from the
room.

Aunt Pippy and Riley gave him sympathetic puppy
eyes.

Wise beyond her years, Riley said, “Give her some time, Uncle Jordy. She's sad and she feels all alone. It took me a while after my mama left to figure things out, but I'm okay now. Nicki will be
too.”

A million emotions flooded Jordan's heart. With the exception of Ryan, he and his brothers liked to poke fun at the former Laura Kincade—­now Laura Landau—­toilet paper commercial queen. The one thing they often forgot was how Laura's abandoning her family for Hollywood affected little R
iley.