A Better Man(30)

She sighed, and he realized that for the most part, the females in his life seemed to constantly be frustrated with him.

"Curiosity begs to know all of the above," she said.

Before she could close the door on him, he made the quickest, most ridiculous, and most desperate move of all time. He stuck his foot in the door. "I have something really important to tell you. And Google."

"People were so much safer before the age of the Internet." She shook her head. "And this 'something really important' is . . . ?"

"You're trying not to smile." He pointed at her luscious lips. "I can tell."

"Yes, well, we all have our moments."

"Mind if I come in?"

"It's late. This can't wait until tomorrow?"

"Yes, it's late. Yes, I shouldn't have just appeared on your doorstep. Yes, you should slam the door in my face." He took a breath. "But I hope you won't."

At that moment the gods of mercy took pity on him when a golden retriever ambled to the door. Jordan grabbed the opportunity.

"Hey. Nice dog." He moved past Lucy into the house, where the dog swept his tail from side to side. Jordan leaned down and gave the dog a nice rub over the top of his large head. "What's his name?"

"Ziggy. I'm thinking of getting a second dog." Lucy closed the front door. "Probably a German shepherd or something with sharp teeth and a lot of bite."

Jordan looked up. "Wouldn't do you any good where I'm concerned. Dogs love me." He continued to pet the dog, who now wore a goofy doggy grin.

"Apparently." She crossed her arms. "And I don't remember inviting you in."

"Oops." He gave her a sheepish look.

"Word to the wise, that look doesn't work for you."

"I gave it my best effort."

"You might try to be more convincing."



       
         
       
        

He grinned. "If you let me stay, I promise I'll work on it."

"Please don't trouble yourself on my behalf. I try not to put myself in the gullible category."

"Teasing, Lucy? That's so unlike you."

"You don't know the half of it. And if you'll excuse me I have to go upstairs to get my twelve-­gauge." She started toward the stairs and then turned back around to face him. The hint of a smile playing at her lips sent a tickle through his heart. "Don't steal anything while I'm gone."

That smile convinced him she wasn't all that mad he'd popped up on her doorstep.

"No worries. I left my cat burglar bag at home," he said.

When Lucy disappeared up the stairs, her dog flopped down at his feet. Jordan took the opportunity to check out the nearly all white living space. Small pops of color came in the form of pale blue, pink, and yellow and made him feel like he'd stepped inside an Easter egg. The good news was that the ultra feminine décor told him a man didn't live here. He hadn't been one hundred percent sure before. He was now. Any man worth his weight in testosterone would destroy a place this immaculate within minutes.

He had to laugh because everything he'd bought for his own apartment either came in leather so it could be wiped down, or in some kind of dark fabric that didn't show the dirt. When the boys decided to come over for a night of poker he didn't need to worry about the mess they'd leave behind.

Yes, he had a housekeeper who took care of the cleaning and stocking his refrigerator. But when he'd brought in a local designer to make the place livable, he'd requested the place be a typical guy's paradise-­big TV, ear-­splitting surround sound, and plenty of beer in the fridge.

Lucy's cozy house felt like a home.

Minutes later when she came back downstairs she'd covered up with a fuzzy white robe she'd probably put on for protection against his wandering eyes. Too bad her efforts came a little too late. He had a great imagination. And because he'd already seen her in the skimpy top, all he could picture was what was under that robe and how he'd like to peel it off.

As a teen back in high school he'd liked Lucy. Enjoyed her company. Appreciated the way her mind worked. But he'd never looked at her like he wanted to strip her down and mess her up.

But he sure was looking now.

Nothing seemed crazier than Jordan Kincade standing in the middle of her living room looking both incredibly out of place and amazingly hot in jeans that fit like a lover's hand, a snug black T-­shirt, and his black leather jacket. Wickedness dripped off him like tempting dark chocolate. 

For the past few years Lucy had tried to put away those kinds of feelings toward the opposite sex. She'd been fooled once by a pretty boy exterior; she didn't need a second go-­round.