A Better Man(6)

"I'm in." He shot a glare around the room before they scoffed. "It's what Mom and Dad would have wanted. All of us together. Working to save what they labored so hard to build. It's not fair for Ryan to try and do this all on his own. He's a single dad with a little girl to raise."

Yes, he'd been the worst about putting family first. Hell, he'd never put anyone but himself in that top position.

Right now his team was headed toward the playoffs without him. He'd never let his team down before. He'd worked his ass off for years to win the Cup. But he was thirty-­three years old and for most of his life, it had been all about him. All about hockey. All about what he wanted, he needed, and he desired. He didn't even know the other side of the coin. He didn't know how to give unless there were skates on his feet and a stick in his hand. He had a contract, and the team owner and Coach Reiner expected him to return any day. The team expected him back with his head in game-­winning condition. But right now all he wanted was to grieve his parents and reconnect with the people in this room.



       
         
       
        

"I'm in a hundred percent," he confirmed.

"We appreciate the sentiment, Jordy. And no offense, but your team is racking up the wins and it looks like they're headed to the playoffs." Ryan shrugged. "How can you be in with a schedule like that?"

Declan, Ethan, and Parker all shot him looks of doubt. Aunt Pippy sighed. Nicole glared. The attorney suddenly found the papers in his hand fascinating.

"I'll work it out."

Getting back in his family's good graces was all that mattered. Right now he couldn't pinpoint the moment or exact reason he'd backed off. Hopefully he'd have plenty of time to figure it out and correct the error of his ways.

He clasped his hands together, dropped them between his knees, and looked his wary family in the eye. "All I need is a chance."

When the drizzling rain stopped, Jordan stepped outside onto the large stone deck lined with potted plants and trailing flowers that overlooked the acres of sprouting grapevines. Once the fruit ripened they'd create the flavorful white and rich red wines his father had designed.

As a young man, Jordan hadn't been the least bit interested in how the wines were made. Yet his father had insisted that Jordan see and understand the things his grandfather had created. To know the hard work that had been put into the beginnings of something meant for generations of their family to appreciate.

Jordan realized now what his father had been trying to tell him. To teach him. And he'd let the importance slip away.

Never again.

Around him the vibrant green rolling hills merged with the meandering creek in a tranquil scene that brought a calm to his soul. When this place had belonged to his grandfather it had been modest. Nothing fancy. More like hippieville than a real business.

Jordan breathed in the fresh, rain-­scented air, surprised when memories sprang up and a sting of misplaced jealousy stabbed through him.

Before he could dwell on it, the French doors opened and Ryan stepped out onto the patio carrying two glasses of wine. He set them on a nearby table and grabbed Jordan in a bear hug.

"Damn, it's good to have you home."

Immense pleasure from his brother's powerful embrace surrounded Jordan like a warm security blanket.

"It's good to be home."

"Those brothers of ours can't play hoops worth a shit. At least while you're here tell me we'll play a game or two and wipe the court with them." 

"Done."

The backslapping ended and Ryan picked up the glasses. "Try this." He handed Jordan a glass of deep red wine.

"What is it?"

"Euphoria. The Cabernet Syrah Dad's been working on perfecting over the last couple of years."

Jordan's throat tightened as he held the glass up to the light. Swirled, sniffed, then sipped. "Nice notes of vanilla and chocolate."

"Yeah. It's almost there." Ryan drank from his own glass. "Still had too much of a peppery taste for Dad's liking."

"I'm sure you'll get it figured out." Jordan looked out over the property again and that sting of misplaced jealousy struck again. "Do you remember when we used to spend summer vacations here?"

"Yeah." Ryan chuckled. "I figure we climbed about half of these trees."

"At least." Jordan sipped the wine. "I remember hiking through the forest, wading through the creek, and pretending we were worldly explorers."

"Bunch of dumb kids is what we were." Ryan turned and leaned back against the stone fence. "You remember that rickety wire net we begged Grandpa to nail up to the side of the old barn so we could play hoops?"