A Better Man(63)

Instead of arguing, she sniffed and nodded.

He shut the door, dropped his head back, closed his eyes, and prayed to whoever could help him out.

Forget a damn can of worms; he'd just opened up the gates to hell.

A typical Sunday morning for Lucy was to sleep in, make blueberry pancakes, and then take Ziggy for a walk down at the park by the river. He loved to catch a Frisbee, and her backyard was too small for him to be able to run far enough to make his huge running leaps.

This morning, however, was anything but typical.

Not only had she not slept in, she hadn't slept all night. She hadn't meant to unleash the demons of her past with Jordan, especially when he'd gone to so much trouble to set up such a wonderful evening. He hadn't needed to know all the trials and tribulations she'd been through. He hadn't needed to know that she'd allowed someone to treat her that way. Still, for some reason she'd opened up.

If you'd asked her two weeks ago if she'd ever trust Jordan Kincade enough to tell him her deepest, darkest secrets, she would have laughed. Amazing how things had changed in such a short time. While she'd told him-­in part-­of the emotional abuse, the torment, and the unforgivable way she'd been handled in a sexual sense, he'd held her tight, letting her have her say in a quiet, supportive manner she'd never expected.

By the time she'd finished telling him, the muscles in his jaw were clenched so tight she thought it would break. She understood most men didn't like to be dragged into a load of drama, so she'd made sure she delivered the information as matter-­of-­factly as she could, leaving her emotions at the door as much as possible. When she finished, he'd said, "I wish I could have been there to help you."

She wished he could have too.

At the time she'd wished anyone could have been there to help her. But it was a mess she'd gotten herself into and a mess she'd had to get out of on her own. Still, she appreciated his sentiment and understanding.

Of course, his consolation only made things worse on her conscience. He'd planned such an amazing evening and she'd ruined it all by spilling her guts. She wouldn't be surprised if he wished he could take back all the effort he put into the date. Even if that wasn't how he acted when he'd walked her to her front door and kissed her very gently on the lips.

Getting to know him proved one thing-­you could never judge a book by its cover. Or in this case, a hockey player.

Then again, time would tell.

Though he'd said he was interested in her, he could have only meant he was interested in the way an entomologist studied bugs.

She'd just folded fresh blueberries into the pancake batter when her doorbell rang. Wiping her hands on a kitchen towel, she figured Mrs. B had shown up early for their grocery-­shopping excursion. Unprepared for company in a pair of cutoff sweats, a ratty "Live Love Teach" T-­shirt, and slippers, she scuffed her way to the door anyway. The last thing she needed was to make the sweet, fragile woman wait on her doorstep.

Instead of her neighbor, Jordan stood at her door. How someone managed to look tired, frazzled, and yet still as handsome as ever in a dark blue Henley shirt, jeans, boots, and that oh-­so-­sexy black leather jacket was a mystery.



       
         
       
        

"Good morning." She tried to hide her surprise and dismay that he'd caught her looking less than presentable.

"Did I wake you?" His dark blue gaze shifted down and up her body as a suggestive smile tilted his lips.

"No. I was just making blueberry pancakes. Come on in, I have plenty to share."

Having heard Jordan's voice, Ziggy dashed into the room, tail wagging and looking for some affection from the new arrival. Jordan complied, bending at the knees and giving her dog a rubdown before he followed her into the kitchen. The retriever rewarded him with an audible toot.

"Dude." Jordan chuckled.

Ziggy wagged his tail.

Her dog's habit could be embarrassing. Still, it must be nice not to give a rip when you had to let one rip.

"I'm surprised to see you up and about so early. Coffee?" When Lucy turned to get his response he was sitting at her little kitchen table looking dazed and confused. "Are you okay?"

He nodded and then shook his head. "I need to ask you a favor. And I know you don't owe me anything but . . . I need you to tell me yes."

She laughed before realizing he was serious. "That sounds dangerous."

"You're going to think I'm crazy. Hell, I think I'm crazy. But I'm going to ask anyway."

"Well, now I'm really curious." She leaned her backside against the counter and folded her arms, hoping to hide some of the T-­shirt stains.