A Better Man(69)

"I am?"

Lucy nodded.

"Everyone else just tells me I'm pretty."

"Well . . ." Lucy chuckled. "You're that too. But you're so much more. Don't ever judge yourself or let others judge you solely based on your looks, Nicole. You should judge yourself on your heart, your integrity, and your willingness to step outside the box others want to paint you in, so you can just be you."

"Is that what you've learned?"

"I learned a long time ago that I'm not the Miss America type, but I'm smart and I have talents maybe not a lot of other people have and I'm totally okay with that."

"What kind of talents?"

"Well . . . I can tie a cherry stem with my tongue. I can write love stories. I can even start and finish the entire book I've written without editing chapter one a hundred times. I can do a triple back flip that would make most cheerleaders green with envy. And I can make treasure out of trash I find at flea markets."

Nicole smiled. Then she did the unexpected. She melted into Lucy's embrace and returned the hug.





Chapter 12


After 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 endurance.

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 flight.

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 afterward.

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 level.

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 changing.

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 chance.

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 sweats.

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.

Lucy 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 reaction.

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 else?"

"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 trouble."