A Better Man(92)

"She married a hockey player."

"Yeah, but he's a nice hockey player. I'm mean."

She giggled, and the sound rippled through him like a happy wave. "You do like to spend a lot of time in the penalty box."

"And you"-­he bumped her with his shoulder-­"like to try and change the subject." 

She dropped her head and nodded. "I just don't want to argue anymore. You've been . . . really nice to me. And I'm pretty sure I don't deserve it."

"Listen." Taking a chance she wouldn't retreat, he wrapped his arm around her. "The teen years are hard enough without suffering the loss of your parents. I'm barely dealing with it, so I don't have a clue how you're coping. Everyone grieves in their own way. There's no time limit."

"Jordan?" When she looked up there were tears in her pretty blue eyes. "That's not why I've been so angry. Losing our parents makes me unbelievably sad. But it's . . ."

"Go ahead." He gave her a side hug. "You can tell me. I won't judge. I promise."

A heavy sigh pushed from her lungs. "It's because of what I said to Dad just before they left for Hawaii."

"Did you have a teenage meltdown?"

"No. I had an I'm-­tired-­of-­being-­ignored meltdown."

"Ignored?" From over three thousand miles away, he'd thought Nicki was probably being spoiled and growing up like a little princess.

She dropped her face into her hands and sobbed. He pulled her into a full hug and just let her cry it out. She wiped her nose on his shirt and he didn't even care. He wanted to know what was wrong. He wanted to help. At the moment he just wasn't sure how.

When the tears started to subside, he left her long enough to grab the box of tissues from her dresser. She pulled out a half dozen and tried to mop up the damage.

"S-­sorry about your shirt." She hiccupped.

"I don't care about the shirt, baby girl. I just care about you. Please tell me what's going on. I can't help if you don't."

"You can't help anyway." She sniffed, then decided to blow her nose. "I got tired of Dad always having something else to do when it involved me. He'd practically run out of a room when I'd walk in."

"Nicki. That can't be true. He loved you."

"I don't think he did." Her face crumpled and the tears started to flow again. "I'm not even sure I'm really your sister."

"What?" Where the hell had she gotten that idea? "Of course you are. You look just like the rest of us except prettier."

She shrugged. "I finally asked Dad why he ignored me. I hoped-­like Mom-­he'd tell me I was imagining things and give me a hug to make me feel better. But he didn't. Instead he admitted that something in his past had affected him negatively where I was concerned. And that while he didn't blame me, he just didn't know if he could ever move past it to be the kind of father I wanted."

What the fuck?

Everything was starting to crumble and Jordan felt a cold chill slice up his back. He'd always thought his parents were perfect and that they had the perfect marriage. But now . . .

"I don't know what he meant," his sister said. "Now he's gone and I'll never find out."

"Nobody else knows about this conversation?"

She shook her head. "I wanted to tell Ryan but he's so busy and he's got to take care of Riley all on his own. I didn't want to burden him with my problems."



       
         
       
        

"Why didn't you ask Mom?"

"There wasn't time."

"God, Nicki, I don't know what to say." He gathered her up in a hug and she finally hugged him back. "But we'll figure this out, okay?"

She nodded. "What did you come in here to tell me before we got sidetracked?"

Do the right thing.

Jordan took a deep breath. "Don't worry about anything, Nicki. We're going to get this all worked out. I've made a decision and family comes first."

The nap Lucy had taken earlier revived her so that now when she should be thinking of going to bed she was wide awake. Waking alone had been both disappointing and a blessing. There was nothing she loved more than looking at Jordan's sleek, toned muscles when he was naked. She loved the heat that radiated from his body. His always clean, masculine scent. And the feel of his soft hair beneath her fingers. But the discussion they'd had just before he'd hauled her off to the bedroom had been uncomfortable.

For three years she'd been in control of her life. Of every step she took and every move she made. She'd made healthy decisions and she'd set healthy boundaries.