A Better Man

by Candis Terry

  “Strapless bra, please.”

  Lucy turned to look at Rashard. “Strapless?”

  “You don’t have one?”

  “Yes, but I never—­”

  “—­wear it in public?” Rashard sighed. “You do now, my darling. Don’t you worry. Rashard will have you not only looking but feeling like a princess before you step out that door. Your man will never know what hit him.”

  Her man?

  Dear God. She needed a drink.

  An hour and a half later, with her eyes closed as Rashard had requested, Lucy stood in front of the only full-­length mirror she owned, which happened to be attached to the back of her bedroom door with double-­stick tape. For the past ninety minutes she’d been buffed, puffed, powdered, fluffed, and schooled on not only how to look like a princess, but also how to actually act like one.

  Apparently time for the big reveal had come.

  Lucy still didn’t know why these people had showed up at her door, didn’t know why they’d come prepared with all the fixings to turn a toad into . . . well, not a toad. She didn’t know what to expect but she was both excited and scared half to death.

  “Now. Take a deep breath.” Rashard demonstrated. “And once you’ve pushed all the air from your lungs, open your eyes.”

  Lucy gave up the fight.

  Heart pounding, she did as instructed.

  When her eyes managed to flutter open past the weight of the false eyelashes, she had no option but to gasp.

  “Is that . . . me?”

  On a daily basis Lucy knew she looked average, not dreadful. But for the first time in her life she looked . . .

  “Gorgeous,” Rashard confirmed.

  “Stunning,” Gloria clarified.

  “Magical,” Beatrice corroborated. “Cinderella has nothing on you.”

  Glasses gone, contacts in place, Lucy blinked. “You weren’t kidding about being my fairy godmothers.”

  “My darling.” Rashard took her now beautifully manicured hands in his. “It’s impossible for a woman to look as dazzling as you do right now, every day. The trick is to do whatever it takes to feel dazzling. This proves you’ve got what it takes to look like royalty on the outside. You need to feel and believe that you are beautiful on the inside as well.”

  Guilty as charged. Lucy never gave herself much thought. The only time she’d ever really focused on herself had been when she was battling for her life.

  “Now. I want you to step out that door feeling like a princess, because you certainly look like one. Let your heart be light and step into the arms of the man who wanted you to have this experience.”

  The man who wanted her to have this experience.

  Gloria handed Rashard a sealed envelope, which he then handed to Lucy, then gave her an air kiss to each cheek. “Make us proud, my darling.”

  Lucy looked down at the envelope in her hands and the short bold strokes that spelled out her name. When she glanced up to thank her fairy godmothers, they were gone.

  She spun around but they were no longer in the room. If it hadn’t been for the sound of the front door closing, Lucy would question her sanity.

  Slipping her finger beneath the flap, she withdrew the card inside.

  Lucy,

  Please come downstairs and join me for Wishes, Dreams, and Happily-­Ever-­After.

  Jordan

  Lucy’s heart skipped.

  Wishes, Dreams, and Happily-­Ever-­After?

  What was going on?

  Lifting the skirt of her floor-­length Cinderella ball gown, she sighed and looked at Ziggy, who lay stretched out on the foot of her bed. “If I’m not home before midnight, either promise I won’t turn into a pumpkin or you’ll call the cops.”

  Ziggy barked.

  “Good enough.”

  When the doorbell rang Lucy nearly forgot everything she’d just been taught. Her heart sprang into action. While she wanted to rush off, she instead wiggled her toes in the sparkling high heels and carefully made her way down the stairs. With her hand on the knob she took a breath to quell her racing heart and opened the door.

  Had she not had to admit that Rashard and the girls had done an amazing job of turning her into Cinderella for a night, the look on Jordan’s face said it all.

  And because of that, for the first time in her life, she really did feel beautiful.

  “You’re wearing a . . . tux,” Lucy said as soon as she opened the door. “I don’t know what to say.”

  For a moment, he didn’t know what to say either. Because she simply stole his breath.

  “No worries. I’ve got that covered.” He took her hand and gave her a little twirl. “You look gorgeous.”

  When she blushed Jordan realized that he might not always say or do the right thing, but when he got it right, he nailed it.

  The strapless lavender gown fit at the top in a sparkling cut that formed a heart-­shaped neckline at her lush cleavage, and the bottom of the gown floated out in an array of lilac ruffles. The gown fit her perfectly. But it was Lucy herself who made the gown spectacular.

  Her silky hair had been left down in a carefree tangle of soft curls he wanted to wrap around his hands. Her makeup had been artfully applied not to mask her beauty, but to accent it. And her full, kissable lips were highlighted only by a swipe of shiny gloss instead of a dark color to hide them.

  “You take my breath away, Lucy.”

  Her shoulders lifted on an intake of air. “You don’t have to say that.”

  He leaned in and inhaled the sweet scent that drifted up from her warm skin. “Get used to it.” Noticing her uneasiness, he smiled. “Because the way I see it, whether you’re dressed like you’re ready for a ball or walking the corridor of school, you’re a stunning woman.”

  “Not that I don’t appreciate it, but I’m wondering why you sent three strangers to my house. Other than the obvious.”

  “I might say I overstepped. But clearly, I sent the right people.”

  “They scared me to death. I thought they were here to rob me.”

  He grinned. “Someone named Rashard from a place called Stardust Creations scared you to death?”

  “Well, maybe not after he told me his name and why he was here.”

  “Scaring you was never my intent.” He realized he was still holding her hand, and he gave her cool, soft fingers a little squeeze. “Surprising you with something I doubt you’d ever do for yourself was my only objective.”

  Her pillowy breasts lifted above the sparkling neckline on an intake of air that she let go with a little sigh. “You make it very hard to be mad at you.”

  “Good. I’d hate to waste the entire evening with you angry. I have more surprises in store.”

  “Thank you.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “No one’s ever done anything this nice for me before.”

  “You’re welcome.” He smiled. “And I’m glad it makes you feel good.”

  “I feel . . . fancy.” Her laughter brought forth the dimple in her cheek. “And I certainly hope you didn’t reserve a table at Cranky Hank’s, because this dress really is too fabulous to worry about soiling it with sweet and sticky barbecue sauce.”

  “I agree.” Even though the mention of sweet and sticky did not bring barbecue sauce to his mind. “And no, I didn’t make plans to take you to any of the restaurants in Sunshine.”

  “Where then? Your note was a little cryptic.”

  “There are more surprises in store.” He offered her his arm. “Shall we?”

  “I’ll admit”—­she settled her hand on his forearm—­“you do have me curious.”

  With a laugh and a wink to Ziggy, who’d stretched out beside the coffee table, Jordan pulled the front door closed. Then he led her down the walkway to where the limo driver stood with the door open and waiting.

 
; “Where you going all gussied up?”

  Jordan looked up as an elderly woman next door came out onto her porch.

  “Hi, Mrs. B.” Lucy gave the woman a little wave.

  “You sure look pretty.”

  Even in the dark Jordan caught the blush on Lucy’s cheeks.

  “Thank you, Mrs. B.”

  “Hot date, huh?”

  Jordan chuckled. “I promise I’ll take good care of her.”

  “Nonsense,” Mrs. B said. “What that girl needs is to get her feathers all ruffled. In a good way, if you know what I mean.”

  “Mrs. B!”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” Jordan reassured the woman. He turned to Lucy. “Looks like your neighbor thinks you should be going out more.”

  “Yes, well, dementia makes people say all kinds of crazy things.”

  “I don’t have it and I agree with her.”

  Lucy looked up into his eyes and before she could protest, he lifted her hand and kissed the backs of her fingers. “How about we get in the limo and see if you might agree too.”

  For a long, silent moment Lucy looked at him. Then she turned toward her neighbor. “I’ll be by tomorrow to take you grocery shopping, Mrs. B.”

  “Okey-­dokey.” Mrs. B waved from her porch. “You enjoy yourself tonight. Who knows what tomorrow will bring.”

  “Wise woman,” Jordan said as Lucy watched her go back into her house.”

  “I worry about her. I don’t think she should be living alone anymore.”

  “Nice of you to take her shopping.”

  “She’s like the grandma I never had. So I look after her when her son and daughter are too busy.”

  “Does that happen a lot?”

  “Unfortunately.”

  Jordan noted that Lucy seemed to be a caretaker. An admirable quality he was sure those she chose to care for appreciated. “Your chariot awaits, my lady.”

  “I’ve never been in one of these before,” she said, sliding onto the long leather seat.

  “Stick with me, kid, I’ll show you all kinds of things.” He waited until she moved aside the ruffles on her dress, then he slid in beside her. “Why should the teenagers have all the fun?”

  “Good point.” She spread her fingers across the seat and caressed the buttery leather.

  While Jordan imagined how those long, dainty fingers would feel on his skin, he lifted the bottle of Moët that had been chilling in the stainless ice bucket. He poured the bubbly into crystal flutes and watched her eyes widen when he dropped a ripe strawberry into each glass.

  Yes. He’d tried to remember every detail she’d mentioned last night. He handed her the drink. “I hope this will be a night of many firsts for you.”

  “It’s certainly off to a good start.”

  When Lucy let her guard down and looked at him like she was right now, he felt like a completely different man.

  A better man.

  Now all he had to do was figure out how to keep her looking at him like that for longer than a few minutes.

  Guilt had played into his initial reason for planning this night. He owed it to her since he’d taken that long-­ago night away. But the more he was around her, the more she intrigued him. For him, Lucy was like that special gold foil–­wrapped chocolate in a box of assorted treats. You didn’t know exactly what you were going to get until you unwrapped it and took a bite.

  Lucy had many interesting places he’d like to taste.

  He lifted his glass to hers and they toasted. As Lucy pursed her luscious lips and sipped her champagne, the only thing Jordan thought could possibly make this night even better was if he could sip the champagne from her naked body. As a bonus he could think of plenty of ways to use the ripe strawberries. And heaven help him if a can of whipped cream came into play.

  Imagining Lucy spread out on a big bed with soft sheets made his tuxedo pants tighten. As difficult as it was to keep his mind where it should be, not even a raging hard-­on would get him to break the promise he’d made to give Lucy a night she’d never forget.

  She deserved to have a night just for her. It seemed she was great at helping others. Jordan wanted her to have a night where she could hopefully have a little fun and break free from any chains from the past that had bound her and stopped her from seeing herself as a brilliant, beautiful, desirable woman.

  That’s how he saw her.

  “So if not Cranky Hank’s, where are we going?” She sipped her champagne, then dipped her fingers into the glass, brought the strawberry to her lips, and took a bite.

  The move wasn’t calculated, Lucy didn’t play that way. But he wondered if she had any idea at all how incredibly sexy she was. Whether she was in her kitchen wearing a big fluffy robe and pouring a cup of tea or wearing a ball gown and plucking a strawberry from a glass, she fascinated the hell out of him.

  He didn’t even want to think about the dream he’d had of her in the few hours he’d actually slept last night. The zipper of his pants was already tight enough.

  “Maybe you missed the part about all this being a surprise?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “I’m not a very patient person.”

  “Good to know, and too bad.” He refilled her glass. “Because in about two minutes I’m going to have you close your eyes.”

  “What if I don’t trust you enough to close them?” The upward tilt of her lips let him know her words were just a tease.

  Heaven help him. He did like a playful woman.

  He grinned. “What do I have to do to win you over?”

  The heat of her gaze warmed him as those dark chocolate eyes looked him up and down, then searched his face. His fingertips tingled to touch her.

  “Between the dress and the limo I think you’ve probably already proven yourself.”

  “Then how about you close those gorgeous eyes now?”

  Her lashes fluttered, then her eyes closed in a display of trust.

  And damned if he wasn’t about to break it.

  He leaned in and touched his lips to hers.

  Briefly.

  Because he had to.

  To her credit, she didn’t open her eyes as he lifted his head. Instead a sexy little hum vibrated in her throat.

  “Careful, Mr. Kincade.”

  She looked so delicious sitting there with her long, curly hair, her pretty lips, and her luscious cleavage teasing him from behind that sparkly fabric. Everything male inside him wanted to lay her back on that buttery leather seat and feast on her in the privacy of the darkened limo. He wanted to lift all those lavender ruffles and run his hand up her long legs until he discovered whether she wore silk panties or nothing at all. But he’d gone to a great extent to make sure she had something she’d never been able to enjoy before.

  Tonight wasn’t about him and what he wanted. Tonight was about putting a smile on her face for reasons other than what he’d fantasized in his head. Tonight was about making up for the ass he’d been back in high school. And tonight was probably about a whole lot more he wasn’t yet willing to consider.

  “Ms. Diamond, I should probably let you know careful isn’t in my vocabulary.”

  When the limo stopped, Jordan peered through the window, hoping everything was in place. If so, it would be a miracle. “Keep your eyes closed, Lucy.”

  “I am.”

  “Do you trust me?”

  “No.”

  “Not even a little?”

  “Maybe a smidge.”

  The driver opened the door, and Jordan slid out onto the cobblestone path. He gave a nod and a handsome tip to the man, knowing he’d provide his own transportation to get Lucy either back home or to his Creekside Cottage should she choose to extend the party after hours.

  He reached inside the limo, took Lucy’s hand, and helped her from the car. When she sto
od beside him she tilted her head slightly as if listening for clues to their location. But the only sound was that of the creek bubbling over rocks and the distant call of a western bluebird.

  “I hear water,” she said. “But I can’t imagine dressed like this we’re going for a swim.”

  “There’s a place nearby. But that’s not on the menu unless it’s something you feel strongly about.”

  Eyes still closed, she shivered a little. “Still a little too early in the season for that.”

  “I agree.” Although if she wanted to skinny-­dip, he’d bend over backward to make it happen. He took her hand, placed it in the crook of his arm, and led her to the big double doors.

  Jordan had never been the type to get excited over much except shooting a perfect goal, winning a game, or inching ever closer to winning the Cup. For the first time, his heart gave a funny jump as he guided Lucy inside the building and found everything exactly as he’d imagined it. When the door closed behind them, he turned her to face the room.

  “You can open your eyes now.”

  Lucy’s fingers flew to her mouth to cover her surprise. “Oh . . . my . . . what is this?”

  An enormous teardrop chandelier shot prisms of colored light onto the walls and wood floor of a large ballroom. Beneath the chandelier sat a single table covered with black and white linens, white pillar candles, and an artfully designed stargazer lily centerpiece. On the table was a sterling ice bucket that held yet another bottle of champagne. A stage at the end of the room displayed blue castle walls with a golden carriage at the center. And twinkling fairy lights danced from behind panels of sheer white curtains. From overhead, a sound system softly played “I’ll Be.”

  Jordan reached for her hand. “Hopefully the prom you never had.”

  Wonder filtered through her every pore as she turned to him. He looked unbelievably debonair in his black tuxedo with his dark hair all sleek and combed back. And although she preferred his sexy five o’clock scruff, he’d shaved his strong jaw and chiseled cheeks. “Prom?”

  “I know it might seem kind of corny. But it could have been worse the way I first imagined it,” he explained with a wary look in his eyes. “When I contacted Principal Brown on his day off, he wasn’t impressed by my NHL stats and refused to give me carte blanche to use the high school gym. The best I could do was talk the drama teacher into letting me use the cardboard props from the Cinderella play they did last fall. We’re in the event center at Sunshine Creek Vineyards.”