A Better Man

by Candis Terry

  Would she be fired?

  Suspended?

  Whatever the punishment for falling in love, she’d pay without argument. Because not for one minute did she regret going to North Carolina with Jordan and Nicole. She’d met the man of her dreams—­even though she’d once considered him a nightmare—­and she’d somehow managed to help and understand a young girl who seemed to be in such need after the loss of her parents.

  She’d been grateful for Talk of the Town’s apology, even if it didn’t sound too sincere. But what take on the situation would the school administrators have?

  Guess she’d soon find out.

  Parking in her usual space, she gathered all her supplies and headed toward the brick building amid students chatting about what they did for spring break. As soon as she opened her classroom door the snakes in her stomach reared their tongue-­flicking heads. Waiting for her at her desk was Principal Brown in his usual black pants, white shirt, and expertly styled comb-­over.

  “Good morning, Ms. Diamond. Welcome back.”

  “Good morning, sir. Thank you.”

  “Quite a stir the newspaper created.”

  “My only intention on going to North Carolina was to help a student.”

  “I figured.”

  “You did?” Her heart slammed against her ribs.

  “I’ve known you for three years. I think you have excellent character. And I’d never doubt your decision to help someone after they’d suffered such a loss as has Nicole Kincade.”

  Relief weakened her knees. “Thank you, sir.”

  “You can thank the young lady herself. She came into my office this morning. Told me how you helped her with her grief and her schoolwork. She told me how you helped her find the courage to talk about her music and how you encouraged her songwriting. She’s very excited to come back to class.”

  “She is?” Lucy wished the girl was there right now so she could hug her.

  The principal nodded. “She said you were also able to help her brother deal with his grief.”

  Lucy sighed. “Mr. Brown, not everything in that story was a total fabrication.”

  “Oh?”

  “Jordan Kincade and I have known each other since high school. I used to tutor him. We were . . . friends.”

  “And now it’s something more?”

  “How did you know?”

  “You’re glowing, Ms. Diamond.” He smiled and patted her hand. “Love has a way of doing that to people. My Maisey had that same look when we were courting.”

  “I was afraid I’d come back and find out I’d been fired.”

  “You have a job here for as long as you want.” The school bell rang. He got up out of her chair and headed to the door. “In the meantime, enjoy yourself. It’s nice to see you smile.”

  As soon as he left the room Lucy wanted to drop down in her chair and cry with relief, but her students started filing in, chattering like mice, and she just felt too darned happy to cry.

  In the final game of the series against the Stars, the Vipers were down by a goal with a minute left on the clock in the third period. Jordan stood in front of the bench rocking side-­to-­side on his skates, anxious to get back on the ice.

  When he’d skated on earlier to warm up everything had felt different. He felt different. He’d never been in love. Never had someone waiting at home for him. Still he played a fast and furious game.

  Tonight the Stars were on. Their passes were accurate. They didn’t bullshit around with extracurricular pushing and shoving. They were in it to win it and the Vipers were fighting back with everything they had.

  With the shift change, Jordan threw his legs over the wall and skated into the face-­off determined to help the team to a win. They’d overcome a deficit in this short amount of time before; they could do it again.

  The ice in the Stars’ stadium was hinky. Slushy in places. Not everyone who played could handle the inconsistencies that had been a part of their problem all night. When the puck dropped, Jordan slid it across the ice to Seabrook. Seabrook pushed forward and passed to O’Reilly, who’d had a hard time getting a stick on it all night. The puck skittered across the ice as the clock wound down to five seconds.

  Jordan yelled, “Shoot it.”

  O’Reilly pulled his arm back, swung, and the puck flew right of the net. The buzzer rang.

  Game over.

  No playoffs. No Stanley Cup.

  While the joyous Stars gathered at center ice, the defeated Vipers skated off to the locker room.

  Once they’d all gathered, Coach Reiner gave his spiel about there always being next year. They’d worked hard. Tried hard. Things just didn’t go their way. Blah blah blah. Once he wrapped up, the media converged like sewer rats. Usually the reporters went straight for the victor’s locker room but apparently the Stars’ doors were locked and they had time to kill until entry was granted.

  Jordan sat down on the bench in front of his locker. While taking off his skates he noticed a pair of pressed khakis in front of him.

  “Brett Beaver from FOX 4 News. Can I interview you?”

  Jordan looked up to the man holding a video camera who looked like he never went out in the sun or had learned to properly knot a tie. “Sure.”

  “How do you feel about losing the chance to go to the playoffs? Are you depressed?” The man stuck the microphone in Jordan’s face.

  Heartbroken for the Vipers, Lucy sat next to Nicole on the sofa in her living room watching post-­game interviews. After Jordan had left for Dallas, she and Nicole had spent more time together. They’d grown closer. And when Nicole finally explained the cause of her anger and the situation with the missing money, Lucy’s heart ached.

  Right now the young girl sat on Lucy’s sofa wearing a huge frown because her brother’s team had lost. Lucy felt bad because they’d fought a good fight out on the ice. But at least he’d given it a try. That’s what mattered.

  At their feet lay Ziggy and the kitten Jordan had given Nicole. The cute little gray fluff of fur Nicole had named Fezzik had perched himself along Ziggy’s back and lay purring while he slept.

  Suddenly the camera went to the Vipers’ locker room, where Jordan’s gorgeous face filled the screen.

  With a slight tilt of his head, Jordan replied to the reporter’s question. “Am I depressed?”

  Nicole chuckled. “Jordy’s going to punch that guy.”

  Lucy chuckled because she’d bet that’s exactly what Jordan felt like doing. “No he’s not. He saves the fists of fury for on the ice.”

  “I feel bad for the team.” Jordan’s broad shoulders plus padding came up in a shrug. “They’ve worked hard to get this far. Plus they had to cover for me while I was gone.”

  “Family matters, right?” the voice behind the camera said.

  “Both my parents were killed.”

  “My condolences.”

  “Yeah.” Nicole snorted. “He sounds real sincere.”

  Lucy had to agree the guy sounded like he couldn’t care less.

  “Thanks.” Jordan ran a hand through his soaking wet hair. “Being back home gave me a lot of time to think.”

  “I can imagine,” said the voice behind the camera. “So how did that feel when O’Reilly completely missed that last shot on goal?”

  “Can’t think about that right now.” Jordan shook his head. “I’ve got more on my mind than what someone did or didn’t do on the ice tonight. You can’t rewind time and change things. You have to move forward. That’s why this is my last season. I’m retiring.”

  “What?” Nicole and Lucy said at the same time, then looked at each other like maybe they hadn’t heard right.

  “Retiring?” The voice behind the camera perked up like he knew he’d just caught an exclusive moment. “It’s not like you’re too old to play anymore.”

 
One side of Jordan’s mouth quirked. “I’ve been playing hard for fifteen years. That’s fifteen years of busting my ass, my knuckles, and my face. Fifteen years of tearing ligaments and cracking ribs. I’m not going to miss any of that. I’m leaving the game with 668 goals and 934 assists. I’m proud of that. But to accomplish all of that I missed a lot of time with my family.”

  “But you love the game, right?” the reporter asked. “The competition?”

  “He does,” Nicole said to Lucy. “So why would he quit?”

  Lucy shook her head and a sinking sensation hit her in the gut. “We have to trust he knows what he’s doing.”

  “He did tell me that when he leaves the game, it will be the right thing for him,” Nicole said. “Not because he felt forced into it.”

  “Then we definitely need to trust him,” Lucy said.

  “I do love the game,” Jordan said to the reporter. “And there might be times when I’ll miss it. But there are other things I love just as much or more. I don’t want to be a Kincade in name only anymore. I want to be an actual part of my family. I can’t do that if I’m never around. So, back to your question. Am I depressed about losing this game and the chance to go to the playoffs? The answer is no. I have something better to do.”

  “Anything specific you have planned for your future?”

  “Yep.” Jordan looked into the camera and grinned. “I’m going home to ask my girl to marry me.”

  Lucy and Nicole looked at each other, screamed, then hugged each other until they cried.

  Nicole’s kitten sprang off Ziggy’s back.

  Ziggy cocked his head and completely ruined the moment.

  Jordan had texted Lucy while she’d been teaching a class to say he was on his way home via commercial flight. A feat that could mean he’d arrive home on time or possibly end up sleeping on the floor of the Phoenix airport. She’d texted him back saying she couldn’t wait to see him. Since she hadn’t made any reference to it, he wondered if she’d watched his last game. Wondered if she’d seen the interview afterward.

  A grin lit him up inside and replaced any doubt about walking away from his career. With his skates and jersey in his suitcase, he knew he’d have days of doubt. Possible days of regret. Days where he just missed the fast pace of the game and the camaraderie between teammates. He also knew that he was heading into unfamiliar territory.

  And that excited the hell out of him.

  The possibilities were endless.

  He had no idea what he might do with the rest of his life except for one thing. He wanted to be with Lucy during the good times and the bad. He wanted her to be the last thing he saw at night and the first thing he saw each morning. He wanted to plan their future together, have children, and grow old together. And the faster he got to her house, the faster he could make it all happen.

  Finally, at ten minutes after seven he rang her doorbell. The front door flew open and Lucy rushed into his arms.

  “Yes. Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.”

  He planted a long, sweet kiss on her luscious mouth, then chuckled. “So I guess you saw the post-­game interview?”

  She nodded and her glasses slipped down her nose a little before she pushed them back in place with the tip of her finger. “I saw the whole game. And I’m so sorry you lost. But I’m so glad you’re home. And . . . yes. Oh, I love you, Jordan.”

  Something wound around his heart that he’d never experienced before. Not even the first time he’d slapped the puck between the pipes.

  Absolute pure joy.

  Lucinda Nutter loved him.

  “Can I ask you properly anyway?” he asked with a grin. “Just for the record.”

  “You can do anything you want.”

  “Anything?”

  Her fingertips danced down the buttons on his shirt. “Anything.”

  “Exactly what I wanted to hear.” He backed her into the house and kicked the door shut. Then he scooped her up and tossed her over his shoulder. She giggled all the way up the stairs and the entire time he stripped her naked.

  He took off her glasses and set them on the nightstand. Then he pulled off his own clothes in fast-­forward speed.

  When he eased her back onto the bed she was still chuckling. “I thought you wanted to do this properly.”

  He kissed her deep, hot, and wet. The kiss set him on fire. He wanted her. Needed her. Loved her like crazy. When she moved her legs apart he slid inside, filling her body while she filled his heart.

  “This is my version of properly.” He framed her face with his hands. Kissed her forehead. Kissed the tip of her nose. “I love you, Lucy. You’re everything that matters today, tomorrow, and forever. You’ve made me a better man. Will you marry me?”

  “I love you, Jordan.” She sighed dreamily. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

  Once upon a time, Jordan’s wishes had been about hockey goals, fame, fortune, and life in the fast lane. Somewhere along the way he’d learned to be careful what he wished for. But if he’d known Lucy would come into his life and fulfill his dreams for a happily-­ever-­after, he would have made different choices a long time ago. Together they were about to create a life together where the sky was the limit.

  And in that new world, loving Lucy was everything that mattered.

  Don’t miss Candis Terry’s next

  fantastic Sunshine Creek Vineyard novel

  PERFECT FOR YOU

  Coming early 2017

  In Declan Kincade’s world the real problem with leisure time was finding the time for it.

  At the window of his Newport Beach high-­rise office, he watched the sunset glisten across the ocean waves. Down on the beach–­like a ritual changing of the guards–­the sun worshipers packed up their beach towels, tanning lotion, and umbrellas to head home while the locals grabbed their boards for their moment in the sand and surf. Early summer was the perfect time of year for Californians to play along the coastline before the hoards of vacationers swamped the beaches and local bars.

  Not that Declan knew much about having fun these days. In fact, he hadn’t had fun in . . . hell, he couldn’t remember. He’d spent nearly eight non-­stop years working on his career. Not that he was complaining, but he had started to feel the wear and tear on his brain. At the age of thirty-­three, he felt like he was entering his golden years without all the significant life experiences. And that was not okay.

  The recent tragic deaths of his parents had taught him one thing–­life was too damn short.

  Hands in pockets, he settled back on the heels of his black oxfords, wishing instead he was in a more casual shoe and strolling down the Newport pier. He imagined the sound of the waves crashing against the pier’s massive pylons. He imagined watching the fishermen bring in their daily catch while the gulls hovering overhead screeched for scraps. He imagined stopping at the oyster bar for a cold brew and a quiet moment to watch the last of the bikini-­clad beauties shuffle back to their cars. Instead he would spend one more evening within these office walls in a meeting scheduled to start in . . . He glanced down at the Citizen Signature watch clasped to his wrist . . . four minutes.

  Imagining life was no longer enough. He’d reached a point where he needed more. He needed to participate instead of just being a part-­time observer. The problem was, he’d kind of forgotten how.

  Behind him the door opened.

  “They’re here. Are you ready?”

  The husky female voice caused him to turn instead of just nodding his head. Over the past four years he’d heard that voice a million times. But today, as his assistant peeked around the door, Dec couldn’t help consider his twin brother’s recent observation.

  She’s hot as hell.

  It wasn’t that Declan had never noticed Brooke Hastings’s bikini bod, long legs, and deep brown eyes. It wasn’t that her bubbly personality hadn’t made him laugh at
times when he really wanted to pull his hair out. And it wasn’t that he didn’t have an appreciation for her high IQ that never failed to create a solution that would benefit the financial investment company he’d built from the ground up. But Brooke was his assistant and mixing business with pleasure was a very bad idea.

  Even if his newly engaged brother insisted he chose pleasure over work.

  “Dec?” Brooke’s head tilted slightly and a waterfall of honey blonde hair fell over the shoulder of her silky white blouse. “Are you okay?”

  Hell no, he wasn’t okay.

  Because right now, even though he knew it was wrong, he couldn’t help wonder how all her soft shiny hair would feel wrapped around his hands while he pulled her in and seduced her right out of that hip-­hugging skirt.

  “Dec?” When she stepped inside his office he blinked to take his eyes off all those curves that made a simple button-­down blouse look like something that should be removed.

  Slowly.

  One button at a time.

  With his teeth.

  “Yeah.” He took a breath. “Bring them in.”

  “You sure?” Her head tilted in an are-­you-­positive-­you-­haven’t-­gone-­off-­the-­deep-­end way.

  The only thing he was sure about was he was going to kill his brother for planting ideas in his brain that had no business being there.

  “Yep. Let’s do this.”

  Before she disappeared to escort their clients into his office, Brooke flashed him a grin that showed off a perfect set of dimples. He’d seen those dimples five days a week for four freaking years. So why, all of a sudden, did he have the urge to press his lips against them and then follow up with a slow slide of his tongue down her long, delicate neck?

  Less than a minute later she escorted James and Josh Flavio into his office. The father-­son duo was looking for investment advice on a beachside Caribbean-­style restaurant.

  “Gentlemen. Welcome.” Declan extended his hand. With the perfunctory introductions made, he gestured to the conference table. While the men chose their seats, Declan watched Brooke settle into the leather chair at the end of the granite table and cross her legs.