A Better Man by Candis Terry Page A

that.” Nicole jumped up and dashed from the room.
    Aunt Pippy and Riley gave him sympathetic puppy eyes.
    Wise beyond her years, Riley said, “Give her some time, Uncle Jordy. She’s sad and she feels all alone. It took me a while after my mama left to figure things out, but I’m okay now. Nicki will be too.”
    A million emotions flooded Jordan’s heart. With the exception of Ryan, he and his brothers liked to poke fun at the former Laura Kincade—­now Laura Landau—­toilet paper commercial queen. The one thing they often forgot was how Laura’s abandoning her family for Hollywood affected little R iley.
    Jordan leaned down and kissed the top of Riley’s silky hair. “Thank you, sweetheart. I’ll keep that in mind.” He tossed a look to his aunt. “Can you hold off dishing up that spaghetti for a few more minu tes?”
    â€œTake as long as you n eed.”
    â€œMight take a while.” He pushed a breath of clogged air from his lungs. “I don’t have all this figured out. But I’m working on it.”
    â€œDon’t forget,” Pippy said. “You’ve got four brothers who are all pretty smart. So don’t go thinking you have to do everything on your own.”
    His brothers already had their hands full. And lucky for him, Lucy would be by his side.
    â€œI know you believe you’ve got some making up to do,” Aunt Pippy said. “But that’s only from your side of seeing thi ngs.”
    He glanced up the stairs. “Pretty sure it’s the way Nicki sees things too.”
    â€œJust give her some time. Like Riley said, she’ll come aro und.”
    He hoped so, but he wasn’t willing to bet o n it.
    With a nod, he curled his fingers around the bag in his hand, and went up to the baby dragon’s lair. Not surprisingly her door was closed. He’d expected her to slam it when she’d rushed up the stairs, but somehow she’d refra ined.
    He knocked. Of course, she didn’t respond. He knocked again. And again. And again. Until finally she yanked the door open.
    â€œWhat’s it going to take for you to go away?” she ground out between clenched teeth. “I know you’re dying to.”
    He held out the white paper bag. “This is for you.”
    She eyed the bag curiously, somehow maintaining the stink-­eye in the process. Talent. Pure talent to do that. It had taken him years to perfect the stink-­eye on the ice. For him it had been no easy task—­like patting himself on the head and rubbing his stomach in circles at the same time.
    â€œWhat’s that?” she a sked.
    â€œIt’s a surprise.” He jiggled the bag. “For you.”
    She continued to eye him suspicio usly.
    â€œJust some stuff I picked up that I thought you might like,” he explained. “I promise nothing will jump out and bite you.”
    While she continued to glare at him, he pushed past her and moved into her room.
    â€œYou can’t just barge your way in h ere.”
    â€œToo late.” He set the bag down on her bed. On his way out the door he stopped where she stood in the center of her room with her arms crossed, tapping the toe of one pink Converse high -­top.
    â€œKeep it. Toss it. Doesn’t matter,” he said. “What does matter is that I’m not going anywhere. And I’ll be back tomorrow to piss you off some more.” As he made his way toward the stairs he heard her sputter an obscenity. Then her door closed and he heard the distinct rattle of the paper bag.
    A smile crossed his lips.
    He hoped the pink floral journal and set of colored gel pens would give her the inspiration to start writing down what was on her mind. The king-­sized Snickers bar had just been pure bribery. Whatever she chose to do with the contents of the bag tonight didn’t have any weight on his plans for tomo rrow.
    He’d be back.

Chapter 7
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