Free A Better Man by Candis Terry

different now.
    They might be willing to freely give him their trust, but Jordan knew it had to be ea rned.
    And he intended to do just that.
    â€œHey guys,” he said over the thundering volume of the game. All his brothers looked up. He raised his bottle and choked back the emotion jammed in his throat. “Tha nks.”

Chapter 6
    H is team hadn’t just lost; they’d had their asses handed to them in a 4–1 battle on the ice caused by too many reckless Viper penalties and too many opportunities for the Penguins. Guilt tightened another notch around his neck as Jordan walked into The Muddy Cup Café the following afternoon. He couldn’t imagine how he’d ever get a cup of coffee past the regret tangled up in his c hest.
    As soon as he opened the door of the brightly lit café, he zeroed in on Lucy sitting with her back to him in a booth at the rear of the room. Head down, she studied the headline of the newest edition of Talk of the Town .
    HOLLYWOOD’S BEATERS, CHEA TERS,
    AND DIRTY DIVORCE SE CRETS
    Looked like the local newspaper was on top of important things in the news.
    Today Lucy’s hair was pulled up off her long graceful neck in one of those messy buns Jordan always thought gave a woman that sexy just-­out-­of-­bed look. Lucy unwittingly had that look about her. Anyone could tell she wasn’t the type who spent hours primping in front of the mirror. But with a thick, dark sweep of lashes accenting her dark chocolate eyes, a smooth and lightly tanned complexion, and full lips with a natural blush, she had a whole lot of sexy going on. Even if she didn’t realiz e it.
    He slid into the booth opposite her.
    â€œYou’re late.” She looked up, pressed the bridge of her glasses up with one fi nger.
    â€œOnly by five minu tes.”
    â€œWell, now we only have fifty-­five minutes to t alk.”
    â€œI didn’t know we’d be on a ti mer.”
    â€œI think I mentioned I have a prior commitment at five-­thirty.” She lifted her cup, took a sip of what he guessed was tea, not coffee, then set it back down in the saucer. “So the clock is tick ing.”
    Leaning in, he smiled. “If I buy you a cookie, will you forgive me?”
    One pretty arched brown lifted. “Make it two and I’ll consider it.”
    â€œD one.”
    â€œOn second thought . . .” The corners of her luscious lips quirked. “Make them white chocolate chunk with macadamia nuts and I’ll even consider being late for my next appointm ent.”
    â€œIn that case I’m buying all they have.” He settled back in the seat and winked. “I’ll be happy to give you anything you w ant.”
    Humor clicked in her brown eyes. “Are you flirting with me ag ain?”
    â€œI’m trying. But apparently I’m out of pract ice.”
    Her expression said it all. Men didn’t flirt with her.
    But he did.
    And he would keep on flirting with her until she told him to stop.
    â€œI . . . don’t know how to respond to that,” she admi tted.
    â€œDon’t worry. You’ll get used to it.” He flagged down the server. After the young woman rattled off about fifty types of coffee flavors, he ordered a plain black coffee for himself, a refill on whatever Lucy was drinking, and the entire tray of white chocolate chunk with macadamia nuts coo kies.
    â€œYou want those to go?” the waitress named Tammy asked with a laugh. “Or do you plan on eating them all h ere?”
    â€œTwo for now, the rest you can box up.”
    As soon as the server walked away Lucy said, “I was kidding about the cook ies.”
    â€œBut I wasn’t kidding about giving you anything you wan ted.”
    She sighed, but the smile on her face said she might be open to a little flirtatious ness.
    â€œCan we please get down to business?” she a sked.
    â€œIt’s what I do b