The Secret Son's Homecoming

If she didn’t know better, she could have sworn that he was actually jealous. But that made no sense. They were nothing to one another. “Beside the fact that he’s married and that Kayla and your brother are very happy together, Liam is my boss. And my friend. But since you probably don’t have any friends, I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

Now he laughed, a soft, deeply resonant chuckle that affected her deep down. She hated that he could do that. In fact, she despised everything about him, deciding that sexual attraction definitely had nothing to do with actually liking someone.

“Have I pushed a button?”

“I wouldn’t let you close enough to push my buttons.”

“Now, we both know that’s not entirely true,” he said quietly, his dark hair shining beneath the light, his blue eyes glittering brilliantly.

“You’re insufferable,” she said in a huff. “If you must know, that night was completely out of character for me. I’d had a bad day and decided to have a drink after work. I didn’t expect to see you at the bar. And then one thing led to another and...well...you know the rest.”

“You mean the part where you sprinted to my room?”

Heat infused her cheeks. “I would hardly call it a sprint. Anyway, you weren’t exactly difficult to convince.”

“I thought a beautiful woman wanted me to make love to her,” he said quietly, his voice as seductive as a caress. “I’m not made of stone, despite what you may think.”

All Connie could think was the fact that he’d just said she was beautiful. The words rattled around in her head with the deafening power of a freight train. She’d never considered herself beautiful. Well groomed, maybe, with nice hair and an average build...but knowing Jonah thought she was beautiful made her belly roll over and over.

“I don’t think you’re made of stone,” she said and shrugged. “It’s only that sometimes you can be so...so infuriating.”

“Part of my charm.”

“You’re not charming,” she assured him.

“Not like Liam, eh?”

She made an impatient sound. “Would you stop inferring that I have feelings for your brother? Because I don’t.”

“Prove it,” he challenged. “Criticize him.”

She scowled. “I’m not going to play stupid games to help inflate your ego.”

“My ego is rock solid,” he said. “It needs to be around you, Miss Bedford.”

Connie didn’t miss the insinuation—or his return to formality. “If it’s any consolation, it wouldn’t have mattered whose room I was in that night...the outcome would have been the same. I’m only thankful that it was someone as rational and considerate as you. I guess it could have ended very differently if I’d been with someone else.”

His gaze narrowed. “Is that a compliment?”

She shrugged. “An observation.”

“No means no,” he said quietly. “Always. There are no half measures when it comes to a person’s choice about who they sleep with.”

Connie’s suspicions were confirmed. Despite the rude way he’d dismissed her that night, he had integrity. No means no. Such a simple statement had more meaning to her than he could ever understand.

“I don’t sleep around. I don’t have one-night stands. I’m a boring, stay-at-home girl who likes to read romantic novels and curl up on the couch with my dogs.”

“I figured you’d be a cat person.”

She relaxed a fraction. “Nope. Four dogs. And a goldfish.”

“No boyfriend?”

“No,” she replied, stunned that he’d asked her something so personal. “You?”

His mouth twisted. “I like girls.”

Connie chuckled. “I meant, no girlfriend?”

“Haven’t we already established that I came to this wedding stag? Remember how I forgot to RSVP?”

“I thought you did that simply to stick it to the O’Sullivans,” she suggested. “You know, to prove that they don’t own you.”

His mouth curled at the edges. “I really do have a bad reputation.”

“Yes,” she said. “You do.”

“You know, Connie, I’m not all bad.”

The way he unexpectedly said her name again made her toes curl. He had seduction imprinted in his DNA, she was certain. “Time will tell, I suppose. And I really need to get back to the party.”

“Hoping to catch the bouquet?”

Her breath hiked up. “No. Have to give the band their final payment.”

“So, doing O’Sullivan bidding right until the end?”

Her temper quickly returned. “Doing my job. See you later. Or not at all. Either would suit me just fine.”

By the time she made it back down the hallway, Connie had slowed down her breathing and calmed her nerves. Other than that crazy night, it was the longest and most in-depth conversation she’d had with him in ten months. He tried so hard not to fit in with his family, when the truth was that he was actually more like them than he’d ever admit. Particularly Liam and J.D., who were both confident and self-assured and strong. Jonah possessed those qualities in spades. And something else...an aura of don’t mess with me arrogance that, rather than having her running for hills, was sexy and thrilling and somehow a powerful turn-on. She secretly liked that about him, that he didn’t roll over and do what was expected. While her allegiance would always be with the O’Sullivans, she admired his determination not to take the easy route and try to fit in without complaint. Of course, her feelings were illogical. He openly resisted getting close to his family and her loyalty to them made it impossible for her to excuse his behavior.

But her dreams were a different story. In them, she could want him without explanation. She could watch as he slew dragons with his indifference and determination to remain aloof and apart from the people with whom he shared blood and birthright.

I’ve read way too many romantic novels.

But didn’t every woman have the right to fall for a Heathcliff every now and then?

It wasn’t as though he was marriage material. It was a fantasy. A secret longing for a man who possessed brooding sexiness in abundance, and probably had ice water in his veins. And Connie tended to doubt she’d ever get married, anyhow. Maybe marriage wasn’t in her makeup. She’d become a career woman through necessity and felt safe in her cocoon of work, home, friends...and the O’Sullivans. Working at the hotel since she was sixteen had shaped her path; being Liam’s assistant for the past five years and working for J.D. before that had given her purpose and strength and empowerment—everything she’d so desperately needed. Jonah was wrong—she wasn’t a doormat. She did everything with a measure of control and commitment, obliging others because that was her choice.

My choice to say yes.

My choice to say no.

Survivor’s code, ingrained into the very fiber of her soul. Without it, she would have frayed at the seams until there was nothing left of who she’d been before that terrible day when her life had irrevocably changed.

“What are you doing, hiding out in here?”

Connie swiveled on her heels, realizing she’d ended up in the kitchen and that J. D. O’Sullivan was hanging out behind the countertop, drinking what appeared to be antacid. A lot of people considered him to be loud and blustery and arrogant—and perhaps he was—but Connie also knew he was compassionate and generous and kind, even if he didn’t always allow the world to see it. He had a reputation for speaking his mind and had no tolerance for fools. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Yes, Jonah Rickard was more like his father than he would ever willingly admit.