The Secret Son's Homecoming

J.D. nodded. “I know.”

“But you still keep coming back for more of the same?” He shook his head. “I don’t understand it.”

J.D. placed his big hands on the counter. “Well, I’m hoping that one day, you just might.”

Jonah ignored the odd sensation suddenly seeping through his blood. He didn’t want to spend time with J.D. He didn’t want to waste time listening to platitudes about fathers and sons.

“I’ve gotta go,” he said and fished his car keys from his pocket, thinking he’d had just about enough wedding nonsense and happy family time for one day. He needed the solitude of his apartment. Well, technically it was Kieran’s apartment, but he’d been bunking there off and on since his mother had moved back to Cedar River. Sometimes he stayed at the hotel, but with J.D. now in residence there, the less time he spent at O’Sullivans, the better.

Jonah left the room and headed outside. He offered a quick goodbye to the bride and groom, knowing it was bad form to leave the ceremony before they did, and tried to shake off the guilt he felt as he drove home. The huge Victorian house, which had been split into several apartments, greeted him with the kind of quiet, uncomplicated seclusion he favored. Okay...so maybe that was a stretch. It wasn’t as though he longed for his own company. He’d always had a circle of friends and coworkers and socialized as much as the next person. In Portland he still had a few close friends from college and enjoyed their company. But regularly visiting South Dakota had been a no-brainer. He wasn’t about to let his mother wade through her past without him close at hand. She needed him. He had a spacious and modern apartment in Portland, a vast contrast with the old-fashioned Victorian, with its shuttered windows and mix of old and new furnishings. Before Kieran had leased the place, it had been Kayla’s home. Sometimes he felt stifled by the familial connection to the apartment, but it was convenient and the rent was reasonable.

Once he got home, Jonah ditched the suit, took a shower, changed into jeans, a sweater and lined jacket, pulled on his boots, made coffee and headed outside onto the small terrace. Tomorrow was Sunday and he planned on visiting his mother, but before that he had to drop by the hotel to catch up with Liam about the proposed extension plans for the local museum and art gallery. Kayla was the curator and Liam had provided most of the funding for the council-approved extension. Jonah knew he’d been offered the contract to solidify the family connection...but it was good business and he was no fool.

Once he finished the coffee, Jonah went back inside, grabbed a beer from the fridge and slumped onto the sofa. He grabbed the remote, flicked through a few channels and settled on a NASCAR event. The mindless drone of engines relaxed him and he settled back, perched his feet on the coffee table and dropped his head back and closed his eyes. He had the vague thought that he was done with weddings for a while. He’d never had any interest in getting married himself—at least, not yet. He’d never had a long-term relationship—no doubt a hang-up from his father’s lack of commitment to his wife and the double life he’d led for the past thirty years.

When he woke up it was two in the morning. He had a crick in his neck, the beer was untouched on the table and the neighbor’s cat was curled up on the sofa beside him. The damned feline often sneaked in and made himself comfortable on Jonah’s sofa, bed or lap. He belonged to the elderly woman in the downstairs apartment and was notorious for getting into trouble. Jonah had already rescued the cat twice when he’d gotten caught on top of the gazebo in the backyard.

Jonah got up, stretched out his limbs and then headed to bed. When he finally awoke it was past eight and he drank two cups of strong coffee to clear the fuzziness in his head, a feeling he blamed on the half a glass of celebratory wine he’d sipped at the reception and the resentment still churning in his gut. He dressed, made toast he didn’t eat and then headed into town.

Sunday mornings in Cedar River were quiet, except for the tourists milling at the few open coffeehouses and the bakery on Main Street. Of course, the hotel was open, and he pulled into a reserved space next to his brother’s recognizable Silverado. He drove a sedan when he was in town, mostly to annoy J.D., who insisted he needed an SUV and kept offering to buy him one to replace the Jeep Jonah had sold the minute he’d started college. Jonah headed for the main doors and the concierge greeted him by name. His connection to the O’Sullivan family was known around town and he couldn’t deny it at the hotel. Still, as he walked through the place, he experienced a familiar and acute sense of dishonor about who and what he was. It was J.D.’s shame, but in Cedar River, he always felt as though he wore it like a cattle brand.

The hotel was impressive and luxurious and as good as any found in a large city. It employed dozens of locals and the service was exemplary, no doubt due to Liam being at the helm. Apparently he’d turned the place around in the last five years, developing it into a true boutique destination, and it was hard not to admire his half brother’s business acumen.

Jonah strode across the lobby and caught the elevator to the third floor and the private suite of offices. He used his swipe card to reach the top floor. Liam’s office took up a significant section, plus there were several suites kept available for family and a few corporate offices and a conference room.

He walked through the front office and spotted Connie sitting at her desk, her head bent, her fingers flicking quickly over the computer keyboard.

“It’s Sunday,” he said and stopped. “Since when do you work on Sunday?”

She looked up, her face expressionless, and clearly expecting to see him. “Liam had to step out for a bit. He’ll be back in about twenty minutes.” She got up and came around the desk, a folder in her hands. “He asked if you could look over this while you wait. You can go into his office.”

Jonah stayed where he was. She wore jeans and a bright red shirt, tucked in at the waist, with a sparkly belt and bright blue cowboy boots. Her hair was down, moving over her shoulders as she walked, and it struck him that this was the first time he’d seen her with her hair that way. It was always up in a professional braid or like the fancy style she’d had at the wedding. And the clothes... He’d only ever seen her in her corporate suit and jacket or an evening dress. But today she looked casual and young and more beautiful than he’d ever seen her before. Her face was free of makeup and he spotted a row of freckles across the bridge of her nose.

Damn. Freckles. Something kerneled in his chest, a heavy feeling he didn’t like, and he realized what it was. Attraction. But since she was regarding him with contempt and undisguised impatience, Jonah also felt like a first-rate fool.

She’d made her thoughts abundantly clear that night ten months ago. He’d been at the bar downstairs, looking for solace and a way to purge the rage pounding through his blood. She’d been alone at a booth, staring into a club soda. He knew who she was. He’d met her that first time he’d accompanied his mother to Cedar River when she’d returned to see her family after thirty years away from the small town. Liam’s secret marriage to Kayla had been the catalyst for Kathleen’s return, and Jonah wasn’t about to allow her to face everyone without him. What he hadn’t bargained on was Connie Bedford. He had recognized an instant attraction.

Jonah knew enough about women to home in on sexual chemistry. So, that night, they’d talked for a while. And when the talking stopped and they both clearly knew where things were heading, he invited her to his room and she agreed. Outside, before he could pull the key card from his wallet, she’d leaned in toward him and he’d kissed her. Softly at first, because her lips had been so damned inviting he’d wanted to savor every moment. And then desire took over and he kissed her with so much passion it had almost dropped him to his knees. Within minutes they were in his room and on his bed. It had been hot and heavy, and he couldn’t remember a time when he’d wanted a woman so much—until she put the brakes on, which had acted like a bucket of ice water on his libido.

Of course, he’d stopped, immediately. But he’d also been wound up and frustrated by his inability to get her to confide in him when something was so obviously bothering her. He wasn’t usually that guy. Sure, his relationships had always been casual, but he always treated women with respect and restraint and courtesy.

Until Connie Bedford.

He’d been rude and unpleasant, stung less by her sudden rejection than the lack of explanation, and his manners hadn’t improved since. She was under his skin. Being around her pushed all his buttons...physical and emotional. He couldn’t explain or understand it, since they barely knew one another. But he knew she disapproved of his behavior and his feelings toward the O’Sullivans, and the fact that she kindled that spark of shame within him when even his mother couldn’t irritated him down to the very blood in his bones.

Jonah took the folder and noticed that Connie seemed...uncomfortable. Her gaze kept slipping toward the door, almost as though... “Am I making you nervous?”

Her gaze jerked upward. “Of course not.”

“You seem nervous being alone with me. You keep looking to see if your boss is coming.”

“Caffeine withdrawal,” she said and crossed her arms. “I’m trying to give up coffee, but I can smell it from the kitchen.” She was so clearly lying to him—and he was instantly compelled to try to put her at ease.

“Why would you want to do that?” he inquired. “Coffee is one of life’s guilty pleasures.”

“My goal is to give up all the things that are bad for me. Coffee is on the list.”

“What else is on your list?” he asked, picking up the scent of her flowery perfume and feeling it spike through his blood like wildfire.

“You.”

He laughed, both aroused and amused by her candor. “I don’t think I’ve ever been on a list before.”

“Ten bucks says you have.”

He laughed again and realized he did that a lot around Connie. She was so effortlessly attractive, and he pushed back the urge to reach out and touch her hair, her cheek. It wouldn’t be appropriate, considering their history. They might have chemistry, but it was so much more than that because something about her affected him on a primal level. He couldn’t work it out. Sure, she was pretty, but there was an earnestness about Connie that was refreshing and intoxicating and made him—foolishly—want to get to know her better. Somehow, she made him think that she’d be a good friend. Which was crazy, because he had several female friends back in Portland and he didn’t want to take any of them to bed.

“Why are you really working today?” he asked.

She shrugged and moved back around the desk. “Just catching up on a few things.”

“And you still don’t think they take advantage of you?”

Her mouth thinned. “Maybe I’m one of those people who like being needed. You should try it sometime...doing something for someone without a motive.”

Her dig had pinpoint accuracy. “I’m not completely selfish.”

“If you weren’t you’d know that every time you call your father J.D. it hurts his feelings terribly.”

Jonah stiffened. “I have my reasons.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “Selfish ones.”

“You don’t know anything about it.”

“Actually,” she corrected, “I know quite a bit. We doormats tend to hear everyone’s tale of woe.”

Jonah’s stomach rolled. “I shouldn’t have called you that. I’m sorry.”

“Wow, an apology. I bet that makes your teeth hurt.”

“A bit,” he admitted. “But I generally don’t have to apologize for my behavior, since my behavior is usually very civilized.”

“Are you saying I bring out the worst in you?”

“You bring out something,” he admitted rawly. “But I’m not quite sure what it is. I think I find your complete and utter faith in the O’Sullivans a mystery. And damned irritating.”

“Haven’t you ever looked up to and admired someone?”