The Prodigal's Christmas Reunion

Lucas’s throat tightened, preventing him from responding.

Not that he even knew how to respond.

For the past few months, he’d provided the little boy with food and shelter. The basic necessities. What he hadn’t been able to give Max Cahill was the thing he needed the most. His parents.

What were you thinking, Scott?

His former college roommate hadn’t been. That was the problem. Scott’s addictions had led him down a path that had ultimately cost him his life—and if Lucas hadn’t stepped in, the life of an innocent child.

Max lifted his arms toward Lucas and grinned. “We gettin’ out now?”

Lucas shook his head. They’d been on the road for more than forty-eight hours and yet his pint-size passenger, who recently turned four, somehow managed to display a more cheerful disposition than the driver.

“Yup. We’re getting out now.”

“French fries?” Max stifled a yawn even as his eyes brightened with hope.

“I can’t make any promises, buddy.” And there we have it, Lucas thought. Another one of his flaws exposed.

A raw December wind stung Lucas’s face as he hopped out of the truck cab. The crisp temperatures and falling snow felt almost surreal after traipsing through the Florida Everglades, dodging the men who had killed Scott Cahill. Unbuckling the booster seat, he scooped Max into his arms, blankets and all.

The boy burrowed against him and Lucas felt a familiar burst of panic. The one that gripped him whenever Max turned to him for comfort.

Lucas anchored Max against his chest with one arm while fishing for the spare house key his mom always stashed behind the mailbox. Before he had a chance to slide it into the lock, the porch light came on.

He had only a second to react before the front door swung open and a petite, dark haired whirlwind launched herself at him.

“Lucas! You’re home.”

“Home,” came a muffled chirp from inside the cocoon of blankets.

Mei’s astonished gaze dropped to the quilt. Lucas could see the question in his adopted sister’s ebony eyes and knew exactly what she was thinking.

He’d given Jack McCord, his sister’s new love who’d tracked him down in Florida, permission to offer the family an abbreviated version of what he’d gone through to retrieve Max from the thugs who’d snatched him away from his dying father during a drug deal gone bad. But judging from the expression on Mei’s face, they had expected Lucas to return to Clayton alone.

And why wouldn’t they? an inner voice mocked him.

He’d been MIA for years, communicating with his family through emails and the occasional phone call. That way, he stayed in control of the relationships.

It was a little unsettling to admit that maybe, just maybe, he and Grandpa George had something in common other than their DNA.

“Hey, Erin, I’m supposed to let you know that we’re getting a little low on ground beef…”

Erin Fields jumped at the sound of a voice behind her.

She pasted on a smile to cover the guilty look on her face before turning around to face Kylie Jones. Which was a little ridiculous, given the fact that it wasn’t a crime to be caught putting on your coat.

Unless it was the middle of the day.

And your name was Erin Fields.

Kylie zeroed in on the coat clutched in her hands. And then her gaze shifted to the clock on the wall.

“The lunch crowd is thinning out so I thought I’d leave early,” Erin explained.

“You’re leaving. Early.” The waitress repeated, her green eyes widening in disbelief.

Maybe because Erin never left early. As the owner of the café, she was the first one to arrive in the morning and the last one to leave at night.

“Only a few hours.” Erin winced at the defensiveness that crept into her tone.

She never got defensive, either.

Kylie tipped her head. The movement sent a tumble of light brown curls over one shoulder. “Is everything all right?” she asked hesitantly. “You’ve been a little…distracted…lately.”

Lately being the past forty-eight hours, Erin thought. And if pressed, she could take it a step further and pinpoint the exact moment it had started. When she’d overheard a customer casually mention that Lucas Clayton was back in town.

As much as Erin had both dreamed of and dreaded the possibility of that happening, nothing had prepared her for the reality.

Lucas. In Clayton. For a year.

Erin knew all about the conditions of George Sr.’s will.

It had been the talk of the town since July. One by one, the Clayton cousins had returned to their roots—all except Lucas.

Every time the bells above the door of the café jingled, Erin’s nerves would jingle right along with them. It didn’t matter that the logical side of her brain knew he wouldn’t seek her out. When it came to Lucas Clayton, the hopeful side had always prevailed.

Which proved she still hadn’t learned her lesson.

Which, in turn, made her pathetic.

Harboring feelings for a guy who’d claimed to be in love with her—and then left without a backward glance.

Erin was tempted to confide in Kylie, but even now, after all these years, it felt as if she would be breaking a promise. At Lucas’s request they’d kept their high-school romance a secret from friends and family. He’d claimed he didn’t want his reputation to cast a shadow on her and Erin had reluctantly agreed, afraid her mother wouldn’t approve of her dating that “wild Clayton boy.”

Even when the truth about their relationship would have squelched the malicious rumor that Vincent Clayton, Lucas’s cousin, had started about him and Susie Tansley, Lucas had held Erin to that promise. That’s when she’d started to wonder if there was another reason he had insisted on keeping their relationship a secret. A reason that had more to do with his being ashamed of her than some of the things he’d done…

Kylie snapped her fingers two inches from Erin’s nose. “See what I mean? Distracted.”

“I’m fine. Really.” Even as she said the words, Erin wondered who she was trying to convince. Kylie? Or herself? “It’s Diamond I’m worried about. She seemed a little agitated this morning before I left for work, and she’s due to drop her foal any day now. I’d feel better if I checked on her.” It was the truth—and a legitimate reason to escape the memories pressing down on her.

“You’re such a softie.” Kylie chuckled. “You treat those animals of yours like children.”

Erin knew her friend was teasing but the words still stung. She was twenty-five years old. Her friends were either engaged or already married and starting a family, something she’d always dreamed of.

With Lucas.

Stop.