The Secret Son's Homecoming

by Helen Lacey

  She found herself nodding vaguely, grabbed her tote and quickly got out of the car, noticing that he didn’t drive off until she was safely on the porch, with the dogs jumping and yapping around her.

  Connie felt as though she’d suddenly stepped into her own private fairy tale.

  But she couldn’t possibly do it. She’d promised herself that she would put an end to any foolish fantasizing about Jonah. Because he’d made it clear what he wanted. The endgame was sex. She’d turned him down ten months ago, bruised his ego, and now he wanted to even the score. Which meant there was no way in hell she was going on a date with him.

  But through the haze of sensibleness and rational reasoning, Connie was feeling something else as well. Anticipation. Because it didn’t matter how much time she spent on denials or self-reflection, the outcome was always the same. For some unfathomable reason, despite knowing that he was intolerant and judgmental and refused to accept his place within the O’Sullivan family, Connie was inexplicably drawn toward Jonah. Mostly, her life was about the hotel, her friends and her dogs. Romance took a back seat. Sure, she went on the occasional date, but that was usually as far as it went. But Jonah was different. Jonah was exciting. He made her feel more alive than she had felt before. And despite her good sense telling her that she should refuse his dinner invitation, Connie was tempted. It was just dinner. Maybe a light flirtation. A kiss or two. She could handle that. All she had to do was work out a way to deal with her budding feelings.

  Without getting her heart well and truly broken.

  Chapter Four

  Jonah had one motive for returning to Cedar River the following Friday.

  Connie.

  He ditched work early Friday and took a four-and-a-half-hour flight, followed by a forty-minute cab ride from Rapid City to the small town, which meant it was nearly six when he pulled up outside the old Victorian. He showered, changed, checked his emails and then left to pick up Connie.

  He arrived at her house at five to seven, and as he walked to her front door, he realized he was uncharacteristically nervous. He rapped twice and waited, hearing the scramble of countless paws over floorboards and a cacophony of loud barking before the door swung back. Her dogs were at her side, standing behind the screen as she shushed them.

  “Sorry about that,” she said. “They go a little nuts when they hear anyone at the door.”

  Jonah looked down and the smallest of the trio, a mean-looking black-and-white terrier, growled low in its throat. He managed a smile. “I’m glad you’re well protected.” He glanced up and down, taking in her knee-length blue dress and heeled boots, and his gut clenched. “You look pretty.”

  “Dancing shoes,” she said and pointed to her feet as she opened the storm door. “Although we’ve already established that I can’t dance.”

  Jonah grinned. “That’s the point. You ready to go?”

  She nodded, slipped on her coat, pulled a bag over her shoulder and locked the screen, making reassuring noises to the dogs as she closed the door. “All set.”

  Jonah automatically pressed a supportive hand to the small of her back as they headed down the steps, and she jerked slightly. “Sorry,” he said and dropped his hand.

  She shrugged. “It’s fine. I just haven’t been on a date in while.”

  “Me, either,” he admitted, opening the gate so they could step onto the sidewalk.

  “So where are we going?” she asked once they were buckled up in his Lexus. “I’m guessing O’Sullivans?”

  “No,” he replied and turned the ignition. “I promised you dancing, remember?”

  She chuckled. “You’ll be sorry.”

  Jonah laughed and realized his stomach was no longer churning. She had a way of doing that...a way of steadying his demeanor. As they drove through town, she chatted about the hotel and his mother and asked him about his week. Jonah replied in monosyllables, content to hear her speak, finding her voice relaxed him. He’d foolishly been anxious all week, thinking about seeing her again. A part of him had expected her to call and cancel—or, worse, to shut the door in his face when he’d arrived on her doorstep.

  “I should have brought you flowers,” he said, almost talking to himself.

  “Oh...so this is a real date?”

  “Of course,” he said, looking straight ahead. “Were you expecting something else?”

  He almost heard her shrug. “I don’t have any expectations. Just know that, despite how my previous behavior might suggest something to the contrary,” she said and took a shallow breath, “I’m not...easy.”

  “I know that. And for the record,” he said as he took the highway route and began the twenty-six-mile drive to their destination, “if I was only interested in getting laid I could have stayed in Portland, gone out with friends to a nightclub and picked up someone who was.”

  She made a sound—like a disapproving huff mixed with a surprised gasp—and then spoke. “Do you think you’re that irresistible?”

  Jonah’s mouth twisted. “Not at all. But these days, casual sex isn’t hard to find, if that’s all you’re after.”

  “Which makes it sound as though it’s something you do regularly,” she remarked tightly.

  “No,” he replied quickly. “I don’t.”

  She clutched her bag in her lap. “I’m glad to hear it. But I’m still not going to sleep with you tonight.”

  “Okay,” he said and heard her relax.

  “And you’re fine with that?” she asked, glancing at him for a moment. “I mean...isn’t that why you asked me out and—”

  “I’m fine with that,” he cut her off quietly. “It’s your decision.”

  She sighed. “Okay...thank you.”

  “You sound like you expected a different answer.”

  “I’m not sure what I expect when it comes to you.”

  Jonah laughed softly. “I think that’s a compliment...right?”

  “I’m not sure,” she said. “You confuse me. I mean, most of the time you’re unbearable. But then, other times, you’re actually quite reasonable.”

  “Reasonable?”

  “Likable,” she said quietly. “I don’t know...sort of...sweet.”

  “Sweet?”

  She chuckled. “Okay, maybe that’s a stretch. But you can’t really be as awful as everyone thinks, right? I mean, you’re very nice to your mom.”

  “She’s my mother,” he said mildly. “Of course I’m nice to her.”

  “Not everyone gets along with their parents, believe me.”

  He heard the pain in her voice, and it made his insides crunch up. “Are your folks that bad?”

  “No,” she replied. “But they were never interested in being parents. They were always focused on their careers, and I was a distraction they didn’t want or need.”

  “You must hate them.”

  “Not at all,” she said, twisting the handle of her tote. “I don’t believe in hate.”

  “Hate’s an emotion. Human beings feel emotions. You can’t deny that hate exists.”

  “I’m not,” she said quickly. “Put it this way—I don’t allow hate into my life. Or rage. Or anger. Or despair. It’s feels like a waste of emotional energy.”

  Jonah was intrigued by her words. “So, you’ve never been angry? Never hated anyone?”

  “I didn’t say that,” she replied. “Sure, when I was younger, sometimes I did experience those things. But now I choose to live a different sort of life.”

  “That’s a very controlled view of things.”

  “That’s me,” she said quietly. “Always in control. Unlike you, someone at the mercy of their emotions.”

  Jonah laughed out loud. “Seriously? That’s what you think? What happened to my reputation as a cold, unfeeling—”

  “That’s your disguise,” she said, cutting him off. “I
’ve seen you with the two people you care about most—your mom and dad.”

  Jonah almost brought the car to a screeching halt on the shoulder. He gripped the steering wheel and concentrated on the road ahead. “I don’t care about J.D.”

  “Sure you do,” she answered flippantly. “Love and hate—sometimes they’re not so different.”

  “Psychoanalysis 101. I didn’t realize you sidelined as a shrink.”

  “I went to...” Her words trailed off and she took a breath. “I know a little about it.”

  “That’s reassuring.”

  She laughed softly. “You really are impossible sometimes. I can’t imagine how much energy it takes to be so obnoxious. You know, if you were more pleasant, you’d make more friends.”

  “I have enough friends,” he said and eased into the right lane, preparing to exit the highway.

  “Your mom told me you’ve never had a serious relationship.”

  “Did she?” he shot back. “Clearly she talks too much. We’re here,” he said as he took the exit and headed in the parking area of their destination.

  “The honky-tonk place?” she inquired, leaning forward in her seat as he parked the car, staring at the huge restaurant, which had been built to resemble an old saloon, with a wraparound porch and shuttered windows. “I’ve heard about it. The girls have been saying we should—”

  “The girls?” he asked, as he unclipped his seat belt.

  “Nicola and Annie, a friend of mine. The restaurant is giving O’Sullivans a run for its money.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t really know what goes on at the hotel. Although I’m sure Liam’s head is spinning at the idea of some competition...even if it is nearly thirty miles away.”

  He was out of the car in a few seconds and came around to the passenger side just as she was stepping out onto the gravel. Her perfume swirled around them, mixing with the cool night air like a seductive tonic. She looked so beautiful in her dress and woolen coat, and Jonah resisted the urge to haul her into his arms and kiss her. The truth was, he’d thought about little else for the past week. The taste of her lips was a sweet memory and he couldn’t shake the idea. He wanted her. In his arms. In his bed.

  “You look really pretty. I’m not sure if I said that already.”

  She glanced up and met his gaze as he closed the door and locked the car. “Um...you did. But I like hearing it.”

  Heat clawed at his skin. Without even trying, Connie could make him feel about sixteen.

  “Let’s go.”

  The place was busy, filled with cowboys, cowgirls and a seven-piece band belting out country tunes. Not Jonah’s taste at all, since he was more of a classic rock fan, but he noticed that Connie was tapping her toe as they waited to be seated and figured he’d picked right, hoping that she liked country music.

  “Not too much?” he asked as a waitress decked out in red gingham outfit walked past carrying a tray loaded with barbecued ribs and hot sauce.

  She smiled. “Nope. And I’m hungry.”

  He returned the smile, enjoying that she was clearly in a good mood, and relaxed a little more. He was happy that she wasn’t tense or looking like she wanted to be somewhere else.

  “I wasn’t sure you’d come tonight,” he remarked as they were shown to their table.

  She slipped off her coat and draped it over the back of the chair and then sat. “I didn’t really have a choice, did I?”

  “You always have a choice with me,” he replied.

  She met his gaze straight on. “That means a lot.”

  He wasn’t sure why it would. Maybe she was just fiercely independent and liked to do things in her own time and way. Still, there was something about Connie that fueled his protective mode. It wasn’t weakness...more like a vulnerability simmering below the surface. A vulnerability she didn’t want anyone to see. But Jonah saw it and felt it. And somehow, knowing she was allowing him into that part of herself scared him to death.

  * * *

  Connie knew she was getting in way over her head. But damn... Jonah looked so handsome and sexy in his dark suit and white shirt and she was, she’d discovered, foolishly susceptible to his charms. During the past week she’d thought of every reason why she shouldn’t go out with him, and in the sensible part of her brain, every reason made perfect sense. Even Liam had warned her off in his own way, making some off-the-cuff comment about Jonah being the most disagreeable human on the planet. But she didn’t really agree with him. Sure, she and Jonah were different. He could be an arrogant jerk sometimes. And she knew it wouldn’t—couldn’t—really go anywhere. The truth was, she’d labored on the idea for a week, avoiding Liam’s comments about his brother, confiding only in Annie, leaving out the part about that night in his hotel room all those months ago. By Friday around lunchtime she’d talked herself out of going.

  But still, once she got home that afternoon, she’d found herself sorting through her wardrobe and looking for something to wear. Including dancing shoes.

  Idiot.

  Going on a date with Jonah Rickard was her dumbest move yet. All he’d had to do was turn up on time and tell her how nice she looked and she was done for. And she liked the fact that he hadn’t settled for a predictably intimate dinner at O’Sullivan’s for their first official date. The honky-tonk, a crowded and rowdy place filled with cowboys, marinated ribs, checkered shirts and country music, was exactly the opposite of what she had expected, or what she was used to. Usually she was taken to quiet, respectable establishments because her dates always assumed that suited her personality. However, the truth was, she liked country music, horses, cowboy boots, battered fries and thick steaks covered in gravy. Perhaps because it was the complete opposite of how she appeared during her usual working day—with her corporate suit, tightly upswept hairstyle and sensible patent heels.

  She liked that he knew her well enough to figure she was more than simply a woman in a suit.

  “Thank you for bringing me here,” she said once their drink order had been taken. “It was an unexpected surprise.”

  His expression softened. “My pleasure.”

  “You even reserved a table.”

  “Of course,” he replied. “Have your past dates been so disastrous?”

  Connie laughed softly. “Not all of them. Although there was this one guy last year who bailed halfway through because he got a text from his ex.”

  Jonah’s brows shot upward. “You’re not serious.”

  “Yep. Left before dessert. At least he paid the check on the way out.”

  “Chivalry is alive and well, then,” he said wryly and glanced at the menu. “Although he sounds like a real jerk.” Jonah met her gaze. “He’d have to be to leave you alone in a restaurant.”

  Connie’s insides clenched. “So, I was right, you are sweet.”

  His mouth curled at the edges. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever been called that before.”

  “Except by your mom,” she remarked and sipped her wine spritzer and grinned. “She calls you sweetie.”

  “You remember that?”

  Connie nodded. “She loves you a lot. It’s nice. And makes me a little envious.”

  The waitress returned and took their meal order, and once the other woman was gone, Jonah spoke again. “I’m sure your parents care about you.”

  She shrugged, blinking back the heat suddenly burning behind her eyes. “I suppose they do, in their own way.”

  “How long since you’ve seen them?”

  “Three years,” she replied quietly.

  “Since your grandmother’s funeral?” he suggested.

  Connie stared at him, realizing it was the first time anyone had really noticed that fact. Not that she talked about her parents to anyone in any great depth—not even her closest friend, Annie. But she was startled that he’d picked up on the correlation be
tween her absent parents and the loss of her much-loved grandmother.

  She nodded. “They prefer to be in a tent on the edge of some excavation site in a foreign country than in Cedar River. Once Nan passed away, I guess they stopped thinking they had any reason to return.”

  “Except you?” he queried and then spoke again before she could respond. “Do you have any other family?”

  She shrugged again. “My mother wasn’t from here, so her attachment isn’t very strong. Her parents were from Wyoming and died years ago. She has a brother in Cheyenne, so I have a few cousins who live around there, although a Christmas card is about as connected as we are to each other. And my dad is an only child like me. I have a great-aunt who was a teacher at some private school in Boise. She never married or had kids. So, there you have it...my meager family tree. Do you feel sorry for me now?”

  “Not especially,” he replied. “I don’t think pity is quite your style.”

  He was so right she was stunned. “It’s not. I’m far too independent. Sure, I would have liked to have a sibling or two...but I’m not one to pine after what I don’t have.”

  “Siblings are overrated,” he said and sipped the imported beer he’d ordered.

  “Easy for you to say,” she shot back. “You have a bunch of brothers.”

  “Half brothers,” he corrected.

  Connie’s spine straightened. “It’s really infuriating the way you do that.”

  He shrugged lightly. “I’m not going to pretend they mean more to me than they do.”

  “I don’t think you should,” she replied. “But you could give them a chance. And yes,” she said before he could speak. “I know you’ve made the occasional effort, like helping Kieran and Nicola design that pond in her backyard. And I know you went to Gwen’s birthday party even though every instinct you possess probably screamed for you to stay away, but since you admire Gwen, you went anyway.”

  He shrugged lightly. “It was the polite thing to do.”

  She nodded. “Yes, you’re right. So I know you have tried...or maybe it’s more about taking the path of least resistance. Then again, I wouldn’t peg you as someone who would choose the easy road.”