by Helen Lacey
He chuckled. “You have me.”
Connie’s insides lurched. Because his words were suggestive and provocative, and for a few crazy seconds she wished they were true. But she was terrified of where that might lead. Jonah was not the kind of man a woman could dismiss and forget. Jonah was the kind of man who broke hearts...even if he didn’t mean to.
She shifted the subject, asking him about his work, and he answered her questions, adding in a few anecdotes about his life in Oregon. The more he spoke, the deeper she was drawn in, resting her chin on the back of her hand, listening intently, eager to catch every word. There was nothing moody or arrogant about him in that moment. He was pleasant and friendly and funny and nice. It occurred to Connie that despite how much he tried to hide it, she was seeing who he really was. A side of himself he didn’t often show in Cedar River.
Once their meals arrived, they stopped talking for a while, except for Jonah’s comment about her pile of marinated ribs. She glanced at the grilled fish he’d ordered and wrinkled up her nose.
“City boy,” she said and grinned, picking up a sticky rib.
He laughed. “Watch your fingers.”
“I’m an expert at barbecued ribs,” she announced. “And pizza. What about you?”
“Chopsticks.”
“Show-off,” she said and then ate.
By the time they were done with their meal, close to an hour had passed. Connie learned that Jonah rarely ate red meat, that he was allergic to pineapple and loved ice cream. He admitted to being a lousy cook and told her about the cat that somehow managed to find a way into the apartment when he stayed there.
“Sounds like you’ve made another friend in Cedar River,” she said when the waitress took their plates away. “The cat obviously likes you.”
“Another friend?”
She shrugged. “Well, I haven’t quite put you into the friends category yet. But you’re growing on me.”
“Like a fungus?” he suggested, a smile crinkling his mouth.
“You heard about that?” she asked, remembering how she’d made that comparison about him to his brother and Nicola a few weeks earlier.
“I heard,” he said and smiled. “Kieran thought it was hilarious.”
Heat burned her cheeks. “Sorry.”
He smiled again. “I can take a little criticism, particularly when I’ve behaved badly enough to deserve it.”
Compassion surged through her veins. “It must have been hard coming to this town and confronting everyone.”
“It was,” he replied. “Sometimes it still is. But that first time I wasn’t about to let my mom turn up and face it alone. She wanted her brother and J.D. to make peace, and for the sake of Liam and Kayla’s marriage, believed the only way she could do that was to come home and deal with it all in person.”
Connie rested her elbows on the table. “Do you hate them as much as you make out?”
“Yes.”
She sucked in a breath. “Oh, well, I—”
“And no,” he added and shrugged. “Most of the time I try not to think about it. But they don’t let me off the hook so easily. Particularly Liam and Kieran.”
“You’re their brother, so it’s natural that they want to have some sort of relationship with you.”
He sat back in his seat. “It should be easy, right? But it’s not.”
“Because you’re stubborn?”
“You could call me that, I suppose.”
There was a sudden noise, like glass breaking, and then raised voices, and Connie’s instincts surged into overdrive, making her feel things she didn’t want to feel. Long-buried feelings that she tried to keep at bay. Like fear. At one end of the bar, she spotted a group of rowdy cowboys who were causing a scene with a couple of the waitresses. The bartender had moved around the counter; a tall, well-built man she suspected was the restaurant manager quickly harnessed the group and the rowdy men quieted down immediately.
“Are you okay?” Jonah asked and briefly touched her arm.
Connie’s skin tingled and she looked at his fingers as he pulled his hand away. She crossed her arms and shivered. “I’m not good with sudden noises. Or rowdy people. But I’m fine now.”
He didn’t look convinced. “I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”
Connie’s throat tightened immediately. Where were you ten years ago? She pushed the thought aside, ignoring the old and yet still familiar pain winding up her spine. Without really knowing why, she felt safe with Jonah.
“I know you wouldn’t.”
His expression lightened. “Would you like to dance?”
Connie glanced at the crowded dance floor. “You’ll be sorry.”
He chuckled and stood, holding out his hand. “I’ll risk it. Let’s go.”
She left her coat on the back of the chair, looping her small bag over her shoulder as she took his hand and rose to her feet. His fingers curled around hers and he led the way as they wove through the dancers and found a spot in the center. The band was playing a midtempo love song, and several couples were swaying around them. He halted, placed one hand on her hip and drew her closer.
“So, what should I do?” she asked, looking up at him, her mouth barely reaching his chin.
He really was remarkably handsome, and his blue eyes glittered brilliantly. “Just hold on to me.”
She nodded and placed one hand on his shoulder, while the other stayed entwined with his hand. Palm to palm, hip to hip, with enough distance between them to appear respectable, Connie was achingly aware of the intimacy being so close to him evoked. Her fingers burned against his shoulder, even through layers of clothing, and the scent of the cologne he wore was unbelievably arousing. She hadn’t been this close to anyone since...since that crazy night in his hotel room. And she liked the feelings he evoked within her.
Even if she was scared to death of acting on them.
“You’re tense,” he said and gently drew her closer. “Relax.”
“I warned you that I couldn’t dance.”
He held her gaze. “You’re not so bad.”
Connie swayed against him, experiencing an awareness that was so acute, her entire body was suddenly on fire. She’d never had that kind of reaction to a man before. She wanted him. But the very idea was at odds with everything she believed him to be. At least, what she had believed.
Now, Connie wasn’t so sure. They were on a date. He was polite and charming and perfectly respectable. He wasn’t at all the way everyone else believed him to be. And if she dared allow herself to really think about it, Connie hadn’t ever truly believed he was like that. Not since that night in the bar at O’Sullivans when they’d talked with a kind of raw earnestness that had reached her deep down. That’s why she’d gone to his room, why she’d kissed him like there was no tomorrow.
“You’re not so bad, either,” she said and looked up, meeting his gaze, feeling the heat emanating from him, and then drowning in his blue eyes. “I don’t know what to make of this.”
“This?”
“You and me,” she replied, noticing that his grip tightened just a fraction. “It seems kind of out of left field. I’m not sure everyone would understand.”
“Everyone? You mean the O’Sullivans?” His brows came up. “J.D. has already warned me to stay away from you.”
“He’s just looking out for me.”
“I accused him of being infatuated with you,” he admitted, and despite her instant annoyance toward him for being so ridiculous, she also admired his honesty. “But that’s not it. This codependence thing you’ve got going with J.D. and Liam and even Gwen...it’s about something else. Maybe it’s because of Liz’s death. I imagine losing a sister, a daughter, was devastating for the family.”
Connie nodded and leaned closer. She had many fond memories of Liz. “It was. They’re still mour
ning her. But I’m not a replacement daughter. Although your father and Liam have always treated me well, I’m still an employee.”
He reached up and touched her cheek. “You’re more than that. You’re like the glue that keeps everything together at the hotel. You single-handedly arranged Kieran’s wedding. I think they’d be lost without you.”
Connie had always felt valued in her role at O’Sullivans, but never more so than in that moment. Jonah’s words struck a chord, and she swallowed hard. “Thank you. For understanding, I mean.”
He swayed her a little and smiled. “And you can dance. Maybe it’s been your partners who had two left feet.”
Connie smiled and was achingly disappointed when the song ended and a faster tune started up. She asked to sit down, and he complied immediately. They chatted for a while, and when she excused herself to head to the bathroom, he stood politely and waited for her to leave. The restrooms were toward the rear of the restaurant, down a short passageway, and by the time she came out, there were three men standing by the bar. Dressed in cowboy gear, they were all tall and broad and had clearly been drinking way too much. Connie felt their observation as she approached and then cringed when the youngest of the group made a crude comment. She held her head steady, refusing to look down, remembering everything she’d learned from the self-defense classes she’d taken. She could handle a few drunken jerks at a restaurant. Besides, she surely wasn’t in any real danger. It was a busy place, and no doubt she could have the manager or security at her side in a heartbeat if she made a scene. The thing was, Connie didn’t want a scene. She’d had all the drama she could endure a decade ago and now liked her quiet life and anonymity.
As she moved toward the table where Jonah waited, one of the cowboys stepped sideways, halting her in her tracks.
“Hey, sweet thing,” he drawled. “Can I buy you a drink?”
“No, thank you.”
He smiled, reeking of liquor—and trying her patience. “No need to be unfriendly.”
Connie exhaled. “Would you please let me pass?”
“In a minute,” he drawled. “I’d like to talk to you for a while.”
Connie’s back straightened and she noticed his companions smirking. She was about to sidestep when he reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder. Her instincts surged. She grabbed his hand, twisting it around as she turned his arm in an arc until his back was turned and pushed his arm upward. He yelped, staggered and took a couple of steps forward until he landed against the bar.
She turned her foot, pressed her heel into the back of his knee and he dropped like a stone.
Chapter Five
Jonah watched the interaction unfold in slow motion as he wove through the tables and headed for the bar area. The moment he’d realized Connie was being harassed by the cowboys, he’d almost flown across the room. Still, he didn’t make it in time and had to watch as Connie handled the jerk who was twice her size.
By the time he was at her side, the cowboy had staggered to his feet and she had stepped back, breathing heavily, her gray eyes wide and filled with a kind of panic that knocked the air from his lungs. He half shielded her, waited for the other man to turn around and then spoke.
“If you want to try that again, understand that if you do, next time you won’t get back up.”
The cowboy held up his hands. “I was only trying to be friendly and—”
“I know exactly what you were trying to do,” Jonah said, keeping his voice low, aware that they were being watched and the manager was now making his way toward them. “Touch her again, and I will end you.”
He heard Connie’s sharp intake of breath behind him. Felt her shrink back even though they weren’t touching. He wanted to turn on his heels and haul her into his arms and let her know that she had nothing to fear from him and that he would protect her with his last breath. He felt foolish thinking it, knowing there was no need for such dramatic behavior. But he would do it, just the same.
The manager arrived, alongside a security guard, and it took about half a minute to have the trio of cowboys escorted from the restaurant. He grasped Connie’s elbow gently, felt her tense beneath his touch and then released her immediately. They returned to their table and he didn’t say a word for a moment. She sipped her drink and he noticed her hands were shaking. Finally, he spoke.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded. “Fine.”
“Where did you learn how to do that?”
She met his gaze. “Do what?”
“Take down someone twice your body weight.”
She shrugged. “Self-defense classes.”
He nodded, but he was surprised by her admission. “I’m sorry I didn’t get there in time. I would have—”
“Ended him,” she said, cutting him off. “Yes, I heard. You don’t strike me as the bar-brawler type.”
“I’ll fight if I have to.”
“Offense or defense?”
“Is there a difference?” he shot back.
“Absolutely,” she replied. “The truth is, I can’t stand violence. I don’t watch violent movies or sports that advocate it.”
Her tone had changed. She sounded angry. “I didn’t mean to upset you. And you appeared to have the situation under control.”
She shrugged. “I’m amazed I remembered how to do it. I haven’t been to a class in years.”
Jonah looked at her. “It seemed to come back to you well enough. He dropped like a rock.”
A shadow seemed to flicker over her face, and she wrapped her arms around herself. “Do you mind if we go now?”
“Of course not. If you’re rattled by what happened I can call someone for you,” he suggested gently. “A friend or—”
“I’m already with a friend,” she said and smiled. “Right?”
Jonah’s gut clenched. “Right.”
A couple of minutes later, the check had been paid and they were heading from the restaurant. He lingered by the door for a moment, scanning the parking area, ensuring the jerks who’d harassed her were not loitering somewhere close by. When he realized the area was clear, they headed for the car. Jonah opened the passenger door and waited until she was buckled in before he walked around to the other side. She was noticeably quiet—and he was concerned.
“Are you sure you’re okay, Connie?”
“Just a little shaken up. But I’ll be fine.”
“Don’t let a few loudmouthed jerks upset you. Particularly since you handled them so well.”
“I’m not proud of doing that,” she said pointedly. “I don’t like hurting people. Jerks or not.”
“They deserved it.”
“Doesn’t make it right.”
Jonah started the ignition. “Then why did you do it?”
“Instinct,” she replied. “Self-preservation.”
“You did what you had to do.”
She sighed. “Maybe. Anyway, thank you for a nice evening.”
“It’s not over yet.”
She glanced sideways. “Do you have something else planned?”
“I thought we could have a drink at the hotel bar,” he suggested. “Unless you’re embarrassed to be seen with me?”
She laughed softly. “Not at all. I do live my own life, you know. But since we’d have to almost drive past my street to get there, how about you take me home instead?” she said and then raised a hand. “That’s not an invitation to sleep over. Just coffee and conversation. And you can meet my dogs. They’re the best judges of character that I know.”
Jonah grinned and headed down the highway. “You think I need character judgment?”
“Not especially. In fact, I think your reputation is your disguise.”
He laughed. “You won’t tell, will you?”
“Your secret is safe with me,” she replied. “Anyway, I think the
O’Sullivans are smart enough to work it out for themselves.”
“There’s that blind faith again.”
She made an impatient sound. “They’re not your enemy, you know? If you’d give them a chance, you’d discover that they are all good people. Even your father.”
Jonah flinched at the reference. “I’m sure he has his qualities.”
“Would you like a list?” she shot back and then began tapping examples off her fingers. “Kindness. Consideration. Strength. And he’s also generous.”
“You forgot integrity and loyalty,” Jonah suggested. “Oh, wait...those are probably not on the list.”
“God, you’re hard-nosed about some things.”
“About J.D.?” he said and shrugged. “I suppose I am. Habit.”
“Was he such a bad father?”
Jonah took a moment to reply, feeling the anxiety well in his gut. “He was mostly absent.”
“But he didn’t completely neglect you? I mean, he was there for some of your birthdays and graduations and all of those things.”
“For some,” he replied, not elaborating.
“Well, you’re lucky... That’s more than what I got from my folks.”
“But you weren’t their dirty little secret, were you?” he said, pushing back the familiar resentment churning through his blood. “I was.”
“From all accounts, he wanted the truth to come out years ago and your mom didn’t—”
“My mom did what was best for me,” he said, harsher than he liked. “And she had too much respect for Gwen O’Sullivan to break up that family.”
As he said the words, Jonah felt them through to his bones. He’d always believed his mother had done the right thing...the only thing. The part he couldn’t understand was J.D.’s insistence that he stay connected to their lives. The other man should have left them alone. That would have been the kind, decent thing. Except J. D. O’Sullivan was so righteous and arrogant that he needed to be in control of everything...including the part-time family and secret he believed was rightfully his to hold on to. That’s why Jonah hated him. And always would.
