by Helen Lacey
“Most of us aren’t,” Gwen said. “You know how Liam has a reputation for being a hardnose and more interested in money than anything else. Then you see him holding Jack and know he’s really just mush inside. And J.D.,” she said and shrugged. “My ex-husband has always been considered to be blustering and overopinionated, but that’s not entirely true. J.D. certainly has his flaws, but he’s always been a good provider and caring father. And I believe he did try to be a presence in Jonah’s life as the best he could considering the circumstances. As for Jonah...he is simply trying to find his place among a group of strangers he’s connected to by blood. And he will,” Gwen assured her gently. “If you can help him do that, I think it would be a good thing.”
Connie didn’t disguise her surprise. “So, you’re not going to tell me I’m out of my mind for getting involved with him?”
“Of course not,” Gwen replied. “You’re a grown woman. Just take time to get to know him before you jump too fast.”
“You mean before I jump into bed with him?” Connie queried, heat smacking her cheeks. “I think it’s obvious that I’m not the jumping type.”
“Understandable,” Gwen said quietly.
Connie nodded fractionally. “I’ve never had a real relationship,” she admitted, embarrassed yet oddly comforted by the older woman’s counsel. “I guess you know that.”
Gwen smiled and then her expression changed to concern. “Have you told Jonah about your past?”
“No,” she replied quickly. “And I don’t want him to know. I can’t let my past define my present. Or my future.”
“Our experiences always define us, Connie,” Gwen said gently. “And if I’ve learned anything from this past year, it’s that the truth is always best told.”
As she made tea, using some of the bone china that Gwen had decided to leave at the house, and headed back to the dining room carrying a tray, she thought about Gwen’s words. In her heart she knew the truth was best brought out into the open, but she had her reasons for wanting her past to remain exactly that. She didn’t want the questions. The concern. The pity. And then the inevitable goodbye.
When she entered the room she saw that Kayla was feeding the baby, and Nicola was chatting about her two nephews, who were spending the day with Nicola’s elderly father. It took about two minutes in their company for Connie’s envy to kick in. It seemed she’d been thinking about babies a lot recently. And relationships. And commitment. And sex.
And all of it with Jonah Rickard.
She stayed for a while, long enough to sip half a cup of tea, and then she left her friends to find him. He was upstairs in one of the bedrooms, on a ladder, concentrating hard on hanging an airplane mobile from the ceiling. His shirt had pulled free from the waistband of his jeans, and when Connie caught a glimpse of his washboard abs, her libido, dormant for so long, rocked like a quake on the Richter scale.
She’d experienced desire before. She’d wanted someone’s touch. But not like this. Jonah had tapped into the part of herself she wasn’t sure even existed, since every time she’d gotten close to real intimacy with a man, she’d panicked and bailed. That night in Jonah’s hotel room was the closest she’d ever been to making love with someone. Fear had made her run. But she wasn’t afraid of Jonah, not anymore, not now that she knew him. As she watched him, as she allowed her gaze to follow every angle of his body, her old fears seemed like a distant memory.
“Jonah,” she said softly.
He turned his head, saw her standing by the door and his expression softened. She loved how that happened, was thrilled by the way his scowl seemed to disappear when they were together.
“Hey,” he said and continued to work on the mobile. “What have you been up to?”
“Girl talk,” she replied and stepped into the room.
“It figures. My ears were burning,” he said and grinned.
She laughed. “How did you get stuck with this job?”
“I volunteered,” he replied. “Anything to get away from Liam barking out orders like a drill sergeant.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t tell him to go to hell,” she quipped and walked around the room.
“Who says I didn’t?” he replied and continued his task.
Connie laughed again. “Jonah?”
He looked back down and met her gaze, their visual connection brilliantly intense. “Yeah?”
Connie swallowed hard, felt her fears rise and then pushed them back. “I want...” She stopped, her words trailing off, her courage dwindling. Then she took a breath and continued, “I want you to make love to me.”
* * *
Jonah almost toppled off the ladder. He blinked hard and met her eyes, their smoky depths undoing him.
“Ah...right now?”
She smiled and looked around the room. “No...but sometime.”
There was color in her cheeks, and it registered in some part of his brain—the part that wasn’t driven by his groin—that they were difficult words for her. There was an innocence about Connie, a kind of naïveté that suggested she wasn’t very experienced. It was why he’d asked if she was a virgin. He’d stayed away from girls like Connie since college, sensing they expected more commitment than he was prepared to give. And back then he would have avoided a woman as inexperienced as Connie Bedford like the plague. But he wasn’t about to avoid her now. He wanted her. It was chemistry. And she clearly felt the same way.
He finished hanging the mobile and stepped down the ladder. “Let’s do something tonight.”
“Are you asking me out on another date?”
He nodded. “No dancing shoes this time. Just you and me, a bottle of wine and somewhere quiet.”
He watched, fascinated as she swallowed and her lovely throat convulsed nervously. “Do you have somewhere in mind?”
“My apartment,” he supplied. “I’ll cook.”
Her brows came up. “You’re cooking?”
“Not a chance,” he said and grinned. “I’ll order it from the hotel and heat it up later. No good having all this O’Sullivan DNA if I can’t use it to my advantage every now and then.”
She smiled warmly. “I’d like that.”
“Now, get out of here before I forget my good intentions and kiss you.”
She laughed but did leave, and he felt her absence like a blow to the gut. It was a feeling that had grown on him over the last few occasions they’d been together. Like leaving her got harder every time he had to do it. Once they were lovers, once he’d rid himself of the aching need he had to possess her, Jonah was sure the feeling would wane. It was only lust, he assured himself. Plain old sexual attraction. So, maybe this was more intense than he’d experienced before. Maybe he did enjoy spending time with her and hearing her voice and inhaling the scent of the fragrance she wore and how it seemed to linger on his clothes long after they’d parted company. It didn’t mean anything. He wasn’t the type of guy to get bogged down in feelings.
He wanted to get laid. He wanted Connie. It was simple. And he intended to keep it that way.
By the time he headed back downstairs, there were more boxes to unload, and he spent another hour helping out. When lunch that had been provided by Nicola from JoJo’s was ready, everyone hung out in the kitchen, and rather than experience an acute sense of exclusion, Jonah actually enjoyed the camaraderie he witnessed between Liam and Kieran and how they openly dissed one another, even pointing a few barbs in his direction. It was all in good humor and he wasn’t fazed, no doubt because Connie was close by, her presence calming him, making it easier for him to relax, somehow, to be a part of the O’Sullivan clan.
And of course he didn’t really dislike them. Kieran was easily one of the nicest people he’d ever met, and if they’d become acquainted under different circumstances, Jonah was certain they would have become friends. Liam was just Liam. In charge. Bossy. And
quite likable in his own way. And Gwen was a kind woman who made him feel welcome among her family.
And there was Connie.
A rock. An ally.
And soon she would be his lover.
He dismissed the thought once they returned to the unpacking, and by three o’clock they were done. Kieran slapped him on the back affectionately and Liam shook his hand, and by the time he was driving from the ranch, with Connie in the seat beside him, Jonah felt relaxed and oddly happy.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” she asked.
“Which part?” he teased. “The part where you made me talk to J.D.? Or where I was the butt of Liam’s jokes?”
“You seemed to handle it okay,” she said and smiled. “You’re a tough guy—you can handle a little criticism.”
“I’ve had lots of practice,” he said and grinned. “After hanging around you.”
She laughed and the sound hit directly in the center of his chest. He loved her laugh. It pierced him through to the core and made him feel lighter, less weighed down by the burden of Cedar River and all the place represented. He dropped her at home with a perfunctory kiss on the cheek, and they arranged for her to be at his apartment at seven. Then he headed into town and to the hotel.
Half an hour later he was hanging around near the kitchen waiting for his order when J.D. walked up behind him. The restaurant was closed, getting ready for the dinner service, but the chef had happily taken his order. But seeing J.D., as always, made Jonah’s hackles rise. He pushed them back immediately.
“Twice in one day,” the older man remarked. “It’s good to see you again. What are you doing here?”
He pointed to the kitchen. “Ordering an early dinner. Which I paid for, in case you think I’m here to score a freebie meal.”
J.D. moved beside him and frowned. “You can have whatever you want. This place is as much yours as it is Liam’s, Kieran’s and Sean’s.”
Jonah stilled. “Hardly.”
J.D. shrugged. “I have four sons, and when I pass on, my estate will get split evenly.”
“I don’t want your money,” he said tightly, wishing his dinner order would magically appear, cursing himself for not going to JoJo’s for a pizza instead. “I don’t want anything from you.”
“I know,” J.D. said wearily. “But you’ll get it anyway.”
Jonah pushed back his building rage. “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”
“Because you’re my son,” J.D. said quietly and then paused when a waitress approached carrying a bag with Jonah’s food. She said hello to them both, smiled and then disappeared back into the kitchen. Once she was out of sight, J.D. laid a hand on Jonah’s shoulder and spoke. “That looks like dinner for two.”
“It is,” he replied coolly.
J.D. nodded. “Connie, I suppose. Tread carefully with her, Jonah. That girl has been through enough in her life.”
Jonah’s temperature soared. He had no interest in discussing his relationship with Connie with J.D.—not in any lifetime. “It’s none of your business. And what the hell does that mean anyway?”
J.D. shook his head. “It’s not my tale to tell. Just don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“Don’t be like you, you mean,” he said and made a dismissive sound. “Believe me, I have no intention of ever being anything like you. I saw my mom go through enough at your hands.”
“I cared deeply about your mother. I still—”
“You care about yourself,” he lashed out. “Let’s face it, J.D., you are a screwup when it comes to things like integrity and honesty. That’s not a legacy I intend on imitating. And my relationship with Connie is none of your damned business.”
“That’s true,” he said, suddenly looking older than Jonah had ever seen him. “But I’m saying this out of concern for you, too. I know that you don’t think I love you as much as I do your brothers.”
Jonah’s rage festered. He didn’t want to hear it. “I don’t care what you think.”
J.D. sighed heavily. “I can assure you, son, that the truth is quite the opposite.”
Enraged, he grabbed the food and left, trying to calm his heart rate as he left the hotel and headed home. By the time he got back to his apartment, he was calmer. He took a shower, as cold as he could stand, and then got dressed. He grabbed a bottle of wine from the rack by the pantry, collected everything he needed and made his way outside.
Damn J.D. for ruining his mood.
It’s not my tale to tell...
Jonah had no idea what that meant. But he intended to find out.
* * *
By the time she drove to Jonah’s that evening, Connie was so nervous her hands were sweating on the steering wheel. Once she pulled up outside the old Victorian, she grabbed her tote and smoothed her sweater down over her jeans, quickly pushed her arms into her wool coat and curled her scarf around her neck. It was dark out, but she could see the lights twinkling from the gazebo out back. Jonah had texted her an hour earlier, saying they were having dinner in the gazebo at the rear of the house, and she was delighted when she spotted lights dotted on the path. He was a romantic at heart, she realized, and almost swooned when she saw him by the structure, dressed in khakis, a white shirt and lined sheepskin coat. She saw the glow of a brass fire pit and realized he’d thought of everything. They spot was secluded and private and perfect as a prelude to a romantic and intimate evening.
“You look beautiful,” he said when she reached him, taking her hand and raising her knuckles to his lips.
“You don’t look so bad yourself.”
He grinned, led her up the gazebo, and they sat at the small table. She heard music, something soft and dreamy and perfect for such a romantic setting. No one had ever gone to such lengths to make a date so special for her before.
“Are you warm enough?” he asked as he poured some wine.
Connie glanced at the fire pit and nodded, touched by his consideration, and sipped the wine. “I’m as warm as toast. It’s lovely here.”
“I thought you’d like it,” he said and grinned. “No annoying cowboys to spoil our evening.”
Connie smiled. “I’m happy about that. I didn’t realize you were such a romantic at heart.”
“Guilty as charged,” he said and laughed softly.
He suggested they eat before the food got cold, and within minutes they were digging into a plate of spaghetti and a basket of crusty herb bread.
“Good?” he asked and smiled.
“Fabulous.”
“I’m glad you’re here.”
She nodded. “Me, too.”
His gaze narrowed. “I saw J.D. at the hotel. He advised me not to get involved with you unless I’m serious.”
Connie stopped eating, her fork hovering in midair. “And are you?”
“Serious?” He nodded. “About you? Yes. Are you?”
“Of course.”
He inhaled, placed his fork on the table and linked his fingers together. “Then maybe you can tell me what’s going on with you...why J.D. said you had a tale to tell.”
She shuddered and hoped he didn’t notice. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“It’s what J.D. said. Connie, have you been married? Divorced?” He hesitated. “Widowed?”
Connie’s nerves frayed. “No to all of those things.”
“You once said you’d had your heart and your spirit broken,” he reminded her. “You also said the O’Sullivans saved your life. What did you mean by that?”
“I told you,” she said quickly. “I was young, my parents had left town, your father gave me a job at the hotel.”
He didn’t look convinced. “And that’s all?”
Connie hated lying. But for ten years, she’d been forced to live a lie by omission, by putting that time from her mind. And still, a decade o
n, she felt defined by that terrible day, as much as she’d tried to move on, to build a life for herself.
But it was hard.
Like now. When faced with her truth. When she had to look into Jonah’s eyes and deny her past. “I can’t tell you,” she whispered.
His gaze narrowed instantly, and he reached across the table and grasped her hand. “You can. Whatever you say to me, it stays with me.”
“It’s not a secret, Jonah. It’s just in the past, and that’s where I’d like it to stay.”
He squeezed her fingertips. “What happened to you?”
Her insides crunched. “Why do you need to know? It doesn’t change the fact that we’re here together and I thought we’d—”
“You thought we’d what?” he asked. “Make love tonight? Is that really what you want?”
She swallowed hard. “Yes.”
He released her hand. “Even though you look scared to death of the idea. And of me.”
Connie straightened in the chair. “I’m not,” she assured him. “I want this. I want you.”
“I want you, too, Connie,” he said and exhaled heavily. “But not with secrets between us. You know everything about me. You demand to know everything...and that’s okay, because I understand. I hate secrets and you know why. I was a secret for thirty years. If we’re going to do this, then we need to be honest with one another.”
Connie’s heart sank. It wasn’t a truth she’d ever verbalized. Or ever wanted to. She wanted it hidden. Tucked away. So she could pretend it hadn’t happened and her innocence and trust weren’t stolen from her that day. But she knew Jonah was stubborn and relentless and would keep digging until he uncovered the truth. It would be better if she made it easy for him by ending things before they really began. Even if it meant breaking her heart in the process.
She got to her feet, her legs unsteady. “You want to know the truth about who I am? You want to figure out why I seem so inexperienced? Why I’ve never had a serious relationship? The real reason I bailed that night in your hotel room?” She took a breath, garnering her courage. “Come on, Jonah, you’re a smart guy...surely you can read between the lines. You asked me out on a date tonight,” she said and grabbed her tote, willing strength into her legs. “Well, here’s a date for you,” she said and rattled off eight numbers. “Ask around, look that up on the internet. You’ll get all the information you need and learn everything about me—every intimate and private detail.” She secured her coat around her shoulders. “And then see if you can handle it.”
