The Secret Son's Homecoming. Helen Lacey
together. He never used her first name. He kept the divide between them as wide as he could, and she assumed that focusing on her professional relationship with his family made it easier for him. He obviously didn’t like her. Well, it was a mutual feeling.
Except...she didn’t really want to be that way with Jonah. No, what she felt toward him was something else. Something she didn’t quite have the courage to acknowledge.
She experienced a quiver across her skin as their fingertips connected, and then his hand closed over hers and he drew her closer. The cologne he wore was subtle and masculine and assailed her senses instantly, latching onto her memory like a narcotic. And suddenly she was back inside his hotel room, back feeling his hands roam across her skin, experiencing the possession of his mouth on hers. She’d been all too ready to get lost in the moment of passion... Until another memory had kicked in, one that had a familiar and polarizing effect right to her core.
His grip tightened fractionally, as though he’d recognized she was on the verge of flight mode.
“Relax,” he said quietly, moving one arm around her waist. “It’s just a dance.”
Connie swallowed hard, ignored her pounding heart and told herself he was right. It was just a dance. And it would soon be over. He’d release her. She’d be free to scurry back to the sidelines where she could forget all about her crazy overreaction to Jonah Rickard.
She stepped on his foot and wobbled. “Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said blandly, his hold around her waist firm but unthreatening.
Her eyes barely reached his chin, even in her heels, and she curled one hand over his shoulder, balancing herself. “I’m not much of a dancer.”
“I noticed.”
One thing about Jonah Rickard—he could make any remark sound like an insult without so much as batting an eyelid. “I wasn’t sure you’d be here,” she said, aiming for a dig.
His shoulders tensed fractionally. “It’s my half brother’s wedding.”
He always said half brother. He would never acknowledge the O’Sullivans as anything other than an unwanted part of his DNA.
“You didn’t RSVP,” she said, one brow up, trying to keep her feet moving to the ridiculously romantic song playing in the background. “For yourself or a guest.”
He made a soft scoffing sound. “Is that a roundabout way of asking if I’m seeing anyone at the moment?”
Color seeped up her neck, and she gritted her back teeth. “Certainly not. It’s just polite to let people know these things...that is, if you actually care about other people.”
His jaw tightened. “I told Kieran I’d be a groomsman. I didn’t realize that came with a contractual obligation.” He glanced at his watch and his mouth twitched. “Two whole minutes and we’re already on the verge of an argument... That might be a record, Miss Bedford.”
“Would you stop calling me that?”
“No.”
Irritation coursed across her skin.
“You’re such a jerk. I can’t believe I almost...”
Her words trailed off as shame and humiliation found its way into her blood and then took root through to her bones. The song changed and Connie thought it was her chance to escape, to pull free of his embrace and leave him standing in the middle of the dance floor. The more she considered it, the more she realized that his hold on her had loosened and he was almost inviting her to bail.
“I don’t think either of us needs a trip down memory lane,” he said, low into her ear, almost in a whisper. “Do we?”
“Coming to my senses before it was too late was the smartest thing I’ve ever done,” she snapped tightly.
“Is that what you did?” he inquired, his voice so soft she felt herself lean closer so she could hear him.
“Yes. But I...”
“You...what?” he queried when her words trailed off.
Connie quickly recalled everything that had transpired that night. She’d willingly gone to his room. She’d willingly responded to his kisses. And then she’d changed her mind. In his defense, he’d done nothing dishonorable. He’d hadn’t tried to sway her or convince her to betray her principles with words or actions or made her feel threatened in any way. She’d said no, and he’d accepted it. Even so, he clearly still resented her for rejecting him.
In hindsight, she couldn’t believe she’d behaved in such an out-of-character fashion. She didn’t do hotel rooms or spend the night with guys she hardly knew. At the time she’d only met him on a couple of occasions. It had been his first visit to Cedar River, the first time he’d met his extended family. She worked for his brother and should have steered clear of him for obvious reasons. Muddying waters wasn’t her thing. Complicated wasn’t her thing. Neither was drama. She’d had enough of that in the past to last her a lifetime.
“I didn’t mean to lead you on,” she said softly.
He shrugged loosely. “It doesn’t matter now. Let’s just keep ignoring one another. For the sake of harmony, it’s probably better that way.”
Then he released her, turned on his heel and walked off, leaving her standing in the center of the dance floor and realizing that he’d done exactly what she’d wanted to do to him.
* * *
Jonah wasn’t sure what it was about Connie Bedford that pushed his buttons so much.
But she did.
Big time.
And it wasn’t only about that night ten months earlier. Sure, she’d dented his ego. There was something about her that got under his skin. And no one, ever, did that. He’d spent his life keeping pretty much everyone—except his mother—at a figurative arm’s length. It made it easier to hold on to resentment, to hate his father and remain cautious about getting too close to his newfound half siblings. Now he had family everywhere he looked—a grandmother, an uncle, a cousin, nieces and nephews...the list appeared to keep on growing. And now that Kieran was married to Nicola, no doubt there would be more babies on the way in the future.
Having to fake a familial connection with so many people was exhausting. So he didn’t waste energy doing it. Which meant everyone thought he was arrogant and unlikable. And maybe he was. But he didn’t have anything to prove, and all he cared about was ensuring his mom was safe and happy. She was his family. Not these strangers who looked so much like him.
Because that’s what they were. Strangers. His life was filled with them. Each one trying to take a piece of him, trying to make him fit in. The truth was, fitting in with them didn’t interest him. He wasn’t and never would be an O’Sullivan. He didn’t need J.D.’s last name, his money or the legacy that came with both of those things. He only wanted his mother to be happy, and since she’d decided to move back to Cedar River, a small town in the shadow of the Black Hills, he found himself commuting from Portland more often than he liked. Something he’d do until he was sure his mother was settled and happy. He stayed at Kieran’s old apartment and minded his own business, unless he was forced to hang out with his half brothers.
He’d become used to them interfering over the past few months—particularly Liam and Kieran, since Sean lived in California and rarely made it back to Cedar River. The older O’Sullivan siblings seemed to have made inclusion part of their DNA. And it irritated the hell out of him. Jonah didn’t want to be a part of their family. He had enough going on working out a way to fit in with the Rickards.
And to top it off, there was Connie. Blond hair, gray eyes, curves in all the right places. Liam’s personal assistant, a family friend and so far under his skin he couldn’t bear to be in the same room as her. She had him under some kind of crazy, lustful spell, and he acted like