The Secret Son's Homecoming. Helen Lacey

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The Secret Son's Homecoming - Helen Lacey


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all the years since he was old enough to understand the situation. Kathleen had left Cedar River—left her family—so she could have her baby in secret and not blow the O’Sullivan empire apart. He understood his mother’s motives, and he respected them, but he hated J.D. and everything he stood for—his dishonesty, his betrayal, his lack of integrity and honor—and vowed he would never demonstrate those qualities. Vowed to become a better man than J. D. O’Sullivan.

      “Jonah, I think your dad just meant that—”

      “Don’t call him that,” he growled, meeting her gaze for the first time since he’d entered the room. She blanched, and he registered a sharp feeling of guilt somewhere through the haze that was his rage. “This situation has nothing to do with you... It’s about him and me and my mother. Please stay out of it.”

      “I can’t do that,” she said and he watched as her throat rolled over convulsively. “I care too much about your family and I won’t see them hurt...not by anyone.”

      “Connie,” J.D. said quickly. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

      “That’s good advice,” Jonah shot back and glared at Connie, suddenly mesmerized by the way she glared back, not giving an inch. “You should take it.”

      She took a long breath. “You know something,” she said quietly, her chin held at a tight angle. “You really don’t deserve them.”

      It was a deliberate and cutting remark. Then she said goodbye to J.D. and left the room, ignoring Jonah completely. But he felt damned by the trace of her perfume that floated past him as she disappeared through the doorway. Jonah cursed his own stupidity before turning to glare at the other man in the room.

      “She’s quite a girl,” J.D. said and half smiled. “Don’t you think?”

      “I’d rather not speculate.”

      “That’s reassuring,” he replied. “She’s a nice young woman and shouldn’t be messed with.”

      Jonah almost laughed out loud. “I have no intention of messing with Miss Bedford,” he said, ignoring the twitch in his stomach. “She’s way too invested in your family. Actually, I’m not sure if it’s you or Liam that she’s infatuated with.”

      J.D. laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous. Liam’s happily married and I’m old enough to be her father.”

      “We all know your weakness for younger women.”

      The older man’s smile disappeared. “I was thirty-one when I fell in love with your mother. She was eighteen. That’s not exactly a lifetime between us.”

      Jonah wanted to cover his ears. He’d heard the story countless times. J.D. had fallen for Kathleen. They had an affair. She got pregnant. J.D. wanted to come clean and admit to his adultery, but Kathleen had persuaded him to remain in Cedar River and stay with his family while she gave up everything...for him.

      Yeah, he knew the story...knew his mother, too, had made her choices over the years. But he still blamed J.D. entirely for taking advantage of a much younger woman.

      “I don’t want to have this conversation again,” Jonah said quietly, harnessing his emotions as best he could.

      “At this stage, I’ll take any conversation I can get.”

      Jonah scowled. “Why the hell would you want to?”

      “Because you’re my son.”

      He winced. “You know I’m not interested in being anything to you.”

      J.D. nodded. “I know.”

      “But you still keep coming back for more of the same?” He shook his head. “I don’t understand it.”

      J.D. placed his big hands on the counter. “Well, I’m hoping that one day, you just might.”

      Jonah ignored the odd sensation suddenly seeping through his blood. He didn’t want to spend time with J.D. He didn’t want to waste time listening to platitudes about fathers and sons.

      “I’ve gotta go,” he said and fished his car keys from his pocket, thinking he’d had just about enough wedding nonsense and happy family time for one day. He needed the solitude of his apartment. Well, technically it was Kieran’s apartment, but he’d been bunking there off and on since his mother had moved back to Cedar River. Sometimes he stayed at the hotel, but with J.D. now in residence there, the less time he spent at O’Sullivans, the better.

      Jonah left the room and headed outside. He offered a quick goodbye to the bride and groom, knowing it was bad form to leave the ceremony before they did, and tried to shake off the guilt he felt as he drove home. The huge Victorian house, which had been split into several apartments, greeted him with the kind of quiet, uncomplicated seclusion he favored. Okay...so maybe that was a stretch. It wasn’t as though he longed for his own company. He’d always had a circle of friends and coworkers and socialized as much as the next person. In Portland he still had a few close friends from college and enjoyed their company. But regularly visiting South Dakota had been a no-brainer. He wasn’t about to let his mother wade through her past without him close at hand. She needed him. He had a spacious and modern apartment in Portland, a vast contrast with the old-fashioned Victorian, with its shuttered windows and mix of old and new furnishings. Before Kieran had leased the place, it had been Kayla’s home. Sometimes he felt stifled by the familial connection to the apartment, but it was convenient and the rent was reasonable.

      Once he got home, Jonah ditched the suit, took a shower, changed into jeans, a sweater and lined jacket, pulled on his boots, made coffee and headed outside onto the small terrace. Tomorrow was Sunday and he planned on visiting his mother, but before that he had to drop by the hotel to catch up with Liam about the proposed extension plans for the local museum and art gallery. Kayla was the curator and Liam had provided most of the funding for the council-approved extension. Jonah knew he’d been offered the contract to solidify the family connection...but it was good business and he was no fool.

      Once he finished the coffee, Jonah went back inside, grabbed a beer from the fridge and slumped onto the sofa. He grabbed the remote, flicked through a few channels and settled on a NASCAR event. The mindless drone of engines relaxed him and he settled back, perched his feet on the coffee table and dropped his head back and closed his eyes. He had the vague thought that he was done with weddings for a while. He’d never had any interest in getting married himself—at least, not yet. He’d never had a long-term relationship—no doubt a hang-up from his father’s lack of commitment to his wife and the double life he’d led for the past thirty years.

      When he woke up it was two in the morning. He had a crick in his neck, the beer was untouched on the table and the neighbor’s cat was curled up on the sofa beside him. The damned feline often sneaked in and made himself comfortable on Jonah’s sofa, bed or lap. He belonged to the elderly woman in the downstairs apartment and was notorious for getting into trouble. Jonah had already rescued the cat twice when he’d gotten caught on top of the gazebo in the backyard.

      Jonah got up, stretched out his limbs and then headed to bed. When he finally awoke it was past eight and he drank two cups of strong coffee to clear the fuzziness in his head, a feeling he blamed on the half a glass of celebratory wine he’d sipped at the reception and the resentment still churning in his gut. He dressed, made toast he didn’t eat and then headed into town.

      Sunday mornings in Cedar River were quiet, except for the tourists milling at the few open coffeehouses and the bakery on Main Street. Of course, the hotel was open, and he pulled into a reserved space next to his brother’s recognizable Silverado. He drove a sedan when he was in town, mostly to annoy J.D., who insisted he needed an SUV and kept offering to buy him one to replace the Jeep Jonah had sold the minute he’d started college. Jonah headed for the main doors and the concierge greeted him by name. His connection to the O’Sullivan family was known around town and he couldn’t deny it at the hotel. Still, as he walked through the place, he experienced a familiar and acute sense of dishonor about who and what he was. It was J.D.’s


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