by Judy Duarte
“They really are a good-looking bunch,” Nicola said and grinned, gesturing toward the brothers, who were all dressed in dark gray suits with a flower at the lapel. “Don’t you think?”
Connie managed an idle shrug. “Sure,” she replied, thinking that they were all so handsome it was quite ridiculous. “An unfairly good gene pool.”
As if on cue, Connie noticed, Kieran looked across the tent and made visual contact with his bride. The love between the newlyweds was palpable, and Connie experienced an acute sense of loneliness that made her heart ache. Which was silly, because she never considered herself to be lonely. She had a small circle of friends, and the O’Sullivans, of course, whom she cared for deeply and knew the feeling was reciprocated. But this was different. Nicola and Kieran were in love. Something Connie had never known, and considering her past, she wondered if she ever would. That kind of love imbued complete and utter trust in the other person—and Connie wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to offer that to anyone. Or be vulnerable enough to accept it in return.
“I think I’m wanted,” Nicola said on a sort of dreamy sigh before she gave Connie’s arm a gentle squeeze and then floated across the dance floor.
Connie watched as the bride and groom met, just in time for the music to start. It was an old song, with lyrics about finding someone who made life worthwhile, and before long more members of the wedding party headed out to join them. Dread etched along every nerve she possessed, because Connie knew she was next. She brushed her hands down the long, deep purple–colored dress, made the pointless gesture of smoothing her hair in its perfect chignon and then took a step. And then another. And another.
It took exactly nine steps to reach him, and she experienced the same crazy rush of blood through her veins, the same heightened sense of awareness that being around him evoked. Never in her life had she reacted to anyone the way she reacted to him. And she didn’t understand it. Why Jonah? He was aloof. He was indirectly disrespectful to the O’Sullivans. And he was a horse’s ass. Sure, he was attractive and had incredible blue eyes...but she’d never been particularly drawn to good looks. And since he’d been unconscionably rude to her ten months earlier, she should have gotten over her infatuation, pronto.
She sucked in a breath, took another step and found herself meeting his gaze. Something flickered in his eyes, a kind of intense awareness that weakened her knees and amplified the knowledge that she really was the biggest fool of all time.
“Miss Bedford,” he said and held out his hand.
Connie pressed her mouth 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 earlie
r. 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 a jerk every time they were together.
Of course, it was just sex.
He wanted to get her into bed.
End of story.
Their aborted make-out session had stupidly only amplified his desire for her. Of course, she had every right to change her mind, but he couldn’t help thinking that she’d become spooked in some way and that’s why she’d put the brakes on and then fled. He had no idea what he’d done to make her react that way because she’d left his room without an explanation. Now they couldn’t share a few words of conversation without it becoming a resentment-fueled disagreement. Not that he wanted to get cozy and friendly with Connie Bedford. He didn’t do that with anyone. But he had enough going on without the added aggravation of a certain blonde bombarding his thoughts every time he came to visit his mom. And it didn’t help that everyone named O’Sullivan seemed to think of her as some kind of angel incarnate. Connie did things. Connie fixed things. Connie had pretty much organized Kieran’s wedding single-handedly. Connie was the go-to girl. The person everyone leaned on to get things done. And she did it without complaint, so perhaps she was an angel. Because in his experience, no human being was that altruistic.
Maybe she had an endgame? Some kind of motive for being on call for the O’Sullivans 24/7. Not that it was any of his business. Connie Bedford could do what she liked, with whomever she liked, whenever she liked.
“Having a good time?”
Liam.
Jonah recognized his half brother’s voice immediately. Other than J.D., the man was his least favorite O’Sullivan. But Liam was the one who never let up—who acted like a big brother whenever he had the opportunity. And he monopolized most of Connie’s time and attention, since she’d been his personal assistant at the hotel for the past five years. Jonah wasn’t sure why it bugged him...but it did.
“Yeah, sure,” he replied and grabbed a wineglass from one of the passing waiters. “You know how much I love a good family gathering.”
Liam laughed. “God, you’re obnoxious.”
“One of my finer qualities.”
His brother shook his head. “Have you spoken to Dad this weekend?”
Jonah took a drink, ignored the awful sweetness of the wine and shrugged. “I’ve been busy.”
“You said you’d make an effort if we backed off and let you do this at your own pace,” Liam reminded him.
“I know what I said,” Jonah replied, spying Connie across the tent and hating that he was still thinking about her. “And I will.”
“It’s Thanksgiving in a couple of weeks,” Liam said. “It would be nice if you were there for him. Kayla’s folks and grandmother are coming to our place for dinner. So are my mother and Kieran and Nicola and the boys. And Liz’s girls will be there for some of the day.”
Liz, his half sister, had died a few years earlier. Jonah had heard the story many times. She’d left behind three young daughters and a rancher husband who had since remarried. The family was clearly still grieving, but given his own issues with the family, Jonah didn’t know how to feel about it.
“What do you expect me to say?” he asked his half brother.
Liam frowned. “All I’m saying is that I think Dad will be at loose ends.”
“I generally spend the holidays with my mom,” he said flatly. “I can’t see this year being any different.”
“We invited your mother,” Liam told him, so matter-of-fact it sounded like the most obvious thing in the world. “She declined, considering my mother would be there. So, I thought maybe Dad could—”
“I don’t want J.D. hanging around my mom,” Jonah said quickly, feeling rage rise through his blood. “Ever.”
Liam’s mouth twitched. “You might not have a say in the matter.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means,” his brother said and tapped him on the shoulder, “that as much as you want to, you don’t get to tell anyone how to live their life. Including and especially your parents. Now, be a big boy and go and talk to Dad.”
Dad...
Jonah hadn’t called J. D. O’Sullivan that since he was five years old.
And he never would again. He didn’t consider J.D. to be his father. He was the man who’d impregnated his mother when she was eighteen years old. End of story. There was no nice way around it. The fact that J.D. hadn’t technically abandoned his mom or him didn’t make one iota of difference. As far as Jonah was concerned, he didn’t have a father and was quite happy to keep it that way.
As if on cue, he spotted J.D. in the crowd, deep in discussion with people he knew were friends of the bride and groom. He also spotted Liam’s mother, Gwen O’Sullivan, a few feet away, clearly keeping a respectable distance between herself and her ex-husband. He admired her poise and elegance and the way she’d dropped J.D. like a hot coal once she’d discovered his lies and infidelity. Jonah had met her several times, and despite expecting her to treat him with disdain and resentment, Gwen was always polite and appeared to harbor no bad feelings toward him. He’d even attended her recent birthday celebration, albeit very briefly, as a gesture of respect.
Tired of the conversation with his half brother, Jonah waved a dismissive hand and headed inside the house. The O’Sullivan ranch was the largest around, and the house looked as though it could have been on the cover of a style magazine. The O’Sullivans were third-generation money and the wealthiest family in Cedar River. But money had never impressed Jonah, even though J.D. had showered him with extravagant gifts when he was younger. Bikes, electronic equipment, even a brand-new Jeep when he got his learner’s permit. None of it had made a lick of difference. What he’d wanted back then had nothing to do with the expensive gifts that felt like a payoff.
Family.
A mom and dad and maybe a cou
ple of siblings. Instead, there was J.D.—turning up every few months, full of excuses and handouts and time frames. A couple of days here and there, the occasional birthday, graduation...whenever he could fit them in between his real family. With postscripts about his other children. Jonah had been raised on a steady diet of tales about his half siblings and Cedar River and life on the big O’Sullivan ranch. And through all those years, they knew nothing about him. He was a guilty secret. A side note to his father’s perfect life. Until Liam had eloped with Kayla Rickard and everything had been blown out of the water in spectacular fashion.
Now, he was a part of them, drawn into their lives without his consent and feeling resistance with every fiber he possessed. Tied by blood but always the outsider, destined to be the illegitimate and unwanted son of J. D. O’Sullivan.
He shook off his thoughts and headed down the hallway and into the front living room. He’d been inside the house a couple of times, and since Gwen had decided she wanted to get a place in town and Kieran and his new bride planned on moving in, he figured his invitations would soon become more frequent. Nicola had custody of her two orphaned nephews, and Jonah had to admit the ranch would be a great place for the kids to grow up.
Jonah came to a halt in the doorway, spotting Connie by the window. She was staring out, clearly looking for some time alone. He was about to turn and leave when she said his name and turned slightly.
“I didn’t mean to disturb you,” he said quickly. “I was looking for some—”
“Downtime?” she suggested, cutting him off. “Me, too. Don’t get me wrong, I love weddings, but once everything is done and the bride and groom are relaxed and happy, I always seem to need a little time-out.”
He took a couple of steps into the room. “How many of these things have you helped organize?”
Her mouth twisted in a smile. “A few.”
Jonah let out a breath and took another step. “Don’t you ever get tired of it?”
“Tired of what?”