The Welcome Home Garden Club by Lori Wilde Read Free Book Online Page A

over the second button. “Your da was rich?”
    “The wealthiest man in my hometown. Meanwhile I grew up in poverty.”
    “Poor pet.” She let him have the second button.
    He could see her cleavage. Sweet peaches. He focused on those enticing breasts. Who cared about J. Foster?
    “That must’ve been so hard on ya.”
    Gideon shrugged. “I didn’t learn he was my father until after my mother died when I was nineteen.” He went for the third button.
    Moira clucked her tongue. “Not yet.”
    “I really don’t want to talk about this.”
    She buttoned the second button back up. The woman couldn’t be derailed.
    “Okay, okay.”
    Slanting him a sly smile, she undid the button again. He could feel her warm breath on his skin, he tried to kiss her but she shook her head. “A deal’s a deal.”
    “I don’t know why you want to know this.”
    “It’s not for me. It’s for you. Don’t keep things bottled up. Let it out.”
    “If I tell you the whole sordid story at once, can we go to bed?”
    “I’m listening.”
    “I confronted him. He denied he was my father. In the way of a stupid punk kid grieving his dead mother, I lashed out, wanting to make him pay, and I set his barn on fire.” Gideon balled up his fist, the dark memory poking him.
    For better or worse, his life to date was a consequence of those youthful knee-jerk reactions. He wondered if all people felt this disappointed with themselves, the things they’d done, the irrevocable paths they’d chosen. The minute he’d lit that match, set it to the gasoline, he’d realized he’d forever lost the chance to right himself. That he could spend his whole lifetime trying and never be the man he wanted to be—a man good enough for Caitlyn Blackthorne.
    Caitlyn.
    The thought of her blew over him like an Arctic breeze.
    The man he wanted to be would not have confronted Goodnight in the first place. He would have taken the high road, honored his mother’s memory by letting the past be past. Been noble instead of angry. Been smart instead of driven by vengeance.
    Gideon felt like a fraud. In the army, he’d been a Green Beret, held up as the best of the best, and yet he was a lowly bastard, not good enough for the likes of Judge Blackthorne’s daughter. He thought he’d moved beyond it all. Forgotten about the unfortunate circumstances of his birth. He thought he’d let go of Twilight and tucked Caitlyn into the far reaches of his mind.
    “What happened?” Moira whispered.
    Now that he was telling the tale, he couldn’t seem to stop. “I was arrested, brought up before the judge, who was, surprise, surprise, a golfing buddy of my father’s.” Gideon ran his palm down his face.
    “Your hometown is very small?”
    “Population six thousand.” The moment was branded into his brain. Him, with his court-appointed lawyer, standing in front of Judge Blackthorne’s bench. “I was given a choice. Join the military or go to jail for arson.”
    “So ya joined the army.”
    He smiled without mirth, held out his mechanical arm. “And sealed my fate.”
    “And you’ve never seen or talked to your da since?”
    He shook his head, and then told her about his visit from Lester LaVon.
    “Maybe your da left ya some money. Maybe in his old age he felt badly about what he did to ya and he wanted to make amends.”
    “Too little, too late.”
    A disappointed expression carved a wrinkle in her brow. “That’s not like ya.”
    “What?” The woman had no idea what he was really like. They were just bed buddies.
    “The bitterness.”
    “You don’t know me well enough to make that assessment.”
    “Go ahead, lash out, I can take it.” She was rubbing his shoulder, trying to knead out the tension.
    “You don’t owe me your understanding.”
    “There’s something more, isn’t there?” Moira challenged. “Another reason you’re not going back to Twilight. I mean your da is dead, after all. He can’t do anything more to ya now.”
    “Let’s