Finding Trust (Centre Games) (24 page)

Bray came to her rescue. “Well, if it does make you feel better, I am totally into you.” He turned to Rihanna and stroked that stray lock of hair back from her face again. “Sorry—sounds a bit more masculine than smitten.”

They all laughed and shook their heads at this. Bray leaned over and gave Rihanna a tender kiss. It looked like they’d be busy a while.

“Well, I don’t know about anyone else, but I’ve had just about enough of this love fest. Besides, I’m starving. Let’s get the BBQ on,” Rory suggested, getting out of his chair. He was still shaking his head; Quade and Jazz were quick to follow.

***

“So you seem to know Brayden well. Is this normal for him?” Jazz hit Rory right between the eyes with it. Rory was standing at the bench, arranging what seemed like a huge pile of raw meat on a plate.

“Are you always such a nosy little thing?” Quade half scowled from his seat at the bench.

“Yep, pretty much. Use to drive my parents nuts,” she said, hunting through cupboards, looking for a bowl. They had to be here somewhere.

“I can see how that might be,” he agreed, propping his chin on his hand.

“Can someone answer my question?” Her voice was more persistent, demanding.

“Maybe if we had a frickin’ clue what you’re talking about, woman,” Quade retaliated.

“I want to know if Brayden’s behaviour is normal or not,” she said, getting the salad fixings from the fridge.

“What’s it to you, honey nose?”

He’d called her what? Honey nose—what the fuck was that about? she thought.

“Why did you call me that?” she spat back at Quade.

“Because it’s clear you can’t keep your nose out of other people’s business,” he said aggressively.

She spun around in search of a knife muttering “peoples schmeoples” under her breath.

“I want to know because I don’t want Rih getting hurt,” she said, squaring her shoulders, clearly thinking it was her God-given right to know everything about people.

“And you think we don’t want the same for Brayden?” Quade shot back.

“No, but it’s different,” she returned right back.

“How’s it different?”

“He’s a rock God and she’s…” Jazz was searching for words, wildly waving a wicked-looking chef’s knife around. “Well, she’s Rih and she’s my best friend, and as her best friend, it’s my job to make sure she doesn’t get hurt by some player.”

“Oh, so now Brayden’s a player,” he said, reaching over and snatching the floundering knife from her hand with an open palm.

How’d he get that so quick? She glanced at his hand—no oozing blood. She looked at the bench—none there either. That was some party trick! Her attention momentarily distracted, she jumped back into the fray.

“Hey, I was using that,” she complained.

“Not anymore, honey nose. Sit your cute little ass down on a stool.” He rose from his position at the bench and rounded the corner. He grabbed her by the biceps and half assisted, half hefted her onto a stool. “I’m going to finish the salad. The way you’re going, we’ll all be in the hospital from stab wounds.” He shook his head. “And you’re a doctor. Frickin’ unbelievable.”

“Oh, fuck off, Mr Stick Up His Ass High and Mighty.” This guy was so full of himself it was unbelievable, she fumed.

He glared at her. “You just called me what?”

Oh dear, maybe she had just grabbed the tiger by the tail. Never show fear. “You heard me. I called you a Mr Stick Up His Ass High and Mighty.” It seriously sounded lame the second time but she wasn’t backing down an inch, even though alarm bells were ringing like mad in her head. Maybe she’d picked a fight with the wrong guy? No backing down now. That was for wusses.

“Right, that’s it,” Rory growled, slamming his hands on the granite counter with enough force to almost shatter it. “The pair of you are bickering like five-year-olds.”

Rihanna and Quade both glared at each other and then turned their heads away silently, declaring a draw.

Rory stopped doing what he was doing to the meat and turned to her. “To answer your question. I’ve never known Brayden to be like this over a woman and I’ve known him for close to twenty years. So I think his intentions are true. Now how about you reciprocate, Jazz?”

Part of her silently thanked her lucky stars that Rory had intervened. She didn’t think he’d hit her but all that harnessed fury Mr TD&H was carrying around sure could be scary. Nah, what was she worried about? She could handle him, she convinced herself.

Rory continued to look at her expectantly. Oh yeah, he wanted her to answer that pesky question. “Umm, well, Rihanna’s never really been in a relationship before so it’s kind of new territory and I don’t want her getting hurt.”

“Fair enough, but why no relationships?” Rory asked calmly, returning to his meat marinating.

“She’s been too busy studying, working, researching to ever spend time on relationships.” It was the correct answer but from the looks on their faces, they knew there was more and they wanted it. “Yeah, you’re right there’s more but it’s not mine to tell.”

“Well, at least tell us whether she’s serious about this?”

Jazz considered his question for a moment. “For the first time ever, I think she is.”

“Okay, that’ll do for now. Are you almost done there, Quade? I’m going to BBQ this. I’ll check on the lovebirds. Try not to kill each other while I’m gone.”

Jazz was about to come out with something flippant but somehow managed to check her mouth. Maybe it wasn’t so wise to go head to head again with Mr TD&H without Rory around to wade in.

***

“So what do you think?” Rihanna said, toying with her wine glass, relaxing on the lounge. She had finally managed to get a moment alone with Jazz. They’d all recently finished dinner and the guys had gone down the hall to Brayden’s games room, which Rihanna had discovered the other night came equipped with a pool table. Not surprisingly, they put it to good use. She felt the blood rush to her face and she was getting turned on just thinking about the incredible things Bray had done to her. OH MY GOD, it had been seriously hot.

“What just came over you?” Jazz asked curiously.

“What do you mean?” Rihanna stammered, realising she’d been caught out daydreaming about Brayden.

“You’ve got this naughty look on your face.”

Rihanna’s hand flew to her face. Shit, how could she be so obvious? “Umm, just thinking about something,” she said coyly.

“Yeah, right. More like what you did with someone.”

Rihanna grimaced; it was no use trying to get one past Jazz. “Well, I guess I’ve been sprung.”

“Sweetie, you shouldn’t worry about that. It’s great to see you actually interested in something other than work.”

“I guess, but what do you think?” Rihanna couldn’t mask the worry in her voice.

“I think he seems totally into you, but there’s definitely more to that guy than meets the eye…” Jazz trailed off.

“What do you mean?”

Jazz pondered Rihanna’s question. “What I mean is that he seems to me like a guy who has many layers. In fact, I think all these guys have lots of layers to uncover.”

Rihanna slapped a hand over her face. “Shit, now I’m worried.”

“Don’t be. You can’t expect to know everything about somebody in a week, Rihanna. It takes years to get to really know some people. For instance, I’d lay money that Brayden and Rory know Quade better than any other people. But I’d bet there’s still lots of stuff even they don’t know.”

“Yeah, he is the dark, brooding type,” Rihanna confirmed for her. “What did you call him at dinner? I meant to ask but the conversation kind of rolled on.”

“Oh, I’m calling him Mr SUHAHAM.” Rihanna just looked at her with a puzzled expression. “Mr Stick Up His Ass High and Mighty.”

Rihanna’s eyes went as wide as saucers. “You called him what? Mr Suuuhaham.” Rihanna was trying to get her tongue and head around it.

“Yep, I did.” Jazz crossed her arms over her chest grumpily.

“What happened? Why would you call him that?” Rihanna asked, aghast at Jazz.

Jazz looked a bit sheepish. “We kind of had a fight.”

Rihanna had stunned written all over her face. “You what….how?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, I just wanted some information and he called me honey nose,” Jazz fumed.

“Tell…me…what…happened…right…now…Jazz.”

“Oh, well, I just asked them whether Brayden was serious about you in a roundabout way. But we kind of had an argument getting to that point. Quade thought I was being a sticky nose, asking questions.”

“Well, you are persistent, Jazz, and I can see how that might have got him offside given that he’d just met you.”

“Ha, he’s just a Mr SUHAHAM,” she said moodily.

“Not everyone is comfortable answering all your endless questions, Jazz,” Rihanna gently reminded her.

“I was just trying to get the lowdown. Trying to make sure my bestie wasn’t about to get her heart broken. Guess he didn’t take kindly to my line of enquiry.” Jazz shrugged her shoulders, indicating it was here nor there.

“Guess not, Jazz. Quade doesn’t strike me as the type you antagonise.”

“I wasn’t antagonising him, Rih. I was simply asking questions to make sure you weren’t going to get used up and spat out. Excuse me for trying to look out for my best friend.”

Rihanna giggled. “You seriously had a spat with Quade over this? All because you wanted to get information for me?”

“Yep, it never ceases to surprise me what I’m prepared to do for you.” Jazz tossed her long red hair. “I must be stark raving mad.”

Rihanna couldn’t resist. She asked, deadpan, “Is that your professional opinion?”

“Oh, piss off. The thanks I get for looking out for you.”

Rihanna giggled. “Thank you. I do appreciate it.”

“I know you do, sweetie. You’ve always been there for me and if it means that I have to poke a bit at Quade to get what I want, then I’m happy to risk the scars.”

“Surely he’s not that bad, Jazz?”

“Man’s so full of himself it’s unbelievable. All that dark and brooding.” Jazz was almost cursing him again the way she said it.

“Yeah, he is that. But at least you got what you wanted.” Rihanna tried to console her.

Jazz giggled. “Actually, Rory told me what I wanted to know.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Rihanna nodded her head.

“Umm, I’m a bit embarrassed to say that I’m not sure where it would have got to with Quade if Rory hadn’t shut us down. It was getting pretty heated.”

“Oh well, don’t worry about it. Everything seemed to be fine at dinner.”

Jazz laughed and shook her head. “Ha, like you’d know. I think you spent all dinner playing footsies with Brayden. And don’t think I missed his hand inching up your thigh.”

It was Rihanna’s turn to look sheepish. “Umm, guilty on all accounts.”

“Nothing to be guilty about. Geez, if he was mine, I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off him.”

“Well, I have to admit I seriously struggle. Seems like we’re always going at it. But I just can’t help myself most of the time. He says something and I melt. Then the next thing you know, I’m back in bed or on the pool table or in the spa or on the bathroom counter,” she rattled off, running a mental tally of all the places they’d had sex. Many more than once.

“Hey. Rih. You know how much I love the details but even I’m starting to reach my limit.”

“Sorry, I’m just so…” she trailed off.

“I know. Into him.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s it.” Rihanna started to fiddle with the zipper on the cushion she’d put on her lap. “Do you think it has any chance of working?” she finally asked.

“I do. I think that finally you’ve met a guy that’s not put off by your freeze tactics. I think he’s also genuinely into you. Shit, he even admitted it in front of his friends. Not many guys would do that. Particularly after a week. The rest is going to be up to you. You need to give him a chance by trying to be at least open to the idea of it going somewhere further.”

Rihanna thought on her words for a few seconds. “You’re right. I just get so scared sometimes, when I see how shattered Dad looks half the time. Mum’s passing gutted him.”

“It did, sweetie, but only he can move on from that. You shouldn’t give up what could be, by worrying about what it mightn’t be.”

She knew Jazz was trying to be understanding but still forthright with her thoughts about this. “I know you’re right. Shit, you’ve even got the piece of paper to say you’re good at this shit.”

Jazz just laughed. “Having a piece of paper saying I’m a shrink has nothing to do with it. I know this because I’m your best friend and have watched what’s happened to you for most of your life.”

Rihanna shifted across the lounge and hugged Jazz.

“Thanks, Jazz, I really appreciate your opinion.”

Jazz squeezed her hard. “I know. Now do something positive with the advice.”

“Okay,” she promised and broke the hug.

Jazz stood. “Right enough girl chat. There are three hot men in there to perve on.”