Finding Trust (Centre Games) (29 page)

“It gets better. He’s bringing in D and Angelo as extra backup for us. They’ll be here as well. He’s also called in Aaron and Mickey to beef up the other team immediately; the others are about twenty-four hours out.”

“Shit must be serious if he’s mobilised everyone on this gig.”

“Code Red for the Centre as of two hours ago. He’s even quietly alerted the SAS for this one.”

They all knew what that meant: immediate, high-risk danger with the potential for massive civilian impact, including casualties. Having the SAS on standby was a double code red. Bray could only remember one other time that the boss had put those boys on standby. The Aussie SAS boys were regarded worldwide as some of the most kick-ass operators in the world. Right up there with the legendary US Navy Seals. In fact, it had only become recently known that these guys had done a lot of the initial infiltration work in the last Iraq war. The SAS boys also had a special counterterrorism unit for exactly this type of thing.

“Marvellous,” Rory agreed sarcastically.

“When’s the boss arriving?” Brayden asked.

“Around seventeen hundred.”

“Great, just in time for dinner. Hope he’s bringing groceries. We’ve just about eaten our way through everything here.” Rory was thinking with his stomach again.

Quade smirked at that. “Yeah, he mentioned that Selena and Ali would be heading over mid-afternoon with supplies.”

“Guess we’d better grab the stretcher beds out of the shed and set ’em up in the games room,” Brayden bitched resignedly.

“Yeah, but I’m not giving up my room,” Quade grumbled.

“Me neither. Rules are first in, best bedded,” Rory agreed.

“Clearly Brayden was here first. He got the best bedroom and the best girl,” Quade threw out, deadpan. The guys all laughed at this.

“Oh, I don’t know, Quade. Jazz is hot, hot, hot and now single,” Rory reminded him.

“That girl is a huge pain in everyone’s butts.”

“Really? I swore I noticed a huge pain somewhere else when she was stitching you up last night,” Brayden needled him. “And don’t give us any shit about left over adrenaline from the fight. You want her something bad. You’re just too stubborn to admit it.”

“That’s total crap, Rory.”

“Whatever, mate. It’s gonna happen—not sure when, but it’s gonna happen,” Rory teased confidently.

“What are you, a fucking psychic now? She’s a total ballbuster and I’m not intending to have mine broken by a shrink, even if she has the hottest ass I’ve seen in a long while.”

Brayden and Rory exchanged smirks. “Keep telling yourself that, bro.”

Quade stood abruptly from the desk and headed towards the door. “We’ve got stuff to do or are you two more interested in playing Dr Phil?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Bray. I was kind of enjoying the conversation. How about you?”

“Well, I was certainly enjoying it not being about me for a change.”

Rory slapped him on the back in a “I’ll pay that” kind of gesture. They all headed for the door. There were beds to prepare before the invasion of the Centre kind.

Chapter Twenty-Three

“Dad, I can’t believe you’re here. It seems like I haven’t seen you in forever.” Rihanna ran up to her father and locked herself around him in a fierce hug as soon as he managed to get out of the car. He looked even more tired and his forehead seemed to be etched with even deeper lines of worry. His lanky frame seemed even thinner and she’d swear there were a few more grey hairs in his thick, medium brown hair. His brown eyes still held all their sparkle, though, she noticed.

“Oh Rih, it’s only been a week and I’ve spoken to you nearly every one of those days,” he said, downplaying her enthusiasm.

Gosh, her father was just so exasperating sometimes. “But so much has happened in the week, Dad.”

“That’s very true, Rih,” he agreed.

Rihanna heard a throat being cleared and dragged her attention away from her father to glance in the direction of the other men.

“Rihanna, this is Tom Anderson, and as you know he is the director of the Centre.” Brayden introduced her to a very imposing man. He was bull-chested with thick, thick shoulders. Surprisingly, he wasn’t as tall as she expected. In fact, he was only slightly taller than her, but the way he carried himself and the eyes—wow.

They were the eyes of a total predator. They were the colour of the cold ice blue of the arctic, where the sun hits the submerged ice shelves. They were mesmerising and he was quite intimidating.

His face was full of character and it was clear he had seen a lot in his days. He had the tanned complexion of a man who had spent countless hours in the Australian sun. His hair was salt and pepper and cropped tightly to his rounded skull. Everything about him screamed military.

“Dr Mason.” He held his hand out to her.

She immediately took it and noticed his firm grip. Not a dominating squeeze—he didn’t need to do that. His place in the world was very clear. Rather a firm shake full of confidence and silent command.

“Tom, it’s nice to finally meet you in person.”

He nodded in agreement.

“Right, Brayden, let’s get everyone settled. I’d like to get some preliminary planning done tonight,” the boss ordered, total business from the get-go.

“I’ve set up a Situation Room in the formal dining room. It’s the best I could come up with, given how many people I now have staying here.” He motioned for everyone to head inside. Rihanna didn’t fail to miss the not-so-subtle jab at his house becoming a hotel for the Centre.

“I’m sure it will be fine.” The boss totally ignored the comment. Rihanna doubted very much that he’d missed it; rather, he chose to ignore it.

They filed into the house, Tom and her father with duffels slung over their shoulders. Dylan and Angelo likewise carried duffels and brought up the rear.

Brayden pointed out a couple of rooms off the main hall. “Boss, you and Dr Mason can take your pick of these two. There’s a bathroom that adjoins both.”

The boss nodded his head and walked into the first, leaving Rihanna’s dad the second.

“D and Ang, you’ve got the games room. There’s a bathroom off the laundry you guys can use.”

“Thanks, mate,” Angelo threw over his shoulder as they headed off in the direction of the games room.

Brayden took Rihanna’s hand and gently pulled her along the hall and down through the double doors of the master suite at the end and closed them softly.

He turned towards her and took her other hand, leaving a sizable gap between them. “I know this is a bit overwhelming but you need to relax, otherwise you’re going to drive yourself insane.” He shook both of her hands, emphasising his point.

She looked up at him. “I know. But it’s not your father who’s going to soon find out that his daughter is sleeping with her…” She trailed off, not knowing what to call him.

“How about—boyfriend?” he suggested.

“Yeah, but to Dad you’re the guy who has been keeping me safe, not my boyfriend.”

“Okay, so he needs to know that. How do you want to tell him?” When she didn’t answer, he went on with some suggestions. “Do we just carry on like normal or do we go and have a chat with him?”

She looked down at her feet and fidgeted in place, her legs not wanting to stay still. “I don’t know. I know this is going to sound stupid but I’ve never introduced him to a boyfriend before.”

He laughed softly at her confession and smirked. “Well, Minky, there’s a first time for everything. Come on, we’ll go and tell him.” He moved toward the door, but Rihanna resisted.

“Umm, I think it’s something I need to do myself,” she decided.

“Okay, if you’re sure. I’m happy to go with you.”

His offer meant a lot to her but she needed to do this herself. “No, it’ll be better this way.”

“Okay, you go talk to your father and I’ll have a word with the boss. I guess I need to let him know what’s going on. He’ll be pissed if he just finds out.”

Rihanna looked more closely at Bray and laughed softly, the anguish at having the discussion with the boss evident on his handsome face. “I’m not sure which one of us has the worst job.”

He nodded in agreement. “I don’t think either will be a barrel of laughs.”

She took a deep breath and turned towards the doors. “Okay, let’s get this over with.” He followed her through the doors, his hand reassuringly at the small of her back.

***

Rihanna found her father sitting out by the pool, chatting to Jazz. Brayden had left her in the house to go and have his chat with the boss. She walked up and took a seat in one of the banana lounges beside her dad.

“Hey, love. We were wondering where you got to?” he asked.

Rihanna squirmed in her chair a little uncomfortably. “Um, I just had a couple of things to sort out with Brayden.”

Rihanna clearly heard Jazz sniff her amusement at her choice of words. God, she could be such a pain in the butt sometimes.

“Ah, Jazz, would you mind giving Dad and I a few minutes to have a bit of a chat?”

Jazz immediately sprung to her feet and made to head back towards the house. She turned as if remembering something she had to tell them. “Oh by the way, I told your dad that you and Bray were an item.” Jazz winked at her and flounced into the house, not looking back.

Rihanna froze and she felt the blood rise to her face. Jazz probably thought she was helping and maybe she was, but damn it there were just some things she had to do herself. Having thought that, right about now she’d be quite happy for the earth to open up and swallow her. Relationships, sex, and this sort of stuff was just something that she didn’t discuss with her father.

Her father remained silent, which didn’t really help either. Was he upset that she was “an item,” as Jazz so eloquently put it, with Brayden? “Um, so I guess you know. Brayden and I have become close over the last week or so.”

“So Jazz tells me,” he confirmed, turning to look at her directly.

Rihanna continued to fidget in her chair. She felt as if she were a teenager all over again. “Um, so are you okay with this?”

Her father raised his eyebrows and gave her a soft but knowing smile. “More to the point, are you okay with it?”

She dropped her eyes from his gaze and wrung her hands together. She tilted her head to the side. “I’m very okay with it; in fact, I’ve never met anyone like him.”

“Well, that’s good then. I figured it had to be serious when Jazz mentioned it before.” His positive response was reassuring and she felt the need to explain things a little further.

“Well, I’m not sure how serious it’s going to be at this stage. But we’ve both decided that there’s something there we want to explore, so we’re going to give it a go.”

Her father surprised her then; his face lit up with a beaming smile, one she’d seldom seen since her mum had passed. “Well, in that case I’m very happy for you. God knows I’ve been waiting long enough.”

“Oh Dad, I just hadn’t met anyone that I liked enough to be bothered with,” she explained.

“Maybe.” His expression was a little too knowing for Rihanna’s comfort. What wasn’t he telling her?

“What?”

“Nothing. You’ll figure it out when the time is right.”

“Figure what out? Gosh, you can be so frustrating at times, Dad. Everything doesn’t have to be a puzzle to solve.”

“Agreed, but you only truly learn when you experience these things for yourself, I’ve discovered.”

Rihanna was totally confused, not really sure what he was getting at, so she decided to change the subject.

“Ah, so how have you been?”

“Good. I could have done without those guys interrupting my trip last weekend but other than that, no complaints.” He relaxed back into the chair and swung his feet up, now much more at ease given the relationship part of the conversation seemed to be over.

“How’ve all these guys been treating you?” she asked, curious to know what it had really been like for him. Somehow she thought her experience with the Centre would be very different to the experience her father had.

“Rheeba’s been babying me something chronic. That woman clearly has too much time on her hands. Other than that, you know, just been working on this like you have.” That was her dad. He never complained, just got on with what was tossed his way. They continued chatting about the virus for a few more minutes. Her father was particularly interested in what she’d seen in the lab in Brisbane.

Finally, his stomach let out a loud rumble and she suggested they head in to sort out dinner. Before her father rose from the chair, she reached out and put her hand on his arm, indicating she wanted him to stay for a bit longer.

She took a deep breath and lifted her eyes to meet his. “Um, Dad, I should probably mention that I’m sleeping in Brayden’s room with him.” She waited for his response.

His expression remained stationary.

Oh God, he was horrified, she thought.

To her complete astonishment, he threw his head back and laughed. He laughed long and hard. To say she was dumbfounded was an understatement. Weren’t fathers supposed to react poorly to this sort of news?

“Oh Rihanna, you’re thirty years old, well and truly an adult. I figure you haven’t been a virgin for quite a while now. If you want to sleep with him, that’s between you and him. And as I believe you young people say, TMI, is that it?”

The blush had well and truly returned and Rihanna found herself at a loss for words right about now, so she dipped her head and nodded instead.

Her father got up and offered her a hand up, which she took.

“At least now I know my chances of a grandkid or two are a little better.” He gave her a wink and pulled her into his side for a one-armed hug. “About time I got to know this Brayden better.”

Well, shoot me now, she thought. Could someone please explain what had happened to her usually distant and stoic father? He never cracked jokes like this. Certainly not about sex and stuff like that. Her life was becoming just too weird.

***

“Boss, can I have a word in the office?” Brayden had found Tom in the temporary Sit Room, unpacking his laptop and setting it up on the formal dining table that was now being used as a pseudo-boardroom table.

“Can’t we just talk here?” growled the boss, annoyed at being interrupted.

“Ah, no, I’d rather pretend to have some semblance of privacy.”

“Fine, lead the way.” The boss didn’t bother masking his displeasure at being interrupted when he wanted to get down to work.

They entered the office and Brayden motioned to the couch and Tom sat, remaining completely rigid in his posture. Brayden chose to sit behind his desk. He needed the barrier that the desk provided. This conversation was not going to be easy.

“Well, what is it, James?” the boss asked impatiently.

Brayden had obviously been taking too long pondering how to begin the conversation.

“Ah, boss, things have gotten serious between Rihanna and I.” His voice remained calm and steady, somehow not betraying the nerves he felt fluttering in his stomach.

“Define serious, Brayden.” The boss’s expression hadn’t changed. It was cold, hard, totally business.

“We’re a couple, sir.”

“What—you’re fucking her?” he said, completely matter-of-fact.

Brayden felt the imaginary hackles on his back rise. His temper had now flashed from zero to one hundred in point zero, zero one of a second. He didn’t like the boss’s tone. That was Rihanna he was talking about. Their relationship was far more than ‘fucking.’ He didn’t realise but he’d half risen from his seat in anger so he decided to stand to cover his agitation.

“Yes, as you so blatantly put it, we’re fucking. But it’s much more than that,” Brayden confirmed for him.

“How much more?”

Brayden turned away, momentarily collecting his thoughts. How much did he really want to tell the boss? He pondered that for a second or two before he sensed the boss’s agitation at having to wait for his answer.

“Much more. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. She makes me want to re-evaluate my life.”

“You know there’s no getting out for you, Brayden, so why are you even considering this?” The boss was referring to the Centre and their commitments to it. Also the concealed nature of their true biological makeup made it impossible to truly be “normal.”