The dark one was really tall, maybe six five tall. The blonde a whisker over six feet. But both of them were seriously built—actually just like Brayden, now that she thought about it. These guys were seriously big but didn’t look gym big. Something else. All were definitely drool worthy.
Rihanna motioned to her, bringing her close to her right-hand side. “Jazz, this is Brayden James,” she said, indicating Brayden. He reached forward a large hand for Jazz to take.
“Hi, nice to meet you,” he said, smiling warmly. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Oh no, and here I was thinking I was going to make a good impression.” Jazz moved her hand to her brow, pretending to cringe from his comments. He laughed lightly at her gag.
“Don’t worry; Rihanna loves you, so that works for me.” She lifted her eyebrows at him. Interesting choice of words, Mr James.
Rihanna motioned towards the others, taking her attention from Brayden. “And this is Quade Roston.” She indicated Mr Tall Dark and oh so Handsome. “And this is Rory Southall.” Blonde Surfer boy hit her with a one thousand-watt smile; it was so powerful she almost stepped back from the impact.
She took the offered hands and felt the tingles run up her arm from both of them. Shit, how did Rihanna stand to be around all this male hotness? Knowing Rihanna, she probably didn’t even notice. Girl didn’t have a clue how lucky she was.
Rihanna sat and motioned for Jazz to take a seat beside her. Quade resumed his seat, now beside Jazz, and Rory took up his as well.
“Wow, how do you stand living with a view like this?”
Brayden laughed at her joke. The outline of the Surfers Paradise skyline was clearly visible from her position at the table. It was simply spectacular.
“I think I said something very similar,” Rihanna agreed.
“Oh, it can be tough sometimes. But someone’s got to do it. Luckily that someone’s me and Rihanna seems to be pretty happy helping me. Hey, Minky.” He smoothed a lock of Rihanna’s heavy hair back from her face. Rihanna squeezed his hand that was resting in her lap.
Jazz’s heartbeat picked up. Soooooooo cute. “Minky?” she questioned.
“Oh, that seems to be a new nickname for me,” Rihanna explained.
“Why Minky? I don’t get it. Or don’t I want to know?” Jazz asked, curious.
“Yeah, Stud. Quade and I have been wondering that, too.” Rory gave Brayden the universal “do tell” stare.
“No, totally innocent. Rihanna’s hair reminds me of a mink pelt. All the vivid colours that come through when the light hits it. It was one of the first things I noticed on New Year’s Eve.”
That explanation had both Rory and Quade laughing and shaking their heads.
“See, man,” Rory said, turning to Quade. “I told ya he was totally gone and the reason you can tell is that he’s not the least bit embarrassed about admitting to the sappy shit.”
Quade was slowly shaking his head. “Never thought it would happen. Definitely not happening to me.”
Very interesting. Even his friends thought this was serious.
“I know this guy’s a muso. What about you two? Are you in the music industry as well?” Jazz asked. Innocent enough question surely? So why did Mr Tall Dark and Handsome suddenly look so uncomfortable?
“Oh, we’ve been mates with Brayden for years. We all went to uni together. Now we share some mutual business interests,” Rory smoothly covered the question.
“So what do mutual ‘business interests’ mean?” Jazz felt Rihanna immediately stiffen beside her this time. Now THAT was interesting.
“The three of us are involved in an organic agricultural business,” Rory added some further detail.
“So you’re farmers?”
Rihanna burst out laughing at that.
Something quick passed between the three guys. Did Brayden just nod at Rory? Did Quade twitch his right eye? Weird. Something was up.
Rory moved his head, subtly capturing her attention again. “No, we’re not farmers. Our involvement in the industry is related to the investigation and eradication of noxious diseases and pests.”
“So, what you make is pesticides?”
“No, that’s where the organics comes in. We prefer the natural approach. Therefore, we try to only use totally organic means to help industries eradicate threats.”
“Cool. So you’re Earth Warriors.” At this, everyone burst out laughing. In fact, Rihanna was in the process of taking a sip of wine and it clearly went down the wrong way. Her laughter was more along the lines of hoarse coughing. Bray started gently rubbing her back.
“So what do you do, Jazz?” Quade had settled from the laughter and was pinning her with a direct gaze.
She felt the tiny hairs on her arms and neck stand to attention at his words. “Umm, I’m in the medical field,” she offered.
“What exactly in the medical field?” The question came back so quickly she knew there was no skirting it. Payback was a bitch. But why did she feel as if Quade had turned a thousand-watt spotlight right on her?
“Okay, I’ll admit it. I’m a shrink,” she said a little shyly.
Rory whistled. “Wow, that’s not what I expected.”
Jazz nodded her understanding. “Mental health is the topic no one wants to touch.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I’m always curious why people choose their paths. So why psych?”
Rihanna shot her a worried look and started reaching for her arm.
Jazz took a deep breath. “My sister committed suicide when she was nineteen. I was fourteen at the time. I guess I always wondered if she’d got help whether she’d still be with us today.” She felt Rihanna squeeze her forearm in support. Rory’s question had cut right to the heart of the matter. Normally, she avoided disclosing so much about herself but for some reason she really didn’t understand, she decided to give the total truth.
The table had become very sombre at her words. She didn’t mean to ruin the mood.
“Oh shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—” Rory hastily tried to add.
Jazz cut him off and smiled broadly. “Well, that was one of the reasons I took up psych. The other was to deal with my multiple personalities,” she joked, trying to lighten things.
At that, she got the laughter from everyone she expected.
“Yeah, Jazz is the only medical specialist I know who carries on like a teenage groupie over rock bands. The teenage groupie is just one of her personalities.”
“So I should consider myself warned?” Bray put in.
Jazz flashed Brayden her most seductive smile. “Absolutely. The only reason I’m not all over you is because you’re clearly smitten with my best friend.”
“Jazz, shut up,” Rihanna squealed, horrified.
Jazz turned to Rihanna, deadpan. “What? You know it’s the truth; I’d be all over him.” Jazz was purposely missing the point. She could hear the guys laughing but kept her eyes focused on Rihanna.
Rihanna looked even more horrified.
“Jazz….” Rihanna’s voice went higher.
Jazz clicked her fingers like it just dawned on her. “Oh, you mean the bit about him being smitten. Well, as they say, what looks like a duck, quacks like a duck…and he sure looks smitten to me.”
“Jazz, shut up, I’m dying here,” Rihanna hissed.
“What? Even his friends said he was gone,” she said with mock innocence.
Rihanna had paled and just looked horrified, shaking her head.
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 sugge
sted, 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.”
Finding Trust (Centre Games) Page 23