I nodded, and he pulled his phone out of his pocket and started tapping at the screen.
“He’s the one in Melbourne. I left him a voice mail telling him about you and Mo, but he didn’t answer. Here. Listen,” he said before holding the cell in between us and pressing Play on the screen.
“Aw, maaaaaate. Your girl messaged me ages ago. I’m sorry, bro. Thought she was after a root…” There was a sigh. “Call me back, yeah? I want to hear about this niece of mine.”
Well, well, well.
He did remember reading my message.
Jonah gave me a sad smile that I immediately wanted to smack off.
“Told you,” I said, but without anger in my voice. “And what’s a root?”
That sad smile turned into a funny one as he reached up to scratch at his temple. “Ah, sex.”
Huh. “Which brother was this again?”
He didn’t wait long to start going through his phone again. Up ahead, I saw Jonah’s mom turn around to look at us, so I waved.
She didn’t wave back.
Fuck her too then.
Oblivious, Jonah held his screen to my face. “This is my brother, Arthur. The one in Melbourne.”
Not as broad at the shoulders and his eyes were lighter, but the family resemblance was still there.
Two steps later, he shoved his phone into my face again. “My younger brother, William. We call him Bill.”
With the same colored eyes as Mo and Jonah, he was slightly slimmer, which wasn’t saying much considering that Jonah was basically Hercules.
“This is Garrett. He’s the one who still won’t speak to me,” he explained before showing me yet another photo.
This one was a professional picture off the internet. The guy looked a hell of a lot like Jonah too, except his brow bones were more defined and he looked thicker. And I remembered why he looked familiar. He was the one even more famous than Jonah. The one who was the captain of the national rugby team.
And I suddenly didn’t like him so much for ignoring his brother.
But setting that notion aside, all four of the Collins men were handsome as fuck. Big surprise.
Yet I still couldn’t get away from the Garrett dude. “Why isn’t he speaking to you?”
“A few different reasons,” he hedged, almost thoughtfully. “He was mad when I left Auckland.”
“Why?”
“We played on the same team together there,” he said, like that explanation as enough. “We played on the All Blacks together too.”
It wasn’t. “So is he mad at your other brother for playing in Australia?”
“No….” He trailed off, considering that with a tiny frown. “We were close when we were young, but since I left home….”
“What else is he mad at other than you making a decision that made you more money?”
“He said it shouldn’t be about the money.”
I rolled my eyes. I was sure his brother, who I figured wasn’t hurting for endorsements, didn’t make any decisions based on financial matters. Yeah, right.
“But he hasn’t spoken to me since I was injured. I told you I didn’t speak to anyone other than my nan and granddad for months.” I knew he grimaced because I peeked at him right when he did it. “Including him. When I finally did call him back, he told me to fuck off. Called me a tall poppy, an embarrassment… heaps of other things I don’t want to repeat. So, yeah, we haven’t spoken in ages.”
The urge to kick his brother in the backs of his legs was strong.
So was the urge to look up what a tall poppy was, but that was for later. Because right then, all I wanted to do was wipe off the sad look on Jonah’s face. So I went with the first thing I thought of.
“Want me to sweep him if I ever meet him?”
His laugh went straight to my heart.
The arm he threw over my shoulders before tugging me into that enormous side was the topping on the damn cake.
“I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to give you a cuddle more.” He chuckled, dipping his head down to look at my face as he said that.
I smiled, relieved that had done the job. “I like hugs,” I told him honestly.
He grinned at me as he planted his mouth on my forehead and gave me a kiss there like it was the most natural thing in the damn world.
And I wanted it to be.
But I took the happy silence between us as we walked along the path with his mom and Mo up ahead. Moments later, with his arm still over me, our thighs brushing together as we walked, he broke the silence between us.
“Would you like to look at some of the pictures of my nan’s farm? Of home?” he asked, sounding almost... hopeful? “You loved that time we went out of the city and into the countryside, and I like to think that home is even more stunning. Most beautiful place I’ve ever seen.”
Home.
Damn it, hadn’t I just thought we needed to talk about that? How the hell had he sidetracked me so easily?
I nodded anyway. We could discuss it later. Tonight, I figured when he handed me his phone. I looked through at least one hundred pictures, maybe even two hundred. Beautiful green landscapes that looked straight out of a movie. Of sheep. Of a countryside, and if I was to use the word charming correctly, a really fucking charming little house tucked into a spread of grass and fence line.
One picture after another was filled on his phone of random things. Of an older woman who had to be his grandma, a man who looked like an older replica of Jonah who definitely qualified as GILF material with equally massive shoulders, dark hair, and rich skin. There were more pictures of people around his age with about the same skin color as his—the nicest blend of olive—a testament to their heritage of Samoan, Māori, Scottish, and who knew what else grandparents. There was this family mixed up of so many shades between cream and brown, it was unique and beautiful.
When I got to the last picture in his gallery, my finger hesitated over the options button.
And like a sneaky fuck, I hit the info button. The first picture had been taken months ago. Right around the same time he’d said he’d come back into the world, when he’d been sure he would be able to play again.
Something that was so much more than just relief filled up every cavity in my body, and I had to steel myself against it, just so I could handle it.
“So you left New Zealand just to make more money?” I blurted out, trying to sound casual but not feeling anything close to it.
That might have been the only time I would ever witness Jonah stumble as he looked at me over his shoulder and seemed to hesitate for a second before scratching at the back of his head. “Ah….”
“I’m not judging. I’m just asking.” Because it was the truth. “They pay you more overseas?”
He flashed me an uncertain smile. “A bit more, yeah.”
“Why do you sound embarrassed about that?”
He went back to scratching at his head. “I’m not, but not everyone is supportive of it.” He grimaced. “My mum wasn’t. My brother wasn’t. Most of Auckland wasn’t either.”
Ohhhhh. God, I was dense. “They’re mad at you for leaving?”
The sigh that came out of him said everything. “I can’t play for the New Zealand national team if I don’t play there. They take it like I’ve been unfaithful to them by going, but….” He sighed again, and I watched his eyes drift forward in the direction of his mom and Mo. “If I could still play for the All Blacks and play in France or Japan, I would, but it’s a sacrifice. I’m not getting any younger.” He glanced at me again before adding, “You understand.”
I did understand. “It’s the same thing with professional fighters,” I told him. “Or I guess most professional athletes in general. You don’t have to be ashamed of that. Anybody would have done the same thing. You work your ass off for yourself. You have to do what’s best for you.” Something he had told me in the past clicked in my head. “Wait. So if everyone is mad at you, and I’m sure you can’t exactly go walk around without
anyone recognizing you, where the hell did you go for those months while you were recovering? I thought you said you were at your grandma’s farm.”
“I was.” He nudged me with the back of his hand. “I, ah, didn’t leave the house much in those days. If I did leave, I stayed out of the way. By the time I did head into town with my granddad or nan, they had warned everyone off. That or risk facing the wrath of my nan. She even went to the physio with me every week.”
That had me perking up. “She’s scary?”
“Firm. Everyone knows better than to go up against her. She’s something, even now.”
“Your dad’s mom?”
He nodded. “Small town. No one said a word to me, and I wasn’t in the mood for it.”
I grabbed his arm. “Your mood was that bad? You?”
He laughed and shook my hand off, his palm sliding against my lower back. “I have bad moods from time to time, Lenny. You’ve seen it.”
If bad moods consisted of him being silent and broody for a little while… well… “I can deal with you being pouty.”
“Pouty?”
“Whiny?”
The hand on the small of my back slid up along my spine until his palm cupped the shoulder furthest away from him and he tugged me toward him a couple of inches, his laugh the soundtrack to the movement. “I don’t whine,” he hissed but chuckled at the same time.
I snickered and soaked up the wall of muscle alongside me.
And it was in the middle of me coming down from that, that I glanced toward my car and spotted the figure standing right by the hood.
The figure that even at this distance looked a whole hell of a lot like a woman. A woman who looked a lot like Grandpa Gus’s ex-wife. What the hell?
I must have made a noise that had Jonah looking in the same direction as me because he asked, “Is that…?”
“I think so.” Fuck. Digging into my back pocket, I pulled out my phone and dialed Grandpa’s number. “I don’t know what she’s doing here, but I’m about to find out.”
“Are you calling your granddad?”
I nodded as the ringtone came on.
“Why would he tell her where you are?”
I slid him a look as the phone kept on ringing. “I don’t know. He hadn’t wanted me to meet her in the first place. Goddamn it, he’s not answering.” He wasn’t going to answer. Ending the call, I dialed Peter’s number next. “Let me go talk to her and see what she wants—hold on.”
The “Lenny” came at me really quickly. Then, “I told him not to tell her where you were, but she insisted she wanted to talk to you.” He paused. “I’m sorry. You know we would never have wanted to put you into the middle of this.”
Fuck.
“Sorry, Len,” he said gently. “Good luck.”
“Love you. Bye,” I muttered into the receiver. What the fuck?
I got a “Love you” back a second before I hung up.
Jonah raised those thick eyebrows at me. “Bad news?”
I just shook my head.
That big hand went back to the base of my spine, and it stayed there. “I’ll come with you, make sure to pull you back before you say something you’ll regret.”
I made a face. “Good luck with that.” What the hell did this lady want? Why was she here? “Are your grandparents nice?”
“The best.”
The best. He was going to make me vomit.
“Do you think they’ll want to meet Mo?” I asked, more to kill the time while we got closer and closer to the woman who had spotted us and stood up straight.
“More than anything,” he responded. The hand on my lower back moved slowly over to my hip, and I let it, eating it up. “I was planning on giving her a call today to tell her the news now that I’ve talked to my brothers. She’ll have me promising to bring her over as soon as we can.”
“We? You want me to go too?”
Jonah leaned in. “There’s no place I wouldn’t want you to go with me.”
This fucking asshole had magic in him. That had to be it. Sorcery. Witchcraft.
Because this wasn’t right. My heart shouldn’t be doing this. My whole body shouldn’t be reacting like he was fucking crack.
Why? Why did I have to like him out of millions so much?
“Good morning,” the woman said before I could formulate a response to what the hell he’d just dropped on me.
“Morning,” I told her distractedly with all of the five manners that Grandpa had instilled in me,.
“Good morning,” Jonah threw in, with his immaculate manners.
Grandpa’s ex flashed him a hesitant smile a second before her eyes flicked in the direction of where I knew Mo and Sarah were. They moved back to me in the blink of an eye, and I could see her straighten, see her grasp for maybe strength, and then say, “Gus said I could find you here.”
“I know,” I replied. “Something I can help you with?”
She glanced back to the spot behind me, and I ate up the fact that I didn’t feel even a tiny bit guilty for not rushing Sarah over. “I didn’t know you were with your family,” she said, still looking away. “I wanted to see if you were interested in having lunch with me.”
Of course he’d left that part out.
I swear I didn’t mean to ask it the way I did, but the word just came right on out of my mouth like I was pouring syrup out of a bottle. “Why?”
She tried her hardest to mask it, but I could see her flinch. “Because—” She cleared her throat. “—I’d like to speak to you.” Her gaze moved to Jonah and back to me. “I’d like you to know my half of the story too.”
The words seemed so shallow, all I could do was look at her and feel the weight of Jonah’s hand settle even heavier on my lower back.
Her half of the story? That’s what this was about?
“You are my granddaughter,” the woman said when I just stood there and looked at her.
Okay, I could say this a little nicer. Just a little. “Well, yeah, technically. Biologically.” I squinted my eyes because I couldn’t keep that much of the smart-ass out of me. It was in me like I knew I had A positive blood. “I’m not trying to hurt your feelings or anything, but I don’t really care to hear your half of the story, as you put it.”
She didn’t wince or flinch or anything, this woman who looked more and more like me with every second I looked at her. Instead, she lifted her chin up higher. Her fucking nose too. “Well, I think it would be fair if you gave me the opportunity to explain what happened.”
I understood suddenly why my grandpa hadn’t told her to fuck off when she’d shown up to ask him for advice, or whatever bullshit had led her to showing up to Maio House. I really did. But the thing was, I didn’t give a shit. I didn’t give a shit about this woman who had never given a shit about me.
But for them, for them I would try and do this as politely as possible. Because I would never want to do anything to hurt them.
And this woman had the opportunity to do that if she wanted.
“Look, you haven’t been in my life in thirty years. You’ve had zero interest in it. I don’t know you. You don’t know me. You haven’t wanted to know me, and I’m fine with that. You don’t have to explain anything to me,” I said, wishing that I had my stress ball with me.
I couldn’t believe this bitch.
“It isn’t that I haven’t wanted to know you,” she tried to argue.
“How many times have you come to Houston over the last thirty years?”
That had her face going slack, her eyes brightening, her nostrils flaring. To give her credit, she answered. “Every few months.”
Every few months.
Wow.
I couldn’t help the smile that came over my mouth as I made sure to keep my gaze on her instead of looking at Jonah. I had to straddle this line as cleanly as possible. For Grandpa. For Peter. For Maio House. “I know why you got divorced. I understand, and I don’t blame you. Neither does Grandpa Gus. But I just don’t care to hear
whatever it is you want to tell me. Not when you’ve come to Houston who knows how many times over the course of my life and not cared to contact me. Not when you went to Maio House and didn’t make an effort then either, and the only reason I saw you was because I got curious and showed up. I know I’m not important to you, and I’m fine with it. You just don’t want me to think of you as the bad guy. I get it.”
My grandmother, because that’s what she was, blushed. I could see the hesitation—the anger—in her eyes. Yet somehow she managed to lower her voice as she said, “Your grandfather lied to me.”
“But I didn’t.”
“You don’t understand,” she tried to argue.
“No, I do. I’m a mom now too, and I understand better than you will ever imagine, Rafaela. You didn’t want anything to do with me or my dad, and you never will. How much more do you want to rub that in?”
Chapter 18
Subject: IMPORTANT
Lenny DeMaio:
Wed 3/22/2019 1:29 p.m.
to Jonah Collins
Jonah, please. For real. Call me back.
Email me back. I don’t care, but I really, really need to talk to you.
I don’t want or need anything: I just have to tell you something important, and I don’t want to do it over email.
“But I did pay.”
I stared at the phone sitting on my desk and pictured the face of the man on the other end of the line. A man I couldn’t stand half the time I had to deal with him. Then again, anyone who continuously lied to me annoyed the fuck out of me. He did this shit every other month. I took a deep breath in through my nose and let it back out again, feeling all my facial muscles get tight. “Damon.” I sighed. “Do you know how many times you’ve said those words to me?”
What that question got me was silence on the other end.
“I just checked Pablo’s bank account”—that was one of my rare lies—“and nothing has been deposited. It isn’t some magical glitch in the computer system that the payment didn’t go through. You haven’t transferred the money. Why do you put me through this every single time Pablo fights?” I asked him, leaning back against my chair and staring blankly at the wall in front of me in exasperation.
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