He laughed. “More than just my mum, love.”
It was my turn to blink before I nodded slowly. “Yeah? That’s where you want to go with that?” I socked him in the stomach with the back of my hand.
But in true fucking Jonah style, all he did was laugh as he caught my hand in both of his, holding it lightly. “Oi! I was talking about the other members of my family!”
“Sure you were.”
“I was!” He laughed some more, still blasting that full-watt smile. “I don’t have much experience with these types of things, but even I know not to bring up past girlfriends with your partner.”
I was his partner. In crime. I liked it.
Jonah brought my hand up in his, tucking it against his wide chest as we kept on following his mom up ahead of us. “I wanted to tell you, since we’re on the topic of families….”
Where the hell was this going?
“I called my brothers yesterday before I came over.”
I left my hand where it was. “That’s… nice.”
“They both remember you messaging them on Picturegram. I spoke to one, and the other left me a voice mail. Would you like to hear it?”
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, MÄori, 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.