Always and Forever: Rugby Brothers, Book 3

by Tiara Inserto

  The scheduled trip to the airport meant missing a late afternoon workout at the gym; however, that also meant she saved babysitting money, money that was always needed for something else.

  She hadn’t lied to her dad; she was still doing okay. Brandon was always on time with his child support, so all of Aidan’s basic needs were met. But living from paycheck to paycheck was a lifestyle she didn’t like. And now, there were the additional costs of a masseuse, a nutritionist, and possibly the need for other specialists that the modern athlete might use to give her the extra edge in competition. Luckily, St. Anne’s allowed her to access them at more affordable rates.

  The reduced work hours she had asked Alistair for would start making a real dent in her budget if she didn’t qualify by the end of the year. Odd to think her dreams were based on how much money she had in her savings account; however, knowing she had a roof over her son’s head and that food was available in the fridge was non-negotiable.

  Her recent successes at the meets reignited the need to know if she were good enough and if she could compete at the highest level. The desire to try was so strong that it helped manage the fear of living with financial uncertainty on most days.

  Most days.

  She glanced at Aidan, his light brown hair falling over the face that was the spitting image of her ex-boyfriend. So much for her DNA entering the mix, she mused. When she shared her desire to go back to competitive swimming last year with her son, his reaction was lukewarm at best. Their verbal sparring had increased over the summer. Suddenly, everything she’d ask him to do needed an explanation. While he had yet to complain about her increased pool and gym times, she would find herself facing looks of apathy or boredom.

  What happened to the little boy who would look at her with such joy? She could do no wrong in his eyes back then. Those days were over.

  “Is that him?”

  “No, bud. You’ve seen his picture. He has shoulder-length hair. Here, this is one of him in civilian clothes,” she said, handing him the photo she had printed late last night.

  While her son and father may know who Mano Palua was, she wasn’t sure if she could pick him out of a crowd, especially in a big one like today’s. She had been tempted to put up a sign, but she felt self-conscious enough as it was, picking up a stranger. There was quite a selection of pictures of Mano, mainly of him in uniform or on the field. There was also a handful of photos in more casual settings.

  Taken from afar, he was usually with three or four men. A couple of others were with the same beautiful woman, suggesting interest in him went beyond the sport. There was also a small blurb in what she thought was a New Zealand gossip magazine speculating the end of a serious relationship.

  Eden looked at the clock. It’d been an hour since Mano’s flight had landed, but with three other planes arriving at the same time, she suspected the delay was at immigration. She looked around at the busy Arrival Hall, enjoying the scenes of people greeting loved ones. An older woman bestowed many kisses on a baby who was now in her arms. A woman in army fatigues rushed by them and threw herself into the arms of a man. Were they long separations? Eden wondered. Did it matter?

  Eden smiled at the well-dressed gentleman with flowers in his hand. He looked eagerly at the TV screens above them, installed to show the live feed of passengers who had already cleared Customs and Immigration. Their presence didn’t stop the crowd gathering at the barriers which were yards away from the glass doors. Anticipation among the waiting rose slightly each time the opaque doors slid open, satisfying a handful of people at a time.

  “Mom, I think our rugby player has arrived.”

  Eden followed Aidan’s raised hand, now pointing at the stocky figure dressed in black sweats and a pullover. With his dreadlocks tied back, Mano’s cheekbones were especially prominent. His profile was one that time would have little impact on. He looked as if he was carved out of granite.

  She lifted her hand in greeting. Mano nodded, hooded eyes catching hers immediately. She inhaled sharply at being the subject of such intensity, even from a distance.

  He moved toward her with long, confident strides and carried a backpack over one shoulder while pulling a suitcase. Despite the eagerness of the crowd to reunite with other emerging passengers, Eden noticed everyone gave him a wide berth. It wasn’t just his size—he was about six feet tall, and loose clothes didn’t hide his physique—he walked with a self-assurance that dared anyone to cross his path.

  “Do they all have necks that big?” Aidan whispered.

  “You’ve met some of the rugby players at the college.”

  “None of them look like him.”

  Eden chewed on her lip. He was right. Mano Palua didn’t look like any rugby player she had ever seen either. He wasn’t that tall, but he was sure big. She swallowed. “You ready, bud? Let’s welcome him to California.”

  She knew he was in his mid-30s and was playing competitively until earlier this year. Her trained eye recognized he moved as if still in shape; his build reflected a disciplined lifestyle.

  “Eden?”

  She took his offered hand. It was rough, and his grip was firm. “Hi! Welcome! Good flight? Alistair sends his apologies again….” Her voice faltered. She noticed a bead of sweat around his forehead. Despite being tan, there was a hint of paleness underneath. “Are you okay?”

  He nodded. “Just a long flight.”

  “Mom?”

  “Oh! Yes…uh…this is my son, Aidan. Aidan, Mr. Palua.”

  “Please, call me Mano.”

  “How do you do, sir?”

  Sir? Eden stared. Did her thirteen-year-old just exhibit some…manners? She risked a sideways glance. Then again, Mano Palua would fall under the category of someone who commanded manners without needing to ask for it.

  “Pleased to meet you, Aidan.”

  “My granddad says you’re a world champion. I’ve never met a world champion before, though my father medaled in the Games once. Like before I was born.”

  “A Games medal means he was a champion.”

  “Do you have to be as big as you to become a rugby champion?”

  “Aidan!” Eden covered her son’s mouth. “Sorry! He’s like me. A bit of a motormouth. You know. Stuff comes out.” Aidan pushed her hand away, his glare saying more than words could at that moment. Eden laughed nervously. “What he meant was…”

  Mano’s face remained impassive, unreadable. Granite. Dark eyes stared at Aidan. “You’ll find players of any height on a rugby team.”

  Her son continued to surprise her when he offered to help with Mano’s luggage. If the larger, obviously stronger man found the offer amusing, he didn’t let on. Aidan stayed by Mano’s side as they walked to the parking garage. She could just hear him ask Mano more rugby-related questions. She wondered if her dad had coached Aidan on any of these questions.

  Mano, to Eden’s relief, was patient with Aidan’s unexpected inquisition. Or so she hoped. She should step in and limit Aidan’s questions, but it had been so long since her son did anything other than door-slamming and eye-rolling in her presence that she welcomed this glimpse into the young man he was growing into.

  “I’m over there, in the black Forester,” she said, leading the group to the far right of the parking area.

  She popped open the trunk for Mano to put his bags in. He slid silently into the passenger seat. She turned on the radio instinctively after starting the car. Fifteen minutes later, when the San Francisco skyline started to appear, Eden pointed to some of the more iconic buildings of the city. “And if you like baseball, or even if you don’t, on our right, you’ll just be able to see the stadium for the San Francisco team. It’s one of the better-designed stadiums in the whole country. We like it there, don’t we, Aidan?”

  Aidan grunted.

  She looked in her rearview mirror; her son glared back.

  “And now we’re on the lower span of the Oakland Bay Bridge,” she continued, keeping her voice as neutral as possible. “I
t’s not as famous as the Golden Gate, but this is the bridge that takes us home.”

  Music didn’t seem to fill the car as she had hoped. She cleared her throat. “Once we pass Treasure Island—which used to be a naval base—we’ll be on the newest part of the bridge.”

  Mano concentrated on the passing scenery through his window. “Is your name really Eden Pak?”

  His voice was so unexpected that she glanced at him. But his face remained averted. “Yes,” she said. “Eden was my maternal grandmother’s middle name, and Pak is my father’s family name. It’s Korean.”

  He grunted.

  “Why?”

  “It’s the name of the largest stadium in my country.”

  “Like a sports stadium?”

  “Yeah. I’ve had some of my best memories playing in that stadium.”

  “Why didn’t you ask about it when I emailed you?”

  “I didn’t want to be rude and ask such personal questions until we met.”

  She nodded at the logic. “Pak’s quite a common Korean name.”

  He paused. “Liana Murphy sends her regards. She said you were a big help when she visited the campus.”

  Eden smiled. “She’s great. I must admit I hadn’t realized how famous she was. I don’t follow soccer at all. Are you good friends with her?”

  “Yes. Her husband, Mitch Molloy, and I played together for most of our careers.”

  Half an hour later, she exited the freeway and drove toward the eastern end of Seven Hills. When she turned into a familiar cul-de-sac, Aidan spoke for the first time since the airport.

  “Hey! Mrs. Yuan’s car is in the driveway. Can I go over?”

  “Only if it’s for a quick hello. We’re not staying long, bud. We need to get Mr. Palua into the house first and make sure he has everything he needs. Like good hosts.”

  “And how long is that going to take?”

  “Aidan!”

  She saw it for the first time then: a shadow of a smile on a face that revealed nothing. She had to remind herself not to stare. Not just a man of few words but also a man of few expressions. What would it take for a full smile?

  Eden fished for the house keys that she had picked up from the office yesterday. She wiped her feet on the outdoor mat before unlocking the door to enter the small ranch house.

  “Okay, we’re in. Mr. Palua is in the house,” Aidan said. “Can I go to Matthew’s house now?”

  She sighed. “Yes, but if no one is there, come straight back, understand?”

  He rushed outside before she finished her sentence. She stood on the porch watching Aidan ring the bright orange door. It opened to an excited Matthew who dragged her son into the house quickly. Patricia Yuan stepped out and waved to Eden, who returned the gesture immediately.

  “If you ever need anything, the Yuans are wonderful people,” Eden said, closing the door behind her. “I can introduce you to them, though I think Patty will do the honors herself. She’s one of those people who makes it a point to know her neighbors.”

  She suddenly realized that she was alone in the living room. She glanced around. This was one of the smaller ranch houses in the neighborhood. Probably one of the original ones, thought Eden, taking in the minimal furnishings scattered through the house.

  It had its original wooden floors, and a sizeable, neutral-colored seagrass carpet covered the sitting area where an L-shape couch was placed right under the large windows. The blinds were still closed, but once opened, they would let in plenty of light. A brick fireplace with a large mantle centered the room. It’d be the perfect place for Christmas stockings and a wreath, she mused. That was the one thing she wished she had in her apartment. She had fond memories of growing up with a fire in winter, her two dads always lighting one once the weather turned.

  She walked through the small dining area toward the kitchen. Clear glass panels revealed plates, cups, and glasses. A coffeemaker matched the chrome toaster, which sat on the otherwise empty counter. The only nod to color was in the bright red electric kettle. A back door at the far end of the kitchen was opened. She poked her head through it and spotted Mano walking toward the edge of the large backyard. He’d finished the last of his bottled water.

  She hesitated, wondering if he needed to be alone. She must have made a sound as he turned suddenly.

  His face reflected his surprise as if he’d forgotten he was not by himself. Then there was a brief second of vulnerability before his eyes rolled back, and he promptly fell facedown with a thud.

  CHAPTER THREE

  He heard her before he could see her.

  “Oh my god! Oh my god…don’t be dead…don’t be dead… Phone…phone… Where’s my phone? Mano? Mr. Palua? Mano?”

  Her hand was cool against his skin. Or was he hot? She reached under him, and he felt the strain in her body as she turned him to lie on his back. He heard his own moan as well as a clear sigh of relief from Eden. “You’re alive! Thank God! Oh geez… Mano? Stay with me! Don’t black out! I need to get my phone. I think I left it in the kitchen! I have to call an ambulance.”

  “No.” Was that whisper of a voice his?

  He heard her run to the deck and, in seconds, felt her gently elevate his legs and rest them on something hard. “Can you open your eyes?”

  His eyelids felt like lead, but he managed to part them enough to see dark eyes peer back, relief in them instantaneous.

  “I’m going to the kitchen. Don’t move. But stay conscious!”

  He wasn’t sure who was more surprised to see his hand on her wrist. “No.”

  “Mano, you just fainted.”

  “I didn’t faint.” The pounding in his head intensified, but he managed to keep his eyes focused on Eden.

  “Uh…okay… You didn’t faint. You just collapsed so hard the squirrels jumped from one tree to another.”

  He moved slightly, willing his limbs to obey his silent instructions. He knew his body. It wasn’t responding as it should. He pushed against the ground.

  “Slowly,” Eden whispered. He felt her arm reach around him, simultaneously supporting and pushing him up. She glanced over him clinically, a studied scan he was used to when medics would check him after a bad tackle.

  “I’m fine.” He winced internally at the abruptness of his words.

  She arched an eyebrow, obviously not impressed with his rant. “We’ll see. Stay here. Let me get you some water. Promise you won’t move, or I swear I’ll call the ambulance.”

  A soft wind rustled the branches of the eucalyptus trees around them, its faint scent wafting around the otherwise quiet garden. He rested his elbows on his knees and bowed his head. He couldn’t stop his eyes from closing, but as soon as he heard Eden’s footsteps on the wooden deck, he opened them again.

  He took the offered glass of water and drank it under her watchful gaze. Her phone buzzed, taking her attention off him momentarily.

  “My dad’s a nurse,” she explained. “He asked if you’ve been sick or exposed to sick people in the last few days.”

  He shook his head, then regretted the action immediately. The silent pounding went to the front of his head.

  “Did you drink a lot on the plane?”

  “I slept.” Mano fought to keep his voice even. No need for her to know how much effort there was in talking. “I’ve traveled a lot for work, Eden. I know the importance of being hydrated on long-haul flights.”

  “Is that a no?” She typed quickly into her phone. “I told him you didn’t drink much on the plane, may have lost consciousness for a second, and landed on your head.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You fell face-first into the ground.” She pointed at a flat patch of grass to their right. “Right there. You can even see your face print in the grass.”

  Despite the pressure in his head, Mano couldn’t resist looking to where Eden pointed. “That’s an exaggeration.”

  “Okay, Mr. Rugby-Champion, let’s get you into the house. I want to check your temperature. Do you
need help getting up?”

  It was the last thing he wanted to do, but he understood what she was trying to gauge. He took a deep breath then slowly rose. She stood close, her body ready to step in to shoulder his weight. He’d probably crush most people, but Mano suspected Eden Pak knew how to use the full strength of her body.

  He walked cautiously but independently to the deck. Once there, he grabbed the wooden railing and turned his body against it. He inhaled deeply, grateful that the world had stopped spinning.

  Eden stood next to him, also leaning against the railing, her eyes continuing their assessment. “Alistair said you chose this place?”

  An innocuous question, but Mano wasn’t fooled. She wanted to see if he was thinking straight. “Yeah. The backyard is bigger than I thought.”

  “Is that a good thing?”

  “It’s a very good thing.”

  He turned away from her study of him.

  “Listen, let me get Matthew’s mom. Patty used to be a doctor—”

  “No,” he growled. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Mano?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Were you always this stubborn with your doctors?”

  “I didn’t have a choice when I played professionally.”

  “Now?”

  “I’m not playing professionally.”

  “Well, I think you need to go to bed because you look like you’re going to faint again any minute.”

  “I don’t faint.” But the ground had started to move again.

  When he opened his eyes, it was dark and silent. Luminous numbers on the small radio clock on his side table flashed. It was early in the evening. He sat up slowly, his body aching at different points. The pounding in his head was gone, but there was a heaviness in his bones that warned him that he wasn’t in top shape.