Page 76 of More Than I Can Bear

“Bridgewater,” I said, able to see it now.

The Bridgewater Mill was a gorgeous restaurant nestled in the Adelaide Hills. Built in the 1850s, it was once a working flour mill, powered by a massive water wheel. The owners had built a restaurant/wedding venue into the building. It was beautiful, tucked away from the hustle of the city, and the food and wine menu was incredible.

“The Bridgewater Mill?” Adam said, a thoughtful look in his eyes. “It’s freaking gorgeous and the media’s hardly likely to be hanging out around there.”

“It’s also booked out months, if not years in advance,” Kaine said with a frown, but he pulled out his phone. “Luckily I know the owner well.”

Of course he did. Kaine was always having to go to bullshit meetings with other builders, business owners or politicians, but sometimes that worked in our favour.

“Reg?” he said when the other person on the line picked up. “Kaine Farrelly, mate. Yeah, good to talk to you too…”

His well practised patter washed over me and that’s when I smiled.

I knew my sleuthmates well. We’d grown up together, so I had to, right? But there was something that came from lurking in the background. I saw shit no one else did and this was what I saw. I knew that Kaine felt like he was living in Adam’s shadow some of the time and that, frankly, it pissed him off. He had too much big dick energy (even though we were all packing everything our mate might need) to be able to play second fiddle to anyone. But on the flip side, he was the only bloke that could pick up the phone and get straight through to the owner of an exclusive restaurant, get them chatting and, then, organise something special.

Some hours later we were freshly showered with our hair brushed back from our faces. Even mine. Adam had even tied his long blond hair back into a man bun. Mostly at Kaine’s insistence, but still. Each one of us was clean, smelling of expensive aftershave Kaine had selected and wearing clothes we’d ironed to his exacting standards. My clothes felt stiff, uncomfortable, the sort I only wore at formal events like weddings and funerals, but… I glanced at the other two and saw their cheeky grins, one part nerves, one part elation that Freya would even agree to this and I didn’t care a bit.

“This feels like the change room before the grand final,” Adam said and, all of a sudden, the mood shifted.

I didn’t believe him when he said he was giving up football. As long as I’d known him, Adam was always bouncing a ball, ready to jump into a round of kick to kick in the school yard, dominating on the field during lunchtime games and then at training. I’d never seen the fascination. I’d played when I was at school, mainly because Adam did, but my performance was always lacklustre.

My coaches always said I was fit enough, strong enough, had good enough reflexes to succeed at the game, but… I didn’t have the requisite hunger, not like Adam did. I think Kaine’s mind was going down the same route and Adam caught our serious expressions and then smiled.

“Just because it’s the same anticipation,” he explained. “Like if we go in tonight and do our best—”

“Freya is not a game,” Kaine corrected. “She’s a grown arse woman and you need to treat her like that, not as an objective.”

I watched Adam’s face fall, and not for the first time. Kaine could always cut him off at the knees better than anyone else.

“That’s all I want.” There was something naked and vulnerable in Adam’s face and that had me moving closer. “I just want a chance to get to know her properly, make amends.”

Kaine was going to say something more, but I stepped closer, grabbing Adam by the shoulder.

“You’ll be fine,” I told him. “She puts up with the two of us so…”

“Well, I’ll be a fucking shoo-in then, won’t I?”

Adam shot me a relieved smile and of course, like all Aussie guys, the bullshit started.

“Shoo-in?” Kaine said with a smirk. “Is that what we’re calling putting your foot in your mouth now?”

“Bullshit!” Adam shot back, punching his brother in the arm. “My foot? No. Freya’s? If she asks nicely.”

“Is this the point where I find out you have a foot fetish?” Kaine asked, jerking backwards. “Fuck, brother—”

“Not a foot fetish,” Adam shot back before his eyes went wide and dreamy. “A Freya fetish.”

“Yeah,” I said with a nod, “that’s about right.”

We’d left Freya at the apartment to get ready. Jack had volunteered to come around and assist, once we told her the plan. She’d looked a little pained at Adam’s announcement, no doubt anticipating what her boss would have to say about it, but she’d rallied quickly, discussing potential options for Freya to wear.

“Take this,” Kaine said, handing her his credit card.

“Ooh… Daddy’s giving us his platinum card to play with,” Jack said to Freya. “Does this mean I get to live out all of my Pretty Woman fantasies? Except the one where I go down on 1980s vintage Julia Roberts, of course.”

So to say we were all waiting to see what our girl had decided to wear was an understatement.

“You’re gonna bust a load in those perfectly tailored pants,” Jack said as she emerged into the apartment living room.

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