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“Right. Um, sorry.”
Renard stood as Raid started peeking under the foil. His eyebrows rose as he saw a whole lasagna in one pan.
“Hey, those are for Hannah!” Renard stormed over to him. “Hands off, Malone.”
“All of this food is for Hannah?” Raid asked.
There was enough food to feed twenty people. And there would still be leftovers.
“Yep. It is.”
“For me?” Hannah got up and walked over to them.
“Hannah, sit back down. You’re supposed to be resting,” he said warningly.
“Hey! Watch how you talk to her, boy,” Renard snapped.
What the hell?
Then the other man turned to Hannah. “And you . . . sit back down. You fainted. You need to rest.”
“Isn’t that what I just said?” Raid asked.
“You’re a Malone. I don’t listen to what you say. Not unless your name starts with A and you can add it to the word smart.”
Dear God.
“Renard, you really made all this food for me?” Hannah asked, staring down at the food in shock.
“You fainted, girl.”
“Does everyone know?” she whispered.
Renard shot her a look. “Everyone knows. You know how Haven works, girl. You grew up here. Nothing is a secret and everyone is worried about you. What the hell is going on with you?”
Raid watched the shutter go over her face at Renard’s words. “You can tell everyone not to worry. I’m fine.”
Renard just snorted. “You can’t fool me, doll. And you’re not fooling anyone else with this act, either.”
She shot him a look. “It’s not an act. This is who I am now. And while it was nice of you to make all this food, you really shouldn’t have. I can’t accept it.”
“Holy crap, is that an entire tray of mac and cheese?” Raid gaped at Renard.
“Hannah loves Italian. There’s also some potatoes au gratin. Guess that’s French, not Italian, but she likes that too. You got some steak, put them on the grill. Steak goes great with potato au gratin. And a mushroom risotto. And there’s tiramisu in the cooler bag.”
“Tiramisu?” she asked.
“Yep. That’s her favorite,” Renard informed Raid.
Raid didn’t care if she wanted to eat the whole tray herself. Or that Renard knew her favorite food when he didn’t.
If she ate it, he would be fucking ecstatic.
“You should take it all back,” she said.
Renard snorted. “Didn’t spend hours making all this food just to take it all back. Don’t be stupid, girl.”
“Don’t call her stupid,” Raid growled at him. There was no way he was going to stand by and allow Renard to talk like that about his girl.
“What?” Renard snapped. “Of course I can. I can call her stupid if she’s being stupid. I do it all the time.”
“He does,” Hannah confirmed.
“Not anymore,” Raid said firmly.
Both of them gave him surprised looks. To his surprise, rather than get angry, Renard smiled. “Is that so?”
“Yes.”
“About fucking time. I’m going now. Girl, you eat this food, understand? I hear you’ve fainted again, I won’t be happy. You taking her to the hospital, Malone?”
Raid scowled but decided it would be easier to answer. “Jenna’s coming to check her over.”
“I guess that’s acceptable. I’ve got to go. Got more important things to do than stand around and chit-chat with the two of you. Stop taking up all my time.” He stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him.
Raid looked from Hannah to the door. “Did that just happen?”
“I think we were just Renard’d.”
“What?” Raid asked.
“It’s what some people are calling it after you’re, um, given a taste of Renard’s brand of showing he cares. I can’t believe he made all of this for me.”
There was such shock in her voice it made him frown. “Well, of course he’d make all this for you. Why wouldn’t he?”
“I didn’t realize he cared.”
“Enough food to feed the San Antonio Spurs says otherwise, darlin’.”
“I guess it does, doesn’t it?”
It was stupid, but he wanted to be the one to put that look of wonder on her face. Not grouchy, eccentric Renard.
“Fucking Renard.”
She shot him a look. “You sound almost jealous.”
He just grunted.
But out of the corner of his eye, he saw her face lighten for a moment.
Did she find him acting like a jealous idiot funny?
Well, he could do that with his eyes closed.
“Right, what do you want to eat?” he asked.
“Tiramisu.”
“Good choice.” He didn’t care what she ate.
As long as she damn well ate.
“Back on the sofa, though.”
“I shouldn’t eat on the sofa. I might spill something.”
“Would you even notice a mark on that monstrosity?”
“It’s not that bad.” She made her way back to the sofa as the doorbell went again. “I can get it.”
“You’ll sit,” he ordered. “I will get it.”
“Bossy,” she muttered.
But she sat. Satisfaction filled him.
Yep. He definitely liked being in charge.
11
Hannah tried to avoid Jenna’s gaze.
She knew that her friend just wanted to know she was all right. But she was feeling far too vulnerable to let anyone in.
