Enduring (Family Justice Book 8) Read online

  He deflected with a joke and earned her grimace. Dammit. This relationship stuff was hard.

  An unexpected pout—a real one—shook her up. She wasn’t that girl—a pouter.

  The silence lasted only a few seconds, but it felt longer. Finally, his tight expression relaxed.

  “What would you say if I whipped a ring out of my pocket right this second?”

  “Honestly?” she murmured. “I’d say yes.”

  “Then we’re making progress.”

  “What’s holding things up?” she asked.

  “The L word,” he succinctly replied. “Hear it, say it, mean it.”

  She looked at her precious son in Jace’s arms and saw the future looking back. All she had to do was be brave. When she took the leap, he’d be there to catch her.

  He handed the baby to her and kissed Sophie’s cheek.

  “In case you’re interested, I’m partial to October.”

  Huh? “The month?”

  “Yup. Thirty-one days of autumn awesomeness.”

  Why was he telling her this? His birthday was in July and hers was November. Teo was born in May.

  “I’m out, m’lady,” he announced with a glance at his watch. “Thank you for the kiss and fascinating conversation. What say we continue this over dinner? Let’s go to Pete’s. We can relax, talk, and spy on my cousin and Finn at the same time.”

  He didn’t wait for her answer. “I’ll pick you up. Message me later. When you’ve wrapped up here. Okay?”

  Chapter 16

  Charlie plopped a binder in her lap and put her feet up on a wood crate while she used her phone. All around her was a steady bustle of activity. The finishing touches for the variety show were underway, and with less than forty-eight hours to go, excitement was ramping up.

  She was energized by the creative flow going on and couldn’t wait for it all to come together. Her visits to Bendover were like mini-refreshers. These folks were one-of-a-kind, and she was tickled that she and Caleb had been so eagerly embraced.

  Speaking of her devastatingly handsome lover, Charlie glanced around quickly to make sure no one was looking over her shoulder and brought up her favorite picture.

  Caleb.

  Wearing a towel loosely hanging on his hips.

  With an erection that made the towel tent in an interesting way.

  Her sigh said it all. The man was sex on two legs, and those two legs fit perfectly between hers. Like earlier, this morning, when he’d body slammed her onto the breakfast table and yanked her thighs apart. Her mind burned with the memory. Sometimes, he left his manners at the door—usually after being taunted by her—and the result was always hotter than hot.

  Ingrid was making a beeline in her direction, and she looked like a crisis was brewing. Closing the photo file, she cleared her throat and reluctantly sat up. Sliding the phone into her pocket, she flipped the production binder open and studied the tabs. They needed more chairs on the night of the event and finding a solution fell to her. Luckily, there was a list of local vendors, and she was certain one was a rental company.

  “The chickie tails aren’t working,” Ingrid griped. “Did you see them in rehearsal? They don’t stick out or wiggle the way we envisioned. Mostly the tails droop.”

  “Oh, no. Really?” Charlie worried her lip and thought about the problem. Without the silly costumes, the Junior Justice chicken dance performance might end up a still life. “Wait! How about pipe cleaners? What if we attach some bendable stems to the feathers? It’ll give them movement, and after they’re tied on, the costume folks can adjust for each kid.”

  She liked Ingrid Bartholomew. There was something infectious about the woman’s positive outlook—a leaning the world could use a little more of. Being a glass half full person herself, Charlie was drawn to others of similar energy, so it was no surprise they developed an immediate chemistry.

  Before their conversation could continue, Ingrid shrieked with alarm and ran toward the side of the stage. The stage crew was attempting to move a piano and doing a piss-poor job of it.

  A tentative voice behind her startled Charlie, and she spun on her seat to see who it was.

  “Hi. I, uh, wanted to say how great the sets look. You really captured what Meghan was going for.”

  Remington Bisset. She’d never known a more standoffish yet oddly compelling woman. They’d come across each other countless times during Charlie’s visits but that never stopped the dark-haired female from coming off as though they just met.

  She broke into an open, friendly smile and thanked her for the compliment with a grateful bow.

  “Red makes it so easy. Her vision for this place is powerfully evocative. It’s a joy to take her ideas and create something.”

  Remy’s dark eyes were sharp and assessing. Her expression made Charlie wonder what had happened to make her so reticent.

  “And for real, Remy—you did all the work. All I did was jet in at the last minute, so the credit goes to you and your team.”

  Ingrid’s continuing freak-out caught their attention, and they looked toward the unfolding commotion. “What’s that about, do you think?”

  “The piano was donated—anonymously. To Ingrid, it’s a holy object, but the kids on the stage crew don’t seem to understand that it’s a musical instrument and not a refrigerator.”

  Something in Remy’s voice caught Charlie’s attention. She glanced at the piano and noted the other woman’s keen interest as Ingrid shouted instructions and moved the equipment into place.

  A possibility, although far-fetched, made her ask. “Did you say an anonymous donor?”

  Remy’s immediate answer seemed to confirm Charlie’s suspicion.

  “Yeah. Untraceable. But Meghan thinks Alex’s parents are behind it. She’s just not saying so publicly.”

  Charlie was close to one hundred percent positive that the evasive woman trying to deflect the subject knew more about where the piano came from than anyone else.

  “Maybe we should check things out. I have a pretty good ear. Let’s see if the rough handling means it needs tuning.”

  She didn’t give Remy any choice and hurried her to the beautiful baby grand.

  Though Remy played the piano, she tried like crazy to blow off her ability until Jace let slip that she trained as a concert pianist during her younger days.

  Charlie pushed her onto the piano bench and motioned with her hands. “Play something I’d know, and we’ll see how it sounds.”

  Ingrid caught her eye and raised one brow. She knew what the other woman was thinking.

  Remy sat still and stared at the keys. Charlie suspected she might either refuse or would play chopsticks.

  For a few seconds, her hands hovered over the keys, and then she stopped every person in their tracks. The deep, rich tones of the baby grand filled the large room. She went with Clair de Lune . The familiar tune and the way she played was mesmerizing and hauntingly beautiful.

  When the song faded to silence, Charlie swallowed a lump of emotion. It was not okay that Remy hid her incredible talent.

  “Sweetie,” she exclaimed. “You’ve got to perform for the show. That was incredible.”

  “I don’t play in public. Not solo.”

  She was about to ask why when Remy’s boyfriend strode across the stage and stood sentry at her side.

  Finn O’Brien was one hell of a looker—and he was also about the most protective male she’d ever seen. And since Caleb was a protective nightmare—same for her sisters’ husbands—that was saying a lot.

  He calmly stared her down with an expression that dared her to cross him. She liked his style and let him know this with an arched brow smirk.

  It was interesting, though, because at first, she thought Finn was there to tend Remy’s comfort zone, but he had a few surprises up his flannel sleeve.

  “You’re doing something with Domineau, aren’t you, babe?”

  He stroked her shoulder, and she looked up at him. “Yeah.”


  And that was it. No clarification. She frowned. Charlie was aware of the super-secret musical number Lacey was planning. Why wasn’t she tooting her horn?

  Remy pursed her lips. “It’s not about me. All I’m doing is backing up the vocal. And it’s just the after show. No big deal.”

  She’d never come across anyone so closed off. Remy’s reluctance to chill the hell out really bothered her. Whatever emotional burden she carried was keeping her from enjoying life, and for Charlie, nothing was sadder than that.

  A solid case of the swooning giddies replaced all sober thoughts when she saw Caleb’s confident swagger as he cut across the multi-purpose room. It was definitely amusing to watch every female over the age of consent throw herself in his path. He was stopped no less than four times on his way to her! Once by a giggling senior citizen who asked him to help move something heavy.

  Used to the performance, she made a joke of the routine and smirked playfully at Finn and Remy.

  “When I met him, he would sign autographs and pose for fan selfies around the clock. I thought when we left Europe behind and he wasn’t gossip fodder any more, this nonsense would stop.”

  Finn’s boyish grin reminded her that when it came to men and their toys, Caleb took pole position. His legend as a Formula One driver guaranteed the attention.

  “St. John challenged him to a buggy duel in the desert,” the Irishman drawled with a clownishly exaggerated brogue. “I expect that eventually it’ll be pistols at dawn.”

  Remy’s whole body shook with laughter. “I’d pay good money to see Draegyn St. John eat someone’s dust.”

  Smiling in welcome as her fella maneuvered around and through the piles of props and scooted behind the piano, she forgot everything else when he kissed her hello.

  “Hey guys,” Caleb drawled. “What’s up?” He shook Finn’s hand and gave Remy a two-cheek welcome that she returned without hesitation. At moments like this, it was easy to see Remy’s European roots.

  Without realizing he was stepping into something, Caleb motioned to the piano and nodded enthusiastically at the other couple.

  “Do you play?” he asked, and then as he so often did, he just kept motoring. “My overachieving big brother wants his daughter to take lessons. She’s a toddler,” he quipped with a doubtful chuckle.

  Seeing her opening, she took it. Winding around Caleb’s solid arm, she slid her fingers against his and gripped his hand. Support? Maybe.

  “Ingrid and I are trying to convince Remy to perform. For the show. She’s classically trained, did you know?”

  Remy squirmed, but Finn positively beamed. “And not only that, my girl could wipe the floor with Billy Joel in a piano face-off.”

  A flash of amusement crossed Remy’s face. Her reaction to Finn’s jesting quips wasn’t what Charlie expected. She eyed the Irishman with renewed interest. Had the handsome bar owner maneuvered behind the front lines and found the entrance to Remy’s secret emotional fortress?

  Wow. Interesting didn’t cover it. The way the other woman engaged with Finn was totally different from her interactions with the rest of the planet.

  Remy sniggered playfully. “My dad likes to point out that I can Elton John anyone to death, whip up the troops with the aforementioned piano man, and bring down the house with some carefully applied Jackson Browne. He’s one of dad’s all-time favs.” She shrugged off her talent and then chuckled. “Oh, and my mom still thinks Liberace was the shit, so I have some of that silliness going on as well.”

  Charlie pointed out that Liberace was actually a brilliantly talented musician. What she didn’t say was that he hid behind a façade. A little like Remy.

  “Babe,” Caleb said with a tug on her hand. “Is it okay if I take off for a bit? I want to take Alex into Flagstaff. Show him the cool stuff at that renovation depot. I’ve got a set of Spanish doors set aside that are perfect for something he wants.”

  “Oh, lord,” Finn drawled. “Now what’s he up to?”

  “The family quarters in the Villa need a repurpose. There’s a whole wing of empty rooms.”

  “Stevie and Aiden have upped everyone’s game.” She detected a heavy dose of affection in Finn’s voice and smiled. Twins were a special blessing.

  Remy stood and hugged her arms around her middle. “There are multiples in my family’s gene pool.”

  Charlie noted the protective body language and saved it for pondering at another time.

  “Really?” Finn seemed astonished.

  His shock must have loosened her up because she nodded and had a short laugh.

  “Yeah. My grandmother was a twin. On my mother’s side. And believe it or not, my dad has a distant cousin who knocked out triplets without intervention.”

  “Dude.” Caleb snorted with laughter as he smacked Finn’s arm. “Better buckle up, man. Your sister has twins and Remy’s family comes packing!”

  Charlie’s assessing gaze took in Remy’s every breath and heartbeat. How would she react to Caleb’s teasing?

  As she studied the enigmatic female, Charlie watched a slow-moving flush move from her neckline and onto her face. She bit her lip and tried to hide behind her hair.

  Very interesting.

  And just like that, she was done with them. There were other things for her to think about. Like dragging Caleb into an empty room for some giggles and a quick shag.

  “Excuse us, please.” She smiled and winked. “Things to do. But do carry on. I believe the topic was what song Remy is going to share with everyone at the show.”

  Twinkling her fingers, she suddenly squealed and flinched when Caleb boldly grabbed her ass.

  She took his hand and pulled him along. They left the busy multi-purpose room and stopped in an empty hallway. She looked right and left, deciding where to head.

  Then she remembered there was a small lounge at the end of the hall, and off they went with her wicked man chuckling and offering dirty comments the entire way.

  Chapter

  “There,” Heather said. Their eyes met in the mirror. She was standing behind him as he sat at her vanity.

  “See? No need to get crazy and cut your hair. We’ll just give you a 50’s do-wop curl and pretend the ponytail is invisible”

  The gentle brush of her fingers on his cheek made Brody’s skin quiver. She had that effect on him.

  “I’m guessing you like the long hair,” he teased.

  Her playful laugh was confident and decidedly wicked.

  “Not many men can pull off the look. I am, however, bummed that the beard is gone.”

  He laughed. “Can’t play the part with facial hair, and after all the rehearsing and subterfuge, I want this thing to be perfect.”

  She looked more exquisite and beautiful than ever with a warm glow in her eyes that drew him in. He was picking up a shift—one that he couldn’t quite pin down—that demanded his attention. Attention he was happy to give.

  “If perfection is on the agenda, rest assured that Stephanie worked her pageant skills on my wig. It’s exactly what we want. Same for my dress. Spot on.”

  Excitement thrummed in every corner of his body. The thrill and challenge of live performing was something he’d loved since his earliest memories. The Double M variety show was giving him an opportunity to let his inner theater kid shine in more ways than one.

  Not only were he and Heather going to knock everyone’s socks off with an iconic dance performance, but he had also helped choreograph several other numbers and was coming to the private after show stage with a few kick ass surprises.

  Shit, even Bella and the kids were pumped up and raring to go. He made no secret of the fact that he found his daughter’s stage presence quite thrilling.

  Turning on the bench seat to face her, Brody pulled his ladylove close. Wrapping his arms about her waist, he held tight with his face on her stomach. She stroked his head. He felt her sigh in the way her body moved beneath his cheek.

  They’d be married soon, and he found that he was more
and more eager to seal the deal. Their wedding on New Year’s Day promised to be the start of an incredible journey.

  He’d never been happier.

  “I have a surprise.” She sighed.

  He pulled her onto his lap. Wisps of hair escaping a messy knot framed her face. She had a happy light in her eyes.

  “Tell me,” he encouraged.

  “After a bazillion hours of binge watching wedding shows, I’ve found the perfect dress to say yes to.”

  A surge of exploding joy burst open inside him. Heather Clarke was his bride, and she had found her perfect dress.

  He fist pumped, grinned, and drawled, “Yass!”

  Her indulgent eye roll was adorable.

  “Now that the dress has been chosen, we can start planning.”

  “Do you know what you want?” he asked while stroking her back.

  “Have you spoken to Alex? Is he on board?”

  Brody smiled. “Hell, yeah, he’s on board! Got all crazy about being an ordained minister. Said maybe Justice could offer warrior weddings that he could officiate—to make a few extra bucks.”

  She almost toppled off his lap with gales of laughter.

  “A few extra bucks?” She giggled between snorts. “God, that was funny.”

  “Where are we doing this? I’m assuming you’ve involved the ladies in the preliminaries.”

  “Of course.” She snorted. “I’ve got this—don’t you worry! The actual ceremony will be for family and close friends at the chapel. Meghan strong-armed me into a Villa reception. We’re going to choose a tent next week.”

  “Make sure there’s enough room for a dance floor and a band.”

  “I knew you’d say that.” Her smile was loving and blissful. “She found a place that will come out and put down a barn floor. Rustic elegance is big business in wedding themes. It’ll be lovely. Lots of draping and twinkle lights. Very romantic.”

  Her smile broadened, and he reacted in kind.

  “Are you okay about visiting with Pops before our honeymoon?”

  “Oh my god, of course,” she assured him. After a lengthy kiss, she told him about a recent conversation with his aging grandfather. “He’s sending Bella an old chess set he bought off an antiques dealer. The pieces are hand carved.”