Enduring (Family Justice Book 8) Read online

  “Does Alex know?”

  He hoped not. “If he does, he hasn’t said anything.”

  FiFi’s little head poked above the side of her dog bed. A second later, she hopped up and trotted to the door. His sidekick was the best early warning system available.

  Remy followed the direction of his gaze and murmured, “Is someone coming?”

  The adorable fluffy hairball yipped a few times while her tail wiggled like crazy—a sign that whoever came through the door had previously passed the Lady FiFi test.

  “Barry said to barge right in,” his sister’s mocking voice called out.

  Remy jumped up, self-consciously brushed a hand on her pants, and hurriedly fussed with her hair. He thought it was overkill, considering the unannounced visitor was his pain in the ass sister—but he understood that while he found Meghan’s position with Justice amusing, others snapped to attention.

  He was also not at all surprised when Meghan produced a doggie treat out of thin air for FiFi. Only after she had greeted and fussed over the dog did she look up and acknowledge them.

  She was good. Really, really, really good! Finn crossed his arms and gave her a smirk. She played that lady of the manor thing to the hilt.

  “How did you get here?” he drawled. “Chauffeur? Town Car? Flying broom? Helicopter?” He made an exaggerated movement as if peering over her shoulder. “And where’s your bodyguard? Major Daddy let you wander off the reservation without full escort?”

  “Fuck off,” she replied with a corresponding hand gesture. “And I drove myself, so there!”

  Remy coughed over a chuckle and tried to disappear into the woodwork. He stopped her retreat by casually slinging an arm around her shoulders and then using her stiff body as a leaning post. She discreetly but painfully elbowed him in the ribs.

  “To what do we owe the pleasure of this royal visit?”

  Meghan mimicked an old school royal wave and smirked. It was great to finally enjoy their screwy sibling dynamic.

  “I’m here to spy on you, of course!”

  He scowled at her when Remy stiffened even more. Goddammit. Interfering siblings were a pain in the butt.

  “She’s just kidding,” he murmured, but Remy’s face told him what she thought of his deflection.

  “Am I?” Meghan mocked.

  An imaginary clock made a loud ticking sound as they stood their ground and tried to stare each other down. He expected Meghan to occasionally stir the pot, but her timing was really shitty.

  “Wow.” Remy chuckled. “Knowing you two years ago might have saved me a ton of dollars on therapy.”

  He looked at her quizzically. “Huh?”

  She let loose with one of her patented smirks. “Only child anxiety.”

  Meghan cackled with glee and winked at Remy. “As the only girl in a house full of Irish lads? The number of times I wished they would take their boy cooties and go away cannot be counted!”

  Remy stepped away from his embrace and high-fived his meddling sister. Then they looked upon him with pity. He grinned like an idiot, pushed out his chest, and hiked up his pants.

  “You know you want a piece of this! Admit it!”

  “Jesus, Finn, I hope you’re talking to Remington and not me.”

  FiFi yipped. Apparently, all the females had to weigh in.

  “He thinks I like him,” his lady-in-denial muttered. It was the setup line to more jokes about their confusing relationship, but Meghan landed a good one before Remy could say anything else.

  “My husband and I think he’s right.”

  That deafening silent sound? Boom! Advantage, Meghan.

  Though he hadn’t asked for their opinion, he was thrilled to hear Alex and his sister were on his side. He looked at Remy to gauge her reaction.

  It was evident that she didn’t know what to say. Meghan offered a smile but didn’t back down. He was stunned into frozen silence when she added, “Finn will always do the right thing, Remington. He’s Justice whether he admits it or not.”

  Wow. Maybe Meghan’s timing was perfect after all.

  “I have to go,” Remy quickly grumbled. She was an expert at turning tail and skipping away. “Sorry,” she muttered in a no way believable tone. “Meeting Heather and Ingrid.”

  “You’re headed to the Double M? Really? Awesome,” Meghan chirped. She smacked her hands together and rubbed them back and forth. “I’ve got some stuff in my Explorer for Ingrid. Do you mind saving me the trip?”

  Meghan started moving for the door without waiting for a reply. Remy knew she was trapped. Finn caught her nearly imperceptible flinch.

  “Thanks so much, sweetie. I have to get back to the Villa. Leaving the Major alone with the twins for too long always leads to trouble. The other day, I found them rolling around the play yard’s postage stamp size grassy area. All they had on was a diaper!”

  It was the perfect thing to say because the obvious comeback was too fucking funny to ignore—and Remy went for it in fist bumping style. “They make diapers that fit the Major?”

  They looked at each other and dissolved into hysterical laughter after a particularly hearty fist bump.

  Meghan observed them from the doorway with a dry expression that only made him laugh harder.

  “Zorro in a diaper!” He slapped his thigh and laughed some more. “That is so going in a text to Dev.”

  “You two deserve each other,” she sniped, but Finn heard the affection in her voice.

  “Sorry, sorry, sorry.” Remy snickered. He laughed while she tried to get it together. Cracking jokes at the expense of her employer and his wife was funny as shit, but even he had to admit it was an iffy proposition.

  FiFi sensed her mommy was leaving and ran to Remy. Meghan smiled indulgently and gave him some sisterly arched brow. It dawned on him that her visit was sure to end up being more of a third-degree relationship interrogation than a casual drop by.

  But, he thought, priorities. Remy first; Meghan second.

  Stepping in, because that was what Da taught him a man does, Finn lightly stroked Remy’s back while she cuddled FiFi and accepted a face full of energetic doggie kisses. No matter how strange and quasi fucked up their arrangement was, Remy and FiFi were his girls. They were … a family, and at that moment, he truly did not care what Meghan thought.

  He walked them to the door and was prepared to go all the way to Meghan’s car—whatever Remy needed—but she put a hand on his arm after handing FiFi to him. Finn searched her expression. It was a relief when she made no effort to hide her eyes. He gave her a swift kiss and waved them off with the dog cuddled against his chest.

  “Mommy’s a badass,” he told FiFi after they made the turn toward the parking lot.

  A tiny yip felt like the dog’s agreement.

  “We just have to love her all that we can and then love her a little bit more. She will come around. You’ll see.”

  Meghan openly grinned when Remy got a look at the ton of crap in the back of the Explorer.

  Remy laughed and gestured to the haul of boxes and bags. “What the hell, Meghan!”

  “I know,” she admitted with an indifferent shrug. “Got carried away, I guess.”

  “You guess?”

  “Ingrid said props. Then Charlie gave me a wish list for her art class. I went to The Basement Attic just to see what was available. I enjoy a good thrift shop, don’t you?”

  “Are you kidding?” Remy joked. “Best pair of cowboy boots I ever wore came from a secondhand store. Got ’em when I was fifteen. Saved all the money I could from babysitting. My mom was so proud! She had to explain to my poor dad why he couldn’t just buy me an expensive new pair.”

  “I knew there were more reasons why I liked you, Remington Bisset! Secondhand shoes are practically a rite of passage! I scored a pair of Jimmy Choos at a hospital run consignment shop. Still have them,” she proudly crowed.

  Remy gestured to the many boxes and overflowing bags. “Did you leave anything?”

  S
he shrugged off the question. The woman who ran The Basement Attic was trying to make her mark as an entrepreneur. Meghan admired her drive and tenacity. She also had two kids who signed up for a couple of Double M activities. So what started as a quick looky-loo trip turned into a major haul because it was the right thing to do. The struggling businesswoman got a bunch of sales, and Meghan intended to make sure she also got a complimentary ad in the variety show program.

  They moved everything from her Explorer to the bed of Remy’s truck. Meghan walked a shoebox crammed with a billion paperclips to the cab and set it on the front seat.

  “Give these straight to Charlie, please. One of her workshops is making stuff out of discarded items. There are enough clips there to build a fence!”

  Remy climbed behind the wheel and chuckled. “In high school, me and some friends made a prom dress from duct tape. It weighed a ton but looked amazing!”

  “My kids will learn how to make their own Halloween costumes! No store-bought crap.”

  “Seriously? Hmph. Where those kids are concerned, it’s kind of hard to imagine Alex doing any less than bringing in a professional designer.”

  She leaned against the open passenger door and quietly remarked, “Alex grew up in a regular neighborhood with Little League and Girl Scout cookies. His family was not silver spoon born despite the Valleja-Marquez name and the reality of the Villa. Everyone worked damn hard to get where they are. Cristián and Ashleigh gave up everything here to live in Spain and resurrect the family vineyard and label.”

  Remy sighed. “I didn’t know any of that.”

  Meghan saw an opening and dove in headfirst. “Appearances can be deceiving, but I suspect you know all about that.”

  When Remy spoke, a confession, an admission, or a plea—Meghan was not sure which—came tumbling out.

  “I don’t want Finn to get hurt, Meghan. I keep trying to make him see that he doesn’t want a piece of this, but he’s so damn stubborn and won’t listen.”

  “Remy, he loves you. What’s the problem?”

  She had to hand it to the feisty female when she did not shrink from the obvious.

  “Look, I have no idea what you know, but since you and the Major are welded at the hip, I’m betting you have a basic picture.”

  “Fair enough,” she admitted.

  “I’m seriously fucked up, Meghan. Like, seriously,” she grunted in a long-drawn-out huff. “I’m not what he thinks I am.”

  “Have you asked him what he thinks, or are you putting words he would never say in his mouth?”

  Meghan wondered if the damn steering wheel would snap off when Remy gripped it and shook her head. “I did some fucked-up shit.”

  “Did you kill anybody? Is your name on a wanted list anywhere?”

  “No.”

  “Remy, cut yourself a fucking break, would you. Stop paying the damn butcher for a bill you absolutely do not have to pay. Some things are just a reaction. I understand more than you think. You can see Alex’s scars but some traumas leave unseen wounds. You didn’t wheel a shopping cart up and ask to haul someone else’s shit. Whatever you did to survive is what got you to today. To here and now. Finn is a big boy, sweetie. He can handle anything you throw at him.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Remy mumbled. “I don’t know how much more …”

  She cut her off. “Trust him, Remy. Trust Finn. Embarrassment can be gotten over, and my brother is the perfect man to make you see that between two people who genuinely care about each other, there’s no room for regret.”

  After Remy pulled away, she stormed back to Finn’s office and kicked open the door.

  “Talk to Da, Finn. Today. Now. Pick up the phone and call him.”

  “Why?”

  “Did you know he chats with your girlfriend on the regular? Like once a week regular?”

  “What?”

  Meghan rolled her eyes and gave a brief headshake. “Well, thank god you didn’t know ’cause if you did, I was gearing up to deliver the grandmother of all noogies, little brother.”

  He looked stunned. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes. Now clear your schedule, pick up the damn phone, and call your father.”

  Chapter 4

  “I don’t like this shirt.”

  Roman bit off a chuckle and studied Matty. He was yanking on his collar. Before he could offer a sartorial tip or two, the kid jumped off the chair he was standing on—for a better mirror view—and took off running.

  “Haveta brush my teeth.”

  Kelly scooted out of Matty’s way when she came around the corner to check their progress.

  “Whoa, dude!” she cried out with a laugh. “Rules of the road, okay?”

  The clearly jacked-up four-year-old had one thing on his mind and had no interest in what his parents had to say. Roman gave a lighthearted snicker.

  “First date anxiety,” he drolly reminded her. “He’s setting a standard.”

  She surprised the holy shit out of him by jumping on his torso, wrapping her legs around his waist and burying her face in his neck as she howled with laughter.

  He grinned and held tight. He would gladly take anything she wanted to give and thanked God for the privilege of loving the laughing female in his arms.

  Between hiccupping laughs, she tried to offer an opinion on their boy’s first date, but apparently, the subject was so hilarious, all she could do was snort and giggle.

  With tremendous reluctance, he lowered her until she stood and helped repair the damage a good snotty belly laugh triggered. It did not help much that she started laughing all over again when he soberly pointed out that the story of Matty’s future self-confidence with the ladies was forming right now and that she should take this thing seriously.

  “He’s four, Roman! What’s to take seriously?”

  She was right with her amused sarcasm but raising a boy to be a man took more than a pat on the head. From an early age, Roman was expected to show some goddamn respect for women and his elders. Lessons he had taken to heart. Manners, compassion, and common sense had served him well over his lifetime, and he was determined to pass those things on to his son.

  Without thinking his actions through, he lifted a hand and fisted Kelly’s long hair. A gentle tug had her eyes moving to his. He would be a fucking liar to pretend his dominant bell ring did not clang every time he subdued her with a subtle power play.

  “I don’t want our son to grow up thinking he can behave like a little shit and get away with it. No matter how you cut this, Kelly, in his mind, this is his first date. Instinct is what makes him nervous. Even without understanding the particulars, Matty knows in his heart what is expected of a man in these situations. You should be proud of him, Carina. This is your influence playing out. Well done, my love. Well done.”

  She absolutely, positively lit up and beamed. He grabbed the excellent opportunity staring him in the face.

  “Liam thinks you’ve done a wonderful job.”

  Her eyes dropped away despite his continued command of her head. Sighing was not an option, so he went with door number two—the direct route.

  “Don’t look away, Kelly.”

  He was about to tell her the high regard in which many people held her, not just her brother, when she interrupted by dropping a little truth bomb.

  Her gaze swung back to his, and he loosened his grip on her hair.

  “I promised Liam.”

  An air of expectation hung around them, but she let the bald statement stand on its own. If she wanted him to ask, he had no problem with that. As an experienced interrogator, he knew that sometimes all it took was a simple question to open the floodgates.

  Feathering his fingers down her cheek, Roman pushed long strands of hair behind her shoulder and encouraged her to continue with a slight smile and a verbal nudge.

  “What did you promise, Tesoro?” He used the Italian endearment deliberately. She did not need reminding, but he was happy to reassure her every step of the way.
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br />   The corner of her lush mouth curved up, and a glimmer of happiness sparkled in her eyes. She spoke of her brother in her usual slightly condescending way; only this time, he distinctly heard amusement. This was quite literally the first time she led with humor instead of a snarl.

  “Well, when that stuffed shirt masquerading as my brother showed his true colors on the morning of his wedding and I realized the Tin Man really does have a heart, he kind of had me in a corner.”

  Her mocking grunt of playful surrender got him grinning like a lunatic. At that moment, he had no problem if she promised Liam a Lamborghini.

  “Felt trapped and you know how that goes.” She shrugged and snicker-laughed. “Before I knew it, I was promising to try harder. You know ... make an effort.”

  “With Liam?” His question was spectacularly stupid and easily earned her eye-rolling response.

  “Yes, Roman. With Liam.”

  His mind quickly converted a shit ton of information, and instead of leaving it at that, he pushed ever so slightly. Kelly generally responded to challenge.

  “Will you qualify what making an effort means, please?”

  Discovering she was ready with fast answers told his investigative instinct she had been thinking this thing through.

  “Um, well … you know. Family dinners and such. And I was thinking maybe doing monthly game nights. Sam, Ginny, Liam, Rhiann, and us. Ginny has been talking about which sports teams we should root for. Create new traditions like Super Bowl chili and World Series picnics.”

  Roman’s smile broadened. She did not need his approval, but he was happy to give it. Then he let his sex drive briefly off the leash he kept handy for when their boy was around.

  “Football can be a fun time. Bet you would look hot in a cheerleader’s outfit. I know!” He chuckled. “How about we start our own tradition? The halftime fuck.”