Desert Angel (Family Justice Book 2) Page 9

  “Sorry, Ponytail,” she muttered. “Sometimes I forget.”

  Angie watched the emotional interplay with interest. She knew a little about Lacey’s backstory. How she was abandoned by her only parent, abused for years, and eventually ended up a runaway living on the streets who survived by ingenuity and luck. Sobering stuff.

  “Yeah, well when I turned up here, I had a backpack stuffed with second-hand clothes and nothing else. I know about choices. If Cameron hadn’t rescued me . . . who knows what might have happened.”

  “And look at you now,” Meghan said with an abundance of praise and encouragement. “Married, a mommy, and in college! You’re kicking ass and taking names, Mrs. Cameron.”

  “College?” Angie quipped. “Are you crazy?”

  “It’s mostly online courses.” Lacey shrugged and looked a little embarrassed. “What a difference a year makes, huh?”

  Meghan blew a loud raspberry onto Dylan’s neck, which got him giggling and waving his arms.

  “And speaking of a year,” Tori chuckled as she watched Alex’s fiancée love up the adorable little boy, “don’t you guys have an anniversary coming up?”

  “Oh, my lord, I can’t wait!” Lacey gushed happily. “We’re going to Vegas for a long weekend. I’m going to see my first concert!”

  Tori groaned loudly and rolled her eyes. “What happens in Vegas . . .”

  All three women cracked up as did baby Dylan.

  “What’d I miss?” Angie asked.

  Meghan handed Dylan back to his smiling mama and then high-fived Tori. “Oh, didn’t you know?” she teased. “Vegas would be where the legendary Draegyn St. John awoke one morning to find himself married to a sharp-tongued wench after a night of drunken frivolity.”

  “Whaaat?” Angie barked on a full-bellied laugh. “Victoria! Oh, my god! For real? I knew you guys eloped, but holy hell! What is it with these Justice men? Unbelievable,” she muttered, shaking her head and giggling.

  The smirk on Meghan’s face reminded Angie of something. “Oh!” she shrieked. “And, by the way, what the hell was all that keeping count crap the other night, Red? Please don’t tell me you actually let my brother have the upper hand.”

  Quiet snickers met her comment then all eyes landed on a blushing Meghan.

  “He likes to think he’s in charge,” the embarrassed woman mumbled, which was met with more raucous laughter from Tori and Lacey.

  “All right. That’s enough,” Meghan told them sternly.

  Angie liked hanging out with Tori, Lacey, and Meghan. They were funny, smart, and dynamic. She felt completely at ease and like she belonged there with them. Another checkmark in the Arizona win column.

  Helping herself to the pitcher of ice-cold lemonade Lacey had plunked down on the coffee table, Angie topped off her glass and fixed Meghan with a mocking grin.

  “Since we’re talking about my brother, pass on the details, okay? There are some things a little sister does not need to know! But if his domineering ass is keeping some kind of score, I suggest you learn the art of the deal.”

  “Sheesh,” Lacey laughed. “Sounds like a TV show.” Breaking into a fake announcer’s voice, she boomed, “New on this season of Justice TV for Women is the groundbreaking series . . . Art of the Marital Deal.”

  Pretending to shove a microphone in Angie’s face, she asked, “Joining us today is Angelina Marquez, international deal-making expert. Tell us, Miss Marquez, exactly how does this work?”

  Ah! This was fun. “Simple really,” she quipped. “Men see the world as a scoreboard. They need to know what the stats are at all times. It’s how they navigate.”

  Angie grinned as the women nodded and chuckled at her playful description.

  “So, fine! Let them keep track if it makes them happy. But you can keep things interesting by taking advantage of a score stacked against you.”

  She let that comment sink in until she saw Tori’s head snap up, her face lit with humor. Angie wasn’t in any way surprised that naughty Victoria got there first.

  “Oh! You mean like demerit bargaining? You know!” She laughed, looking at all of them for agreement and understanding. “Demerit bargaining! Like . . . take five points off if I make nachos and let you watch the game without interruption! Get it?”

  Meghan burst out laughing. Apparently, baby Dylan also thought it was hilarious, which only got Lacey giggling like crazy. Yeah, they got it.

  “Hey, Ang,” Tori drawled. “Speaking of demerits, I hear you’ve got an epic shit ton of them stacked against a certain rebel lawyer who shall remain nameless.”

  Angie gasped. “What?” she shrieked. “Who said that?”

  “No good?” Tori squeaked. “Oh shit, Angie. I’m sorry. I mean,” she paused and looked at Meghan and Lacey for help, “everybody knows you’re pissed at him or something. Hell, Carmen mentioned that Parker has been avoiding the Villa and Draegyn, well . . . he’s dealing with Alex’s side of things.”

  Meghan rushed over and put an arm around her shoulders for a quick hug. “It’s okay, Angie. You’re among friends here. And just so you know,” she said with a nod to the other women, “what we say during ladies’ time stays off the record. Fuck! If we didn’t have each other as a sounding board and for support, it would make dealing with our men impossible. Understand?”

  “Parker Sullivan is a boob,” Lacey blurted in a sanctimonious sounding voice that got Meghan and Victoria falling over laughing.

  “Direct and to the point!” Tori yelped gleefully.

  Angie couldn’t help but laugh along. “I can’t imagine any way he could bargain his way out of the serious deficit he’s earned. Some points are permanent.”

  “Angel, honey,” Tori drawled. “You have come to the right place to talk about permanent points.”

  The skin on the back of Angie’s neck prickled, hearing Victoria refer to her as Angel, but instead of squirming at the reminder, she felt warmth circle in her belly.

  “Each of us here,” she continued, gesturing with her head to the others, “can tell you plenty about that. It’s something we’ve all faced.”

  “Sometimes,” Lacey chimed in, “you have to zero out and start fresh. Not all uhhh . . . demerits are equal.”

  Angie was humbled by who she was in the presence of. The men these women were referring to weren’t your average run of the mill guys. She’d heard stories of their wartime exploits and she wasn’t stupid. They each bore scars and not just the external kind like her brother carried. Their women had to be strong enough to accept that. Suddenly, she felt like an idiot bemoaning some hurt feelings when they had real shit to contend with.

  “Alex says you hardly ever come home. Is that because of Parker?” Meghan asked.

  Angie nodded hesitantly. It was the first time she’d admitted Parker was the reason for anything.

  Lacey plunked Dylan into an impressive baby apparatus that looked like a mini circus. The happy baby scooted around in his spinning seat and ended up staring at her with a slobbery grin. Damn, the kid was cute. He had dark hair like Daddy but his eyes? They were all Lacey. She and Cameron certainly made beautiful babies.

  Kissing her son on his head, she looked at Angie. “Alex treats Parker like a brother. He’s part of Family Justice. I’m surprised they’re that close if you and he are . . .”

  “Nobody knows,” she was quick to assure Lacey.

  “In the interest of full disclosure, let me jump in here and say that the Major knows something. He just doesn’t know what.” Meghan’s knowing nod spoke volumes.

  “Well, he’d certainly have more than a clue after the scene I caused the other night.”

  Tori looked at her excitedly. “A scene? There was a scene? Irish!” she squealed at Meghan. “You’re holding out on us.”

  “Shush, Tori,” Meghan waved at her dismissively. “Hush. I want to hear more about how nobody knows. Doesn’t know what exactly?” she asked pinning Angie to the spot with a penetrating stare.

  “Can I t
ell you something without you freaking out or running to my brother?”

  “Unwritten rule number four-oh-seven. Unless there’s danger or safety is an issue, we never tell.”

  Angie said it quickly. Like ripping off a Band-Aid, she wanted to make it painless and as instant as possible.

  “I’m thinking about moving back to Arizona. Permanently.”

  Meghan blinked heavily like she was trying to translate a foreign language. Lacey said, “Oh, wow!” while Tori clapped quietly with a huge grin spreading across her face.

  Shrugging self-consciously, she went back to observing Dylan’s antics. “Like I said, I’m just thinking about it. Lots to take on board, you know?”

  “Oh, my god!” Meghan yelped. “You could help with the expansion! We’re going to need a PR person. Hell, we need one now, don’t we, Tori?”

  “Are you kidding? Shit, Angel! That would be epic! I know he’s not here now, but your Uncle Calder just signed on the do R and D for Justice. And with the compound under construction, now would be the time to build you a bungalow somewhere around the Villa. Come on, senõrita! Join the club.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa, ladies,” Angie laughed. “I said thinking! Y’all are gonna have me moved in and buying bath towels before I’ve even thought it through.”

  “Do you sing? Or play an instrument?” Lacey asked out of the blue.

  Astonished at the unusual question, she barked, “What?”

  Meghan giggled.

  “We have this karaoke thing we do. It’s loads of fun, and I thought if you sang then you could join us,” Lacey clarified, studying her carefully.

  “Whiskey Pete’s,” Tori drawled.

  “Are you fucking kidding me,” Angie asked. “You sing karaoke at that shithole?”

  “Yeah,” Meghan cut in. “We were going to go check out the competition tomorrow night. Gotta keep one step ahead.” She laughed.

  “We call ourselves, Ass, Boots, and Sass.” Tori pointed at Lacey who wiggled her butt. “She would be the ass.”

  Meghan was chuckling. “Irish over there wears the boots.” Tori laughed with a jaunty salute. “And I, of course, bring the sass.”

  “I fucking love you guys,” Angie crooned with delight. “Yes, I sing. And I can play the guitar. I’ve never done karaoke, but I’d love to try.”

  “Hey!” Lacey cried to Meghan. “Have you taken Angie out to the spot?” She looked enthusiastically at her and smiled. “It’s where we go sometimes to practice,” she clarified with a serious expression. “Out in the desert.”

  Meghan smiled. “No, but now that I know you have a musical background like your brother,” she told her with a wink, “I’ll be happy to introduce you to our special spot.”

  Wow, Angie thought. Singing in the desert. The universe was throwing all kinds of signs her way.

  “YOU KNOW, IT ACTUALLY IS a whole hell of a lot easier to ignore an elephant in the room over the phone than in person.”

  Parker knew it was just a matter of time before Alex said something, but he was content to wait him out. He preferred for his friend to ask all the questions ‘cause there was no fucking way he was volunteering dog shit. The truth was bound to come out eventually, but until it did, he was walking on eggshells.

  “I’m not sure what you’re referring to,” he answered. They were wrapping up a long call about the endless legalities of the Justice expansion and all he wanted to do was get off the phone and go back to sulking.

  He and sulking were old friends now. Ever since Angie came back, all Parker ever seemed to do was work like a madman and sulk. No in between. Basically, it felt like he was circling the drain.

  “For the record, shithead,” Alex snapped. “I resent being forced to ask, but since you seem to be on your period all the fucking time, I’ll be the one to man the fuck up. When were you planning to tell me that my sister was going to shit a literal brick when you turned up? I asked you to be my best man, you fucker! If something was going on with you two, didn’t you think I should know this before you two started a fist fight at the altar?”

  Jesus. Nothing like laying the whole case out there in the opening argument. Maybe it was Alex who should have been the lawyer because, at that moment, Parker didn’t know what the fuck to say.

  “Uh, what has Angie said?”

  “Really?” Alex griped. “Answer a question with a question? What the fuck, Parker? Can you take two seconds please to remember who the hell you’re dealing with?”

  “Look, Alex, I know we need to talk.”

  “Do you?” he asked none too nicely. “Because you’re putting off an awfully strange vibe for someone who is supposed to be my oldest friend.”

  Damn. Now what did he say?

  “I, uh . . . think this might be your sister’s story to tell. That’s all. Really.”

  “Swear to Christ, dude, if your shit starts affecting Meghan, I’m going to kick your fucking ass.”

  Well, fuck. This got messy fast. “Do you think it would help any if I tried talking to Angie?” Shit. He’d do almost anything at this point to try and fix this mess.

  “How the fuck do I know?” Alex barked. “Depends on what you did to her, I suppose. And what the hell with all the Euro-drivel about that douche nozzle she was going to marry? All of that seemed directed at you, fuckface.”

  Even over the phone, Parker didn’t miss the cold chill in his friend’s tone.

  “I could use your help here, man,” he admitted.

  “You aren’t going to tell me, are you?” Alex muttered angrily.

  “I need to talk to Angie. Alone.”

  There was a long pause and then Alex told him, “I’ll see what I can do. I’m trusting you, Parker, because of who you are, but if you do anything to hurt my sister . . .”

  “I know,” he assured Alex. “And if it helps any, I’d take a bullet for her.”

  “Strong statement.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Hmmph. You’re still a dick.”

  “Takes one to know one.”

  Alex paused. “Oh, did I mention? We’re all piling on at Pete’s tomorrow night. Carmen and Ria are treating the girls to a babysitters’ night so they want to go see who’s on the microphone.”

  “Will she be there?”

  “You’ve met my sister before, right? Spotlight. Microphone. Music. Hell yeah, she’ll be there.”

  Meghan felt wretched by the time she got home. Not even hanging out with the girls and spending time with her baby nephews had taken the sting out of her earlier reaction to Alex’s demand to know what was wrong.

  She’d done a terrible thing by running from him and worry had been eating at her ever since.

  The house was quiet, and the minute Meghan stepped through the front door, she smelled something wonderful coming from the kitchen. She was so spoiled these days. Carmen and Ria, Alex’s longtime housekeeper and cook, ran the Villa and oversaw the practicalities around the compound. Betty handled the business office and Ria’s husband, Ben, was the resident master-of-all-trades.

  Her life had certainly changed since that day more than six months ago when she knocked on the front door of Villa de Valleja-Marquez for the first time. It was bizarre to have someone else handle the cooking and the grocery shopping. Just as crazy as dealing with a housekeeper who sometimes picked up after one of her and Alex’s naughty romps and who also did their laundry without comment. Meghan’s never-ending wardrobe of sexy lingerie had to raise an eyebrow or two.

  Climbing the distinctive wide stairway to the second floor, she made her way quietly to the master suite. The entertainment system was on and she just barely made out the sounds of some hard rocking oldie coming from the speakers. She smiled. Only Alex would relax to AC/DC. Meghan flipped the system off figuring the second she appeared, he’d be finished with the relaxing portion of the day anyway.

  Glancing into his side of the wardrobe, she spied his usual clump of clothing piled haphazardly on a bench. A half-empty tumbler sat near
by that she sniffed and smirked at. Glenfiddich. Bah!

  He was in the shower. The spicy scent of his bodywash wafted from the steamy enclosure and acted on her like a hypnotic suggestion. Hurriedly removing her clothes, which she added to his piled clump, Meghan grabbed a hair clip and used it to secure the thick, long curls she piled into a messy bun on the crown of her head.

  Plodding on silent feet, she entered the shower room and approached the large glass enclosure, admiring the sexy silhouette her handsome Major created. He was so damn gorgeous it never failed to take her breath away. Even the scars that marked one whole side of his magnificent body were beautiful to her. They were the marks of a warrior. Reminders of another time.

  It was a struggle not to flatten him to the wall and climb on board. Impale her body on the proud cock she saw bobbing under the streams of water running off his massive torso. “May I join you?” she asked in a small voice.

  He turned slowly under the wide shower stream and looked at her. By the time he finished his leisurely inspection of her naked body, she was trembling and very aware of another kind of wet at the juncture of her thighs.

  Without saying a word, he just nodded and opened his arms. Meghan didn’t hesitate to walk into his embrace. When Alex touched her, she felt all her worries melt away. Nothing else mattered but this. She adored him with all her heart and soul.

  “I’m sorry for running away,” she murmured as water rained down on them.

  He didn’t say anything, which threw her off. She expected him to use the advantage of her apology to demand that she tell him why.

  Instead, he casually turned her so she was facing away from him and reached for her shower pouf. Holding it out, she picked up her wash and responded to the silent command, dribbling some onto the scrubby.

  He stroked it across her shoulders and up and down her spine as rivers of fragrant bubbles caressed her wet skin. Washing her with ritualistic thoroughness, he murmured quietly the entire time, telling her of his unconditional love. How he’d protect her and that she was never alone. He would always be there. Always love her. Always take care of her.