Desert Angel (Family Justice Book 2) (65 page)

Fussing with the bowl of fresh flowers that Carmen religiously maintained on a table beneath the large ornately framed canvas, she assured the distinguished-looking ancestor that the next generation of the Valleja-Marquez family born under the Arizona sun would most definitely be bilingual.

Smiling, she continued on, making her way to the kitchen for a cup of the coffee she smelled wafting through the house. Meghan truly loved the hacienda. There was something about the history of the Villa and the surrounding land that spoke to her. And lately, she’d felt it speaking back.

She was still unsure and nervous about how she’d handle being the mistress of a legacy so grand, but with Alex at her side, she knew they could handle anything . . . as long as they were together.

Skipping lightly down the wide staircase, her dress swinging as she moved, it was all Meghan could do not to explode with contentment. She had a great life. A man who adored her. A growing family and a vision for the future that was really exciting.

Softly giggling as she smoothed some wayward curls, she had to admit that the off-the-hook lovemaking the Major lavished on her at every opportunity didn’t hurt. Why, just this morning he’d taken her so sweetly and tenderly that she cried after and clung to him while he held her tight, whispering lovingly until the demands of the day forced them to leave their bed.

But that wasn’t the only reason for the incandescent happiness lighting her up from the inside. Alex’s quirky solution for alleviating her growing concerns about their wedding being overshadowed by the circumstances and judgments of others was so damn cool and exciting, she was dancing on air.

Her mother had gifted her a stunning dress finished with vintage lace that was short with a flared skirt and a wide satin ribbon around the waist that jumped out of her closet earlier when she’d been looking for something. Almost shitting herself was the only way to describe how she reacted. It was perfect and exactly what she wanted for their private celebration.

Lost in her happy daydream, Meghan was ninety percent oblivious to anything going on around her when she bounced into the kitchen on feet barely touching the floor. Her happiness was so big, she wondered if she could contain it.

Pouring a glass of OJ, she‘d just taken a sip when she turned around and got a good look at what was going down in her kitchen.
What the hell?

Parker and Angie were present but by the look of things, must not ever have been formally introduced because they were completely ignoring each other. A better description of the scene she stumbled on might be that a bent-out-of-shape lawyer was hunched over the island bar nursing a steaming cup of whatever while a lip-biting and discernibly uneasy Angie, stood to the side picking on a bowl of grapes, occasionally glancing Parker’s way.

Well, this looks like shittons of fun!

Three seconds after that wry observation, Alex came bustling into the kitchen with an armload of packages, a couple of which fell to the floor as he struggled to dump everything on the island.

Chuckling, he smirked at Meghan. “Honey, you keep this up and I’m going to have to hire that poor driver to be your personal delivery service.”

All Meghan could do was laugh. He was right, of course. During the months she’d been in Arizona where their location made a shopping excursion something of a long-distance slog, she’d become a champion at ordering. Her days of mall crawling, looking for whatever caught her eye, were now relegated to specially planned and executed occasions. With QVC and Amazon being her main bitches, she had that one-click thing down pat!

His eyes glowing with pleasure, Alex came around the island and kissed her quickly. “You look lovely,” he murmured.

Words? What words? Her smile said it all.

Snatching the glass of OJ right out of her hands, Alex tossed it back with a loud grunt then slammed the empty down. “Ahhhh, I needed that,” he kidded while she arched an eyebrow at him.

“Uh, one of those smaller packages has Ria’s name on it . . .”

“I’ve corrupted her, I’m afraid,” she snickered, interrupting whatever he was going to say. “Ben wanted a whatchamacallit-thingy for the garden and . . .”

Alex barked a laugh. “Whatchamacallit-thingy?”

God, he was adorable when he teased her. Reaching out, she grabbed his shirt and pulled him forward. “I want very much to tell you to shut it.” She grinned—thoroughly enjoying his eyes flaring at her obvious attempt to manipulate the no-no expression.

Did he even realize Angie and Parker were present,
she wondered or was he simply ignoring the drama this morning? Frankly, she didn’t care. Those two would figure it out. Just like Cam and Lacey had. Just like Draegyn and Victoria, her and Alex, and hell, even Stephanie and Calder had, although that sitch was still a work in progress.

Following the direction of her gaze, he turned his head, first studying Parker’s impersonation of a mute as he sat nearby. The look he gave her was just short of an eye roll. Meghan choked off her laughter with a hurried cough.

Glancing the other way, he checked his sister out and this time he really did roll his eyes and shake his head. Kissing her quickly one more time, Alex leaned close and whispered, “Remember baby . . . just you and me. Fuck this shit, okay?”

She didn’t need reassurance. Not anymore. When Meghan explained how she felt, Alex hadn’t hesitated. Not for a second. He didn’t ask for more detail or try to talk her out of her concerns.

Was she glowing? Probably. That was how this man made her feel.

“I’m good,” she deadpanned with a pouty smirk right after eyeing the ominously restrained couple. Chuckling deeply, her Major helped himself to some of her ass. “Oh, and I found the perfect thing to wear.”

“It better be white,” he muttered. “Your mom’s right. You look angelic in white.” Then, quickly changing the subject, he sighed heavily. She couldn’t agree more. C’mon,” he nudged her shoulder, “Looks like it’s intervention time.”

Mentally reviewing the checklist of things he still needed to do, Alex made a quick note on his phone before pocketing it then hustled himself a mega mug of coffee. Satisfied that Meghan was okay with whatever the fuck it was that was going on around them, he felt a hundred times less stressed now that he’d included his fiancée in at least a portion of the special day he was planning for them.

It still cracked him up that she was so easily satisfied with what she imagined was nothing more than a picnic in the desert. Jesus, was she ever in for a shock. Only a couple more days and then she’d be his forever.

Truth? He was starting to get nervous. Not groom jitters. More like a guy trying to surprise and please his lady jitters. There was always the chance that he’d fuck shit up or had read her signals wrong.

No,
uh-uh,
wait a minute. Read her signals wrong? As if! He had this situation by the short hairs and as long as he didn’t let the cat out of the bag too soon, he was going to pull off the most epic, romantic, guy gesture of all time. Shame they had to keep it a secret.

Taking the stool next to Parker, Alex noticed that Meghan made no effort to engage Angie. Perhaps that was because his little sister looked like she was gearing up to admit to the crime of the century. What the hell had gone on between these two morons after he and Meghan went to their suite last night? Whatever it was, well. . . . it didn’t look good.

“Mission Control to jerkbag,” he murmured.

Nothing.
Oh, great.
Taking a healthy sip from his mug, he pushed a plate of glazed blueberry muffins toward his friend. Even Alex had to admit they looked delicious and with Parker’s inability to resist anything from the bakery, he felt sure a muffin would be a good icebreaker.

Still nothing. Really?
Shit.
Tempted to wave his hand in front of the guy’s face to see if he was conscious, Alex sent Meghan a look of bewilderment. She shrugged and sipped her beverage.

Well, this is just fan-fucking-tastic.

As the four of them lingered in silence, he wondered what the hell he was supposed to do. The uncomfortable gathering was on the verge of getting ugly when a phone rang. Comically, everyone reacted by reaching for their cell.

The call was for Angie and the instant she answered, Alex knew something was up. The immediate shift in her demeanor and a dramatic change in body language sent up a red flag that he noted but did not react to. Justice was known for offering top-notch surveillance. Being watchful was
Duh 101
in the training manual.

Wondering whose call could affect so quick a change in his sister, his answer came swiftly when she caught his eye and gestured to the phone.

“It’s Soph. I’ve gotta take this but say hi.”

“Hey, Squirt,” Alex boomed as Angie held the phone up. “Love you. Miss you. Can’t wait to see . . .” he got out before she hastily fled the room.

Meghan snickered, then went back to fiddling with her iPad in a less-than-genuine way that told him she was actually paying close attention to every little thing. She would have made a great operative.

With Angie now out of the room, he swiveled toward Parker and punched him in the arm. “What the hell did you do?” he barked.

“Ow, you asshole. What the fuck was that for?”

Alex laughed. He had to. All of this was so bizarre.
What the fuck was that for?
Was he kidding? Actually, no he probably wasn’t. Upon closer look, it was apparent that Parker was distracted, bothered, and generally bent.

Changing his approach, he sat back and eyed his friend, saying, “You look like shit.” And he did. Like total shit. And not too much to drink shit. Or stressed at work shit. Or even feeling like shit. This kind of shit looked damn serious.

“Wanna talk about it?” he asked.

“No.” The answer was immediate, forceful, and tinged with something else. Unless he was mistaken, the man was sulking. Full on, kicking the dog brooding with a double dash of moody bastard thrown in.

Well, whadaya know? The great and mighty Parker Sullivan sent crashing to Earth by a bratty angel. Circle this date on the calendar!

“A
RE YOU OKAY?”

Angie didn’t know if she was okay or not. Surely there had to be some suffering or impairment after the world tilted or, in this case, came to a jarring halt.

“Uhhh . . . sure.”
Liar, liar, pants on fire.

Sophie grumbled, “Dad’s going to filet his miserable ass. This is so far over the line, he won’t have any choice.”

Oh no. Dad knew about this? Holy crap. All she could do was groan and drop her head into her hand.

“Sorry, Ang. I had to tell him. The story is about to go wide and he needed to know in case someone asks for a comment.”

“I know, sis. It’s fine. Really. Just a lot for me to take in, y’know?”

“Shit, Angie. I am soooo sorry.”

She chortled bitingly. “What do you have to be sorry for? It wasn’t you who knocked up some club circuit slut while engaged. To me.
Ugh, god!
How could I have been so blind?”

“Sweetie, don’t take this on yourself. You didn’t do anything. Aldo did. He played you dirty, Ang. No other way to put it. All signs point to him figuring you guys would have a modern arrangement which is arrogant asshole code for he wanted a wife to make him socially acceptable while he behaved like a privileged pig on the side.”

“Sniveling dumbass.”

“You’re taking this better than I thought. Does Parker have anything to do with that?”

A tiny flame, the one that never really went out, flashed inside her. Her heart smiled.

“We sang together on stage, Soph.” She was going to say more, but her sister’s sharp gasp left her speechless.

“Oh, baby . . .”

Was that the sound of tears edged with sniffling she heard coming from the phone?

“The heavens must be in perfect alignment!” Sophie exclaimed tearfully.

Her reaction warmed Angie. “We’re going to give it a try. See what happens,” she anxiously muttered. Saying it out loud to another person was a bit scary. Made it awfully real.

“I’m thrilled for you. I love Parker and you know the ‘rents on both sides are gonna go apeshit.”