Desert Angel (Family Justice Book 2) (69 page)

Lightheartedly shoving her away from his side of the wardrobe, he scolded her with a lopsided grin. “I got this, babe. Relax.”

“
Mmmm hmmm,
” she snickered. “I’ve heard that before.”

Eh, she had a point.
No way was he ever living down showing up in a pair of sloppy jeans and a NASCAR t-shirt at a church event Carmen dragged them to that he assumed was weekend casual when everyone else was dressed for a garden party. Funny now, but not so hilarious then.

“Seriously, bride . . . Daddy’s got this.”

Meghan laughed so hard that he had to laugh, too. “I’m making a new rule about you and that
Daddy
bullshit. Maybe points for each time you say it?” Her mocking simper cracked him right the fuck up.

Openly leering at her, Alex chuckled. “Yeah, about the point thing. That’s getting a little out of hand don’t you think?”

She grinned. “Did you hear me complaining?”

“No,” he answered with a deep chuckle, “but don’t you think we should discuss what happened.”

Whoa. Instant serious. She lowered her eyes a moment and chewed on her lip but quickly recovered and even smiled.

“You mean the kidnapped and fucked thing or the tied up and flogged thing?”

“Both.”

She hadn’t shied away from talking about what they did that day, which was a relief, and she even managed to surprise him by actually saying out loud what he’d worried was a step too far for her.

Not a day went by when he didn’t find more reasons to worship this remarkable woman who meant more to him than air to breathe and what she said next pretty much wrote that sentiment in stone.

“Make sure you pack that thing for the honeymoon.”

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

“Any other requests?” he asked softly.

“Yeah.” She giggled with a furious blush that shot into her face. “Bring the princess plug, too.”

The TSA screeners and customs agents were going to have a field day with their luggage when they hopped continents for their honeymoon. Fun times.

Growling lustfully to her blushing request, he told her quite bluntly, “You do know we’re going to fuck on the plane, right? We’re not shelling out that kind of money on a private charter to haul us over the Atlantic and not mile high ourselves into a sex coma.”

“God, that was
sooo
romantic,” she teased. Her smirk was pure ball-busting bitch, and he loved the sight.

“What am I to do with you?” he quipped.

“
Ahahahaha.
You seem to be doing okay, Major.”

He kissed her soundly then eagerly pulled her toward their enormous bed. “Come look at some pictures I found. Old photographs of the Villa before the restoration. Mostly post-war stuff when the place was crumbling. Wanna see?”

Crawling onto the mattress, they got comfortable and started going through a treasure trove of family history. Lost in their own little world, they happily looked at memories of the past while mapping out their unlimited future.

It was sunset. The perfect time to leave the highway and make those last winding turns that led Angie home. Sky blazing with a palette of colors that boggled the mind, she took it all in and let the power of nature fill her up. This was one of those times when she gave thanks that her hippie wild child mother had dropped everything to dance with her girls under a moonlit sky and who never failed to stop and quite literally smell the flowers.

Just before the final turn onto the long drive leading up to the hacienda, she stopped the car and sat quietly for a couple of minutes. This was it. Whatever happened once she got back to the house was only the most important moment in her whole life this far. No more rehearsals or script revisions. She got one shot, one performance, this night only.

No pressure, right?

About an hour ago, when she’d stopped to pee and grab something disgusting to eat from a convenience store, she’d considered turning her phone on but quickly nixed that idea. Her brother running interference at an airport hours away was quite the reminder of the reach Justice had in apparently every damn out-of-the-way corner. Also meant everyone at the Villa was well aware of what she’d been up to. Turning on her phone would no doubt result in finding her voicemail overflowing and a gazillion text messages pending. There weren’t a lot of secrets with Family Justice.

No . . . she was going to do this head-on and simply drive back to the compound and face whatever waited for her.

Habit made her flip the visor down and open the mirror so she could check her appearance—not that she could do anything if she needed to. When she’d stormed after Aldo, all she took was what fit in her pockets. Her little wallet containing ID, some dollars, and credit card. The basics. Oh, yeah, and that tube of lipstick.

One glance at her reflection confirmed that she’d chewed all of the colored gloss off her lips a long time ago. The face looking back at her was completely natural. This was who she was—boots, cutoff jeans, a flannel shirt, no make-up, and running free. Everything else was window dressing.

Angie wasn’t nervous as she drove the last stretch. Frankly, it was too damn late to be nervous. Then, an unexpected calm descended. As the Explorer swung into the constantly cluster-fucked driveway, she wasn’t going to bother driving down to the garage, a rushing sensation echoed in her head and sped like a wildfire through her the second she caught sight of Parker prowling the front gate.

He was waiting for her. If anyone else was around, she didn’t know, or care, because everything faded away at the sight of him.

They had locked eyes before she’d even gotten the car parked. Turning off the engine, Angie pushed the car door open as he moved in her direction. The closer he got, the more aware of him she became. It was this connection that never went away—a current arcing back and forth between them—even when they were apart.

Dropping onto the drive, she didn’t hesitate, her boots pounding out a rhythm as she went to claim her destiny.

Parker’s expression looked intense. Worried and relieved at the same time. His mouth in a grim, taut line, he reached out to her while he was still several feet away. “Angel,” he growled, and with that one emotional cry, her life changed forever.

She ran the last couple of steps and went straight into his embrace. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she choked up and barely got out, “Oh god, Parker,” before he crushed her body to his and went to her mouth.

Standing there, her feet no longer on the ground as she clung to him, Angie gave herself up entirely. There was passion in his kiss, but that was just a part of it. She prayed to all the angels up in heaven above that he loved her the same way she loved him.

It took forever for the kissing to slow down, not that she was complaining. When he eventually let her slide down his front until her feet hit the ground, he took hold of her face with both hands and looked into her eyes.

Would he scold her for being reckless like he had when she was a kid? Was he mad at her? Unhappy with her spur-of-the-moment behavior? His kiss hadn’t seemed that way.

Expecting some sort of alpha reaction to her antics, Angie was stunned when he finally spoke. When he didn’t bark commands—she knew immediately by the sound of his voice that he was really upset. Besides the time she saw him barely maintaining when Uncle Matt was in the hospital, she’d never known Parker to be bothered by much of anything.

“Please,” he ground out. “Please, baby girl. Do not
ever
do anything like this again. You scared the shit out of me, Angie.”

That was quite the admission coming from him.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered. “Everything happened so fast.” Shrugging, she grasped his forearms and gazed lovingly up at him.

“Are you okay?” The question was not much more than an anxious whisper.

“You were worried.” Her answer was more an exclamation than a question.

There was crushed and then there was
crushed
—which was how it felt when he gathered her close.

Mmmm.
He smelled good. A little sweaty maybe. Probably from being outside in the sun but the subtle earthiness of his natural scent was an instant turn on.

He said something, but with his face pressed into her hair and her focused on inhaling his essence, she completely missed whatever was said. Not really concerned about it, she went back to snuggling into his wide chest.
Mmmm.

W
OULD IT BE A BAD
thing if he threw up on her boots, ‘cause that was how he felt. She was either trying to kill him or he’d totally misread the situation. One of the two. Was the only way to explain her silence. Wasn’t she supposed to react when he told her he loved her? How come she didn’t as much as sigh?

Aw, shit.
If she didn’t love him back the same way—it really would kill him. No joke. Prepared for her to shoot him down, Parker swallowed against the thickness in his throat that signaled approaching tears. He let her go suddenly and pulled away to search her face. She had a radiance about her that he’d miss every day for the rest of his life if she said no.

Her hand reached up and pushed the hair off his forehead. It was such a small, loving gesture that it stopped him cold. Maybe everything was going to be okay after all.

“I have something to tell you,” she said.

Oh, my god. She was returning to Spain, wasn’t she? He felt sick. Puking on her boots became a distinct possibility.

Trying for stoic, Parker hung on as best he could, waiting for her to decimate his heart.

“I’m
in love
with you,” she whispered, her eyes bright and shining.

Waiting for the sword to drop on his neck, he wasn’t prepared to hear those words and when she said them, he frowned deeply. Had he heard her right? Maybe if he just stood there and stared at her long enough, what was happening would start to make sense.

The longer he stared, the heavier the awkward silence became. When he didn’t respond, she looked away and muttered, “Oh.”

Not having any idea what he was saying, Parker echoed her, “Oh?” only making it a question.

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same.” Her voice sounded thin. “I get it.”

Huh? Time out, time out, time out. They needed to get on the same page.

“What do you get?” he asked.

Quirking one shoulder, she crossed her arms in front of her—a defensive move that bothered him—murmuring, “Not being in love. You know. With me.”

Goddammit. What the fuck was she talking about?

“I could say the same to you,” he groused.

“No, you can’t,” she bit out.

“Can, too,” he countered, and just like that, the years melted away and it was him and a spunky Angel hurling ‘nah-nahs’ at each other.

“How ya figure, counselor?”

She was kidding with that outraged tone, right?

“I said it first.” His mom would call the way he answered his
sulky little shit
act. Moms always knew how to go right to the core of things.

“Did not!” she shrieked.

“I
sooo
did,” he growled.

“When?”

“Just now.”

Her expression mirrored his confusion. How the fuck could two people who were so connected be this clueless?

His inner lawyer
tsked
a couple of times and figuratively pushed his sorry ass aside. Get the facts, clean up loose ends, connect the dots. “You asked if I was worried about you and I answered.”

“Oookay,” she drawled.

“Said I loved you.” Her eyes went wide. “You didn’t say it back.” Then, her jaw hit the floor. “Next thing I know, you said it, too. At least I think you did. I don’t know, Angie. Fuck!” he roared. “Did you say it or not?”

Wow. He could almost hear her brain working.

“You . . .
love
me.” She sounded,
astonished.

He shook his head no and she looked like her world ended.

“No. . . . I’m
in
love with you. Helplessly. Hopelessly. It’s only ever been you, Angel.”

“Oh, Parker,” she cried with a little sob. “I’ve loved you my whole life, and I will love you with my all my heart and every bit of my soul until forever.”

He thought about kissing her or perhaps dropping her to the pavement to make love to her where they stood, but there was still one thing that had to be settled before they went any further.