Drae snickered and flipped the finger. “You know exactly why we’re here. You might have the highest IQ between the three of us dude, but you’re a fucking nightmare when left to your own devices. Did you really think my wife was going to sit back and let you handle what’s maybe the most important situation of your entire life without us?”
Holy God. Was his chest tightening like he was going to cry? Turning away quickly before his brothers could catch the riot of emotions he couldn’t keep off his face, Alex struggled to clear his throat. Keeping his back turned he choked out, “Your wife is a smart-ass.”
“That she is,” Drae agreed. “And for some bizarre reason she thought you might need our help, so here we are. Was she wrong?”
No, she wasn’t wrong at all but finding a way to say that and keeping his dignity were two separate things.
Cam picked up an impressive looking presentation in a glossy folder that Alex had been reviewing from another of the symposium’s participants.
“A.I. and the Police Force of Tomorrow? Please tell me you haven’t just spent a week listening to a bunch of shit that could have come from a Terminator script.”
There was a snappy retort stuck on the tip of his tongue but discussing the pros and cons of artificial intelligence was not why they were here.
Folding like a cheap tent in a wind storm, Alex slumped into a big wing chair and groaned. “Honestly – haven’t heard but a sentence here or there all week long. This whole thing,” he mumbled with a wave of his hand, “was nothing but a cover story for why I was in D.C. There could be plans for building the perfect bomb in those materials and I wouldn’t have noticed. Or cared for that matter.”
“Yep,” drawled Cam. “That’s what we figured. But have no fear Big Daddy,” he said good-naturedly. “We’ve got you covered.”
What the hell did that mean, Alex wondered. Next thing he knew, Cam pulled a stack of papers from who the fuck knows where and started lining them up on the coffee table.
“Okay gentlemen. Enough fucking around. Time to get down to business. We’ve got pregnant wives,” he reminded everyone, “and I for one want to get this shit resolved in a hurry so I can get back to my lady and her bump.”
“So here’s the deal, man,” Drae directed at Alex. “We’ve been doing some brainstorming and think we’ve come up with what your next move should be. If you’re still interested in getting Meghan back, that is.”
Alex’s head snapped up at the mention of Meghan’s name. With his senses on high alert he glanced back and forth between Cam and Drae, then at the papers on the table and felt a frisson of relief race along his nerve endings. Oh thank fucking God for meddling brothers he silently prayed.
“What’ve you got?” he asked.
Drae looked at him, smiling like a Cheshire Cat with a dozen fancy slight of hand tricks up his sleeve and started talking a million miles an hour.
“Okay. Here it is. We’ve done some research and got a shit ton of information about the parents and siblings. Getting them on your side is key to any hope of moving forward. Since you were a tremendous dick and let this ridiculous situation linger on for weeks, it’s given your lady love had plenty of time to sulk or do whatever it is that chicks do when their men loose their shit. Chances are, they all hate your fucking guts about now.”
“Word,” Cam muttered with a shake of his head.
“I’ve checked on the father’s work schedule and it looks like he’ll be at the station house all day tomorrow. Same for her brothers. At work. All day. Meghan’s staying at her parents’ house and as far as we can tell she doesn’t go out much. Pretty much she’s been hanging with her mom and ignoring your ass.”
So here’s what we think has to happen,” Cam interjected as he took over the conversation. “You need to talk with her dad first. One Patrick O’Brien. He’s a Lieutenant Detective in the Special Operations Unit. Squaring things with him is step one. You might want to consider if there is anything in particular you want to ask him.”
Meeting Cam’s amused gaze with confusion, Alex felt like a tool when Drae cut in.
“Dude. Jesus. Do we have to chew your food for you? Is there anything you need to ask her father is code for getting his permission to marry the girl.”
Alex sat back in the chair with a thud, his mouth hanging open. Marry? Marry Meghan? He was still trying to get her to talk to him, for Christ’s sake. Marriage seemed beyond his wildest dreams. Still…asking for her hand was absolutely the right way to go about things. Hmm. Maybe his brothers were on to something.
“Alright then,” Drae mumbled to Cam. “He’s still breathing so I suppose that means we’re on the right track.
“Then there are the brothers to deal with,” Drae reminded him. “Meghan was pretty vocal about how close she is to her siblings. Chances are, you’re in for an ass kicking. Don’t worry though, we won’t let them do any permanent damage.”
Fuck man, did they have to snicker like conspiratorial girlfriends? Even though they were probably right, he had some pride left.
“And that brings us to Mom,” Cam added. “She’s key. We’ve talked about this,” he said, nodding at Drae. “Nothing says I’m a dick but I love your daughter better than a piece of jewelry. Your best bet is to go in prepared to show her an engagement ring, and if that doesn’t get her on your side, we don’t know what will. Just remember to agree to anything Mom wants – even a long engagement if it means at the end of the day, Meghan is on a plane heading back home with you.”
Wow, Alex thought. Proposing marriage, having an engagement ring, probably getting a serious ass kicking. Twenty minutes ago he was contemplating every imaginable loser scenario in the book and now look at him.
Searching his brothers’ faces as they eyed him with expectant expressions, it felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He’d told Tori he was going to go and get Meghan and bring her back but he hadn’t a clue how to make that happen. Luckily for him, Drae and Cam had walked down this odd road ahead of him and were prepared with some damn good ideas.
“Anything?” Cam asked.
Checking his watch as he ran his hand through his hair, Alex told them, “Let’s go find a jewelry store.”
Drae and Cam suddenly high-fived each other and bellowed, “Fucking Eh!”
Drae handed him a piece of paper with four jewelry stores listed. Pointing at the first one he said, “I’d start here. It’s old school with high name recognition. Women love that shit.”
“Bitches like romance,” Alex muttered.
“What?” Cam barked.
Drae laughed and said, “That sounds like something my wife would say, am I right?”
Alex nodded and smiled. “Smart woman, that one. I hope you know what you’ve fucking got there, Lieutenant,” he told Drae pointedly. “You too, Cameron.”
“Do you think we’d be here trying to get your moldy ass married off if we didn’t?” Cam laughed. “Time to join the party Major. Now get your shit together and let’s go spend a metric crap ton of your inheritance and get Meghan the flashiest bling available.”
“The second your symposium wraps up tomorrow we are wheels up and Boston bound. If everything goes according to plan we should arrive at her Dad’s station by mid-afternoon. Everyone on board with that plan?” Drae asked.
After a quick head shake, Alex hurried off to get cleaned up giving Drae the perfect opportunity to pull his cellphone out and send a text to his wife.
Big Daddy Update: make the call.
Meghan was helping clear the dinner dishes when her phone chirped. Checking the screen she saw it was Tori calling so she quickly dried her hands and scooted into the den where she could take the call in peace.
“Hi Tori. What’s up?”
“Well, you are clearly,” came the answer. “And thank God. I was getting worried Irish when you didn’t answer your phone.”
“Oh, that,” Meghan replied. “Sorry. I was under the weather for a few days and my phone was o
n vibrate.”
“Everything okay?” her friend asked with concern lacing her words.
“Yeah. More or less. I sort of fell apart at the beginning of the week. You know how it is. But I’m much better now. Physically.” She let the emphasis in her statement hang by itself in the air.
“Aw, sweetie. Wish I were there to give you a hug. I told you everything’s gonna be okay. You have to trust me on that.”
“My dad thinks I should call Alex. What do you think?”
She heard Tori chuckling on the other end and wondered what the hell that was all about.
“Irish – you scared the fucking shit out of the man and that’s saying a lot.”
“How?” Meghan moaned. “How could I scare someone who’s been ignoring me for weeks?”
Tori’s chuckle became a full-throated laugh. “Well, by not answering your phone of course silly! He finally found the balls to call you and almost jumped off the ledge when you didn’t pick up or respond to his message.”
“He didn’t call,” Meghan cried, alarmed. “I’d know if he called. Please don’t tease Tori. I’m not all that together at the moment.”
“Sweetie, he did call. Tuesday night. Said you didn’t pick up and he was forced to leave a rambling message. You mean you didn’t hear it?”
“No, I didn’t hear it,” she wailed as anxiety bounced off her nerves. “Fuck! Hold on. Let me check my call history.”
Three taps on the phone later and she saw that he actually had called and left a voicemail.
“Oh my God, Tori,” she whimpered. “What the hell is wrong with me? I checked for email once I was back in the land of the living but never thought to double-check for missed calls. And I somehow missed that little squiggly that indicated a voice mail. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“Settle down Irish. It’s okay. Believe me. Probably better this way, anyhow.”
“How do you mean?” Meghan was pretty sure her life was flashing before her eyes. Here she’d been waiting for Alex to call yet days had gone by since he had. How could she be so stupid?
“Look. When he couldn’t reach you the minute he climbed down off his high horse and decided it was time to talk – kinda knocked him down a few pegs. Which, if you think about it, is a good thing.” She heard Tori snort in amusement. “Only a man and a Justice Brother would be so full of himself to imagine that he could go radio silent for weeks then expect to make everything better on the first attempt. Served him right when you didn’t answer. Seriously Meghan.”
“Was he mad?” Meghan sat cross-legged in an arm chair, hunched over and gripping the phone like it was a life-line, waiting for Tori’s reply.
“Mad? Are you kidding? He was practically hysterical. As in almost on the verge of tears. He thought you were purposely refusing contact. Sobered his ass up right quick, let me tell you.”
“Oh my God,” Meghan groaned.
“Listen up, Irish. Time to get your head on straight. I sent the guys to D.C. and just heard from the husband. I’d say you’ll be hearing from that man of yours soon.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yep. Indeed I am. C’mon. You know that Alex is a mess on his best day. Getting all that noise in his head to quiet down is a big undertaking but the brothers are on it, okay? Now don’t start overthinking – just go with it. My suggestion – when we hang up, listen to his message. If I know him at all, and believe me I do, it’s probably pretty comical.”
“My God Tori. What would I do without you?”
“You’d be spinning your wheels in frustration I suppose!” She laughed. “He’s coming to you Irish, just like I said he would. Oh, and for the record, it was a quick, bent over the edge of the bed spanking for having run my mouth. But oh baby, was it worth it!”
Meghan barked out a laugh and said, “That’s no way to treat a pregnant woman. Even one with a big mouth.”
“Are you kidding? There are times when I act like a brat just to make sure he’ll pink my ass! Go and listen to the message and try not to laugh. And Meghan, I’ll see you soon.”
Disconnecting the call, Meghan quickly went to her voicemail and listened to Alex’s message. Oh my God, he was adorable. After replaying it five times, she smiled and hugged the phone to her chest. Hearing him stammer and hesitate was priceless. If he still wanted her, she had a ton of stuff to do starting with a trip to the salon for a mani-pedi. First thing tomorrow morning she intended to take up her mother’s suggestion and hit the fashion boutiques to find something that would set his hair on fire when she finally saw him face to face.
For the first time in weeks, she actually fell asleep when she hit the bed several hours later.
Alex checked his suit jacket pocket for the hundredth time to make sure the ring box was still there as his cab pulled up to the red brick building where Meghan’s father worked. He’d planned out what he wanted to say to the man who pretty much held his balls in the palm of his hand. He’d be fucked six ways from Tuesday if he couldn’t win him over.
It occurred to him that he’d been on a lot of missions in his time. Serious shit with deadly consequences, the sort of stuff he’d struggled with for years. But nothing he’d done before was as scary or as potentially life altering as this meeting. The thought was immensely sobering.
Handing the driver the fare and a hefty tip, he climbed from the cab and gathered his wits about him as he stood on the sidewalk eyeing the old red bricks on the façade of the station house as he adjusted his tie, smoothed his hair and feeling rather like Drae, pulled on his cuffs until he was satisfied he looked the part he was playing—that of a gentleman and successful businessman with a serious purpose in mind.
Pushing open the door to the station, he stepped inside the ancient police building and swiftly headed for the desk. A serious looking policewoman with an expression that bordered on hostile eyed his approach.
“Is Detective Patrick O’Brien available?” he asked.
“Who’s doing the asking?” she bit out. Clearly she had missed out on charm lessons.
This was it, he thought. Please lord, don’t let me fuck this up.
“Tell him Alex Marquez would like a word with him on a personal matter.”
“Is that so?”” she replied with the charm of a serial killer. “Pahk yer ass over there,” she nodded at some dilapidated chairs, “and I’ll see if he’s accepting callers.”
As he took a seat Alex couldn’t help but wonder how his Irish goddess had managed to avoid the heavy Boston accent that he’d been hearing from the moment the plane landed.
Looking at his watch he noted the time and wondered how long the irritating intake cop was going to have him sit there and stew before letting Detective O’Brien know he was there.
Friday morning had been a whirlwind for Meghan and her mother. Starting with a visit to a local salon where they each indulged in spa manicures after an enjoyable stretch in one of those cushy massage chairs while they enjoyed a delightful pedicure, they’d stopped for a restorative jolt of caffeine while they planned out their shopping strategy.
Focusing on a slew of high-end Southie boutiques, they’d visited half a dozen shops where, at her mother’s insistence, Meghan tried on nearly every available white dress they could find. In the end she decided on a stunning number that reminded her of something a Jennifer Lopez type might wear. It was form fitting with cap sleeves and a low square neckline that with the right bra would put her tits on glorious display. But what made it really awesome was the silhouette created by dark green material for the back of the dress that wrapped around to frame the front, which was a soft shade of white. The contrasting colors and the way the material hugged her figure highlighted her bodacious curves. There was no way her Major wouldn’t need to wipe away a bit of drool when he caught sight of her in the sexy outfit.
Next came a pair of delicious open toed, high heels with an ankle strap that made her legs look amazing. She’d indulged her mother with a pair of sophisticated L.K. Bennett heels that the s
aleswoman insisted were just like the shoes Duchess Kate wears. Watching her ma twirl and preen before the mirror as she admired the classy footwear was nothing short of delightful. So was the hilarious conversation between her adorable parent and the shop girls about English royalty and how nobody wore shoes or hats better.
Lingerie was next and to her astonishment, Ma had suggested an exclusive boutique that specialized in outrageously sexy underthings. Apparently her mother had a secret guilty pleasure when it came to undergarments. Knowing that Alex really, really liked naughty undies, she went a bit overboard and practically bought out everything the store had in her size. Didn’t help that Ma was egging her on every step of the way.
Their shopping spree wouldn’t be complete without indulging in two over-the-top purchases, a glorious white Hermès bag for Meghan and an outrageous Fendi for her mother. Yeah, it was a bit much, but after all, what good was having all that money if she couldn’t go a little crazy at times?
They’d had a ball and while not exactly setting her credit card on fire, they had racked up quite a sum. It was well worth it though not just to spoil her mom but also to see her eyes twinkling with mischievous delight as she prodded Meghan to walk a bit on the wild side.
When Maggie O’Brien suggested in all seriousness to her only daughter that they visit an exclusive, high-end establishment that was for all intents and purposes a friggin’ adult boutique specializing in sex toys and naughty accessories, Meghan abruptly pulled the plug on their shopping spree. There was no way she was browsing lube and handcuffs with her mother by her side. It was bad enough that she suspected her proper and well-mannered mother was a member of the Vibrator of the Month Club.
After stopping for a late lunch that she still had no appetite for, by the time they got back to the house, Meghan was exhausted. The weeks of stress and unhappiness that eventually made her sick still lingered despite knowing that Alex was finally coming to his senses.
Eventually she gave up any pretense of being productive and went off to take a nap. The last time she’d seen her mother, she was chatting with a neighbor over coffee, but two hours later, after passing the hell out and sleeping like the dead, she awoke to an empty house and what looked like a hastily scribbled note.
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