Always (Family Justice Book 1)

by Halliday, Suzanne

  He thoroughly enjoyed Meghan’s throaty laugh. “Goddammit Major Marquez. Why’d you have to go and say that?”

  “Squirming in your seat, my beauty?”

  “Actually, I’m standing, but yes.”

  He growled into the phone. “When will you be home? I’m hungry.”

  “Didn’t Carmen make you lunch? I told her we’d be gone the whole day.”

  “That’s not what I’m hungry for.”

  “Oh.”

  “You think about that while you’re doing whatever it is that you’re doing— then bring that pussy home to me dripping wet.”

  “Alex?”

  “Yes?”

  “I, um….shit.”

  He chuckled. “Imagining my tongue licking your sweetness?”

  “Yes, dammit.”

  “Where are you? Is anyone around?”

  “We’re waiting in a store for something Lacey ordered for Dylan. The girls are busy picking out onesies for the babies while I talk to you.”

  “Good. Go to the ladies’ room and take off your panties. Send me a picture of them stuffed in your purse. I think that’s enough to get your flesh quivering in anticipation.”

  He could hear the hitch in her breathing and grinned. The woman was sexy as fuck and she was all his.

  “I’m hanging up now,” she told him.

  It took less than five minutes for her to send a text with the picture of her sheer yellow panties crammed inside her purse along with a message that read, I want you to tie my hands to the bedpost.

  Shit. Now he was the one to squirm as a hellacious hard-on gripped him while the vision of his naughty redhead tied to the bed while he ate her delicious pussy danced in his mind’s eye.

  MY GOD, BUT IT’S BEAUTIFUL here, Stephanie thought. No wonder Tori fell in love with the place. With nothing but wide-open spaces for hundreds of miles around, the Villa de Valleja-Marquez was a world unto its own.

  She’d passed on a trip into town with the ladies, not because she wasn’t up for a shopping excursion, but because she needed time to think. Time to wrap her mind around what had happened last night.

  Riding like the hounds of hell were chasing her, she’d given Zephyr full rein, letting him gallop, his hooves pounding out a rhythm on the hard-packed ground that was all-too-familiar to her. It was exhilarating and therapeutic all at once.

  At their destination, Zephyr relaxed into an easy canter, as if he knew that was what she needed. Coming to rest at last along the beautiful desert stream that wound one end of the ravine to the other, she just sat there, reins hanging loosely in her hands, mind wandering.

  Coming to Arizona at a time when she’d been feeling restless and lonely had seemed like the thing to do. Spend time with Tori and Drae, get ready for a new chapter in all their lives, enjoy the pending arrival of a new life. Simple. Easy.

  What was that quote she liked so much? Life is what happens when you’re busy making plans. Yeah. That was it. Oh, my word but how perfect was the sentiment?

  Never in her wildest and most secret dreams had she ever envisioned meeting a man such as Calder Dane. He intrigued her. Infuriated her. Pissed her off with his hard-assed attitude. Made her laugh like she hadn’t in years. Challenged her in ways that surprised the holy crap out of her. Oh yeah—and he got her thinking about hot, sweaty nights spent in a bed with linens scattered on the floor from the fury of their lovemaking.

  Kissing him had probably not been her brightest move but once his lips had joined with hers, she’d been lost. If Tori hadn’t interrupted when she did, who knows what might have happened.

  And that was what was bothering her the most. She didn’t do wham-bam sex. Oh sure, she’d had a few one-off moments in the years since Daniel died, but every one of them could be chalked up to satisfying a physical need. And every single encounter had been something she controlled and allowed. Never had she let her emotions engage and she certainly never just stood by docile and meek while a man claimed her in so basic a way.

  What in the hell was she doing?

  A distant sound cut through her reverie that made her twist in the saddle and search the landscape for what it was. A horse and rider were approaching at a pretty fast clip. Out in the middle of nowhere as she was—it was hard to imagine running into anyone else. As the pair got closer, it was pretty evident whoever it was had been expecting to find her. Alone. In the desert. Oh great.

  Her anxiety hit the stopper the moment she realized that Calder was the rider and he was clearly making a beeline straight to her. What in the fucking fuck? she thought with a harsh grimace. Surely, this couldn’t be happening.

  Slowing his mount to a fast canter, he pulled up alongside her and reached out to grab the horn of her saddle.

  “Are you alright?” he asked in a not too friendly tone.

  Oh, just fucking great. Mr. Hot and Cold. Yanking off the baseball cap she’d worn, she slapped it dramatically against her thigh and glared at him. Was she alright? Who was he kidding?

  “Of course I’m alright,” she bit out with a pithiness that spoke volumes. “Why wouldn’t I be? Please tell me you didn’t track me down just to see if I was still in the saddle.”

  Those steely blue-gray eyes narrowed at her response, but that didn’t mean he let go of her saddle. Was this idiot under the impression she couldn’t take care of herself? Boy—was he ever in for a shock.

  “Your thanks is underwhelming, Queenie,” he snapped.

  Oh no he didn’t! “What exactly am I thanking you for, you pompous oaf?” Snap. He fully deserved that one.

  Ooooh, now he was mad. She could see it in his expression. Fuck him, she thought.

  “Excuse me, lady, but you wander off on the biggest and most ornery horse at the Villa. What in the hell did you think would happen? Nobody would worry? Or check up to make sure you were still in one piece?”

  He was yelling, and if she wasn’t so pissed off at his high and mighty attitude, it might even have been funny. With lips pursed in a grim, tight line, she put the ball cap back on; yanked furiously on her ponytail, making the band that held it together slide tighter against her head.

  “For your information, Mr. Dane, I did not wander off. I knew exactly where I was going and look! I ended up precisely where I intended. I, in no way, needed to be rescued, and I find it mildly insulting that you thought I did.”

  “The horse…” he said but that was all she let him get out.

  “Zephyr? We’re old friends. I’ve ridden him before.” She gave him a look that suggested he go shit in his hat.

  What ensued after that was a sort of eyeball war as Calder glared at her with a mixture of concern, confusion, and anger while she metaphorically nailed his arrogant ass to a wood door with her eyes.

  Part of her wanted to kick his overbearing butt into next week while another part considered leaping on him and tearing his clothes off. Suddenly screwing his brains out while on horseback seemed like a completely reasonable thing to do.

  “Stephanie,” he growled. He didn’t continue with whatever he planned on saying, just grimaced and shook his head. Did he actually think she was some foolish woman-child he needed to coddle—save from the big bad horsey? Oh for heaven’s sake. This really was too damn much.

  Slapping his hand away from the horn of her saddle, she pulled back on Zephyr’s reins and delivered a solid kick that instantly spurred the magnificent stallion into a fast gallop. She’d show him!

  What the fuck, Calder thought as he watched, stupefied, while Stephanie tore off away from him on the beast of a horse.

  Quickly following her, he urged his mount to go faster as she pulled even further ahead. Panic and concern for her safety gradually slid away, replaced by a growing awareness that the woman he imagined needed rescuing was a serious force to be reckoned with in the saddle.

  He watched, fascinated, as her thighs gripped Zephyr’s heaving flanks and her ass undulated with perfection atop the fast moving horse. Imagining those same thighs wra
pped firmly around his waist, as he rode her into oblivion while her ass rose and fell with each stroke of his cock, wrecked his fucking brain.

  It wasn’t her who needed a rescue. It was him.

  He never caught up to her and finally stopped even trying. What was the point when she so clearly had the upper hand and had made it plainly obvious that she wasn’t amused by his shithead assumption that she couldn’t handle the big horse.

  He found her in the barn, calmly running a body brush down Zephyr’s neck as she quietly spoke to the handsome horse. It was ridiculous to feel jealous of an animal, but in that moment, he did. What he wouldn’t give to have her stroke his skin that way and murmur husky words of praise after he’d made love to her.

  She looked up when he leaned against the half door of the stall. Expecting to see a smirk on her face, he was slightly stunned to find her with a serious, contemplative look.

  “Can we walk back some of the animosity and start over?” he asked.

  So many emotions flashed in her eyes and across her face that he lost count immediately. Feeling frustrated and annoyed that this one woman seemed impervious to his charms, Calder struggled to find his center. Suddenly, the whole world seemed tilted.

  A cool, slightly wounded expression stayed on her face when she finally spoke.

  “Start over at which point? The one where you imagined I was foolish enough to ride out on a horse I couldn’t handle?”

  He stared at her searching for words. The ice-cold drip of having acted like a pig started feeding into his senses.

  “Or maybe back to the point when I politely asked you not to address me by a term that made me uncomfortable?”

  Swallowing the lump in his throat, he could do nothing else except stand there and take whatever she dished out.

  “No? Hmmm. How about start over from the point where you thought insulting me in a room full of people when I questioned your authority was appropriate? What?” she snarked. “Still no?”

  By this point, he was cringing and she was openly fuming.

  “Oh, I know! How about we start over at the beginning—when we first met—and I wasn’t quite the vapid, blond, beauty pageant bimbo you imagined?”

  Fuck. That one hit the mark with an uncomfortable thud.

  Tossing the grooming brush into a nearby bucket, she wiped her hands on the front of her jeans, stroked the horse’s neck twice then made for the stall door where he was standing.

  He backed away and let her secure the latch while he continued clutching at straws—silently begging for the right words to come to him. He had—nothing. Each one of her accusations was spot-on. He’d behaved like a dick—plain and simple. His conscience was bothering him, big time, ‘cause that wasn’t the way he was. At least, not with anyone else—only her.

  This time when she took off her baseball cap, she also yanked the elastic tie that held her hair in a ponytail and shook her blond mane until it fell across her shoulders. Sighing heavily, Stephanie gave him a look that held some regret mixed with resolve and said, “Look, Calder. Being thrown together by circumstance is not the basis for a friendship. Especially so because we’re little more than strangers and affect each other like alcohol on a cut. I can’t keep sparring with you. That’s not why I’m here. You’ve made your judgment of my life and me plainly evident from day one. Let’s just agree to disagree and leave well enough alone.”

  No, no, no. That was not what he wanted. Calling him out for being an ass was one thing. Pretending there wasn’t something else going on under the surface was another.

  “I’m sorry…” he blurted out.

  “Yeah, I can see that. But being sorry after the fact—well…thank you, I guess but more than that? Nope.”

  She paused while he stewed then offered a half-hearted, “See ya,” and dashed off.

  “HOUSTON…WE HAVE A PROBLEM,” Cam mumbled.

  They were in Denver, and it was fucking chilly. Not as cold as Chicago had been but the weather in both states had only made Drae yearn for the warmth of the Arizona sun.

  Having gone to stealth mode the minute they’d arrived, he and Cam had checked into a crappy hotel that had its work cut out for it trying to hold on to a three star rating.

  Leaving anything that even remotely seemed expensive on the plane, they looked like two thirty-something blue collar guys, backpacks in hand and several days’ scruff marking their faces. They’d paid for the adjoining rooms with a debit card reserved for just this type of occasion instead of flashing the black Amex each of them had at the ready. In short—they did nothing that would draw any attention their way.

  Hearing there was a problem? Shit. Now what. “Spit it out, bro. And don’t sugarcoat it.”

  Cam snickered, took a bite of the greasy quarter pounder on the table in front of him and fixed Drae with a serious look.

  “It’s worse than we thought. This is more than a college flit and a music festival.”

  “How much worse?”

  Taking a pull from the straw of a gigantic soda, Cam nodded his head and scowled.

  “Big time worse. He’s got a bookie on his ass. Don’t have all the details but his phone records show almost daily calls to some douchenozzle going by the name Eddie Balls.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake,” Drae snapped.

  “Yep. I know. His girlfriend has a yappy thing happening on Facebook. Apparently, nothing is too personal to blab to the entire fucking world. Luckily, her over-sharing is what’s leading us right to him.”

  Drae digested this information and thought it all through. “Does everyone know who he is? I mean, is it common knowledge where he comes from and who his father is?”

  “No. Not as far as I can tell. The University has him registered as Mark Allen. His real name, Majid al-Alain, appears nowhere.”

  “Thank Christ for that.”

  “Yeah. Agreed—but…the dumb fucker has been throwing money around like he’s printing it in his dorm. He started off betting on sporting events, and then moved on to the horses. Classic tough-guy, wannabe BMOC behavior.”

  “Motherfucker,” Drae groaned. “I’m gonna Big Man on Campus his dumb ass when I get a hold of him.”

  “Grab the keys to the rental and let’s go check out his motel. See what’s crapening.”

  Twenty minutes later, they were parked down the street from a seedy, one-story motor court with a dozen rooms that looked like it had been in this part of town for a century. There were a couple of cars and trucks parked in front and the old office, which was detached from the other building, had a NO VACANCY sign in the window.

  It was Cam who sauntered into the office to see what he could find out. The man did scruff a thousand times better than Drae did, something he had to admit as he glanced at his reflection in the rearview mirror. Even when he looked like shit, his fair coloring and rigid swagger earned more attention than it deflected.

  “Which room are they in?” Drae asked as Cameron slid back into the passenger seat.

  “End one, dammit.”

  “Fuck,” Drae bit out. The rooms on the end were always the most exposed. “Is there a rear door? An alleyway?

  “Both,” Cam sighed. “Laundry room in the rear and a two bin dumpster backed against some woods that stretch into the next block. Plenty of hiding spots. Manager says there’s also a path leading to a convenience store on the next street.”

  “Kid picked a great time to not flash some bills,” Drae replied. Concern was crowding his thoughts as he picked apart the situation facing them. “Do you know if he’s in there?”

  “No, but the girl is. Manager has a hard-on for her sophomore ass and has been watching. Probably waiting to come on to her if he catches her alone in the laundry. Piece of work, that one. Iraq Vet—which is the only reason why he gave up any information at all.”

  “Hmph,” he growled. “Will he mind his own fucking business or do we have to watch out for him, too?”

  “He asked if we did bounty. Think he wanted a cut if the
re was money on the line. I told him the kid owed us and we were here to collect. He backed off after that and let slip that we aren’t the only bad asses asking about who’s in room one.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yep. And just for shits ‘n grins, there are a couple of working girls at the other end. It’s quiet now but once the sun goes down, well…we won’t be the only guys lurking in the shadows. What do you think we should do?”

  Drae was already running options in his head. Time was not on their side. “Got an email from Calder. Sharif has flown out of London—on his way to Chicago. We’ve gotta wrap this kid up and get him out of here before this becomes an international incident.”

  “Hold up. Look,” Cam murmured tilting his head at the motel. “There’s the girlfriend.”

  They watched while the coed stood in the doorway to the room and spoke to whoever else was there. Hopefully, it was Majid. She fished around in the satchel slung over her shoulder, nodded a few times, then closed the door and took off at a fast clip—slipping behind the building and out of sight.

  “Convenience store run?” Cam questioned out loud.

  Drae was already pocketing the car keys and unbuttoning his old denim jacket. “Cocked, locked, and ready to rock, bro. Let’s do this thing while we have a chance.”

  They were out of the car and across the street with Cam taking up point at the window next to the door while Drae surveyed the area to make sure no one else was around. On instinct, he hugged the corner of the building and quickly peeked when a beefy paw came out of fucking nowhere and caught his jaw with a ferocious punch. It was a hell and a hand basket moment that quickly escalated.

  Next thing either of them knew two tremendous thugs, muscle for the pissed off bookie no doubt, were laying down one hell of a fight as Drae and Cam went into ass-kicking mode. They might have surprised the hell out of him with that initial punch, but Drae wasn’t someone to be fucked with in a physical confrontation. And neither was Cam.

  Fists flew, legs kicked, punches landed and blood dripped. In less than two minutes, they’d dropped both meat heads onto the pavement—looked around then calmly forced open the door to the motel room to find a shocked looking Majid cowering in a corner. They quickly dragged both unconscious men inside and slammed the door.