Always (Family Justice Book 1)

by Halliday, Suzanne

  They’d decided not to exchange presents until they were finally well and truly married, but that didn’t stop either of them from whipping out something significant and meaningful to mark the occasion.

  Alex gave her a card—not something he bought at the Hallmark store, either. Nope, this one was handmade, and while it resembled a fourth-grade art project, he’d added his own wording, written from his heart, that reduced her to a blubbering mess of hiccupping sobs.

  She’d given him a long wooden box that brought a frown to his face. “I thought we said no gift giving?” he grumbled.

  “Shut up,” she teased. “Just open the damn box.”

  Inside was a set of custom-made personalized drumsticks that had Thunder Cock burned into the wood. As soon as he saw the naughty reference, his frown turned to a sizzling, lecherous smile.

  “Trying to tell me something?”

  “Yes,” she simpered with a smirk. “That you pound the skins really well.”

  He burst out laughing, and then arched an eyebrow at her.

  “One breaking of the rules deserves another,” he announced as he disappeared into the dressing room and returned with a small gray box.

  He grinned at Meghan and placed a sweet kiss on her lips.

  “Thank you for the, uh, thunder sticks,” he said smoothly with just a hint of laughter. “And I see your cock reference and up you one bodacious ass reminder,” he teased as he tapped on the lid of the box. “Open it.”

  Trying not to smile herself to death, Meghan cracked open the lid on the box and stared for a moment because she wasn’t sure what she was seeing. Then when it hit her, she literally fell over in a fit of giggles.

  “Oh my God!” she screamed with delight. “A princess plug!”

  And that, as they say, was how to get a Christmas Day started off right.

  DINNER HAD BEEN FANTASTIC—IT always was, Alex thought. Something about having the family all together made any occasion a memorable one whether hot dogs out by the pool or a cozy holiday get-together.

  With Carmen, Gus, Ria, Ben, and Betty doing their own thing, it was just Meghan and he, his brothers, their wives and children, plus his uncle and Tori’s mom relaxing around the table. The inner core of Family Justice. Everyone contributed something to their meal, so one of them wasn’t stuck doing kitchen duty. This was exactly the way he hoped every Christmas Day from here on out went.

  After Daniel’s dramatic C-section arrival, Alex had decreed that all gift giving this year had to be either totally homemade, a gag or something with a value far less than one hundred dollars. After everything they’d all been through, he didn’t want a bunch of over-the-top presents. None of them really needed them anyway, and he didn’t want to take away from the importance of the day and his newfound passion for all things family.

  The highlights of their informal gift exchange were memorable. Stephanie surprised Calder with a t-shirt that had a bull and a logo that read Cattle Man’s Grille. He’d seemed perplexed until she explained that it was from a collection of random shit she had stored away—reminding him that the Grille had been her grandfather’s livelihood. He kissed her pretty goddamn thoroughly after that until Tori had sarcastically suggested they get a room.

  Meghan gave Cameron an outtake from the photo shoot she and the gals had done that showed a laughing Lacey with bright red lipstick, blowing a raspberry onto Dylan’s tummy during a candid moment as he giggled and grabbed her hair.

  Lacey surprised Tori with an autographed paperback that she’d acquired after an email exchange with the author. It was one of those trashy erotica things her sister loved so much by a writer named Ella Fox, who Tori assured everyone was the tits and the balls. Drae seemed a bit miffed to learn the expression book boyfriend was part of his wife’s vocabulary when she went off on a tear about some character named Dante from the story. Seeing the notorious womanizer green with jealousy over a character in a book was priceless.

  Since her photos were always a hit, she grinned when Alex was presented with a special framed photograph from Drae, Cam, and Calder. They insisted that it would be perfect for the vestibule of the new business center. She’d taken the picture, at their request, during a super-secret photo shoot one night just last week. Everything—the wardrobe, the poses, the props—all their idea.

  Alex couldn’t get over what he was seeing. There, in high definition glory was a clever, tongue-in-cheek picture of Drae in full tuxedo, top buttons of his white shirt undone with the black tie hanging around his neck. Sporting a pair of dark Ray-Bans with a Beretta in his hand, he looked more like James Bond than James Bond did. As far as inside jokes go that one would never get old.

  Next to him was Calder in some geek-worthy baggy khaki pants and a Stanford University t-shirt with suspenders under a white lab coat. His hair was a mess, and in his hand, he held a glowing orb.

  Balancing out the trio was Cam dressed in head-to-toe black. Black turtleneck, black shoulder holster showing the butt of a handgun, shit-kicking black boots, and black tactical pants—the ones with all the zippers and pockets that clearly showed a knife slid in the one on his calf while in one hand he held an iPhone with the other shoved in a pocket. With his shaggy dark hair, week-old scruff on his face, and that brooding dark scowl he was so damn good at.

  When Drae nudged her shoulder and passed her a gift bag decorated in a western theme with a poofy flume of tissue paper sticking out of the top, she looked at him with mild, puzzled amusement. What was he up to?

  She caught Alex’s eye who also looked bemused as he made his way to them. Good. She wanted him there in case she stuck her hand into a bag of spiders or something. She had three brothers, for Christ’s sake, and had been the butt of many of their pranks and jokes.

  Shuffling through the tissue, she peered into the bag with all the caution of a bomb squad at work. She saw something red but couldn’t quite make out what it was. Reaching in, she lifted it from the bag and felt her eyebrows bump in confusion as she found herself holding a big coil of red rope. There was a small tag hanging from the end that she cocked her head to the side to read. Scarlet Red Jute Shibari Bondage Rope.

  Shibari? What in the hell was that? Oh wait. Bondage rope. Noooowwww she got it. Gasping at the wicked reminder, Meghan frantically shoved the supposed gag gift back into the bag as she felt a fast burning blush creep up her neck. When she looked up at Alex, who stood at her shoulder, the tips of her ears felt like they were on fire, and she had no doubt they were bright red. When she found him choking on a laugh he tried to change to a cough, she wanted to smack him.

  Drae looked back and forth between them with an expression of total innocence and said, “What? No good?”

  Alex tried to sound dangerous and all badass when he spoke, but it came out as a squeaking stammer made all the worse by his lame attempt not to laugh.

  “I’m gonna kick your ass.”

  “I’d like to see you try old man,” Drae bawled with a snorting laugh.

  It was Tori who picked up on the odd exchange. “Hey,” she called out. “What’s going on with you guys? What’s in the bag, Irish?”

  “Nothing!” Meghan blurted out at the same time Alex said the same thing.

  Tori stood up and marched right over to them with Daniel clutched in her arms.

  “Okay. You’re keeping a secret and I hate secrets.”

  Oh shit, Meghan thought.

  “What’s in the damn bag, Irish, and how come your face looks like it’s on fire?”

  Meghan didn’t move or respond. After all, what was she supposed to do? Whip out the rope and start a conversation in front of Tori’s mother about the many clever uses for a hank of bondage rope?

  Tori tapped her foot impatiently and scowled at the three of them. It probably didn’t help things that the men were highly amused and almost sheepish looking while Meghan sat there with a deep blush and the look of someone who very much wanted the floor to open up and swallow them whole.

  “Lace, get
over here,” she demanded. “They’re keeping a secret, you know.”

  Lacey jumped into it, dragging Cam with her. “A secret?” she asked. “Who?”

  “Find out what’s in the there,” Tori gestured with a nod of her head toward the garish bag. “If my husband is handing out surprise gifts, I’d like to know what it is.”

  Meghan was stunned by how quickly Lacey snagged the bag from her hands with an enthusiastic laugh. “No secrets, Red! You know the rules.”

  Lacey fished around in the bag and extracted the rope coil. When she did, Cam hissed in surprise and muttered, “Dude. Oh no, you didn’t!”

  Meghan gasped. Goddammit. Did Cam also know about what Drae stumbled upon in the horse barn? She glared at Alex.

  Tori turned on Cam. “You know what this is about?”

  Cam had that deer-in-the-headlights look and just said, “Uhhhh…”

  Lacey jumped all over her husband’s response with mock indignation that was classic Ponytail.

  “Wait—you know what’s going on? Why Meghan is blushing beet red? Why Drae looks like he won the fantasy football pool? Why Alex seems mighty proud of himself?”

  Cam continued with the “Uhhhhh…”

  “So, let me get this straight,” Tori quipped. “You guys, the four of you, have a secret that only Lacey and I don’t know about?”

  Meghan grabbed the damn red rope and shoved it back into the bag. Thank fucking God they hadn’t read out loud what the tag said because Calder and Stephanie, who were sitting by the fireplace, were starting to get interested in what they were talking about.

  “Drop it, Tori,” she muttered. “It’s just a joke. No big deal.”

  “Uh uh. Not buying it.”

  Meghan glared at Drae whose amused smirk said it all.

  “Paybacks are a bitch, huh?” he joked.

  “Well, I don’t know why I’m the one getting the payback. You should be rubbing the Major’s face in this, not mine.”

  Drae quirked a grin and laughed. “I am rubbing it in his face.”

  She had to laugh. It was funny then and it was just as funny now.

  “Fuck,” she muttered tersely as she stood up and motioned to Tori and Lacey while continuing to glare at Drae.

  “Thanks. Now I have to tell them. Merry fucking Christmas to me.”

  She stomped to the corner of the room like a four-year-old who was just told there’d be no candy for Halloween and dragged the ladies with her for a private convo. At no point did she back off on the glare she fixed on Draegyn St. John.

  Luckily, both sisters were laughing at her antics and clinging to each other with merriment.

  “Jesus, Irish. What the fuck’s going on?” Tori chuckled and asked.

  With one last venomous glare at Drae, she then turned her back on him so he didn’t get the satisfaction of seeing her smile.

  She waved Lacey and Tori in closer and spoke quickly and quietly. They had to really be listening to catch every word she said.

  “The day Cam and Drae came back from Chicago, Alex and I were in the barn by ourselves. We didn’t know the boys were back. Anyway, we were uh…messing around. For fun…”

  “For fun?” Lacey questioned.

  “Yes, for fun, Alex tied my hands together and then attached the rope to a hook in the ceiling of the Marquez tack room.”

  “Ho-leeeeee shit,” Tori choked out on a laugh.

  Frowning sternly at her, Meghan continued. “Anyway…Drae sort of stumbled upon me while Alex was out of the room.”

  “Please tell me you were dressed,” Lacey begged, also with a laugh being choked down.

  Meghan had to snicker at the memory. “Actually, yes I was, but my shirt was hanging open. Long and the short of it is Drae practically vapor-locked and Alex told me later he freaked out on him for leaving the door open and kept saying something about bleeding from the eyeballs.”

  “So, Cameron wasn’t part of this?” Lacey questioned.

  “I didn’t know until just now that he even knew about it. Guess Drae told him after he ran from the barn.”

  “So the red rope is what?”

  “Well, besides a thoughtful and well-meaning way of reminding me of an embarrassing moment—it’s a length of jute that’s used for bondage.”

  “Bondage?” Tori shrieked.

  Meghan told her to shut the fuck up when Stephanie looked over at them when she heard Tori’s yelp. Cam, Drae, and Alex all looked like they were about to fall down laughing.

  “We are one seriously fucked-up bunch of clowns,” she muttered aloud to no one in particular.

  Lacey and Tori hugged her from either side.

  “Aw, come on, Red,” Lacey cooed. “It’s Christmas. Let’s at least try for elves instead of clowns.”

  They stood there in a sisterly hug and laughed. This was what made their family so unique.

  IT HAD BEEN A LONG day for everyone and was getting late when talk finally turned to the significance of the New Year on the horizon and what that meant for all of them.

  Lacey, everyone discovered, had decided to start taking child development classes online and work toward a degree in early childhood. She gushed enthusiastically about the shed at the edge of the side yard at the cabin that Cameron was renovating. He was creating a small office that she could ‘go to’ when she studied so it felt more like attending class than squeezing in study time.

  Stephanie was pleased to hear how contented and fulfilled Lacey was. She was a calming influence on Victoria. It was good that her daughter had a close friend nearby who was also a first-time mother trying to figure it all out. Good for Lacey, she thought. Expanding her world was only going to make her a happier wife and mother.

  The boys were like a bunch of excited kids at space camp, excitedly rambling on about their new vision for the agency. Calder was the lead geek in charge, babbling enthusiastically about his part in the venture. They decided to call his division Tech ‘n Toys and unilaterally decided in Brody’s absence that he was responsible for organizing the monthly poker game—with the ladies permission for a guys’ night out, of course.

  It really was gearing up to be a helluva year.

  Tori and Drae shared that after the upcoming wedding, they were planning a belated honeymoon and that Carmen had agreed to tag along as Daniel’s nanny since, with the Villa empty while Alex and Meghan also honeymooned, she wouldn’t have anything to do. Besides—who’d turn down a luxury vacation in a private estate on Maui?

  When Meghan and Alex started talking about the wedding and how they couldn’t wait for Alex’s little sister, Angelina, to arrive from Spain, it dawned on Stephanie that once the new year began and things returned to normal—it’d be time for her to leave. Hearing that Angie was due for an extended stay leading up to the big day only drove the point home further.

  She glanced at her daughter. Tori was nestled against her husband’s chest, with their precious son in her arms while Drae’s arm stayed protectively around her shoulder. They’d weathered the storm and come out the other side stronger and happier than before.

  Stephanie had achieved what she came here to do. Her daughter and husband were on solid ground. Daniel was strong, healthy, and growing like a weed. That was what it had all been about. It was time to think about leaving.

  But every time she heard Calder laugh, or felt his arm brush up against hers, or smelled his cologne—she struggled.

  As the group left and it was time to say their good-byes, there were a lot of hugs and kisses to go around. This had been a Christmas Stephanie was likely never to forget.

  Calder asked if she wanted to return to the casita with him, but she couldn’t face any of that right now. Luckily, she had the excuse of Daniel’s first Christmas for duck and cover, but she couldn’t ignore the bummed out way he’d accepted her refusal.

  She needed time to think. To put things in perspective and start making plans. In four months, she’d be fifty. There was a little boy in her life now that one day would call
her mom mom. That she’d begun to lose her heart to the handsome surfer-nerd was a complication she hadn’t seen coming and didn’t know how to deal with.

  “WHAT THE FUCK IS UP with you, Unc?” Alex asked.

  Calder heard the unmistakable sound of genuine concern beneath the sarcastic question.

  “Stephanie’s leaving soon,” he muttered.

  Alex tossed the prospectus he was reading onto the desk and joined Calder at the wet bar just as he was pouring Maker’s Mark into a tumbler. He caught his nephew’s quizzical look and probably shouldn’t have been surprised when he drawled, “It’s serious, then, I take it,” as he looked pointedly at the distinctive bottle with the red wax drip. “Converted you, she did,” he quipped. “Taken the Dirty Bird to the dark side, she has.”

  Humph. It was true. Shit was serious. She’d most definitely converted him. And as far as that dark side stuff? If the seething anger he was feeling over his powerlessness in this situation was any indication, then—yes. Yes. There was some dark side shit going down.

  Alex reached for the Glenfiddich and poured a couple of fingers out then fixed him with a mocking smirk. “Now you see with me and Red? I didn’t pussy out like someone else I know did and start changing my ways.”

  Her knocked back a healthy slug of the golden liquid then banged the glass on the bar for emphasis. “But unfortunately,” he admitted in a conspiratorial tone, “the lady can drink my ass under the table so that’s a bit of a problem. But I’ll be damned if I’m going to give up my whiskey so she can housebreak me into drinking that Jameson shit.”

  “Fuck you, Alex,” Calder muttered with a chuckle before he took an enormous mouthful of his drink, swallowed it, and tracked the slow burn all the way down his throat into his stomach.

  “Feel better? Want me to get you a blankie? You’re not gonna cry, are you?”

  “No. No, and fuck no, you little shit. Stop making fun of me. This is serious, dude.”

  “As someone who at one point lost his damn mind and drove the best thing that ever happened to him away, I have to ask you this. Why is she leaving?”