Ten seconds passed, and then his brain screamed it louder.
Oh.
My.
Fucking.
God.
Was it possible his wife was pregnant?
The meeting with Alex’s security chief went well, she supposed. Half the time, Meghan had no idea what they were talking about, but her husband sure was enthusiastic.
The animated video presentation with the proposed security net for Family Justice was too technical for her, but judging by the gleam in her husband’s eyes, it was some form of nerd porn.
Yeah. Whatever. Her mind was busy trying to make sense of the morning puke-fest. Alex was mostly silent during the whole embarrassing episode. Vomiting into the toilet was hardly glamorous or sexy. Plus, she’d been a righteous mess after. But he took it like a champ. He kept her from falling face-first into the bowl and held her hair out of the way as she yakked. He even cleaned her up after while she huddled on a stool wrapped in a big bath sheet.
Neither one of them said out loud what she knew they were both thinking.
As Duke and her husband wandered around the head of security’s tiny office, she overheard them discussing moving him into the bottom of the old business center. He could have the entire first floor, and they’d renovate it any way he wanted. She was moved by the Major’s firm insistence that from here on out, he, his Justice brothers, and their families had round-the-clock security.
Stretching because she’d been sitting too long, Meghan pushed away from the conference table and stood up. The minute she moved a muscle, Alex’s eyes were on her. Smiling, she waved him off so he’d relax. She was fine.
A phone rang. It was Duke’s. He looked at the screen and said, “This is our man stationed at the cutoff.”
Alex explained. “Until we get the guard house built, Duke will keep a security detail in a Sprinter van to block the access road, so nobody can come up here without being authorized.”
There was some grunting back and forth which to Meghan’s untrained ears sounded like code and then the call ended. Duke looked at her and then at Alex.
“You’ve got a delivery. Be here in a minute.”
Oh jeez, she thought. Will every delivery van get stopped? That’d suck. Especially considering her QVC compulsion and Carmen’s addiction to Amazon Prime.
Alex must have read her mind. “We might have to figure out what to do about FedEx and UPS. Ben goes to town every day for the mail, so at least that’s not a problem.”
“This isn’t that kind of delivery,” Duke assured them. He looked straight at her and motioned to the chair she just vacated. “Ma’am,” he murmured politely. “You may want to sit down.”
They were in a new building not far from the recently constructed main entrance to what was now being referred to as Camp Justice. The military guys identified with the reference, and it had more meaning.
If the delivery was coming here, then that meant the security detail diverted it from going to the main house. Seemed like a lot of fuss to her.
Duke called out, “Major.”
Alex looked up. She saw him frown and then square his shoulders. A man she’d never seen before walked in. If she had to describe him, she’d use words like menacing, fierce, and unyielding.
The man saluted smartly and said, “Major Marquez, sir,” in a firm voice. “Sorry to interrupt,” he added with a half glance in her direction. Turning back to her husband, the man motioned with his head. “Think I have something that belongs to you.”
Shuffling awkwardly, a big man with long dark hair and a beard came through the door. With his arm in an elaborate sling, he moved slowly, skirting around the desk before coming to a halt in front of Alex. That was when her heart exploded with joy.
Cameron. Cameron was alive and looked to be in one piece, if only somewhat banged up.
He fell into an emotional hug with Alex that made her wipe away a tear. There was some conversation after that. Men talk. Military speak. She sat still and gripped the chair to keep from falling off.
After an eternity, Cam turned to her. “I’m not ignoring you, Irish. One foot, ya know?”
She covered her mouth, peered at him through tears, and nodded her head. Yeah. One foot. It was a saying she knew well. One the three of them used. It meant sometimes all you can do is put one foot in front of the other—and hope you keep moving and don’t fall.
Waving her hand, she gave him permission to ignore her completely. Right this second, she was too busy holding herself together.
A few more minutes of conversation ensued. As the shock of Cam’s return eased, Meghan focused on her husband. His bearing was strong, commanding. This was Major Marquez. She had trouble swallowing for a minute. The unnamed man delivering Cam into Justice’s hands set the tone for this strange encounter. She saw Alex’s reaction when he appeared.
Whatever they were discussing was serious. Alex raked his fingers through his hair, and her stomach bottomed out at the movement. It was one of his few tells. Her shoulders tensed when he rolled his. Crossing his muscular arms in front of his chest, she noted from her side viewpoint that his hands clenched into tight fists.
Every atom in her body felt tingly. She heard her irregular breathing and caught the shuddering rise and fall of her chest. It was a unique perspective—seeing him slide effortlessly into command mode. She’d always known her man was a natural dominant, and that it was in his blood. But when she saw those traits in action, something came over her. Remembering how handsome he looked in his dress uniform the morning of their secret wedding vows in the desert, Meghan shivered with awareness and sighed quietly.
His sharp gaze found her before the last of the breath left her lungs. A single nod. An unruffled calm swept over her. The Major had this. The outcome, no longer in doubt.
Cam murmured something to her husband. Alex put his hand on the man’s shoulder. She couldn’t hear his hushed response, but right away, Cameron appeared to relax. Alex held out a hand and waved her close.
When she reached them, Cam turned his head and kissed her softly on the cheek. She rubbed her hand gently back and forth between his shoulder blades while Alex spoke and Duke plus the creepy man left them alone.
“Honey, I want you to call Lacey. Tell her to meet you at the cabin right away. Make up whatever story you think will get her there.” His pointed look made her pause. What was he trying not to say? “Don’t freak her out, okay?”
Right. She understood and smiled as she nodded. Cam didn’t know his wife was pregnant, and Alex wanted to ensure Lacey’s absolute right to be the one to tell him.
“I’ll contact Drae and update him. Probably wouldn’t hurt for you to head to their place and lend a hand with the kids.”
Cam finally spoke to her. His voice was strained, gravelly. She wondered how much pain he was in. “Give my son a kiss from his papa.”
Meghan winked, kissed his cheek, and stepped back. The look her husband bestowed made her shoulders straighten and brought her chin even higher. Pride and admiration shone through his loving gaze.
“Give us a minute, baby.”
She mouthed ‘I love you.’ His lips quirked a tiny smile.
Leaving them, she wandered outside into the heat of the afternoon and took an enormous deep breath with her arms flung wide and her face turned toward the blazing sun.
“Thank you, God,” she whispered into a passing breeze.
Putting both hands on her tummy, she inhaled deeply again.
She looked at Duke where he stood a couple hundred feet away in deep conversation with what she was pretty sure was an out-of-uniform warrior.
Her eyes swept the edge of Camp Justice. Everywhere she looked, her eyes found new. New faces, new buildings, new systems, new challenges.
It felt to her as if a page was turning. Not just for the agency but Family Justice as well. Her family. The one she made here in Arizona and the one she came from back in Boston.
Changes.
Then she thoug
ht about the craziness. The chaos. The mayhem. The stuff that was the juicy center of this wonderful, sometimes difficult thing called life. All that and so much more were essential to the new chapter she felt gaining momentum all around them.
If she were pregnant, she’d be part of a miracle. Giving birth to what Nietzsche called a dancing star. Born from chaos but oh, what a wonderful light!
All of them were adding stars to the heavens. Dylan. Daniel. Even sweet baby Bella Mia. And now Lacey and Cam adding to their family. Stephanie and Calder too and God willing, her and Alex.
Parker and Angie weren’t far behind, but she smiled knowing the poor counselor had quite a few more hoops to navigate before his Desert Angel sealed the deal with a wedding and a family.
Now, if only Victoria and Draegyn would get it together. She thought about Drae’s plan to win his wife back and laughed out loud. Suddenly, she couldn’t wait for the family dinner at Whiskey Pete’s.
IN THE TINY room they converted to Dylan’s play space, Lacey shoved his big toy box to the side with her hip and shimmied it into a corner.
“There,” she murmured aloud. Quickly rearranging the low shelf overflowing with toddler books, it took only a minute to make everything right again.
Good enough.
Not sure how big the riding toy Meghan was bringing would be, she wanted to leave plenty of room in case her son’s aunt and uncle lost their minds and bought something life-size.
It was good to be home even if it was just for a little while. She missed her house and her comfortable routines.
Pressing a hand to her flat belly, she willed the tension to float on by. Staying with Drae and Tori was the Justice way. Her pregnancy assured everyone would close ranks and do whatever it took to take care of Lacey and her son until Cameron returned.
The sound of a vehicle pulling up in the driveway alerted her to Meghan’s arrival. She hurriedly rearranged a few more toys so the shelves and cubbies didn’t look so cluttered.
“Hola, Mrs. Cameron,” she heard Alex’s big voice boom. “Got a delivery for you, Ponytail. Where are you, woman?”
“I’ll be right there,” she called out. “I’m in the playroom.”
Leaving the room’s sliding barn doors open, she wandered down the hallway, picking things up and gathering a pile of the baby’s clothes she’d forgotten to toss in a hamper.
“Sorry,” she mumbled. Juggling an armful of stuff made it difficult to avoid crashing into a trashcan just inside the kitchen’s back door. “Left in a daze,” she admitted to a broadly smiling Alex. “I hate messes.”
“So where do you want this?” Alex asked with a nonchalant jerk of his thumb over his shoulder. “Got it out on the porch.”
“I cleared a spot in the playroom. Do you think that’s okay? I mean, I suppose,” she offered as plan B occurred in her mind, “we could put it right in the living room.”
“Cool,” Alex happily bellowed. “Excellent. The living room then.” He turned and dashed out the door. She stood there looking around while trying to decide what to do with the armful of stuff she still held.
The back door opened and closed. She glanced at Alex, who was leading a big, rough looking man with long hair and a scraggly beard. One of his arms hung limp at his side, and it appeared that without Alex’s help, he might have struggled.
When he looked into her eyes, everything in her arms went crashing to the floor. Covering her mouth with both hands, she just lost it. Shaking all over and barely able to see from the river of tears instantly flooding her eyes, Lacey didn’t know how she didn’t faint dead away.
Cameron.
All the strength he counted on her to have when his other life took him away got blown to bits by an avalanche of emotions she couldn’t contain.
“Ponytail,” he grunted in a voice choked with emotion.
Her legs gave out. Feeling her body start to fall, she gasped with relief when her husband caught her with one arm and drew her against him. They were both shaking uncontrollably. Unable to help it, Lacey threw her arms around his shoulders and began to sob into his neck.
A deep voice, speaking soft and low said, “I’ll leave you to it, then.”
He held her while she cried it out. With her face pressed into his neck, Lacey breathed him in and then cried some more.
“Shh, Ponytail. Everything’s okay. It’s over, princess. I came home. Just like I promised.”
Tears and snot all over her face, she pulled back and sniffed. Reaching for his head, she ran her fingers through his thick dark hair and pushed it back from his handsome face. Exploring the beard ended when she grabbed his face and softly kissed his lips.
Lacey’s questing hands continued to gauge her husband’s physical condition. His neck and shoulders side to side. When she touched the bicep of the arm hanging limp at his side, he grimaced. Groaning her dismay, she stopped the examination and looked deeply into his gorgeous eyes.
“Shrapnel,” he told her. “And some minor burns. All from the explosion. Yes. Hurts like a motherfucker,” he assured her when her bottom lip trembled. “And no. Pain meds are off the table. Fuck that shit.”
“I don’t want to hear anymore,” she whispered. “Tell me what you need. What can I do?”
“Baby,” he ground out as their foreheads tilted and touched. “I just need you. You’re all I’ll ever need, Lacey.”
Whispering words of love, they hugged it out in the kitchen. Noticing the back door was shut and locked, she realized Alex must have taken care of it when he left.
“Are you hungry? Thirsty?” she asked.
Cameron touched her face gently. She kissed his fingers. “I love how you take care of me and our son.”
The words he spoke were emotional and choked up. Taking care of her two boys was at the core of everything she did.
“Can we just go to bed?” he asked. “I’m so fucking tired. Haven’t had a decent night’s sleep since I left here.”
Gently guiding him by his good arm, she led him slowly to the second floor and helped him shed the clothes he’d traveled in. The sight of his mangled arm and painful looking scorched skin hit her like a house of bricks falling. She’d come closer to losing him than she imagined.
After helping him wash up, it was short work getting him settled in their big bed. He was exhausted from the effort, and she worried what all this meant but didn’t dwell on it.
Her husband was home. He said he needed her. Lacey could focus on that.
Quickly undressing, she slid on a long, soft nightie and crawled onto the bed. Propped against the headboard, with her phone and a decanter of fresh water on the nightstand, she pulled her banged up warrior close. He laid his head on her shoulder and relaxed against her. Being extra careful of his injuries, she held him tight, smoothed her hands over his hair, and tried to share whatever healing energy she could.
He slept for two hours. Lacey was more than content to stay right where she was and hold him for days if that was what he needed.
When he stirred, she kept a watchful eye to make sure he didn’t move in a way that would aggravate the trauma his body suffered. The sight of his torn and bloodied flesh almost made her ill. Horrible swathes of red, angry skin—the result of the explosion—marred his arm and one side of his chest.
He’d have some scarring, and she didn’t care. Cameron Justice would always be beautiful in her eyes. No matter what.
An agony in her soul broke loose when he struggled off the bed so he could use the bathroom. She knew he was against the use of narcotics, but maybe he should reconsider.
Slipping on the long, light cashmere robe that matched her nightie, she was at the end of the bed when her handsome, brooding alpha warrior came back from the bathroom. He looked strange. Shocked maybe. Or perhaps alarmed was a better word.
He held up his hand, and her heart skipped a beat.
“Is this what I think it is?”
Lacey examined what he held. Of the half dozen pregnancy tests she’d ta
ken—all positive—she’d kept the first one.
Nodding, she held her breath as it sank in.
Without warning, he started to cry. Rushing to her, he folded her in a fierce one-arm embrace. It was her turn to hold him while the emotions swept him away.
She thought about their future and felt nothing but joy. Grabbing his head, she shook him and giggled. “No more tears! No more worrying about what might have happened.” Smiling so big her eyes bugged out, she laughed. “Cameron!” she cried with undimmed glee. “We’re having a baby!”
He looked at her with an astonished expression. Then he laughed too.
“That, uh, encounter”—he smirked—“in my office before those fuckers sucked me in?”
“Well, I don’t know if that’s the exact moment lightning struck, but I’ll tell you what, sweetie. I like the idea of having the backstory for a daughter or son number two beginning on your desk.” She shivered with delicious excitement. “It was raunchy and wicked and definitely hot.”
Cameron chuckled. She still loved it every damn time he smiled. “Ponytail, when did you become such a wanton? Hmm?” He threaded some hair behind one of her ears and ran a finger down her face.
“When?” she teased playfully. “I can tell you exactly when.”
He arched an eyebrow and waited.
“It all started one night in a motel room when this incredibly handsome guy was passed out sick as a dog, and I had to take care of him. Tried not to look”—she snickered as a blush crept up her neck—“but he had a temperature, and all I had was a washcloth and a dish of cool water. Wanton by necessity.”
“I love you, Lacey Cameron.”
“Yeah, well you had better,” she joked with a gentle poke in his ribs. “Knocked me up again. Sheesh. People are gonna think we’re doing it.”
He howled with laughter. Smiling, he told her, “You are more precious to me than you can possibly imagine.”
She beamed.
“Come on then, wife. Let’s get dressed. I have a sudden need to see our son.”
Does it get better than this, she wondered. Their unusual love story started when a brooding dark knight rescued a ponytailed virgin, and the rest, as they said, was history.
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