Unforgettable (Family Justice Book 5)

by Suzanne Halliday

“So you want two kids? Is that what you’re saying?”

  How the hell do women manage to do that, he wondered while drying his hands. One minute he was Mr. Talks-for-a-Living and the next she managed to pin him down with less than a dozen words.

  Badass struck down by an angel. He mentally snickered.

  “I want whatever you want, baby girl,” he told her with calm assurance. “I’m not the one who gets pregnant.”

  “Why haven’t we talked about this until now?”

  She was kidding, right? They might not have drawn up a plan and yeah, most of their talk had been wide-ranging but they had talked about it. Shit. Wasn’t agreeing on how many bedrooms they needed sort of like discussing it?

  This felt a lot like the part where he asked her to marry him on the spur of the moment, she said yes, but then because he wasn’t prepared with a ring she wasn’t necessarily backtracking but it certainly dangled the possibility. That was until recently when she tripped up and handed him an opening.

  Women.

  He’d been in front of enough juries to recognize when a conversation was going nowhere but in circles. She was all over the place emotionally and discussing anything with her would end up a shit show, so he took her by surprise, scooped her into his arms and marched with her to the stairs and stomped a rhythm up and down the short hallway to the master suite.

  “We were talking,” she objected with a growling sniff.

  “And now we aren’t.”

  Not much she could say to that! Expecting her to have a comeback statement, he was surprised when she didn’t.

  In the master suite, he took her to the cozy seating area next to the doors leading to the private terrace that had more than just a view. It connected to the playroom carefully concealed from inside the house but easily accessed from the connecting terrace.

  He forced himself not to think about the custom room that he had yet to see. Angie wasn’t ready to unveil just yet and he respected her request that he didn’t interfere.

  Placing her on the wide love seat he let her settle then asked, “Want me to run you a bath?”

  “No. Sit down,” she murmured quietly. Patting the space next to her he sat and waited for her next move.

  They were quiet for a few minutes. He pretended to look around at the freshly painted and decorated room while what he was really doing was assessing her every breath and movement.

  “Tell me what’s going on in that over active mind, angel.”

  He was proud of her when she answered immediately. She wasn’t afraid to let him into her feelings. It took a special woman to feel secure enough to be so open.

  “Alex is going to be a father.”

  Her words were half murmured, half whispered in a voice full of wonder and a shit ton of love.

  Parker slid his hand beneath her waterfall of hair and wrapped his hand around the back of her neck.

  “He’ll be an amazing dad,” he offered with his own choked emotion.

  She swiveled and faced him. He lost his grip on her neck and wished she hadn’t moved. It was easier to read her when she was close enough to touch.

  “Where would we all be if he hadn’t…” she didn’t finish the awful sentence. Didn’t need to. He knew what she was getting at.

  “There’d be no compound. No Justice. Cam and Drae would be who knows where. There’d be no Lacey. Or Dylan. No Stephanie Bennett to plead with Alex for help with her daughter and no Tori and Daniel. Meghan wouldn’t be part of our lives either.”

  Oh god. He hated this line of thought. It was too real. Too raw because everything Angie described had been a heartbeat away from possibility.

  “And what about us, Parker? If Meghan hadn’t needed help with the wedding, I never would have come back from Spain. And my parents,” she shuddered. “Without Alexander they would be gutted.”

  “We were always going to find our way back, baby girl. Don’t ever doubt it. Yes, what you say is all true. None of that would have happened but Angie,” he told her with all the love he had in his heart. “You and I have been connected for a lifetime. Maybe all of eternity. You are the only woman I want to spend my life with and be the mother of my kids. You know that, right?”

  His argument must have shattered her doubts because she fell into his arms. “What would I do without you?”

  He held her for a long time.

  “Even after all this time, I don’t think you fully understand how much I love and adore you Angelina Marquez.”

  She tilted her head to look at him. For the first time he had a clear view of her fears. She was scared, he saw it in her eyes. What was making her so unsure?

  For the zillionth time, he staked his claim. “You belong to me. From the first time our eyes met when you were nothing but a bundle wrapped in pink to this very second. Even when we were apart, you were mine. I will never give you up. I made an unbreakable vow with Uncle Cris to put you first, angel, and always keep you safe.”

  “Are you happy, Parker?” she asked in a small, unsure voice.

  Shit. Really?

  “Honey, until you came back into my life and kicked some Arizona dirt in my face, I didn’t know what being happy was.”

  A smile was tugging at her lips.

  “I’m happy when you act up. Happy when you let that filthy mouth of yours loose. Happy when you change your mind six times in four minutes.”

  That got a quick giggle.

  “I’m happy when you pack me snacks every day in that horrific Chewbacca lunchbox. I’m happy when you use all the toothpaste and leave the empty tube for me to find. I’m happy when you send my secretary on a three-hour errand to the other side of town for a case of my dad’s favorite tequila.”

  “I love Uncle Matt,” she chuckled.

  “Yeah? And he loves you, angel.”

  Because she was Angie and could be counted on to never do what he expected, she slayed him with a statement that held no ambiguity whatsoever.

  “I do want to marry you Parker Sullivan, Esquire. And I want to make some beautiful babies too.” She slapped him on the knee and shook her finger in his face. “So get your old man ass in gear and get on with it, would you?”

  Wait a minute. “Did you call me an old man,” he growled?

  She jumped up and made to bolt for the other side of the room but he grabbed her wrist and kept her from moving. Giving her ass a meaningful swat, he stood up and started dragging her into the en-suite bath.

  “Just for that young lady, you can do the honors tonight. Get your ass in the shower and prepare to serve your master.”

  She yelped at the smack and jumped. Then balls out laughed in his face.

  “You just wait till I get you in the playroom. Then we’ll see who’s master.”

  She was winding him up and he loved every second. There was no question whatsoever about their relationship roles and there never had been. The sheer fact that she continued to issue challenges and tried so hard at times to top him just made Parker laugh.

  In the bathroom he undressed and gave her a lengthy, leering inspection as she did the same. “Remind me to ask you when your throat is massaging my dick, how exactly you plan to be the master.”

  Her laughter bouncing off the tile walls made his dick rock hard. “Move it,” she drawled with a sweeping hand gesture. “Under the water, big guy. I’m feeling a midnight ride coming on so better get you lathered up and ready to mount.”

  “Nice try,” he chuckled while grabbing hold and pushing her into the shower. “First you work off the old man comment face down and ass up. If you’re a good girl and have anything left after I’m through, we’ll talk about a ride.”

  As water streamed down from the big square showerhead, Angie wrapped her arms around his neck and wiggled against his body.

  “I want to stop taking the pill after the holidays.”

  He blinked. Then blinked again. Holy fucking god. It finally happened. Angelina Marquez was ready, at last, to grab that future they deserved and wrestle
the tricky bitch to the ground.

  His heart nearly exploded with happiness.

  Before the emotional tears threatening to engulf him could grab hold, he held her tight and lowered his mouth saying, “I will love you forever,” before claiming her with a kiss that went on and on and on.

  They came through the front door holding hands and were immediately greeted by a blubbering Carmen.

  “Bebé!” she screamed as she came forward and threw her arms around them.

  “That certainly didn’t take long,” Alex muttered good-naturedly.

  Meghan could only smile. They were pregnant and now everyone knew.

  Folding her into a bear hug Carmen kept muttering, “Madre de Dios. A baby,” with such wonder it made Meghan choke up.

  “Your mama is so happy,” she told them in a bright, cheerful voice. She saw the way her Major grinned at the woman’s praise.

  Two minutes of congratulations and ecstatic laughing later and Carmen broke out the here’s-how-it’s-gonna-go basics. She and Alex looked at each other in wonder.

  “Did you eat something Meesus Meghan?”

  Carmen looked at Alex while asking the question. Meghan wanted to laugh but knew she shouldn’t. Her poor husband was going to be ridden hard by pretty much everyone now that the news of her pregnancy was out.

  “At ease Sergeant Delgado,” the Major said with a warm laugh. “My wife ate enough you nosey woman. Relax. I’ve got this.”

  “I’ve heard that before,” Carmen sniped. “Men. Sheesh.”

  Knowing those two would stand around and exchange one-liners for the rest of the night, she patted Alex on the arm and walked off. She needed some tea to settle her stomach and a cracker to nibble on.

  It was one of her favorite pleasures when every morning she rounded the distinctive Spanish archway leading to the Villa’s enormous kitchen and caught her first sight of the modern, homey space. The memory of her first time in the jaw-dropping cook’s kitchen and Alex’s ‘aw shucks’ reaction to her amazement would always bring a smile. He’d been so charming and funny—not at all what she’d been expecting—that it made perfect sense now why she fell so hard and so fast.

  Alexander Valleja-Marquez, her Major, was an original. One-of-a-kind. He was the sort of man that other men showed a distinct deference to. It was as though whenever Alex walked in, that reaction to the presence of a superior happened by rote. Was it in his blood? Would a son of his be cut from the same mold as his father?

  She hurried to the kettle and flipped it on. It drove Carmen batshit crazy that Meghan preferred the electric bubbler to the ancient copper kettle that the housekeeper kept filled and on the stove. How the water got boiled was one of their few kitchen clashes due mostly to the fact that Meghan couldn’t cook worth a damn and Alex’s housekeeper along with Ria, the official tongue-in-cheek chef for Justice and the villa, took care of all those details.

  What did that mean for her? She was essentially a lady of leisure whose time was spent seeing to the welfare of their large, extended Justice family and the needs of her husband.

  It was a tough life.

  Kicking off her shoes, she left them in a corner by the doors leading to the breezeway connecting Carmen’s private quarters to the main house. Padding silently across the distinctive tile floor, she went into the walk-in pantry and began searching for something plain to nibble on.

  As usual, there were enough snacks and random sugary crap piled on the shelves to satisfy her alpha husband’s traveling squad of gun toting merry-men. She sighed. Would it kill one of them to choose an apple? Honestly!

  Obscured from view behind the pantry’s open door, she heard Alex and Carmen move into the kitchen. He sounded like a man well pleased. With himself, of course, because what guy didn’t feel like he deserved a continuous round of back-pats for his role in a pregnancy?

  About to make her presence known, she stopped when Carmen launched into an epic lecture that she was pretty sure was being delivered with a lot of finger wagging and serious looks. It also appeared as though the formidable Latina lost most of her accent when she was on a roll. Nothing like making a point in a second language and doing it with all the appropriate huffs, snorts and sneers.

  “You are the husband, Alexander. Just like your Papa when Meesus Ashleigh had her babies. Men do not get a nine-month vacation. You understand this, yes?”

  “Uh, yeah,” Alex answered.

  “Good. This will save us time. There are things you must do. Right now.”

  Meghan’s brows rose. Wow. Carmen sounded gruff and demanding. She tried peeking through the crack in the door to see if she could catch a glimpse of the Major’s face. He wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of barked orders.

  Dammit. All she could see was his shoulder, but a second glance showed he was shuffling his feet, clearly uncomfortable. Her hand flew to her mouth to cover any stray squeaks of amusement.

  “No more going off by herself. I won’t have it,” Carmen snarled. “Anything could happen.”

  She gasped silently. Oh good grief. Don’t say stuff like that to him, Meghan mentally grumbled. He took everything so damn literal.

  “The meesus needs to sleep. That one is all on you, Major. I will fill the refrigerator with her favorites and together we will make sure she eats.”

  Alex muttered something that may or may not have been thanks. She couldn’t tell.

  “And you will tell that crew of grown-up boys to remember your wife carries the future of the Valleja-Marquez family. You respect the blessing God has granted you. This is something Abuelita would tell you if she was here.”

  Tears gathered at warp speed in Meghan’s eyes. She thought of Abuelita’s portrait in the upstairs hallway and the countless times she’d stopped to chat with Alex’s stately-looking ancestor. With a hand over her heart she thought of the child growing inside her and imagined the thread of life that joined this baby with generations of the proud Spanish family she married into.

  Then Carmen’s stern voice softened. “She loves you Alexander and would jeopardize her own well-being to give you a son. Or a daughter. It is the man who must take charge and make sure the woman is loved and supported.”

  Obviously affronted, Alex growled, “I would never let anything happen to Meghan. She’s everything, Carmen. Everything.”

  “Yes, well, it’s time to think outside that box you always speak of. The meesus doesn’t know what she needs, understand? Your bebé, yes? That is all she will think of. You must be ready to do anything. I mean this. Don’t look away,” she scolded. “Your mama expects me to say these things. She knows you better than anyone. That bebé is what you call a big deal. This is your responsibility as a man and a husband. You aren’t a papa yet. First you must see your wife through this challenging time. Meghan will pretend she has everything under control but you will know better.”

  “I understand,” Alex answered in a somber voice.

  She rarely heard Carmen refer to her informally. It’s just the way she was. Somehow the way she said her name filled Meghan with love for the surrogate parent who loved the Major as much as his own.

  “I know what my wife needs...” he was saying, but Carmen cut him off.

  “Madre de Dios! Are you not listening?”

  Meghan almost choked with laughter when she detected the sound of a hand smacking a certain alpha’s arm. He groused with a mumbled, “Hey,” and she had to bite her tongue to keep from snickering.

  “El imbécil! She does not know what she needs! The box, remember? Outside the box, Alexander.”

  “Okay, okay. God!” Her chastised husband growled. “I got it old woman. Cut a guy a break, would you?”

  “No. No I will not,” the housekeeper answered. “What is that thing my grandson says? Something about doing the deed, or in this case, planting the seed. Now you tend the garden to ensure a happy outcome.”

  They continued talking but moved away—toward the walkway to Carmen’s quarters. She waited unti
l the sound of the doors opened and closed before peeking into the kitchen. They were gone. Alex would of course see the lecturing woman to her door. He wouldn’t have it any other way because his mama taught him well. Alex’s manners were second nature and not an affectation in any way.

  Her kettle was starting to furiously bubble so she switched it off and reached for a teacup.

  Carmen’s hectoring had been revealing but she wasn’t surprised that her mother-in-law opened a can of whup-ass into the housekeeper’s lap with instructions to lay it on thick with Alex.

  Opening the deep drawer crammed with every imaginable tea under the sun, she chuckled when it occurred to her that Carmen had already removed anything with so much as a hint of caffeine. Sheesh. This baby carrying stuff was complicated.

  “Chamomile it is,” she murmured. Tea bag steeping, she felt an icky rumble in her stomach that was becoming a near constant companion. Was it nausea? She couldn’t say for sure. Maybe something she ate caused it. These things were mysteries and with that thought a thunderbolt of understanding hit. This is what Carmen meant by Meghan having no idea what she needed. This was all new. Uncharted territory. Both she and Alex needed to start thinking outside their normal box.

  “Shit.” She turned around and gripped the counter as a wave of queasiness crashed into her.

  Right on cue she felt Alex’s warmth envelope her as he materialized out of thin air and wrapped her in his arms from behind.

  “Easy, baby,” he murmured next to her ear. “Let’s get you in a chair.”

  He carefully turned her and put a finger under her chin. She knew all the color was gone from her face by the way he reacted when she clung to his gaze with her eyes.

  Her big, bad, commanding officer husband scooped her effortlessly into his capable arms and walked her to a nearby stool.

  “Your back,” she protested, but he only grunted.

  “My back is fine,” he assured her as she wiggled into place on one of the high stools at the island. “And so is my hip, thigh and ass, thank you very much.”

  She’d worked on him for more than an hour earlier in the day in a purely therapeutic massage. He was sitting too much in that damn tech lab and forgetting to stretch like she showed him.