Skipping lightly down the wide staircase, her dress swinging as she moved, it was all Meghan could do not to explode with contentment. She had a great life. A man who adored her. A growing family and a vision for the future that was really exciting.
Softly giggling as she smoothed some wayward curls, she had to admit that the off-the-hook lovemaking the Major lavished on her at every opportunity didn’t hurt. Why, just this morning he’d taken her so sweetly and tenderly that she cried after and clung to him while he held her tight, whispering lovingly until the demands of the day forced them to leave their bed.
But that wasn’t the only reason for the incandescent happiness lighting her up from the inside. Alex’s quirky solution for alleviating her growing concerns about their wedding being overshadowed by the circumstances and judgments of others was so damn cool and exciting, she was dancing on air.
Her mother had gifted her a stunning dress finished with vintage lace that was short with a flared skirt and a wide satin ribbon around the waist that jumped out of her closet earlier when she’d been looking for something. Almost shitting herself was the only way to describe how she reacted. It was perfect and exactly what she wanted for their private celebration.
Lost in her happy daydream, Meghan was ninety percent oblivious to anything going on around her when she bounced into the kitchen on feet barely touching the floor. Her happiness was so big, she wondered if she could contain it.
Pouring a glass of OJ, she‘d just taken a sip when she turned around and got a good look at what was going down in her kitchen. What the hell?
Parker and Angie were present but by the look of things, must not ever have been formally introduced because they were completely ignoring each other. A better description of the scene she stumbled on might be that a bent-out-of-shape lawyer was hunched over the island bar nursing a steaming cup of whatever while a lip-biting and discernibly uneasy Angie, stood to the side picking on a bowl of grapes, occasionally glancing Parker’s way.
Well, this looks like shittons of fun!
Three seconds after that wry observation, Alex came bustling into the kitchen with an armload of packages, a couple of which fell to the floor as he struggled to dump everything on the island.
Chuckling, he smirked at Meghan. “Honey, you keep this up and I’m going to have to hire that poor driver to be your personal delivery service.”
All Meghan could do was laugh. He was right, of course. During the months she’d been in Arizona where their location made a shopping excursion something of a long-distance slog, she’d become a champion at ordering. Her days of mall crawling, looking for whatever caught her eye, were now relegated to specially planned and executed occasions. With QVC and Amazon being her main bitches, she had that one-click thing down pat!
His eyes glowing with pleasure, Alex came around the island and kissed her quickly. “You look lovely,” he murmured.
Words? What words? Her smile said it all.
Snatching the glass of OJ right out of her hands, Alex tossed it back with a loud grunt then slammed the empty down. “Ahhhh, I needed that,” he kidded while she arched an eyebrow at him.
“Uh, one of those smaller packages has Ria’s name on it . . .”
“I’ve corrupted her, I’m afraid,” she snickered, interrupting whatever he was going to say. “Ben wanted a whatchamacallit-thingy for the garden and . . .”
Alex barked a laugh. “Whatchamacallit-thingy?”
God, he was adorable when he teased her. Reaching out, she grabbed his shirt and pulled him forward. “I want very much to tell you to shut it.” She grinned—thoroughly enjoying his eyes flaring at her obvious attempt to manipulate the no-no expression.
Did he even realize Angie and Parker were present, she wondered or was he simply ignoring the drama this morning? Frankly, she didn’t care. Those two would figure it out. Just like Cam and Lacey had. Just like Draegyn and Victoria, her and Alex, and hell, even Stephanie and Calder had, although that sitch was still a work in progress.
Following the direction of her gaze, he turned his head, first studying Parker’s impersonation of a mute as he sat nearby. The look he gave her was just short of an eye roll. Meghan choked off her laughter with a hurried cough.
Glancing the other way, he checked his sister out and this time he really did roll his eyes and shake his head. Kissing her quickly one more time, Alex leaned close and whispered, “Remember baby . . . just you and me. Fuck this shit, okay?”
She didn’t need reassurance. Not anymore. When Meghan explained how she felt, Alex hadn’t hesitated. Not for a second. He didn’t ask for more detail or try to talk her out of her concerns.
Was she glowing? Probably. That was how this man made her feel.
“I’m good,” she deadpanned with a pouty smirk right after eyeing the ominously restrained couple. Chuckling deeply, her Major helped himself to some of her ass. “Oh, and I found the perfect thing to wear.”
“It better be white,” he muttered. “Your mom’s right. You look angelic in white.” Then, quickly changing the subject, he sighed heavily. She couldn’t agree more. C’mon,” he nudged her shoulder, “Looks like it’s intervention time.”
Mentally reviewing the checklist of things he still needed to do, Alex made a quick note on his phone before pocketing it then hustled himself a mega mug of coffee. Satisfied that Meghan was okay with whatever the fuck it was that was going on around them, he felt a hundred times less stressed now that he’d included his fiancée in at least a portion of the special day he was planning for them.
It still cracked him up that she was so easily satisfied with what she imagined was nothing more than a picnic in the desert. Jesus, was she ever in for a shock. Only a couple more days and then she’d be his forever.
Truth? He was starting to get nervous. Not groom jitters. More like a guy trying to surprise and please his lady jitters. There was always the chance that he’d fuck shit up or had read her signals wrong.
No, uh-uh, wait a minute. Read her signals wrong? As if! He had this situation by the short hairs and as long as he didn’t let the cat out of the bag too soon, he was going to pull off the most epic, romantic, guy gesture of all time. Shame they had to keep it a secret.
Taking the stool next to Parker, Alex noticed that Meghan made no effort to engage Angie. Perhaps that was because his little sister looked like she was gearing up to admit to the crime of the century. What the hell had gone on between these two morons after he and Meghan went to their suite last night? Whatever it was, well. . . . it didn’t look good.
“Mission Control to jerkbag,” he murmured.
Nothing. Oh, great. Taking a healthy sip from his mug, he pushed a plate of glazed blueberry muffins toward his friend. Even Alex had to admit they looked delicious and with Parker’s inability to resist anything from the bakery, he felt sure a muffin would be a good icebreaker.
Still nothing. Really? Shit. Tempted to wave his hand in front of the guy’s face to see if he was conscious, Alex sent Meghan a look of bewilderment. She shrugged and sipped her beverage.
Well, this is just fan-fucking-tastic.
As the four of them lingered in silence, he wondered what the hell he was supposed to do. The uncomfortable gathering was on the verge of getting ugly when a phone rang. Comically, everyone reacted by reaching for their cell.
The call was for Angie and the instant she answered, Alex knew something was up. The immediate shift in her demeanor and a dramatic change in body language sent up a red flag that he noted but did not react to. Justice was known for offering top-notch surveillance. Being watchful was Duh 101 in the training manual.
Wondering whose call could affect so quick a change in his sister, his answer came swiftly when she caught his eye and gestured to the phone.
“It’s Soph. I’ve gotta take this but say hi.”
“Hey, Squirt,” Alex boomed as Angie held the phone up. “Love you. Miss you. Can’t wait to see . . .” he got out before she hastily fled th
e room.
Meghan snickered, then went back to fiddling with her iPad in a less-than-genuine way that told him she was actually paying close attention to every little thing. She would have made a great operative.
With Angie now out of the room, he swiveled toward Parker and punched him in the arm. “What the hell did you do?” he barked.
“Ow, you asshole. What the fuck was that for?”
Alex laughed. He had to. All of this was so bizarre. What the fuck was that for? Was he kidding? Actually, no he probably wasn’t. Upon closer look, it was apparent that Parker was distracted, bothered, and generally bent.
Changing his approach, he sat back and eyed his friend, saying, “You look like shit.” And he did. Like total shit. And not too much to drink shit. Or stressed at work shit. Or even feeling like shit. This kind of shit looked damn serious.
“Wanna talk about it?” he asked.
“No.” The answer was immediate, forceful, and tinged with something else. Unless he was mistaken, the man was sulking. Full on, kicking the dog brooding with a double dash of moody bastard thrown in.
Well, whadaya know? The great and mighty Parker Sullivan sent crashing to Earth by a bratty angel. Circle this date on the calendar!
“ARE YOU OKAY?”
Angie didn’t know if she was okay or not. Surely there had to be some suffering or impairment after the world tilted or, in this case, came to a jarring halt.
“Uhhh . . . sure.” Liar, liar, pants on fire.
Sophie grumbled, “Dad’s going to filet his miserable ass. This is so far over the line, he won’t have any choice.”
Oh no. Dad knew about this? Holy crap. All she could do was groan and drop her head into her hand.
“Sorry, Ang. I had to tell him. The story is about to go wide and he needed to know in case someone asks for a comment.”
“I know, sis. It’s fine. Really. Just a lot for me to take in, y’know?”
“Shit, Angie. I am soooo sorry.”
She chortled bitingly. “What do you have to be sorry for? It wasn’t you who knocked up some club circuit slut while engaged. To me. Ugh, god! How could I have been so blind?”
“Sweetie, don’t take this on yourself. You didn’t do anything. Aldo did. He played you dirty, Ang. No other way to put it. All signs point to him figuring you guys would have a modern arrangement which is arrogant asshole code for he wanted a wife to make him socially acceptable while he behaved like a privileged pig on the side.”
“Sniveling dumbass.”
“You’re taking this better than I thought. Does Parker have anything to do with that?”
A tiny flame, the one that never really went out, flashed inside her. Her heart smiled.
“We sang together on stage, Soph.” She was going to say more, but her sister’s sharp gasp left her speechless.
“Oh, baby . . .”
Was that the sound of tears edged with sniffling she heard coming from the phone?
“The heavens must be in perfect alignment!” Sophie exclaimed tearfully.
Her reaction warmed Angie. “We’re going to give it a try. See what happens,” she anxiously muttered. Saying it out loud to another person was a bit scary. Made it awfully real.
“I’m thrilled for you. I love Parker and you know the ‘rents on both sides are gonna go apeshit.”
“But it’s weird, huh?”
Sophie loosed her wonderful laugh. “It’s weird for two seconds and then there’s nothing but love, baby. In a way, I think maybe we’ve all been waiting to see if either of you was ever going to come to your senses. You freaked a lot of people out over the years, but now that it’s all coming out, you’re gonna find that you two being together is what everyone figured was your destiny all along. Think Mom and her hippie-dippy nonsense.”
Angie’s mind was whirling. She wanted to sit there and chatter away with her sister. Gush about Parker. Lose her shit over a boy. But that had to wait. First there was the Aldo mess to clean up.
“One last thing and then I’ll let you go. Is all of this why Aldo’s been trying to create a scene? Does he hope to deflect attention from a European scandal with an American one?”
She practically felt the warmth of Sophie’s breath as she heaved a deep sigh. “Bingo and here’s where I have to drop the final part of the bomb. It’s worse than you think. The girl is about to pop any day.”
“Excuse me?” The fine hairs on the back of Angie’s neck felt like spikes with exposed nerve endings. The math was pretty easy to do.
“Soooo, what you’re saying is, when I ended the engagement four months ago, she was already obviously pregnant?”
“Yes, and there’s more.”
She grimaced and snapped back, “Of course, there is. Just give it to me.”
“His folks brought the hammer down when they found out. Cut him off without a dime. The person I heard from says he talks incessantly about you. How if he could get you back, he’d be respectable again and his parents would back off. So he did some research after he found out you were with Alex. They think he decided to go to the States and convince you of whatever. But when things didn’t go as he imagined, Plan B went into action. Nothing like a nice juicy lawsuit, maybe some paparazzi nonsense to make headlines and line his pockets.”
Angie couldn’t believe how stupid this guy was. “Soph, can you even imagine how lucky he is to still be walking? He poked at all of us, nonstop. He actually punched Parker in the face!”
“Seriously? And Parker didn’t serve him up with a side of guacamole?”
“Actually, all the guys have been pretty restrained because they thought tiptoeing around him was better than a confrontation. It was me who got physical.”
“Did you smack him, I hope?”
“No, but wish I had. Parker held me back and Alex had Aldo by the scruff of the neck. If we’d been let at each other, I would have ripped his throat out.”
“Well, thank god Justice knows how to keep the calm. If any of them had gone off and assaulted him, Aldo was ready to sue the shit out of everyone. Clearly, you can see what an excellent and caring daddy he’s going to be. A great way to secure a future for his kid!”
They actually laughed. On some sick and twisted level, what she said was true.
“What are you going to do?”
Oh. Angie knew exactly what to do. No doubt about it.
“Yeah, I think it’s trash day.”
“Bwahahahahaaaaaa,” Sophie barked gleefully. “Don’t get your hands dirty and make sure you wear shit kicking shoes when you do it!”
“Put it on speaker,” Alex told Meghan when his phone chirped. She reached over and tapped the screen then went right back to what she was doing.
“You’re on speaker—go ahead.”
Parker recognized Ben’s voice immediately. “Uh, boss . . . we have a situation.”
Puzzled, Alex croaked directly into the phone. “Define situation.”
“Um, well, you see, Gus called me over to the garage.”
“Uh-huh,” Alex looked at Parker like what the fuck? “And . . .”
“Yeah, and uh, he had a vehicle request.”
“Oh, for god’s sake,” Alex muttered. “And why am I involved?” he asked with an edge of frustration in his tone.
“It’s Miss Angelina, boss. She wants to take out one of the SUV’s for the day.”
Parker froze. Meghan looked up.
“She going somewhere?” he asked.
“Gus says it didn’t seem like his place to pry, but that’s why he called me and that’s why I’m calling you. There’s no problem giving her any of the cars, but I figured you’d want to know she was on the move.”
“What the fuck is she up to?” he griped out loud. To Ben he said, “All right. Give her whatever she wants and maybe find out what’s going on, okay?”
“You got it, boss. Thanks.”
Parker didn’t know what to think. He was with Alex on this one. What the hell was she doing that she neede
d an SUV for the entire day? Half an hour ago she’d been in sweats lounging in the kitchen and now suddenly she’s behind the wheel and going god knows where.
The damn woman was hell on wheels. Now, what the fuck was she up to?
She sang Here Comes the Sun as she walked from the house deep into the compound to the big garage where all the vehicles, carts, scooters, ATVs, and general riding toys were kept. The song felt right for the beautiful sunny morning.
Stomping along, she had to congratulate herself on her outfit choice for the errand she was on. Going full Desert Angel, she put on an old pair of beat up black western boots and wiggled her butt into a wickedly slutty pair of cutoff denim shorts that had seen better days—like five years ago. One good washing and the fabric of the well-worn jeans might fall apart, which only made her love them even more.
A plain white tank top under an ancient flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled back was innocent enough until a closer look revealed she was braless. Aware that her boobs were bouncing as she walked only made her gurgle with laughter.
Jiggle away, girls, she thought gleefully.
When she was growing, this was her daily uniform. Parker would love it, but she knew her appearance was going to send a statement Ronaldo wasn’t likely to forget.
Rounding a corner of the large garage, she stepped into the side parking area and went in search of Gus. She’d asked for an SUV instead of a sedan because she wanted as much room between her and that slimy bastard as possible and remembering how annoyed Parker had been that she was separated from him when they’d drive in his big SUV, the choice seemed logical.
“Hiya Gus,” she tittered when she caught sight of the older gentleman who managed the entire Justice fleet of moving objects. “Whatcha got for me?”
Approaching the kindly gray-haired man who was smiling warmly at her, she saw Ben was also there. Angie loved Ben. He was a piece of work—same for his wife Ria—but he was the loyal, dependable right-hand that her brother counted on. And his presence meant that her activities this fine morning were not flying under the radar.
Desert Angel (Family Justice Book 2) Page 46