Enduring (Family Justice Book 8)

by Suzanne Halliday

  The dancers grabbed audience members, and before long, the whole room was laughing and dancing along. It was the perfect end to a perfect show.

  Chapter 17

  Remy slammed the empty shot glass on the bar and raised both arms in triumph. Kelly lagged a second or two behind with Tori and Meghan in a tie for third.

  The Macallan coated her tongue, leaving a burning trail of whiskey fire in her throat and belly. Deep inside, she felt a chuckle building and gave a little start. This sort of activity didn’t generally have a laughter track.

  But then again, she’d never gotten shit-faced with a bunch of ass kicking females before, so this was definitely a first and maybe that was enough to alter the dynamic in her head.

  “Shit, Remy,” Heather declared while thumping her between the shoulder blades, “you didn’t say you could Marion Ravenwood us to our knees!”

  She snickered, followed it up with a loud snort, and then shrugged off the comment. “Everyone has hidden talents.”

  Murmurs of, “Word,” and, “Truth,” accompanied a group fist bump.

  Reaching for another bottle of Finn’s private reserve, she caught him smirking at her and shaking his head. She smiled, gave him the finger, and poured another round.

  Barry approached wearing his usual amused grin and dropped an enormous platter of hot wings on the bar in front of them.

  “Ladies,” he charmingly drawled. “Fat free bleu cheese dressing as requested although don’t tell my partner that. He has strong opinions about how his food is presented.”

  Lacey inspected the platter with her arms crossed and a dubious frown. “Is the celery organic?”

  It was amusing as shit to watch the blonde lay it on thick—especially when it was so hard to tell if she was serious or not. Angie squawked with laughter, grabbed her pregnant belly, and nearly toppled off the barstool. Actually, everyone laughed. Even Domineau.

  Meghan let Barry off the hook when Lacey’s question registered as alarm on his face. Remy enjoyed the Justice ladies team spirit.

  “She’s joking, Barry. We all know my brother is a cheapskate who isn’t going to pay for organic anything.”

  “I heard that,” Finn hollered from the other end of the long bar.

  Brother and sister stuck their tongues out, made rude finger gestures, and brought their signature sibling mayhem while the platter of wings was devoured.

  Domineau lofted a sauce-covered wing and saluted Finn. “Well done, Beantown.”

  His happy, grinning reaction was so … Finn.

  Remy smiled and tried to hide behind her hair, but Kelly gave her so much shit, she ended up roaring with whiskey-fueled laughter.

  “Don’t try to be sly, Remington,” she teased. “We all know you’ve got the hots for the ginger-infused chef. You’re not fooling anyone, ya know.”

  “Fuck my life.” She giggle snorted. The sound and reaction were so unfamiliar that she covered her mouth from embarrassment and realized that she’d better slow down her alcohol consumption if she didn’t want to end up acting like a fool.

  Calder came toward them with Stephanie in his arms. Had she twisted her ankle or something?

  Possibly half-stoned or on the way to being drunk, Calder slid his wife onto a barstool and fussed over her until she smacked his hands away.

  “What the hell?” Sophie sniggered in her drier than dust way.

  Stephanie did her Southern belle act and twanged a snippy explanation. “My oversexed husband has some ridiculous idea that I should conserve my energy. For later,” she told then with a wink-wink.

  The entire group of women froze. Was he referring to the energetic and epically exaggerated display of raunchiness they were set to unleash, or was he just being a guy?

  Calder Dane’s good-natured and indulgent chuckle made his wife smile and overrode the ladies’ reaction. He didn’t explain or make a funny. He simply wrapped a hand around Stephanie’s neck and held her in place for a surprisingly over-the-top kiss that didn’t leave much to the imagination.

  When he’d made his point and released her, Stephanie was the color of a stop sign and had to wipe the corners of her mouth. Was it weird that all the women sighed?

  A loud roar of manly laughter caught Remy’s attention. She looked at the guys crowded around Caleb Merrill and wondered what they were talking about.

  “Oh, dear.” Charlize Wilde chuckled. “That laughter has a Formula One tone. Dollars to donuts my man is doing his race car driver shtick.”

  Everyone turned in unison and stared at the men.

  It was Victoria who brought the house down with just one comment. “When do they pull out the tape measures?”

  Remy thought Meghan and Sophie might laugh themselves to death. Same for Kelly and Heather, who fell on each other with gales of laughter.

  Lacey giggled and shook her head. “You don’t really think they do that, do you?”

  “You mean measure their wangs?” Angie delivered this line as though the subject matter was perfectly reasonable.

  Domineau unsuccessfully choked off a spit-laugh that ended up spewing into the air.

  Eyeballing Finn, Remy took a telling detour in her imagination—wondering how the sexy Irishman stacked up and where he ranked. Had she contemplated this question on more than a few occasions during the time they’d been sharing a bed? Yes, she had.

  Shifting on the stool, she crossed her legs and squeezed her thighs together hoping to quell the surge of arousal that wouldn’t be denied. Did she also all but melt down every time he was in the shower? Yes. That too. Apparently imagining Finn O’Brien naked was becoming a habit.

  Tori rubbed Lacey’s shoulders. “Sorry, sweetie, but yeah. I think each one of our alpha hotties comes with a number tag.”

  “Well, I don’t like that,” the blonde grumbled.

  Meghan chimed in. “I don’t think my bottom would survive asking for a statistical check.”

  “I measured Roman,” Kelly told them with deadpan seriousness.

  Domineau grunted before cackling with laughter. “And?”

  “Pulled the tape measure away, slid my fingers to a spot I knew would infuriate him and gave him a pitying smirk. Mr. Bishop did not take kindly to the number four.”

  Hoots of laughter rang out while Domineau climbed up on her barstool, somehow managed to balance, and pointed at Roman, shouting, “Twig and berries!”

  The men turned and gawked while she kept up her ribbing.

  Holding up her fingers, she dramatically counted to four in several different languages and audaciously mocked her old friend. After a minute of this, a squirt of mustard shot through the air as Roman aimed, squeezed, and landed a direct hit to the middle of Domineau’s chest.

  That was when the Amazon Warrior who saved Remy’s sanity jumped and crowd surfed into the center of the men’s group to start wrestling Kelly’s muscled fiancé.

  A hand slid under Remy’s ass and made her jump with fright. Before she could turn her head, Finn bit her neck and growled in her ear. “You look so fucking hot.”

  The way he kept touching her was messing with all attempts to act composed. From the second she slid the skirt on, Remy knew she was making a statement that Finn would notice and react to. Right this moment, though, she wasn’t sure if either of them qualified as drunk and couldn’t be entirely certain she wasn’t imagining everything. Both those things mattered.

  “No. Not nearly as drunk as I want to be,” he assured her in a deep, sensual voice that sent ripples of awareness into every corner of her being.

  “Are you a mind reader, or did I say that out loud?”

  He grinned and reached around her to pour two shots. Having confessed a little of her drink-’em-under-the-table-for-dollars past to Finn, his dad, even Domineau, and Jace, she realized as the list tumbled from her brain that, in actuality, she’d been revealing this uncomfortable facet of her past to anyone and everyone.

  She’d done a lot of fucked-up shit after being violated and l
eft for the trash. It wasn’t easy to let go of regret. Finn’s simple act of pouring the shot was his way of telling her it was okay. She was okay. They were okay. And that it wasn’t a bad thing to enjoy herself.

  They tapped shot glasses and downed the whiskey—both of them grinning when they slammed the empty glass.

  To say she was shocked when he stepped into her body space was an understatement. When he leaned close and ran a finger from the base of her throat to the valley between her breasts, Remy didn’t know what to do.

  “I have a confession,” he murmured.

  His warm breath on her face and in her ear was deliciously sexy. She moved just a fraction so their lips hovered mere inches apart.

  “I’m listening.”

  He continued touching her chest and playing with the necklace dangling on a long chain between her boobs.

  “Had to get something from the store room. Stumbled upon a not-so-hidden clothes rack.”

  She watched his eyes sparkle and tried to understand what he was saying.

  “Which color are you wearing? Please tell me it’s the white costume. With your hair and some nasty red lipstick, you’d look devastating.”

  Oh, crap. He saw their costumes? Remy glanced about nervously. Finn ruining the surprise wouldn’t score her any brownie points.

  He bent close and licked her ear. “Relax, babe. Your secret is safe with me.”

  She grabbed his shirt and pulled. “Promise? I don’t want to have to hurt you, Beantown.”

  In the next second, he became serious as a heart attack.

  “You don’t ever have to worry, Remington. I know what tonight is costing you,” he softly murmured. “I’m in your corner, and honey, for real, I’m proud of you.”

  A swift, unexpected admission made him offer a hug. “I’m terrified.”

  “I know,” he whispered.

  They separated, but he remained in her body space. “Lacey is going first. Are you ready? Can I get you anything?”

  “This one’s easy. All eyes will be on Cam’s Ponytail. Except for Rafe. His eyes will be on Domineau. I’m just the piano player.”

  “Piano player,” he scoffed with mocking sarcasm. “Yeah, right.”

  A bald giant marched up to the bar with a wiggling Domineau slung over his shoulder. He smacked her butt and dropped her onto her feet. When he grabbed a bar towel and wiped the splotch on the front of her shirt, Remy and Finn laughed at Rafe’s obvious boob fondle.

  Every person watching this little scene either gasped or catcalled when Domineau calmly unbuttoned her blouse and took it off. She wadded it into a ball and hurled it at the back of Roman’s head. Then she hoisted herself onto the bar and reached across and under to retrieve a Pete’s T-shirt from the stack Barry kept handy.

  The guys applauded as she made a show of shaking out the folded shirt and slowly put it on. Rafe, for his part, tried to block the view and ended up snarling like the Incredible Hulk at the male audience.

  Finn sniggered. “I think you’d better hurry Lacey along. Things are going to get weird soon.”

  She agreed with an eyeroll. “Thanks for the piano rental, by the way. An electronic keyboard just wasn’t going to cut it. Not for a live performance.”

  He fingered a lock of her hair. “Anything for my lady.”

  They mutely stared into each other’s eyes until she blinked and looked away. But not before dropping a compliment she hoped he enjoyed.

  “And you’re boyfriend of the year, Finn O’Brien.”

  His grin gave her courage.

  “I call dibs on the last of the spareribs.”

  Heather and Brody, still in their Dirty Dancing getups, were boldly canoodling and completely ignoring everyone while Finn’s workers finished setting the stage.

  Until Parker claimed what was left of a Whiskey Pete’s favorite, Smoky Spareribs. The ones slathered with a secret sauce recipe that Finn guarded like the crown jewels.

  “I don’t think so,” Brody exclaimed.

  Angie looked at Heather. They both shrugged. When it came to men fighting over meat products, there really wasn’t any other reaction.

  Heather slid off Brody’s lap and stood as he and Parker lunged at the tray of ribs.

  Alex sniggered. “Did you know Parker once flirted with vegetarianism?”

  She smirked at her brother’s question. “Yeah, I remember. Lasted five minutes. Until Uncle Matt turned him back to the dark side and taught him his grill master ways.”

  Sophie said, “I remember that! Oh, how funny.” She excitedly explained to Jace. “Parker was 4-H. We all were. Do you know what that is?”

  Some things were universal. Jace responded. “Agriculture club, right? There are similar programs all around the world. Why is it important?”

  “It’s important”—Sophie simpered—“because ole Parker lost his shit in spectacular fashion after a lesson in animal husbandry. If I recall correctly, he hurled into a trash can. Am I right?” she asked Alex.

  “You tell the story wrong. As usual,” Parker grumbled to her grinning brother and sister. “It was food poisoning. I wasn’t squeamish.”

  Angie bit back a laugh when Alex answered the verbal challenge. “Is that why you cried over what happens to chickens? Because of food poisoning?”

  Finn laughed a bit too loud and earned an immediate dark scowl from her snarling husband. To Angie’s astonishment, the Irishman instantly backed down and even gestured his surrender. Unless she was mistaken, Parker had something on Meghan’s little brother.

  Hmm. Interesting.

  Their entire group looked up and went silent when Cam stomped up to them and took a belligerent posture. Angie’s eyes swept left to right. Everyone had a teenager in detention expression. Even her.

  She gulped. What the hell made his scowl so ferocious?

  “If even one of you fuckers has a dirty thought, I will use you for batting practice. Understand?”

  Draegyn laughed first and raised his hand. “Call on me,” he quipped.

  Angie heard Alex’s soft chuckle and figured everything was all right—despite Cam’s menacing behavior.

  Drae kept going. “Should I tell you if my thoughts get dirty? Or draw a picture?” Tori shoved her husband with her shoulder and told him to behave.

  Rafe stood and flexed his ridiculous muscles. “Don’t worry, Popeye. If anyone looks sideways at your girl, I’ll pound ’em into the floor.”

  Roman groaned. “Jesus. The last thing we need is you two going at it. Sit down and shut up,” he snarled. “Showtime, people.”

  Angie giggled and wrapped around Parker’s thick arm. She didn’t know what Lacey had planned, but it involved Domineau, Remy, a piano, and a dancer’s pole. If this was what she thought, there wasn’t much wonder in why Cameron was acting possessive and territorial. He shouldn’t worry, though. Lacey took pole gymnastics took a level beyond eleven. She was beauty in motion, and every single one of the ladies envied her skill.

  Meghan shushed them all and motioned to Finn, who stepped onto the stage. He took a microphone off its stand and walked the lip of the stage while he talked.

  “I know what you’re all thinking,” he said with his usual disarming smile. “How much does it cost to close down Pete’s for a private party.”

  Alex yelled out that his brother-in-law was a money-grubbing son-of-a-bitch—a comment met with agreeing nods and mild applause.

  “There’s a published fee,” he continued, “and then there’s the Justice modifier.”

  “Family discount?” Jace yelled.

  Calder laughed loudest and got there first with a reply. “More like family price gouge, right Finn?”

  Finn’s arrogant grin was pure gold. “Don’t think of it as a gouge. Think of it as a surcharge. Thousand dollars an hour.”

  “Plus food and drinks,” Meghan countered.

  Parker took her hand, lifted it for a kiss, and chuckled at the banter. Princess Sullivan decided this was a good time to wake up and joi
n the party. Rubbing her tummy, she murmured, “I’m pretty sure your daughter will be a troublemaker.”

  “Why do you think that?” he asked.

  “Because she tends to get active when the snark begins. I think she likes it.”

  “So here’s the deal,” Finn explained. “After some arm wringing and a technical assist, Pete’s is now outfitted with a removable dance pole.”

  He took the audience on a tour of the modifications this equipment called for.

  “Oh”—Brody chuckled—“I get it now. This is why people thought Pete’s is gearing up for pole dancing.”

  Cam shot to his feet and glared at them. “It’s not pole dancing. Understand?”

  “Touchy, touchy,” Parker jested.

  “Be nice,” Alex grumbled. “Enough talking, Finn. The more they talk, the higher the likelihood that punches will be thrown.”

  “Get on with it, you spotlight hog,” Domineau hollered from the shadows. “Nobody cares about your tiny dick problems.”

  “That’s my girl!” Rafe proudly declared. “Filthy mouth and all.”

  “On that note,” Finn drawled, “let’s turn the fuckery spigot on and see where we end up.”

  He put the microphone back on the stand and waved the first act to the stage.

  “Performing “Glitter in the Air,” for the first and probably last time, give it up for Remy, Domineau and the incredibly impressive Mrs. Jason Cameron.”

  Angie gasped with surprise when Lacey appeared in a very sexy black leotard that covered her from shoulders to ankles. Swirling designs in glimmering gold accented her fantastic figure. Her hair was swept out of the way into a halo of blond that shimmered in the stage light. She walked up to the pole and grasped it with one hand.

  As Remy’s haunting piano filled the room, Domineau’s smoky voice started softly.

  At first, Lacey stood still. Then she gracefully walked in slow circles, building the anticipation. Angie held her breath. When Domineau sang about a fistful of glitter in the air, Lacey flipped and twirled as her long, lithe body outlined in sparkling gold swung into a mesmerizing routine that rendered everyone speechless.