Redeeming Justice (26 page)

“We’ve got his,” he sneered. Brody sensed the warning in his tone and wisely drifted
away.

“That wasn’t very nice,” she chuckled.

“Yeah, well, I don’t fucking care. Especially not since I can smell my scent coming
off your sweet body, Meghan. I don’t share.
Ever
.”

She beamed at him like he’d just gotten down on one knee and proposed. For the thousandth
time in a few short days he thought,
Women! Go figure.

It was hangover central the next morning at the Villa. Even Carmen seemed a bit rough
around the edges.

Meghan’s hangover was from a combination of alcohol and carnal excess. She was accustomed
to drinking the boilermakers. But the sexual indulgence and orgasms? Not so much.

Once they’d returned to the Villa last night and made sure everyone else got where
they needed to go in one piece, Alex had walked her to the door of her room but no
further. Navigating the unfamiliar territory in which they found themselves was making
them both hesitate.

She was confused. Maybe he was too. Was it just sex? Hot, dirty sex at that. Or were
they taking baby steps into a real relationship? It was hard to know.

Instead of kissing her goodnight, he’d done that gentlemanly thing he was so damn
good at and taken her hand in his, pressed it to his chest for a moment, then left
a sweet kiss on her knuckles before turning it over and licking her palm thereby guaranteeing
that he’d left her scattered and breathing heavily.

“Goodnight sweet lady,” he’d murmured.

“Don’t you want to come in?” she’d asked breathlessly.

He smiled that wicked smile that turned her insides to jelly but made no effort to
take her up on the obvious offer.

“Yes,” he’d said boldly. “
In
is exactly where I’d like to be.” The innuendo wasn’t lost on her. “But unless you
want me to drop you to the floor right here and fuck you till standing or walking
was no longer an option, I think we’d better just say goodnight. Oh, and by the way.”
He pulled something from his back pocket, which she quickly identified as the panties
he’d torn off her the day before. “I found these on the floor of my truck. Considered
hanging them from the rearview mirror but they’re pretty much ripped to shreds.”

“Oh goody,” she’d giggled. “A souvenir.”

And now here it was the following morning, and she didn’t quite know what to do with
herself. Another riding lesson was out since everyone seemed to be hanging by a thread
so maybe doing nothing was looking like her best bet.

Craving the sunshine, she took advantage of the pool, swimming a handful of laps to
loosen up then plunked down on a comfortable lounger for a spell. The heat from the
sun warmed her skin. It was delicious. Just what her Boston-bred soul needed. She
didn’t really miss her hometown. Her family, yes. The weather there,
meh
. Meghan really did feel like her visit to the southwest opened up possibilities that
a year ago she would never had entertained.

She was surprised when after a bit she felt a cold, wet nose nudge her leg. Opening
her eyes she found Zeus standing by the lounger, tongue hanging out and a goofy dog
expression on her face. Looking about, she expected to see Alex somewhere in the vicinity,
but he never materialized.

“Where’s daddy?” she asked, scratching the dogs head and kissing her on the snout.

Zeus’s response was a wet lick and a raised paw as she basked under the attentive
strokes. Apparently she was on her own this morning, much to Meghan’s disappointment.
Hmm. He was probably working in the bat cave
, she concluded, and went back to her early morning sun worshipping. Soon it would
be too hot for her pale skin so she had to take advantage of the early rays while
she could.

Not too long after that Tori appeared near the cabana and called out, “Hey! Irish.
Time to get your ass out of the sun unless you want to look like a tomato later. Grab
your stuff and come on inside. A package was just delivered for you.”

A package? What in the world was that all about? Well, she better go and see, so Meghan
gathered her big sun hat and flip flops, slid on a cute cover-up, and headed back
to the house – patting her leg in command so Zeus would follow.

When she stepped into the kitchen, there was the usual bustle of activity. Alex had
been so right about the space being the heart of his home. Carmen was there along
with Gus who looked awfully smitten with the feisty housekeeper. Betty was there too
– grabbing a jug of cold drinks from the fridge and the whole crew along with Tori
were talking over each other as several conversations seemed to be going on at once.

The minute she appeared, Tori jumped off the stool she’d been sitting on and grabbed
something from the counter.

“FedEx delivered this for you,” she told her handing over a long box that looked big
enough to hold a fishing rod.

“I didn’t order anything,” Meghan mumbled, confused. Intrigued, she checked the delivery
label and sure enough – it was addressed to her.
Hmmmm.

Ripping open the packaging as everyone gathered around, she found a shipping document
that indicated whatever was in the box was a gift but no other details were available
except for a short notation in the message box.

It read:
Parasol / ‘par e sôl / noun / A light umbrella to give shade from the sun.
She almost choked with delight.

Reaching into the box she pulled out a fantastic antique lace parasol with a wooden
handle that was exactly what she would have ordered had she seen it herself. It was
charming, feminine, and really, really pretty.

“What is that?” Carmen asked. “An umbrella? What do you need an umbrella for in the
middle of the desert?”

Meghan grinned so wide her face almost hurt. “It’s called a parasol, actually. An
umbrella, but not. Think of it more like protection from the sun rather than from
falling raindrops.”

She caught Tori’s eye, who was nodding with a smug expression on her face and looking
at her like she’d just pulled the Hope Diamond from the box.

Alex. The Major. Mister Thunder. Meghan was bursting with delight.

“Where is he?” she asked Tori.

“Ah, yes. About that. He’s off the radar today.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

Tori looked like she was considering what to say next. At the question, everyone else
in the vicinity melted away. What the hell?

“He’s having a bad day, Irish.”

Meghan stiffened trying to read between the lines and failed miserably. “C’mon Mrs.
St. John. I’m a teacher for Christ’s sake. Don’t play the dog ate my homework word
games with me.”

Tori laughed. “I like you, lady!” she trilled. “No pussyfooting around. You’re good
for him.”

“Uh huh. Whatever. Now answer the damn question.”

“Around here,
bad day
is a euphemism for he’s probably doubled over in pain and hiding away in a darkened
room until it passes. He hates bringing attention to himself that way so we’ve all
learned to talk in code.”

The other woman was watching her intently, gauging how she would react to this news.
Her protective manner warmed Meghan’s heart. Not only did good people who genuinely
cared about him surround Alex, Tori’s instincts drove home what a fantastic mother
she would be.

“On a scale of one to ten, how unmanageable is he when this happens?” she inquired
as her brain started working overtime on how she could help.

“This one is off the scale, I’m afraid. Personally, I think he should eat some pain
pills and sleep if off but he refuses. Between you and me – it’s a combination of
powering through and the belief that his physical issues are some sort of penance.
Catch my meaning?”

“Understood,” Meghan answered as she turned to leave. Grabbing her cell phone at the
last second she added, “Give me your digits so I can text you if help is needed.”

Alex was in agony. Dark, searing agony. Pain like he hadn’t experienced in a long
time was wracking his body and battering his soul. Up half the night, he wondered
a few times if he was gonna make it – it was that bad.

It did not take a room full of doctors and therapists to tell him what was wrong.
It had been ages since he’d put his leg through the hell of a drum session that went
on far longer than he could realistically handle. Last night it had been a question
of getting through it. In the harsh light of day, he had a whole different outlook.

His back, hip, and leg were in full on spasm. As a result his head was thumping out
of control and his unaffected side was tight as could be from overcompensating for
the injured half. In short – he could barely move.
Balls.

It had been worth it even though at the time he’d been a complete douche about playing
with his old band. Watching Meghan party her glorious ass off on the dance floor had
been pure heaven. That woman knew how to shimmy and shake like a pro. He supposed
it was the gym teacher in her soul. She loved being active, that much was clear.

And then there was what happened after. All through the long, painful night, there
had been the memories of her sucking on his dick and the incredible sensation of her
hot, wet cunt squeezing the fucking come out of him that helped him manage his torment.

But it was late morning now and instead of backing off, his suffering only seemed
to be getting worse. Last night his foot had gone numb. Today it felt like someone
was sticking needles in it while hot pokers jabbed him all along his left side.

Wearing nothing but the smallest briefs he had, Alex was slumped in a big easy chair
as sweat covered him like a second skin. It hurt to have anything on his body, touching
his enflamed scars, and in another minute or so he was going to chuck the briefs too.
Anything to find even a second of relief.

His phone buzzed alerting him to an incoming message. Thankful for the distraction
he opened the text box and stopped dead.

Warning, Will Robinson. I’m coming in.

What the fuck? Five seconds later he looked up and found Meghan standing by the doorway
with a cool, assessing expression on her face.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he grumbled.

“Says you and what army? Shut up Major and let me have a good look at you.”

“Seriously Meghan, get the fuck out of here. You don’t know. You just don’t know.”

She snorted at his comment and moved deeper into his room. “Let me take this moment
to remind your sorry ass that this is what I’m trained for.”

He felt like she was giving him an eyeball MRI. Talk about an odd feeling. She looked
him over, head to toe, and if he wasn’t mistaken she zeroed in, time and again, on
all the trouble spots.

“You look like shit, baby,” she husked.

God.
He loved it when she called him baby. For a big, burly dude, he had a marshmallow
core when it came to this woman.

Sighing, he scraped his hands along his skull, tugging at his hair. “Yeah. And I feel
like shit too.”

Why was it that just when he felt like nothing could surprise him she went and did
just that, surprised him. She knelt down at his feet facing him on his good side and
put her palm upon his thigh. It was an innocent move but seeing Meghan on her knees
and the way she was looking at him, ramped up every dominant impulse in his pain wracked
body. Did she know how provocative her choice of positions was?

“I can help but you have to trust me, Alex.”

“Unless you have a magic wand, I’m not sure what anyone could possibly do. It’s just
a matter of riding it out until the pain passes.” His voice didn’t sound all that
convincing, even to him.

“Well, it’s your lucky day,
really
.” Pulling out her cell phone she tapped on the screen and rose to her feet. “I’m
a licensed massage therapist and as it happens, I have a brand new portable therapy
table in my car that I picked up in L.A. It would be my pleasure to break it in by
working on you.”