Redeeming Justice (46 page)

Meghan saw from the corner of her eye how her dad helped himself to a good handful
of her mother’s backside just before he turned to fix her with a shrewd and assessing
gaze.

“You look better Meggie,” he said. Lowering onto the bench next to her, he leaned
in for a father daughter smooch then grabbed onto her hand. “How’re you feeling baby
girl?”

Meghan smiled into her father’s kind eyes. Patrick O’Brien was her hero. She couldn’t
imagine a better father. Only she had the ability to wheedle her way around his sometimes
gruff exterior with ease, but she supposed that would be true of most fathers where
their little girls were concerned. Her only Daddy issues were that she knew what it
was like to be loved unconditionally.

Suddenly she recalled how as a young girl playing make believe with her dolls and
with romance and weddings filling her foolish head she’d dreamed of finding a boy
who would be the equal to her handsome, charming father. Only such a person would
deserve her love.

It didn’t take but a split second to slot her hunky Major into that role. They were
both good men. Loyal, hard-working, intense. Her parents made a fetching couple. Maggie’s
green eyes, Marilyn Monroe curves and wicked laugh blended well with her dad’s dashing
good looks complete with a set of dimples that softened his otherwise serious expression
plus he had the brawny build of a seasoned police officer. None of that description
was all that dissimilar to how she and Alex must appear. The thought rattled her cage
a tiny bit.

“Cat got your tongue?” he teased when Meghan didn’t answer straight away.

She blushed and shook her head. “Sorry Dad. I was just thinking about how much I love
you guys. And to answer your question, yes, I do feel better. Nothing like one of
Ma’s wicked scones and a trough of coffee to bring a person back from the dead.”

“I’m glad you’re back to your old self,” he chuckled. “I hear you threatened the unholy
trinity with dire consequences if they fucked with your mysterious boyfriend. Where’d
you get such a naughty mouth I wonder,
hmm
?”

“Oh gee, Da. Let me think a moment.” Meghan giggled because it was well known that
her dad had a black belt in swearing.

“Well, be that as it may, your mother tells me that you’ve gone and fallen for this
man but that he pretty much needs a serious talking to where you’re concerned. Is
that true?”

Was it true? Her mother had been right when she said that her overprotective family
came along in the deal and that whoever earned her heart was going to have to accept
that. She tried to imagine a conversation between Paddy O’Brien and Alex Marquez.
They’d probably argue over their tastes in whiskey but beside that they were fairly
well-matched.

Scooting closer to lay her head on her father’s comforting shoulder, Meghan sighed.
“Oh, Da. I don’t know if a talking to will help much.”

A long moment of silence passed that she was sure had her parents sharing meaningful
looks back and forth.

Drawing her into a mighty hug, her father’s love and strength felt like the best balm
of all.

“I think what you need Meggie girl is a neighborhood stroll with your dad. We’ll walk
and talk like we did when you were a little girl. How’s that sound?”

Walk and talk with her dad. Just the two of them. God, could he be any more perfect?

“Let me get dressed, okay?”

And so off they went, father and daughter, making the rounds through the south Boston
neighborhood where Meghan grew up. They walked and talked for a long time with her
dad asking the occasional question while she rambled on endlessly about her trip to
Arizona and the man who was turning her life upside down.

She told her dad everything she could about the compound and the numbers of Veterans
the agency helped. With an overabundance of enthusiasm she went on and on about the
interesting cast of characters who comprised Family Justice and giggled like a schoolgirl
about her horseback riding lessons and how she’d even tried her hand a time or two
at target shooting. It felt good to let all of it out.

At her dad’s insistence they stopped at an old-time ice cream parlor near their home,
taking a seat at an outdoor table where they could people watch and continue their
conversation. It was just about the best way she could imagine to spend an afternoon.

“Still a vanilla girl, I see,” her dad chuckled as he watched her inhale a huge dish
of plain ice cream. “You never were one for all the extras although I remember a time
when Finn tried his damnedest to convince you that mint chocolate chip dripping with
syrup would make you smarter.”

“Once an idiot, always an idiot,” Meghan snarked between mouthfuls of the cold, creamy
treat. “Remember the time he played ‘close your eyes and open your mouth’ and I was
dumb enough to do what he said?”

Her dad barked a laugh, his eyes twinkling with merriment. “You screamed and cried
like the world was ending when he stuck a fluffy dandelion cluster on your tongue.”

“Shithead,” she mumbled. Arching an eyebrow and trying to look like she meant business,
Meghan’s sardonic side appeared. “Fool me once, you know?”

Patrick O’Brien took a long time licking a spoonful of ice cream before he reacted
to her words.

“I certainly hope you learned to be more discriminating about what you put on that
sharp tongue of yours and to not be so eager to do as told.”

The comment, rich with innuendo, made her all but choke on the ice cream.

“Aw, come on. Really? What is it with you and Ma these days? She’s talking to me about
sex toys and you’re …well, jeez Da. I don’t even know how to decipher what you just
said.”

He laughed at her reaction and waggled his brows. “Your ma was going on and on about
those damn Kegel Balls, I’m guessing. You have Aunt Heather to thank for that.”

Meghan groaned and pretended to smack her head on the table. “You guys are killing
me.”

And with that, the kidding around came to an end and her father got serious as a heart
attack.

“Meggie, darling, you’ve always been in charge of yourself, a trait that has served
you well as you’ve grown into an amazing woman. Your mother and I couldn’t be more
proud. The way you’ve handled everything – David dying, going after a career, even
how you dealt with all that lottery money. You’re a credit to the O’Brien name.”

Putting her spoon down, she offered her dad a watery smile edged with the tears his
praise summoned. “Thanks, Dad. It means a lot to hear that from you.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” he added a moment later when he sat back and
stared at her. “The way you talk about your time in the southwest is pretty telling
baby girl. Why don’t we stop dancing around what’s not being said and get down to
business?”

Here it comes
, she thought. The parental lecture. There was no way her dad, with his protective
instincts, was going to sit idly by while a man he didn’t know and had never even
met turned his daughter’s world inside out.

Prepared for some heavy words of wisdom she was completely shocked when he started
talking but didn’t come close to saying what she expected.

“It’s clear from everything you’ve told me that this Major of yours is quite a guy.
So why in the hell are you sleeping in your childhood bedroom and making yourself
all kinds of sick while this paragon of virtue sits alone a couple of thousand miles
away? If he’s what you want Meggie, it’s up to you to do something about the distance.”

She hoped her face wouldn’t freeze forever with the look of absolute wonder and dumbfounded
surprise she felt. Was her dad basically telling her to buck the hell up and go claim
the man who had sent her away? How exactly does one do that, she wondered.

“Let me tell you something about love, daughter. It’s rarely easy, always a challenge,
and sometimes messy as hell. I hear what you’ve said about why you left. Survivor’s
guilt is a heavy burden. The fact that your Major feels it so deeply makes me like
him even more. It means he has a moral center. What more could a parent hope for when
it comes to the man who steals a daughter’s heart?”

“Oh, Da,” Meghan murmured.

“Straight up baby girl. Don’t listen to any of the romantic crap your ma is dishing
out these days – especially if her advice was to stand your ground and make him come
to you. From a male viewpoint, that’s asking for trouble. Men rarely if ever see the
forest for the trees where a woman is concerned.”

“What are you saying, Dad?”

Her father gave her a look of such love and caring that Meghan almost burst out crying.

“I’m not saying you should jump on a plane and fly halfway across the damn continent
but maybe a simple phone call would be a good idea. No communication is the devil’s
handiwork, Meggie. You’ll never know if you don’t at least try.”

Biting her lip, she looked away and tried to wrap her mind around what he was saying.
Her gaze returned to his when he reached across the small table and took her hands
in his.

“Tell me what you’re thinking, child. Maybe I can help.”

“He’s not in Arizona, Dad,” she blurted out, eager to tell her father everything.

“Where is he then?” he asked gently. She wondered if he could sense her conflict.

“Well….uh. Actually he’s here. On the East Coast. Down in D.C. to be exact.”

She watched, fascinated, as her big, handsome father tried to stifle what looked like
an impending laugh. “He’s followed you here, then?”

Shrugging, Meghan held on tighter to her father’s hand. “I don’t know, did he?”

“What’s your heart tell you Meggie girl?”

Ever since Tori’s phone call when she let her know that Alex was travelling east,
Meghan had been clinging to the hope that this was his way of inching closer.

Her father must have read her thoughts because he squeezed her hands before letting
go and sitting back.

“I get to say this because as a male of the species I know with certainty that when
it comes to the women we love, men in general are mad clueless, my daughter. If I’m
not mistaken, he’s trying to bridge the gulf between you two and probably doesn’t
know what to do next. I’d say being in Washington was his way of getting the ball
rolling. Maybe the next step is up to you.”

“Fucking hate that there’s never anything on TV,” Alex grumbled to an empty hotel
room.

Furiously clicking through the channels at a rapid clip, he searched for something,
anything, to take his mind off the ugly mess he’d made of his life.

He’d been in D.C. for almost a full week, on a fool’s errand to repair his relationship
with Meghan. But after a failed phone call and a nonsensical voicemail message he
was no further along to meeting that goal than he was while at home in the desert.
She hadn’t picked up his call or responded to his message, not that he’d had the fucking
sense to ask for a callback. In short, after a week of bullshit he was no closer to
finding a solution.

By some miracle he’d managed to get through the security symposium without either
wrecking his or the agency’s reputation and hadn’t done anything so stupid that it
couldn’t be fixed later. Thank God there was just one more session the next morning
and then he was free. But free to do what exactly he still didn’t know.

Settling on the mindless diversion of a shopping channel, he sprawled across the stiff,
uncomfortable sofa in his room and brooded. Just as his thoughts started veering into
self-pity mode, three rapid knocks sounded at his door.

Had he called for room service? Shit. He didn’t know. This whole situation was fucking
with his head so bad that he couldn’t remember what he was doing between one moment
and the next.

Bitchy and miserable, he went to answer just barely remembering to make sure he had
clothes on before yanking the hotel room door open. Not that he cared one way or the
other but it wouldn’t do for the Justice CEO to cause a scene in front of hotel staff
with some naked fuckery that would only embarrass the agency.

Just as his hand connected with the door knob he heard a low, ominous voice bark,
“Alex Marquez. FBI. Open the door.”

What the fuck?
Jesus Christ. Just what he didn’t need.

Jaw clenched, he opened the door with a curious expression plastered on his face,
expecting to see vested agents with guns drawn on the other side only to find Draegyn
and Cameron standing in the empty hallway literally hanging on to each other in a
fit of silent laughing.
Motherfuckers.

“Oh man!” Cam hooted. “Wish you could see your face.”

Drae was howling with delight and slapping Cam on the back as if they’d just pulled
off the best prank ever.

“Fuck,” Drae muttered. “You’re right Cam. I shoulda been ready with my phone to snap
a picture. Put it up on the agency web site as a ‘caption this’.”

“What the hell is wrong with you two?” Alex bellowed as he stepped aside to let them
in. He might not appreciate the joke but he sure was glad to see them.