Sanctuary (Family Justice Book 3) (46 page)

As Calder sputtered and shifted foot-to-foot, Alex ignored his embarrassment and zeroed in on Parker.

He grinned then swallowed hard when his friend’s expression got serious.

“And Parker.” Alex stared at him for the longest time, saying nothing. Finally, with half a grin, he told him, “Since my bride saw fit to threaten me with your questionable legal talents,” he managed to get out before Meghan socked him hard in the arm—an attack he brushed off like a pesky mosquito. “You are hereby fired as my personal attorney.”

“What?” he choked out. Bewildered and not at all amused, he asked, “Are you serious?”

Everyone in the room froze. You could cut the tension with a chainsaw; it was so thick. Meghan looked like she was in mid brain seizure and Angie was all but jumping out of her skin at his side. Was Alex out of his fucking mind?

Just when he thought his head might explode, Alex waved him off with a dismissive grunt. “Nah. I’m just fucking with you.”

Angie and Meghan both wailed, “Alex,” at the exact same time.

He looked at them and shrugged innocently. “What?”

Amidst a chorus of boos and hisses, they took their seats as Cam queued up the evening’s entertainment.

“What’s showing?” Drae asked.

“In honor of the bride, we will be watching
The Quiet Man
. Again,” he drawled. “And for the record, after a show of hands, we’ve decided that next Halloween you’ll be couple-costuming as John Wayne and Maureen O’Hara.”

Angie leaned in and kissed Parker’s shoulder. “If they get two Hollywood screen legends, what’s that leave for us?”

Parker grinned. “Good question.” He looked around at the odd assemblage. “I’m thinking the beauty queen and her surfer is taken.”

Angie tittered quietly. “My mom is gonna shit when she meets Stephanie Bennett!”

Parker glanced at Cam and Lacey. “And that asshole, Cam,” he said with a good dose of snark. “What’s that guy’s name? Joe Mangan-eat-your jello? Yeah, him. I think he’s got that covered.”

“What about Lacey?”

Considering the quiet beauty, he smiled at his love. “Hmm. How about Tinkerbell? Or the good witch from the
Wizard of Oz
?”

“Okay.” Angie laughed playfully. “So back to my question. What’s that leave for us?”

He grinned broadly. “Easy, baby girl.” Pointing at her, he laughed easily. “Angel, of course.”

“And you, counselor? What’s your part to play in this three-ring circus?”

“Ah, it’s obvious, don’t you think? I’m the devil, of course!”

As the movie lit up the big screen, Angie cuddled close. “You are a devil, Sir. There’s no question about that.”

“And don’t you forget it.”

W
ITH ALMOST THEIR
entire flight passing in complete silence, it wasn’t until they were a little more than ninety minutes outside New York City before Meghan felt like talking.

Leaving the Major proved much more difficult than she’d imagined. Despite clinging to each other and making love nonstop through the long night, she’d started to cry not long after Ben maneuvered their limousine away from the Villa for the long drive out to the airport. It took an act of God to keep Zeus from crawling into the car with them. Everyone was having a hard time with what was actually a happy thing. Yeah, she was leaving but that leaving would end with a spectacular wedding and the official start of their life together. That’s why her tears were such a surprise.

And what did her bad boy alpha do to make her feel better? He’d put her on her knees, pulled her panties to the side, and calmed her with a raunchy, hair pulling, grunting coupling that took the tears and her breath away. In the aftermath, not only was she centered and in control when they greeted Captain Sawyer on the tarmac, she also was almost in a trance. Wanting Alex to be proud of how she kept it together while people were around, she’d meekly stood at his side, clinging to his hand and smiled.

But boy oh boy, once they met up with Angie, she had nothing. Alex left her at the foot of the stairs with an incendiary kiss then watched her ascend. She saw the possessive gleam in his eye when she turned around at the last and blew him a kiss. She’d never been more glad that in her purse was a spare pair of panties ‘cause if the ones she wore weren’t enough of a sticky mess, they would be even more so after seeing the salacious leer he gave her.

Angie, for her part, seemed to understand Meghan’s mood and spent the majority of the flight either reading or dozing. Once they landed, every minute of time between then and the wedding was booked solid, so realistically, this was the last chance they had to chill.

“What time’s our appointment at the tattoo parlor?”

“Eleven. Tiger sent me a confirmation and the final griffin design. You want to see it one last time before it gets permanently branded on your butt?”

“Not necessary.” She thought for a moment and followed up with another random question. “Who’s picking us up? In New York, I mean.”

“Got a car service for the duration of our stay. For my mom and Sophie too, although they’ll be hanging in the city for a bit after us.”

“Right, right. Does she know what we’re doing? Your mom, I mean. Does Sophie know about the tats?”

Angie chuckled softly, and Meghan heard the affection in her tone. “Good god, no. Mom would have a literal canary and Sophie would try to get involved in the design. It’s all about perfection with her.”

A marching band was doing practice routines in her belly. At least, that was what it felt like whenever she thought about meeting Alex’s mother for the first time.

What if she didn’t like her?

What if his parents wanted someone else for their only son?

What if she said something stupid—or worse, accidentally let her mouth off the leash. Meghan couldn’t pretend that she didn’t swear like a Marine. Being the only girl in a family of men set her up for a life-long trophy in the filthy mouth category.

Intimidated by the Marquez pedigree and their European lifestyle, she worried endlessly that she and her irrepressible and Irish-proud family would come off as a bunch of tacky Colonials. After all, Alex was drop-dead handsome and his old-school manners so effortlessly on point that she was sure they assumed he’d take a society wife. Or maybe even some Euro-aristocrat. Not a plus size redhead with green eyes and the pale skin of a true Irishwoman, who wore gloves to eat a hot dog in the freezing Boston winter, knew more dirty ditties … courtesy of the Boston Police and Fire Departments … than was normal for a respectable girl, and who could drink their badass son under the table and walk away laughing while he slumped to the floor.

Oh, Jesus. Was that the sort of woman they envisioned for the Valleja-Marquez dynasty? Her stomach started to churn.

Angie was
tsking
softly when Meghan came out of her distressing thoughts. “You have very wrong ideas about my family, you know.”

She half-smiled and a small shrugged. “Alex says the same thing.”

“You surprise men, Red. It’s so out of character for the ballsy woman I know to be this … insecure. Let me tell you something about my mom. She’s not at all what you’ve built up in your mind.”

Lord.
Meghan knew she was acting out of character but meeting your man’s mother was a daunting occasion. They’d chatted numerous times before this, but a video call and in person were two entirely different things. The intense perusal she felt through the technology was bound to be a thousand times more direct and intense when they were face-to-face.

What would her mother-in-law see? Alex in no way came off as anything except exactly what he was. Leader. Badass. Alpha. His blood family would know all those things about him. After all, they made him who he was.

She and the woman’s son enjoyed a high-voltage sex life with some unusual leanings that would surely shock the holy hell out of people. And by people, she meant his parents. Meghan squirmed in her seat. In the cocoon of the Villa and Justice compound, their antics got barely more than a glance. Nobody was stupid. The sexual energy she and the Major put off wasn’t imagined. Not with Alex’s covetous looks and demanding ways. And after some time apart, he was going to be in Major Beast mode before the wedding. Hoping he’ll behave around the audience of their families was a complete joke.

“Red,” Angie murmured. She sat next to Meghan on the long comfy sofa and took her hand, patting it like she was a child in need of comfort. Not all that far from the truth.

“Watching you lose your shit over Mom has been endlessly amusing for Sophie and me.”

“Oh, gee thanks,” Meghan muttered. “Glad to know my freakout is bringing the L-O-L’s.”

“You know what? We need some wine. You stay put. I’ll uncork a bottle, and we’ll have a nice long talk about the real Marquez family. Not this idealized craziness you have in your head. Sound good?”

The bottle was half gone when everything coming out of Angie’s mouth struck her as hilarious. Not only could she not wait to meet Ashleigh Dane Marquez, but she also had a new understanding of how much the Marquez clan resembled her own. They were just as crazed, equally as inappropriate where humor was concerned, and the least likely people to be stuffy. The reminder that Parker’s parents were their best friends made it all funnier.

“Our moms have something in common. For as long as I can remember, no matter how many empty chairs are in a room, my mom chooses my dad’s lap.” Angie did one of those comic giggle-swoons that made Meghan love her all the more. Clutching at her heart, she purred, “And it’s so damn sweet, Red. After all the years, the changes, and the upheavals … they still love each other. Big time. So you and Alex? You’re like this weird fusion of my folks and yours, and from where I’m sitting, that’s not a bad thing.”

Laughter and thumping loud music carried from the front of the funky tattoo parlor back to the private studio where a guy who gave new meaning to the term ‘Biker’ held court. Getting an appointment with the legendary skin art pro hadn’t been easy.

“Looks good to me,” he drawled with his distinctive New York accent. “What’s your sister think?”

Angie looked up from the magazine she was engrossed in and offered a bright smile. “Ready to unveil?”

Tiger chuckled low and deep. Meghan liked him right away. He was what was called a bear. Big, beefy, hairy, and about as gay as the day was long. She couldn’t see him because of how she was slumped awkwardly on her side as he inked up her ass cheek, but she heard the amusement in his voice.

“Hell of a design,” he remarked as Angie approached Meghan’s butt. “But I think we got the general feel. The griffin and the vines look amazing, huh? Oh, and right here,” Meghan assumed he was pointing, “If you look close, there’s a small Celtic knot hidden in the vines.”

Silence. What? Why were they silent? Did the unusual tattoo look hideous on her giant ass? If doing this was a mistake, she’d just curl up in a ball and die of embarrassment. After all, the ink was permanent.

“Angie?”

“Oh, Meghan. The damn thing’s fucking fantastic!”

Relief washed over her. Was she out of her mind for doing this? Yeah. Probably. But the symbolism and what it would mean to her husband was all she cared about.