Sanctuary (Family Justice Book 3) (54 page)

Alex sighed. His hands massaging her foot almost distracted Meghan from their conversation. Almost.

“Well,” he replied. “She had no concept of social niceties. To her, the world was black and white—she never sees the gray. If you were sick, she’d scold you about spreading germs. If you were jumping with joy over something, she’d suggest learning meditation to manage being overexcited.”

She nodded. Over the years when she’d been a teacher, Meghan had encountered several kids like Alex described. They were socially detached, had one-track minds, and an unusual relationship with rules. Generally shunned by peers, those students presented a greater challenge than ones who simply mouthed off and misbehaved.

“She didn’t really have friends growing up and didn’t seem to care either. She lived in a world of facts and empirical studies. Where a young girl might read a fashion magazine or subscribe to some pop culture inspired magazine, she waited patiently for the next
Popular Science
publication. It was a disaster in the making.”

“In person, she’s incredibly beautiful. I was surprised because when we FaceTimed and in pictures, she always looks so … serious. I don’t think I’d ever seen her in anything but that lab coat she wears.”

Working on her other foot now, he grunted. “It’s her shield, that damn coat. Separates her from us mere mortals.”

Hmph
. His tone wasn’t what she expected at all.

“Anyway, life goes on, you know? I was gone by the time all the shit went down, but here’s the
Reader’s Digest
version of what they told me. College. Columbia. She got involved with some guy who seemed too perfect to be true. Another nerd, he was studying on a full-ride scholarship. Don’t know how they met or any of that—just know that he was a fact.”

Meghan had a bad feeling about where the story was going.

“Don’t know if she slept with him, although I hope for her sake, she didn’t. They were together for a year and a half.”

“She was helping him get through school, right?”

He looked at her kind of shocked. “How did you know?”

She could only wince. No answer necessary.

“Spring break, her senior year. Bunch of shitheads went on a road trip to the Florida Keys. She and the boyfriend went along. Second night there, Sophie makes a run to the store, and when she came back, the house was empty. Figuring everyone was at the beach, she handled the groceries then went to her room to change.”

“Oh, no,” she groaned.

“Yep. And it wasn’t just him screwing one of her so-called friends. It was him and her roommate plus another girl. Angie, who has the vulgar mouth of a hardened Marine, has been quite vocal telling my folks and me that she walked in on him fucking Sophie’s roommate while he had his face buried in some other girl’s snatch.”

Meghan slugged down the ends of her drink. God, she hated these stories. The female cuckold. Ending up the butt of some asshole’s joke and the object of widely held derision. No wonder Sophie was so closed off.

“They all had an enormous laugh at her expense. She’d been funding everything through her inheritance money and had been the brains behind class projects and important papers. They cultivated her trust then used her social awkwardness to create a circle of false friendships. She was crushed.”

“Poor Sophie,” she murmured. Her heart broke for the poor girl. People really did suck sometimes.

“Guess she was pretty shaken because she took off on her own. Nobody knows what happened after that except a week later she turned up at an emergency room in Corpus Christie, Texas. To borrow a phrase from my mom, she dropped her purse and kept on walking.”

“Your parents must have freaked.”

“Yeah, it was a hard time for everyone. Mental health issues have a way of turning a family upside down and inside out. Props to her for being a badass, though, ‘cause she got her degree and went on to finish a Master’s as well. But she was never the same and hasn’t, to our knowledge, ever been inclined to stick so much as her pinky toe into the friendship pool since.”

Putting her tumbler down, she pulled her legs back and flipped around until she was sitting on Alex’s lap. She had to wrap him in a big hug, not so much for him, but for her. She hated bullies. With a passion. Tori had been bullied, and in a very real way, so had Lacey. Whenever the subject came up, she wanted to hit something. With hard-ass brothers, she wasn’t likely to be teased or bullied and the truth was, it wasn’t in her emotional makeup to take anyone’s shit. Didn’t matter who it was. If she couldn’t get busy hugging her man, she was half tempted to go off and find Sophie’s tormentor and show them how proficient she was at a smack down.

“She has a hard time with outsiders. But she’ll come around.” On an aside, he murmured, “I hope meeting the girls won’t freak her out too much.”

My goodness. He had a point there. She and her Justice sisters could be a tad overwhelming.

“Hey,” she jabbered with rising enthusiasm. “She plays an instrument, right? And probably sings too.”

“She’s a Marquez ,” he drawled. “I told you. Our parents were nut jobs about the arts with all of us. She sings, plays the piano like Elton John, and actually, is quite the composer. When she was twelve, she wrote an entire musical based on sixties counter-culture. Had about five original songs. Angie’s too young to remember, but one year, she made all of us, Parker and the Sullivans included, put on a performance.”

She couldn’t even imagine! My god. Twelve years old and she was composing full songs? “Then there’s nothing to worry about, is there?” Giving her hunky lover some serious side shade, she informed him, “I know y’all have some musical interlude planned.”

He looked at her like chocolate wouldn’t melt in his mouth. The feigned innocence when he drawled, “Have no idea what you’re talking about,” was more adorable than words.

“Nice try, Major,” she husked before a big hand wrapped around her neck and tugged.

“Hush now and use that mouth for a good night kiss. I think we need some serious making out to start things off right.”

She giggled and wrinkled her nose. “Promise you won’t try anything, Major Marquez? I don’t trust myself to say no if you get frisky.”

Alex laughed heartily. “Frisky, is it? I like frisky,” he jested.

“I’m serious.”

His hand on her neck gripped tight, and he bit his lip. “Relax. This is how it’ll go. I’m going to kiss you stupid. Maybe a little over the shirt boob grabbing. Possibly some hand action between your legs. Make sure I’ve got your scent on my skin before I let you run back to Daddy.”

Meghan sobered. She didn’t want to leave. Didn’t want to go home and sleep in her childhood bed. They belonged together.

“Hey,” he growled. “Don’t look like that.”

Had he been reading her thoughts? She stared at him and swallowed hard to ward off the tears threatening to break free.

“I need you,” she choked out.

He laid his sturdy hand over her belly and spread his fingers wide. “And I promise you, darling, that we’re going to take that need and channel it into making a baby. When the time is right.”

She put her hands on top of his. They didn’t say anything for a long time. They just sat there touching her flat stomach and dreaming about filling her empty womb with the next generation of the Valleja-Marquez family.

A long time later, after being thoroughly and completely kissed, he put her in a hired Town Car still dressed in his sloppy sweats and sent her on her way. The driver probably thought her crazy when all she did during the drive was sigh and stare out the window.

A
NGIE FELT LIKE
Julie, the fucking Cruise Director, as she dashed about making sure everything was in order for the bruncheon the O’Briens were throwing for Family Justice. Working off a detailed list Maggie developed, she was walking down the middle of the big banquet room in the uniquely Irish Pub and Restaurant Meghan’s parents frequented. The staff and management at Baxter’s were more than happy, thrilled in fact, to bend over sideways to ensure the well-respected family put on the event they dreamed of.

Looking around, Angie was over the moon with their quirky theme. Hunter green tablecloths draped every table. A nod to the Irish that was so much a part of the festivities. But that was where the Celtic thing ended. Instead of linen napkins, each table setting had a Western bandana and a Mason jar tied with a red ribbon for drinks.

But the piece de resistance? The thing she and Maggie labored over until they got exactly the right thing? In the center of each table was a kid-sized cowboy boot holding a magnificent floral arrangement. The emotional nod to Meghan’s new life was a sweet gesture of respect from her blood family. Angie had no doubt her own parents would be moved.

“Nicely done, Angel.” Parker’s sexy drawl turned her insides to molten lava.

Not expecting him to arrive before everyone else, she whirled around, took in what her sexy lawyer lover was wearing, and jumped into his arms. Nobody did the suit and tie thing quite like Parker did.

Well
, she admitted,
maybe Draegyn
. That guy was born wearing a tailored suit, and she had to admit that even she wasn’t immune to watching the devilish swagger the man perfected over a lifetime of suiting up.

“Where’d you run off to this morning? I don’t like waking up alone.” She’d thrown in a pout for good measure but knew he’d just laugh.

After kissing her soundly, he set her away from him and smiled. Feathering his fingers across her cheek, he murmured gently. “Sorry. The groom called at the ass crack of dawn. Your brother is having a hard time waking up alone too.”

Meghan O’Brien ticked up about a dozen notches on Angie’s internal list of people she held in high regard. The woman was a gift from God. The way she dealt with Alex was crazy cool, and she made a mental note to observe and assess. Angie could learn a lot about the care and feeding of an oversexed and very domineering alpha by watching how the vivacious redhead handled Alexander.

She’d been impressed when Meghan backed down about when they left Arizona. And she did it not just to shut Alex up but because the ripple effect of that one decision had so many negatives attached. Her brother’s fiancée hated negativity, which made her a great person to be around.

But the epic thunderbolt her new sister-in-law threw down by putting the kibosh on the couple’s sexy times until after the wedding was nothing short of brilliant. Keeping Alex on a short leash couldn’t be easy but by denying him in the bedroom—or any room, knowing her perverted brother—ensured Meghan’s private wedding gift to her new husband stayed under wraps until the appropriate time and place.

Now, if only she could keep Red’s secret. One quick glance at Parker and she knew it was just a matter of time before she spilled the whole story.

Her handsome lawyer lover snickered when she didn’t immediately respond. Damn. She had better get her game face on and quick. Parker had a sixth sense where Alex was concerned. Keeping what she knew quiet just wasn’t going to happen.

“A jury consultant would have a field day with you, Angel.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just that your face is like a billboard.”

“Is not.”

“Is too.” He chuckled. Taking her face in his hands, he tilted it toward him and moved it back and forth like he was examining evidence. “Now, let me see. Mmmhmm. You’re cahooting with a certain redhead. I can see it in your eyes.”

Angie wrinkled her nose and rolled her eyes while he kept a firm hold on her head. With a quiet snicker, she asked, “Cahooting? Is that even a word?”

“Where you Justice women are concerned? Yes. Yes, it is. Now, stop trying to distract me.”

She liked the happy gleam in his eyes. He made the most of the look, too. Something about his contented expression gave him an even more outrageously sexy appearance.

They kissed briefly. When he held her face like this, kissing always ensued. How could it not? Wrapping her in a warm embrace, Angie burrowed into him and sighed.

“You know,” he murmured above her head. “While I admire your loyalty to Red, you do understand I’m going to find out whatever you two are hiding.”