Sanctuary (Family Justice Book 3) (60 page)

Dev hissed when Fin started singing “Danny Boy” at the top of his fucking lungs. “Maybe I’ll talk to Dad about it. We’re all at the end of our rope. The kid’s a live wire who could start a blaze we couldn’t put out at any moment.”

Alex elbowed Meghan’s big brother and nodded his head in the direction of their fathers. “I hear they got shit-faced last night.”

“Is that what they call it?” the other man laughed. “Ma pulled the ‘let’s have brisket’ card out of her apron pocket, and before you knew what was happening, your folks, the Sullivans, Calder and his lady, plus Father Ed were pounding Guinness like it was ice water. Then my aunt and her husband came by and shit got real after that. There may have been drunken howling, and there was definitely bagpipes at some point.”

“Bagpipes?” Alex chuckled. “For real?”

Dev shrugged and looked embarrassed. “Uncle Colin. He takes those damn things everywhere. Whatever you do, don’t ask him if he can pipe ‘Stairway to Heaven.’”

It didn’t seem possible that any group of people could be as colorful or whacked out as his Justice crew, but goddammit if the O’Briens weren’t giving them all a run for the gold.

“Listen,” the man said before leaving Alex to his thoughts. “We’re good to go at the Fireman’s Hall for your little surprise performance. Since it’s a private party, there’ll be more than enough alcohol. Mike thinks we should stop by and check things out beforehand. The drum set he borrowed is fucking huge, dude. You sure you can handle a big-time concert setup?”

“Oh, I’ve got this,” he assured Deval. “And I think his idea to film the whole thing was brills. Great blackmail footage for easy future reference.”

“Hey, son,” his dad called. “Paddy thinks we should plan a family vacation in Ireland. I think it’s a fantastic idea. You down?”

“Holy shit,” Alex muttered. “My father just asked me if I was down.”

Dev laughed once more and gave him another hearty whack on the back. “Welcome to the family, bro.”

With Maggie O’Brien sniffling up a storm and Alex’s mom not far behind, Meghan stood on a circular riser in front of a huge full-length mirror in the wedding gown she’d known at first glance was made for her.

Instead of choosing something traditional and conservative, she’d gone mental and picked a dress that was feminine, ethereal, and balls-out sexy as fuck at the same time.

When she started searching for a dress, her mother had slowly driven her crazy. All she asked was for Meghan to choose a dress with sleeves. “None of that strapless nonsense,” she’d lectured. “God will be watching.” Okay. Sleeves. No problem. She was just going to do it Meghan style.

“Oh, you wonderful, wonderful girl,” Ashleigh Marquez cried.

“Meggie.
Mo stoirín
. I can barely breathe—you look so beautiful.”

She did too. The white dress was perfect. Long, off-the-shoulder sleeves and a sweetheart neckline, it was held up almost entirely by her boobs. Fitted through the waist, the bottom showed off her curves. She loved, loved, loved the silhouette.

But when she turned around? That was where shit got real. Bare shoulders and an open back contoured into a mermaid flare that made her ass look like a million bucks. A glorious train sewn with delicate crystal and the palest green beads they could find made her feel like a princess. A sexy, voluptuous princess.

Alex was going to love it.

She looked over at the girls who were sitting quietly on a large sectional. Angie wisely took a backseat so the two mothers could have their moment with the bride.

The bride.
Meghan sighed.

“Thoughts?” she asked everyone assembled.

“You know what I think,” Angie said. She’d seen the dress many times and enthusiastically declared it ‘the bomb.’

Sophie gave her a distracted thumbs-up.

Brody’s girlfriend, Heather, looked at her all misty eyed. “As an outsider looking in, all I can say is wow.”

“Victoria?”

“Oh my god, Irish. I don’t know what to say.”

Lacey’s wistful smile hit her right between the eyes. “Meghan. You make such a beautiful bride, sweetie. Alex is going to be so proud.”

A quiet sob made her look back at her mother. She was wearing a stricken expression and was clutching one of Ashleigh’s hands as the little woman covered her face with a wad of tissues.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Ashleigh said with a wave of her hand. “It’s just that Alexander, oh dear.” She didn’t finish and was clearly struggling. Angie and Sophia immediately jumped up and went to their distressed mother.

Meghan felt tears fill her eyes. Next thing that happened, Lacey and Tori also dashed to Mrs. Marquez, enveloping her in an emotional group hug. Stepping off the riser in her elegant dress, she quickly joined them in the loving expression of solidarity. Each one of them struggled with their own feelings about what a life without Alex would be like.

When the moment passed and everyone sat down, she saw Heather wipe away some tears. Knowing that their heartfelt display moved her just made Meghan like the enigmatic newcomer even more.

Crooking her finger at her mother, she called her over. “Ma?”

With all the precision you’d see in a general reviewing the troops, Maggie O’Brien slowly circled Meghan. Touching the magnificent dress here and there, she spread out the delicious train. When she’d seen the dress from every possible angle, she came to stand between her and the mirror. The look on her mother’s face when their eyes met would stay with her forever.

“I’ve always said you look ravishing in white, my daughter.”

They shared an emotional mother-daughter moment through their eyes and then her irrepressible mother got the last word on the subject of Meghan’s dress.

Twirling an earring, she made that mom face Meghan loved so much. “While I have no doubt your Major will enjoy the back view as much as the front,” she said with an eyebrow raised at her cleavage, “your da, on the other hand, is going to pee himself right there in the front pew.”

All the ladies laughed. Then Ma looked at Mrs. Marquez, and with her hands slapped to her waist, she threw down with a pithy, “Madam, your son is a dog.”

“Indeed,” Ashleigh agreed with a husky chuckle. “Although your ballsy daughter seems to know how to calm the beast.”

Meghan quite literally almost toppled off the riser with laughter when the word beast came out of the tiny woman’s mouth. Angie was the first one rushing to her side, also laughing, with her hands up to stop her stumble.

And then Sophie … silent, pensive Sophie chimed in with the perfect comment leaving the entire group of ladies speechless.

Although her tone was as dry as the Arizona desert where she grew up, Meghan heard affection too when she simply said, “Beauty and the Beast. How delightful.”

Yes
, Meghan thought.
Yes, it is.

“Good grief, woman. What the hell is all this?”

“Ugh,” Heather groaned as she dropped armloads of bags on the floor just inside their hotel room door. “Help me, would you? My fingers are numb from all the handles.”

Brody leaped from the sofa where he’d been idly flipping through a magazine and rushed to help as she tried to disentangle from her burden. There were so many bags and packages that he had to make a joke. “What? You stockpiling or applying for a Santa’s helper job?”

When everything was laid out, she stepped around the mound of tissue and bags with a very large Victoria’s Secret bag hooked on her finger. “I suggest you zip it, Mr. Jensen, if you want to find out what’s in here.”

A grin broke out on his face. Rubbing a hand over his stubbled chin, he gave her a wolfish leer. “Better not be that man thong you keep going on about ‘cause, lady, that isn’t ever gonna happen.”

When she giggled, he paused with wonder. Discovering this softer side to his ladylove was a sweet surprise.

“So says the man who lost his shit in Hollywood blockbuster fashion last night. What do you think the title of that movie would be?”

Witch. She was never going to let him live down not making it back to the hotel before he came in her mouth. He couldn’t help it. What the fuck was he supposed to do when the woman had a wicked tongue and took way too much enjoyment from swallowing his cock?

“Thar she blows? Oooh, or maybe Cab Gusher-The Untold True Story.”

“Oh, yeah?” He chuckled. “You just got lucky, m’lady. Snagging one of the Town Cars instead of a public taxi meant I never stood a chance against your sexy mouth.”

She blushed. He smiled. Since she admitted to having doubts, reminding her in any way he could that she was sexy as fuck was one of his prime missions in life.

“Seriously. What’s in the bag?”

Asking what she bought was like strapping into a carnival ride. He was finding out that next to the actual shopping, nothing pleased a woman more than showing off what she got.

Completely ignoring that they were in mid-flirt, Heather gathered a couple of bags and shooed him toward the sofa. She was completely fucking charming, launching into a presentation that reminded him of a kid in front of a class.

“Okay,” she said. A quick, thoughtful lip bite followed. “You can’t see everything—some stuff has to be a surprise.” The Victoria’s Secret bag got pushed to the side. Damn. He really wanted to see what was in there.

Brody had to chuckle when she started at the very beginning. “So the ladies took me shopping.”

Duh.

“Victoria’s mother met us. She’s some kind of fashion fairy godmother. Um, something like that, anyway.” She adorably shrugged.

Spot-on description of Stephanie.

“This rehearsal whatever y’all have planned-”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Brody interrupted. Bellowing with amused laughter, he sat forward and held up his hands as if he was framing a shot. “Did you just say … y’all?”

“Did I?” she asked. Her face was a mask of disbelief. “I suppose I did.”

Now that he’d rattled her cage, he sat back, balanced a booted ankle on his knee, and waved at her to continue. “Cool. Go ahead.”

Momentarily flustered, her brows bumped together on a frown. Then she did an ‘oh well’ shoulder wag and went right back to what she’d been saying.

“Anyway,” she drawled, “Stephanie helped me find an outfit for that. Oh, and some crazy shoes I’m sure you’ll love.”

Clasping his hands in prayer, he turned his face upward and playfully chanted, “Oh please, please, please. Open toe, slingback, come-fuck-me heels.”

Dryly, and with a snarky smirk, she replied, “Actually, we went with ballet flats.”

“Did this outfit you speak of pass muster with the ladies?”

She tossed the hair off her shoulder with a cute headshake and laughed. “Oh, my god. Don’t ever let me loose with them in a store again. It’s like they’re on maneuvers. Victoria goes off and finds the most outrageous things while Lacey is a magnet for anything that screams feminine. And Angie? Sheesh. That one is all about T and A. More boobs and lots of ass. If it’s short and low-cut, she’s all over it.”

“And Stephanie and Meghan? What parts did they play?”

That’s when her smile got the biggest.

“Stephanie could make a stick look runway perfect. For her, it’s presentation. The entire package. Accessories included. But Meghan?” She nodded a second before looking him in the eye. “Your Major’s bride is all about what makes him happy. First and foremost, she’s wired for his pleasure. I love the way she thinks.
If your man likes what he sees, it doesn’t matter if you’re wearing a trash bag with arm holes
. That’s a direct quote.”

Well, shit. After that neat explanation, he couldn’t wait to see what she wore. Knowing how seriously the Justice ladies can throw down when it came to one of their signature celebrations, he didn’t doubt his socks were either going to be knocked off or set on fire.

Opening the zip on a garment bag, she withdrew a dress that he knew, at first glance, was something quite different from anything she normally wore. The über professional woman he’d known favorited plain straight skirts and nondescript blouses that were, in his opinion, too old for her. Pretty but boring. Mostly what she wore said
Nothing to see here—move along.

But the dress she held up? The one he saw her looking at with nervous awe? Whoa. Game changer.