Desert Angel (Family Justice Book 2) (25 page)

“Didn’t you tell me once that
Say Sorry and Move On
was the first thing you learned in Jury 101?”

His amusement was a full-on grin now.

She kept going. “You’re sorry? Let’s be friends? Time to eat?”

“No?” he sniggered on a strained cough. He shrugged and crossed his arms. “Okay. What’s it going to be then? A lecture or an inquisition?”

Angie was startled by how quickly she answered. And her answer? Pure reflex.

“Just tell me why. Why did you hang out with me? Let me think that we . . . um, I mean . . . let me think I was special? Why’d you do it Parker?”

“Fair enough, Angel,” he responded soberly.

She nodded but said nothing and waited.

“What you heard that day was me being an idiot. I spoke before thinking my words through. One of my co-workers was giving me shit about seeing us together all the time. His head was in the fucking gutter, and I couldn’t let him think like that about you. So, I said the first thing that came to mind. Something that would instantly squash whatever rumors were going around and also make the guy feel like a perverted piece of shit for having dirty thoughts about a kid. Did I handle things badly?” He grunted. “Yes, yes, and yes.”

If silence was precious, they needed an armored truck to accommodate the priceless quiet that hung around them.

His explanation made sense. Dammit. But she noticed that while he gave a straightforward accounting of what had gone down to start all this, he did not elaborate on the finer points of her question. The part about hanging out with her and letting Angie believe that she was special.

Had it just been sex after all? Older man. Younger, innocent girl. Was that all it was ever meant to be?

P
ARKER KNEW WHEN HIS INSTINCTS
were right. It was something he could feel; a useful ability for anyone who had to think quickly on his feet. But he wasn’t going to get involved in a postmortem that would get them nowhere. He was all about moving the ball downfield. The
I’m Sorry
portion of the campaign was in the can. Now he wanted to start advancing on the future instead of replaying the past.

She wasn’t the twenty-year-old he remembered, and she’d certainly matured into a savvy businesswoman, but none of that changed the fact that what he told Alex was true. He was in love with her. Probably always had been. He’d been thinking about it in the shower this morning. Shit, he was always thinking about it, but earlier, it occurred to him that there were so many different kinds of love.

There was love at first sight, which perfectly described Alex and Meghan.

Not to be outdone was second-chance love and lost love.

And then there was the kind of love that was pure destiny. That written in the stars crap. Two souls who are part of the other. Infinite. He figured his fate had probably been sealed the first time he’d ever laid eyes on the chubby bundle of pink and put a grubby little boy’s finger into the tiny fist of the baby girl with the shocking sapphire eyes.

He’d been a dumbass. So much time wasted, but he was done with that now. The girl was his. Belonged to him. He was through sweating bullets over past mistakes. Fuck that crap. This was how he rolled. Once Parker made up his mind about something—that was it. He didn’t vacillate or go back and forth. It was part of what had made him a successful attorney. He wasn’t swayed by extraneous crap.

The universe had given him another shot at getting this right. Dropping Angie into his lap in a situation that forced them to deal with one another was an opportunity he didn’t plan to fuck up. She needed a real man, not that fruit loop she’d been engaged to.

“You’re my best friend’s sister. I’ve known you for your whole life, Angel. Our families couldn’t be closer if they tried. Were we stupid? Yes,” he assured her with a dark look. “But seeing you again, after all this time. . . . well, it made me realize that I’ve missed you, baby girl.”

She stared at him, occasionally blinking but with an otherwise blank expression. He wasn’t doing what she expected and knowing that gave him the upper hand. By the time the wedding rolled around, he had planned to have her wrapped up tight. There was no way he was letting Angelina Marquez go back to Spain when her time in the States came to an end.

“And that’s it?” she drawled after a tense hesitation.

He almost laughed. She kept trying to flat foot him by acting all bent out of shape that he wasn’t taking any of her shit.

“Give it up, Angel baby,” he chortled. Reaching for her wrist, he grabbed hold and started pulling her across the banquette, sliding her closer. “Now get that cute ass over here and let’s dig in. If you want to keep bitching at me while we eat—then, fine. But you’ll be doing it with a full mouth.”

He saw her gasp at the intended innuendo and plowed ahead. Keeping her off balance was amusing as shit.

“Have you ever shared a hot pot before?” he asked as he picked up a set of chopsticks and began dropping things into the double-sided pot. “One side is broth and it’s hot as balls so be careful and the other side is oil.”

She was so predictable, just like the Angie he remembered. Put something new or unique under her nose and she was hooked. He chortled softly when she leaned closer and watched what he dropped into the scalding hot broth.

One time he and Alex had terrorized a very young Angie and her older sister, Sophia, during a Dia de los Muertos charade. Soph had completely lost her shit while he and Alex laughed their asses off. Angie though, young as she was, got over her fright quickly and immediately became all-curious. How had they made those scary noises? Where did the masks come from? Parker was watching her play those emotions out again right in front of him. This was the real girl he knew so well. By putting something unexpected in her way, he’d sidetracked her outrage by stoking her natural curiosity.

“Oooh, can I do that?” she asked nodding at the chopsticks and plate of tantalizing tidbits. “What do you do? Just drop it in?”

He couldn’t help the smirk. Damn woman was practically shoving him out of the way. Using a long handled basket utensil, he scooped the lobster chunks from the flavored broth and put them on a plate. When she reached to snatch a bite, he was ready for her, swatting her hand away with a laugh.

“Chill your tits, woman,” he drawled.

She sputtered and sat back with an astonished look on her flawlessly beautiful face. “Er, uh . . . excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Parker said on the edge of a growl. “This is your first time. Chill.”

He paused for good measure and gauged her reaction so far.

“Let me show you how we do it.”

Using the chopsticks, he picked up one of the lobster chunks and held it up to her mouth.

The expression on her face was really, really funny. He’d chosen his words carefully to see if she remembered. Well, he chuckled silently. I have an answer to that question! Not only did she remember, her eyes told him that he was on thin ice.
Fuck yeah, this was fun.

“C’mon,” he urged with a cheeky grin that he just couldn’t stop. Motioning with the chopsticks to encourage her to take a bite, he said, “Trust me.”

He couldn’t wait to see what she did. Challenging her so outlandishly was either going to pay off handsomely or get his ass handed back to him. Depended on what she really wanted. If all that was left was anger, she’d push back. And he’d know. But if she let him play this out, well. . . .

She didn’t hesitate. Not really. Nor did she surrender. Typical Angie. But she did open her mouth and let him slide the lobster tidbit onto her tongue while staring him down with a mocking glare.

When she bit into the seafood, he quickly snagged the other piece and popped it into his mouth.

“Oh, my god,” she groaned. “That is so good.”
Unf.

Hehehe.
Score one for the lobster. That shit was so good, it’d make you forget your name. He had her fucking attention now.

Next, he took a few chunks of marinated beef and lowered them into the hot oil using long skewers. She watched everything he did.

And so it went on for the next hour as curiosity kept her entranced and Parker pressed his advantage. In the end, she’d allowed him to feed her. He’d orchestrated every mouthful. Chose each morsel. It was a powerful statement he was making.

Fuck it,
he thought. This was who he was. If she couldn’t handle it, better they figured that out now because if she was game, he was going to move heaven and fucking Earth to make this work.

By the end of the evening, they’d consumed a surprising amount of food, ending the fondue feast with an assortment of dessert and fruit items, pots of melted chocolate, and thick gooey caramel, as they indulged their mutual affinity for all things sweet.

But the best part? They’d done it as friends. Yeah, he’d pulled a power play by taking control, but they’d talked, a lot. Laughed a little, too. Glimpses of their previous friendship shone through. It was good stuff and had been worth the challenge. Finally, real hope.

As they walked out of the restaurant, Parker thoroughly enjoyed watching her as he brought up the rear, enthralled by her incredibly long legs in the very skimpy skirt. Even dressed down as she was, the woman was hot as shit.

Waiting at the valet stand for his car, he kept a proprietary arm around her waist and balls out stared down another person waiting nearby for a cab who was checking Angie out with a rather obvious leer. The venomous look Parker shot him duly chastened the man who quickly ducked his head and looked away.

Just as he spied his car coming round the bend, Angie flinched at his side and let out an enormous belch that made every eye in the vicinity turn. He couldn’t believe a sound that big had come out of such a little thing.

Parker was flabbergasted and watched with barely controlled hilarity as her hands flew to her mouth in embarrassment. All he could see were two startled eyes, wide and mortified, looking at him over her fingers.

Dramatically rolling his eyes as the Porsche pulled alongside them, Parker murmured in a low, mockingly long-suffering voice low that only she would hear, “Can’t take you anywhere . . . sheesh!”

Angie was giggling uncontrollably as she flopped like a true klutz onto the passenger seat when he held her door open. She was still giggling as he leaned across her to buckle the seatbelt in place. Taking full advantage, he slid two fingers underneath the belt from shoulder to hip caressing her the whole way. She wasn’t laughing by the time he pulled back.

After handsomely tipping the valet, Parker slid behind the wheel of the powerful car and pulled out into traffic only instead of immediately heading back to L’Auberge where Meghan was no doubt waiting to see how they’d fared, he made for an area nearby. Pulling into a parking spot that offered some privacy, he put the car in park and reached for her. Sliding his big hand to the nape of her neck, he tugged her toward him and growled, “If you’re wondering if I’m going to kiss you, the answer is yes. So why wait?”

And he kissed her. Gently at first. Sweet sighs mingled with the sound of their smacking lips until her sighs became muted whimpers. And then the kiss turned hot and carnal. His tongue demanded everything, and she answered, shyly. Her bashful response thickened his blood. Before long, she was demanding as much as she was giving. The whole thing was a delicious, intense tasting that was wet, deep, and intoxicating.

Back on the road, Parker was wildly satisfied with the knowledge that regardless of whatever conflict remained in her heart and mind, Angie couldn’t subdue her need for him. It was there for him to taste. Yep. This was more than worth fighting for.

After parking in the visitor’s section at the hotel, he kissed her again. I mean, what the hell, right? He had a well-known sweet tooth, after all, and nothing was sweeter or more satisfying than the taste of his Spanish Angel. And she melted each time his lips touched hers, so how the hell was he supposed to resist such overwhelming temptation?

When he helped her from the car with a gentle tug, she propelled straight into his chest with a slight thud. Looking down and seeing her dainty hands splayed across his broad chest as she struggled for balance nearly brought Parker to his knees.

He couldn’t help himself. Shutting the car door, he trapped her against the Porsche with his body. Panting slightly, she stared up into his face.

“No more running, baby girl. Understand?”

Angie bit her lip and looked away.

“No,” he growled. “You will look at me, Angelina. Whatever happens—you don’t hide your eyes from me.”

He had to give her credit. The fearless girl he knew looked back at him with eyes that never wavered.

“I’m confused, Parker. By everything. You. Me. Being back here again. The way that makes me feel.” She shook her head and grimaced. “I’m not running, but that doesn’t mean I know what I’m doing.”

“Understood.”

They walked in silence, holding hands the whole way until they made it to the cottage where he kissed her yet again. Ever the gentleman, he escorted her to the door but declined the invitation to come in and say good night to Meghan. He wanted the last moment they had together to just be the two of them.