Desert Angel (Family Justice Book 2) (26 page)

“Enjoy tomorrow and make sure you set your brother’s credit card on fire, okay?” he snickered.

She smiled sweetly and told him, “I hear they have an awesome mani-pedi for guys. Wanna slide by and get your nails done?”

He laughed and gave her a hearty smack on the behind. “Fuck, no.”

“S
OOO . . . ?”

Angie chuckled. The door wasn’t even completely shut and already the third degree had begun.

“We smoked the peace pipe. There won’t be any need for pistols at dawn,” she smirked. “What are you watching? Is that John Wayne?”

“Yes, yes, yes.” Meghan laughed. She was sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the fireplace, her back against the sofa, a pillow in her lap, and a bowl of ice cream balanced precariously on the pillow.

“Found it on Netflix. John Wayne and Maureen O’Hara. A favorite of my mom’s. Filmed in Ireland, of course! It’s called the
Quiet Man.
The lead character reminds me of the Major.”

“Is that a blush I see?” Angie quipped.

Meghan snatched up the remote and muted the TV. “All right, lady. Enough about some old movie and me. Spill the beans, Angie. Is Parker still on the naughty list?”

“I guess everyone knows now, huh? About me and Parker.”

“Did you really think you were going to keep something like that a secret? C’mon! We knew after ten seconds with both of you in the same room that something was up. What the hell did you think would happen?”

“Alexander hasn’t said anything,” Angie mumbled.

“Nor will he,” Meghan was quick to assure her. “Unless, of course, you two make a mess of things. Or if a certain lawyer needs an ass kicking.”

“Does Alex know . . . I mean, did Parker tell him what actually happened or are we talking about a non-specific blanket admission with no detail?”

“Honey,” Meghan jeered as she patted Angie’s hand. “Men don’t generally do detail—not even with each other, unless there’s a crisis. I can tell you that the confession was rather broad but time date stamped. Alex knows whatever happened, took place while he was playing war.”

“Is he mad?”

Meghan shook her head as she finished off the last of her ice cream. “Mad? No. I wouldn’t call it that. I think the timing got to him. If I understand correctly, you were still a teenager and Parker should have known better.”

“It was all a misunderstanding,” Angie began, but Irish cut her off with a deep laugh.

“Misunderstanding? How do you figure? Did his penis fall into your vagina by accident?” she jeered.

Angie screeched. “Oh, for god’s sake, Meghan. What the hell?”

“What? Too blunt or not blunt enough?” Irish blurted. “Sometimes it’s hard for me to tell where to draw the line. Tori, on the other hand,” she giggled, “would have gone full on cock and pussy.”

“Yeah, while Lacey would be covering her ears and muttering about Mr. Stiffy and Miss Wetagain.”

They hiccupped and wiped away tears after having a good old-fashioned giggle fest.

“If you want to tell me, Angie, I’m all ears. I won’t lie to the Major, but I do know how to explain things to him in a way that won’t send him off half-cocked. It might help if I knew a little bit of background.”

They sat together on the floor beside the fireplace and talked. Meghan was a smart lady. Telling someone she trusted her side of what happened was long overdue.

“So, let me see if I have this straight. It was just sex, you overheard him being a guy, and what? No big deal even though you haven’t spoken in years?”

“Sounds ridiculous when you put it like that,” Angie muttered.

“Aw hell, Angie. You were what? Nineteen? Just barely twenty? I was a fucking idiot at that age. College keg parties in the woods. Beer pong. Whatever happened with you guys back then was far from ridiculous. And, for the record . . . if it had been me, I would have caused a huge scene and probably ended up having one of my brothers neuter the bastard. Of course, that would have proved a little embarrassing after hearing his explanation, but at the time? He would have been toast.”

“I think I always knew I was overreacting, but honestly, if it hadn’t been that, it would have been something else. You’re right about one thing. I was too young. Wa
aaa
y too damn young to be playing those sorts of games with a man so much older. And more experienced.”

“Hmmm, that part surprises me,” she admitted to Angie. “Makes me question what was really going on in Parker’s mind.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Well,” Meghan began thoughtfully, “Parker and Alex are a lot alike and while they both have a dominant streak a mile wide, they’re also two of the most decent, honorable men alive. All the Family Justice guys are. It kind of baffles me how he acted so out of character, considering your age, if all he was doing was fucking around. If it was, as you say,
just sex.
That doesn’t sound at all like the man I know. I mean, if you think about it, he was jeopardizing his relationship with Alex and for what? To get laid? And destroy two friendships? Are you so sure it wasn’t more than that?”

“Oh god, Meghan,” she groaned. “How the hell should I know? It was all so fast. Not our friendship, of course. The intimate thing. One minute, we were the best of friends, and the next, I was so far out of my league it wasn’t funny. The man overwhelmed me sexually, and in a lot of ways, that experience still affects my life and the decisions I make.”

“You’re talking about your engagement?”

She nodded but Aldo wasn’t the only example of her poor decision making. Right after she’d relocated to Spain, some three years after the blow-up with Parker, she’d had a brief fling with an English wine merchant. But he, like Aldo, was a paler version of her ideal man. And Parker had everything to do with that. She’d begun to worry that what was best for her didn’t seem to peacefully co-exist with what her heart wanted.

A marriage between the Esperanza and the Valleja-Marquez families wouldn’t have been a bad thing. Two old world patrician Spanish families?
Shit.
Magazine articles were written about stories like that. But while she respected Ronaldo Senior and his long career as a financial expert, she despised what Aldo did.

He was what was called a celebrity handler, managing a stable of so-called VIPs with a heavy emphasis on one peculiar category—that of the celebrity DJ. Angie always wondered what the hell that even meant. She hated having to go to events that normally would have fascinated her on a professional level purely because she despised the fake kissy face nonsense and unctuous entitlement that came along with the whole celebrity thing.

But Ronaldo? He loved that crap. Thought they’d make an awesome team—he with his management credentials and business skills and her with her extensive experience planning everything from product launches to award celebrations.

On the surface, it would have been the smart thing to do. Marry into an old family and get a suave European husband with a career in sync with hers. Hobnobbing with the rich and famous. Vacations on the Riviera. Sailing in Greece. Weekends in Tuscany. Whoop-de-fucking-do. Only thing was, Aldo brought out the wanton in her exactly never. As in
ever.

While he was pursuing her and even after their engagement, he’d behaved himself appropriately but Angie wasn’t stupid. She had no passion for the man whatsoever, and he wouldn’t have put up with that shit after they were married. Eventually, she was sure, being surrounded as he was by too much goddamn privilege, he would have ended up cheating. So what seemed like perfection on the outside had a nightmare inner core.

It would have been different—maybe, if she’d been able to work up any sort of desire for Aldo. He was good looking in that haute couture kind of way but he wasn’t what you’d describe as being a manly man. Everything about him left her cold.

She wanted a man who would take her in hand and make her feel like a woman. Someone who challenged her on every level. He had to be firm and commanding with a strong protective streak that would make keeping his family safe from harm a priority. And he must have a sense of who he was as a man. She wasn’t interested in a poser or a wannabe. No boys need apply.

Gee,
she snickered.
I wonder who I just described.

“Aldo was the least of it,” she finally admitted to Meghan. “I cut myself off from the things that makes me happiest because I couldn’t face what we did. Staying away only hurt me. I’d say that qualifies for questionable decision making.”

The fire crackled quietly as the two sat there deep in thought.

“Is that why you wanted to come here now? To re-visit some of the decisions you think were bad?”

Pfft.
“I knew the minute I ended my engagement that returning to Arizona was inevitable. Even then, everything was already leading me here. When you asked me to help with the wedding, I figured waiting for any more signs would be kind of ridiculous.”

“
Hmmm.
” Meghan fiddled with her engagement ring and settled back against the sofa, stretching her legs out toward the fire. “And what about Parker? How did you see this playing out?”

An excellent question. How
did
she see it all play out?

“God, Meghan. I’ve loved him since I was old enough to know what love was. There isn’t a second of my earliest memories that don’t include him. He’s my touchstone in some strange way. When I made the honor roll, it was Parker’s praise that meant the most. If something made me unhappy, three words from him and I’d be smiling again. Does that make sense?”

Meghan snickered and rolled her eyes. “You’re making a funny, right? My whole life changed the second your brother came into it. From that moment on, everything got filtered through him. Every thought, feeling, taste, desire,
everything.
Does Parker being your touchstone make sense? Honey . . . nine months ago, if you’d said that, I would have thought you daft or a hopeless romantic. Today, I say, welcome to my world.”

Angie smiled. Red was so easy to love. Alex better realize how fucking lucky he was to have such a strong, spirited woman.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Aww . . .” Meghan smiled warmly. “You can ask me anything. You know that.”

“Okay, well . . . you and Alexander seem so well matched but that’s now. When did you know? For sure.”

Meghan smiled sort of wistfully. “I felt something immediately, but I knew for sure when I left him. I loved him and walking away nearly killed me, but he had to decide what was more important. The future or the past. Until he did, we had nothing.”

Sounded like the narrative swirling in her brain. It was funny how she and her brother both came to that moment when letting go of the past became the key to having a future. Could she do it? Just move past one awful moment in time and rethink the future?

“Of course,” Meghan drawled mockingly, “once that control freak brother of yours decided . . . well, my life has been completely taken over. So there’s that.”

They laughed. Angie knew it was true. Alex was seriously overprotective of Meghan.

“You know what would be funny?” she chirped.

Meghan quirked an eyebrow.

“A tattoo. Why don’t you get a tattoo? Maybe have
Alex
put on your butt.”

Instead of laughing off the suggestion, Meghan actually seemed to think it over. “A tattoo has possibilities.”

“Really?” Angie squeaked. “This is epic! I want to get some ink before I turn thirty. Now, I know it’s still a ways off,” she smirked, “but I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”

“What would you get?” Meghan asked.

“Wanna see? I have some drawings in my binder.” Reaching for the overflowing notebook, she opened it carefully and flipped a couple of pages. Pointing, she said, “Like this. Really small, though.”

“Are those angel wings?”

“Yeah,” Angie replied. “They’re cool, huh?”

“Wow,” Red murmured as she checked out the page of drawings. “They’re really pretty. I like these,” she said with a finger on a particularly beautiful pair of delicate, feminine looking wings.

“Have you ever considered getting something inked?” she asked.

Meghan grunted out a deep chuckle. “I’m considering it now.”

She flipped through a few more pages and stopped. “What this?” she asked. “It looks familiar.”

Angie peered at the notebook to see what she was referring to.

“Ah. That. Those are mock-ups of the family crest. For the new label design Sophie is working on. She took the original emblem and had it cleaned up to be more modern and easier to see. It’s cool, don’t you think?”

Meghan bent over the page and studied the drawings intently. “Which one did you go with?”

“The one with the black griffin and the vines.”

“Hmmm.”

“What are you thinking, Meghan?”

Red looked at her with a huge grin. “I’m thinking you and I are getting tattoos.”

Angie fell over onto her side laughing. “Alex said our mom would kill me if I got a tattoo. I can’t wait to see his face when it’s
you
with the ink!”