Desert Angel (Family Justice Book 2) (57 page)

When it was Red’s turn, she vamped in her sexy boots up to the microphone, with her glorious mane of hair looking like fire under the lights. Gripping the stand, she shimmied slightly and it struck Angie that she looked like a red-haired modern day version of Marilyn Monroe, flirting with the crowd while displaying a stage presence that was mesmerizing.

With a half-moon tambourine that had a zillion colorful shimmery ribbons hanging off it, she playfully shook it close to the mic to get everyone’s attention—as if every male eye in the room wasn’t already firmly fixed on her boobs.

Smiling coyly, she told the crowd, “Help me out here, what’s that expression? Rock out with your . . .” She didn’t finish, just let the crowd fill in the rest with an approving roar.

She tilted her head back and laughed then mocked the audience, saying, “Yeah. .that! Get ready!”

To Angie’s thrilled delight, Meghan chose a classic Stevie Nicks song,
Enchanted,
that gave all the girls the perfect backup harmony opportunity. Borrowing from the rock out—cock out category, they ripped into the song with Meghan providing an exuberant, growling vocal and some kickass tambourine moves that got the crowd on its feet. She smiled to herself. One day real soon, Meghan was going to fully understand how funny her fascination with the legendary rock goddess really was.

Why . . . this was more fun than a Friday night at home in her pjs with a quart of Haagen-Dazs and a chick flick!

And then it was her turn to take center stage.

H
OLY FUCKBALLZ. PARKER WAS A
little stunned at the wild exuberance the girls ignited in the crowd. Honestly? It was awesome.

Lacey with her beguiling sweetness that spoke of something smoky and sultry just below the surface.

Victoria—the ultimate contradiction. Tiny and delicate, her feminine outer shell belied the vulgar-tongued, independent, genius within. In her case, smarts did not take a backseat to beauty.

Meghan.
Unf.
Seriously. Alex was so fucking lucky. He’d hit the damn jackpot with that lady. She was the perfect mate for his friend. With the type of curves he knew Alex drooled over, she was the ultimate sexy librarian.

And his Angel. Her dark-haired loveliness against the soft, pale beauty of her flawless skin and those sweet, kissable lips gave her a fairy tale quality that also contradicted the strong-willed woman she grew into.

Totally getting off on the whole vibe, it was fun as shit to be in the crush of bodies closest to the stage. Nothing like a packed room of people having a great time! And he was having the greatest time of all.

Abundantly aware that there was a scowling baby-faced pussy with an annoying stuck-up attitude hovering in the shadows, Parker relished being the one publically marking his territory.

He wasn’t stupid. He got why she hadn’t caused a scene and tossed the ex out on his ass. It was complicated by who he was, where he was from, and how their connection affected the Marquez family and label. The little turd could cause trouble so she was playing nice.

Didn’t change the fact that he was a loser.

It was Angie’s turn to take the lead and as she stepped up to the microphone, his heart almost stopped. From this vantage point and with the courtesy of her barely-there dress, he could almost make out the color of her undies. Glancing anxiously left and right, he checked out the reactions of Alex and Cam—relaxing when they didn’t seem to notice. Maybe he should get his damn mind out of the gutter. Ha. Fat chance of that.

He missed the first few words she said, so mesmerized was he by her long, curvaceous legs in those wicked thigh-high boots. He noted when she was dancing around that they laced up the back. Since then, he hadn’t been able to banish from his mind what she’d look like dressed in only those bad girl boots, bent over one of the padded saddle horses in the tack room, butt ass naked, being pounded from behind by his hungry cock.

“So, yeah . . .” She was chuckling. “I know all about the legend and lore of Whiskey Pete’s!”

Hoots and hollers met her comment. Straining to catch up on what he’d missed, Parker figured she must have been playing the hometown girl card.

“And now I’m back,” Angie chirped happily with a wink and a little ass shimmy, “and ready to show y’all . . .” She looked directly at him. “How the big girls get it done.”

Boom! His heart exploded in his chest and no exaggeration at all . . . Parker thought his dick might have just grown another head. Right up until that actual second, he wasn’t sure. But the big girl comment that went straight to his groin and his heart in a double shot that pretty fucking much made him feel like king of the universe.

She nailed her song—totally making the Taylor Swift tune her karaoke bitch. Singing about spaces or something like that—he didn’t know and honestly didn’t care . . . so focused was he on planning out his next move that she could have been singing about giant hairless balls, and he would barely have noticed. The ladies in the club on the other hand, sang along, dancing enthusiastically.

The boisterous bar crowd and the enthusiastic response to the girls made an energy that filled the room and filled him with an exhilaration that felt like pure adrenaline. Just about the time his fantasies started running wild, he felt a cold chill creep up his spine and tingle along the back of his neck.

Goddammit. That fucking cretin finally got off his worthless ass, did he? Parker did
not
feel like playing nice. In fact, he wanted to vault onto the stage, growl menacingly, and beat his chest at the audience, pick his Angel up, toss her sexy ass over his shoulder and drag her into the first dark, secluded, and private space he could find so he could claim what was his. Until he was buried balls deep in her sweet little body and he made her come all over his cock—she still didn’t fully belong to him. Which gave the pretty little pansy ass crowding near his shoulder a foot in the door.

Meghan noticed the minute Ronaldo crept out of the shadows and moved toward Parker. The pissing contest over who got to claim the sexy señorita singing her ass off was about to begin. The fun was about to get real.

Truly, nobody was more flabbergasted than she was when the man made his surprise appearance at the Villa. He was nothing that she expected for the ex-fiancé of her almost sister-in-law.
Nothing.

Totally unremarkable, Ronaldo Esperanza was barely
meh,
in her book. What the hell had Angie ever seen in him? He was little and smarmy and had an obsequious arrogance that creeped Meghan out.

Catching the Major’s eye was easy enough. He looked like a card-carrying super fan, hanging at the front of the stage, watching her every move. He was so friggin’ cute with his big smile and that messy hair he kept running his hands through.

One meaningful look from her though and he changed the direction of his attention, looking back over his shoulder at Aldo before elbowing Parker and giving him a chin nod. She was glad Alex was right there; in case something physical broke out, he could handle it.

Angie was playing with fire where the two men vying for her attentions were concerned. Parker had been well on his way to staking his patently obvious claim when the surprise from Madrid appeared on the scene.

Meghan executed a couple of bumps and shimmies along with Lacey and Tori while their Desert Angel started bringing the song home. They’d done a bang-up job so far—enough that Aldo’s scowl of clear disapproval made her want to scream. It wasn’t all that difficult to feel bad for Ang. She hadn’t asked for this weird complication. But it was here on their doorstep—and right royally fucking with Meghan’s bridal chi.

From her backup singer-dancer spot behind Angie, she watched while the Major wisely insinuated himself physically between Parker and Aldo, also moving Cam and Drae to anchor spots on either end of their grouping. If something broke out, the Justice boys were ready to contain the mayhem.

She couldn’t see everything going on—the stage lights made that kind of difficult—but she noted that words were exchanged. Judging by Parker’s posture, the words hadn’t been friendly. Alex had his hand on Aldo’s shoulder.
Jesus.
She hoped the stupid shmuck wasn’t foolish enough to actually challenge
any
of Angie’s protectors.

The song ended to rapturous applause. Their four numbers over, it was time for the DJ to announce the wild card song. With a quick five-minute break coming, the girls huddled together giggling and high-fiving—well pleased with their performances.

“This is fun!” Angie chirped happily. “Who knew?”

Tori roared with laughter. “We’ve got ourselves a convert, ladies!”

Not wanting to rain on their happy parade, Meghan wasn’t going to say anything about what the men were up to. There’d be plenty of time for that later. But she didn’t expect Lacey to bring it up, groaning when she did.

“So, your boyfriend looks like he’s sizing up your fiancé for a butt kicking.”

Meghan shook her head.
Ugh. Men.

Tori found this statement ridiculously funny, falling apart into a fit of giggles. “More like your boyfriend looks like he’s sizing your fiancé’s ass up for a DFP.”

Lacey looked confused. “DFP?”

Did she not know what a DFP was? Meghan groaned louder and added an eye roll at what she knew was coming. Another way that growing up surrounded by brothers and the entire Boston first responder community gave her the inside track sometimes.

“DFP,” she drawled. “Disciplinary Fudge Packing.”

It took Mrs. Cameron a good few seconds to put it together, but when she did, an amusing blush crept up her neck as she grimaced comically and said “Oh. Yikes.”

Yikes, indeed.

Studly McStudlerson waved them over to his DJ perch to give them their next song. The girls bestowed the snarky nickname on him because he was one of those man-whore cowboy types who made no effort to pretend he was anything except a pretty face with a hot bod and an available cock.

To his credit, however, he treated them with well-mannered deference. The Justice cachet extended far and wide. Nobody in their straight mind would dream of messing with any of them.

“Reaching deep into the archive for this one, ladies,” he boomed jovially. “Don’t want any finger-pointing or cries of favoritism when y’all dance away with Pete’s trophy. Can’t make it too easy, right?”

He thought they were gonna win? Hell to the yeah!

“Bring it on,” she smirked. With a wink at Angie, she pointed out, “Now that we’ve pulled out our secret weapon, I think we can make a go of whatever you throw at us.”

Lacey and Tori snickered at the challenge and burbled, “Ooooooh.”

Angie, who it turned out was fucking priceless when it came to yanking chains, put on that pigeon-toed little girl lost shtick and actually twirled a goddamn curl at Studly. From the corner of her eye, she saw Alex throw up his hands in defeat as Parker all but leaped onto the stage, ready to destroy whatever man was on the receiving end of her naughty songstress act.

Making matters worse were the two grinning hyenas, Cam and Drae, who had a grim-faced Aldo boxed in. They clearly loved the macho drama.

“Easy isn’t any fun,” Angie purred at the DJ.

Oh, god.
Meghan wanted to kill her. Now was
so
not the time to play sex kitten.

“Hard is so much better . . . don’t you think?”

Thank god the DJ laughed her off. No doubt the stern warning glare being directed his way from Angie’s glowering brother made an impact.

“My mom’s a nut for sixties girls groups,” he told them. “This one had a remake in the eighties, if that helps. I’ve loaded the tracks into the system; you can use the headphones to give a listen. Once I make the announcement, the clock starts ticking and you’ve got four minutes to pull it together. Got it?”

They all looked at the screen, and in unison, she and Angie quipped, “I’ve got this.” Of course, they did! Their mothers were probably the same age.

She quickly set up everyone’s part. Tori threw together some moves, and they were good to go.

While their four minutes ticked down, Studly was amusing the crowd and he honestly looked a bit relieved when they stepped back into the spotlight. Hurriedly handing over the mic, he whipped up the crowd then retreated to his control panel.