Desert Angel (Family Justice Book 2)
Read Desert Angel (Family Justice Book 2) Online
Authors: Suzanne Halliday
Tags: #A Family Justice Novel
DESERT ANGEL—A Family Justice Novel
Copyright © 2015 by Suzanne Halliday
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only
All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by an means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.
This book is meant for mature readers who are 18+. It contains explicit language, and graphic sexual content.
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Table of Contents
Other Books by Suzanne Halliday
This book is dedicated to every reader who enthusiastically embraced Family Justice.
Every word herein is written with love and a heart full of gratitude.
I never dreamed with Cameron’s story, when those complex, endearing Justice Brothers were first introduced, how exhilarating and challenging this ride would be.
From the bottom of my heart, I want to thank you for loving these characters as much as I do.
Suzanne Halliday
“Y
OU’RE ABOUT THE ONLY PERSON
I know who can turn a simple steak dinner into a nonstop—and
very
boring—comedy routine. Can you stop with the moo-ing? Please?”
“Why the hell should I when I know it annoys the shit out of you? Someday that eye-rolling head shake of yours is going to freeze in mid-motion and then, dude,
I’ll
be the one laughing!”
Alex couldn’t help it. He rolled his eyes, shook his head, and added some smirking side shade at the end for shits ‘n’ grins. It was always like this when he and Parker Sullivan got together. More than just the oldest of friends, they’d known each other far too long for superficial bullshit.
And, as his sexy-as-fuck Irish goddess, the one he was blissfully engaged to, would say, this was the
sit down and be serious
portion of the program.
Thinking about Meghan, Alex shifted uneasily in his seat. Something was up with her but figuring out what was as elusive as stumbling upon a leprechaun. In the desert.
Their meal was cleared away, and the two friends were enjoying a glass of Port before falling face first into their dessert. Parker chose a slice of creamy cheesecake that was the size of his fat head and would come out on a platter instead of a plate, drizzled with a local favorite . . . saguaro syrup. The man had an insatiable sweet tooth.
“So,” Parker drawled in that laid-back way he was so good at. “Ready to let me in on what this get-together was really all about?”
After refilling his glass from the hoggett decanter to his left, Alex passed it along to Parker. The unusual Port ritual had always been a part of their shared history. He blamed his family’s wine-making heritage and the Sullivan’s close relationship to the Valleja-Marquez clan.
“How ‘bout we make a toast first?”
Parker did that other thing he did so well—blank stare Alex with a crooked smirk.
Jeez. Some things never change.
“You mean like—
Here’s to our women and horses—may both be ridden hard and put away wet.”
Cue the eye roll. Alex tried not to snicker, but it was no use. Running his fingers through his hair and not caring that with that one movement, he’d made a mess of it, Alex muttered, “Man, you are fucking hopeless,” while his friend grunted his agreement.
“
Pfft,
just coming to that conclusion now? You really are one dumb motherfucker, Marquez.”
Holding his glass slightly aloft, Alex enjoyed the clear tawny color of the exceptional wine for a brief moment and then tipped his glass in a toast.
“To friendship. The ones that last.”
“Hear, hear,” Parker concurred. “And may I add that I’m damn glad we both made it.”
They sipped their Port in companionable silence, Alex organizing his thoughts and Parker waiting him out. In that regard, his friend had an edge. Patiently waiting, letting the silence build . . . wasn’t that a lawyer requirement?
Across from them, an older couple appeared to really enjoy their dinner. Alex noticed them right away. They were hard to miss. Instead of sitting across from each other, the elderly man with the distinguished air sat close to his beautiful gray-haired companion while the woman beamed.
He liked the way their heads moved close when they whispered to each other and how the woman’s shoulders shook when she laughed.
To say he’d been shocked when the old man’s hand drifted to the leg of his companion was an understatement. When he spied the old codger slowly pulling his lady’s dress up and slide his hand beneath, Alex nearly choked on his food.
God.
He hoped that he and Meghan were like that fifty years from now. Still with the naughty talk and forever with his hand doing things in public that made her blush. But he had to stop daydreaming and remember why they were there.
“Look,” he finally said, leaning forward, elbows resting on the table as he toyed with his glass. “There’s something I want to talk to you about.”
“You’re not going to start whining about that fucking prenup again are you? ‘Cause I’ll tell you what, buddy—we may be the oldest of friends and all, but putting my neck on the line with your woman is asking too much. She scares the piss out of me when she gets going.” Parker chuckled.
“Jesus! When did you become such a pussy? Isn’t putting it all out there what you badass lawyer types get paid to do?”
“Tell me something,” Parker countered with an evil sneer. “When was the last time you didn’t fold immediately when Meghan made that face at you? And don’t play stupid, man. You
know
what face I’m talking about.”
