Desert Angel (Family Justice Book 2) (5 page)

Hmph,
must be nice to have a man who was willing to explore the temptations of civilized debauchery within the confines of a real relationship. She had that once upon a time or, at least she thought she had, until an unexpected and particularly painful reality check had set her straight.

And, of course,
that
thought brought memories of Parker Sullivan screaming full tilt boogie into her head.
Pfft.
Why the hell not? After all, he was the real reason she’d avoided coming home. Pretending otherwise would be more deceit than denial.

As soon as Alex announced that he was getting married, Angie knew the years of staying away were numbered. She hadn’t been wrong. And now, here she was, on a brilliantly bright day traveling along the deeply rural ranch roads and by-ways of her beloved Arizona. She was . . . home.
At last.

Angie sighed dreamily. When Meghan asked for her help as event planner for the O’Brien~Valleja-Marquez nuptials, it was a dream come true. Sure, she did events, launches, and all of the PR for the Marquez family vineyard and winery and had entertained aristocrats and farm workers alike but a society wedding? Woo-hoo!

Thanks to Meghan’s phenomenal vision for the uniquely old-fashioned sacrament that would join their two families, Angie had been given the rare opportunity to design an event blending two cultures that could not have been more different.

She giggled and shook her head, reaching up to snag a long strand of soft dark hair that she twined around her fingers as she thought about the proud Irish family from Boston who boasted generations of community minded folk. Angie loved Meghan’s gruff but loving policeman dad who unabashedly adored his only daughter. As the wedding plans took shape, she’d had countless conversations with Paddy O’Brien and Maggie, his wife. They were the real deal, those two.

The old, stately Boston church where her Uncle Eduardo would officiate the marriage ceremony was the epitome of romantic settings. The stained glass windows were magnificent and the dark wood overtones along with the gray stone walls were the perfect canvas for a planner’s dream location.

Out of an abundance of respect for Meghan’s family, the Marquez clan was bypassing Arizona entirely in favor of congregating in and around Beantown in the weeks prior to the big day. And it wasn’t going to be just her parents and sister, either. All of the Valleja-Marquez cousins, aunts, and uncles were going to attend. Their side of the church would be overflowing once all the family friends and those important to the winery and vineyard were added to the mix. It was going to be one hell of a party.

Her eyes turned toward the window and she gazed at the distinctive Southwest rock formations out in the distance. The low shrubs running alongside the road were every imaginable shade of an earthy tone beneath a brilliant, cloudless blue sky—a far cry from the lush, verdant Spanish hillsides where she’d been hiding away.

A sharp pain tore through her—tears suddenly stinging her eyes.
Shit.
She missed this. It was her home, after all. But did she belong here after all this time? Could she stop running long enough to let her beloved Southwest creep back inside her soul?

Parker.
Oy.
Every question she asked or memory she had involved him. Was it the desert she missed and yearned for, or was it him? Was this her home or was it simply where he was? Truth was . . . she didn’t know anymore.

Wasting a year of her life engaged to Ronaldo Esperanza had shown her that saying she was over Parker and meaning it were two entirely different matters. The business-like way she and Ronaldo decided to marry had been as passionless and humdrum as the underlying relationship.

In a last-ditch desperate attempt to wipe Parker out of her heart and mind once and for all, she’d sold herself on the cheap. Not her finest moment. Once the engagement was official, she’d dragged her feet about everything. She didn’t want a ring, but he demanded that she wear his grandmother’s ruby—a big, ugly hunk of junk she hated.

Aldo also expected her to immediately set up housekeeping with him, away from the winery where she maintained a private apartment in an old two-story gatehouse she shared with her sister, Sophia.

Angie didn’t want to play the role he was laying out for her and objected at every opportunity. She was a modern girl and a career-oriented woman who wasn’t about keeping house and burping babies. At least, not with him. She had a degree in International Business, spoke three languages, knew her way around royalty, and would have made a kickass diplomat. She was well versed in modern wine-making and helped run a centuries-old vineyard and winery that supported a highly respected family label.

Cooking dinner and doing laundry for a man who basically sat on his ass all day while schmoozing on the phone just wasn’t going to happen. His proud, aristocratic family needed the infusion of new Spanish blood that a marriage would bring. The Esperanzas might need her, but she sure as shit didn’t need them. Once she came to her senses, it wasn’t long before she admitted to barely being able to tolerate Aldo.

What had she been thinking? Simple answer. That entire year that she played the fiancée had been a direct result of feeling rejected by Parker for a second time. When his dad, her Uncle Matt, had had a heart attack, her parents immediately flew back to the States with Angie in tow to be with their friends. For two long weeks, while Angie anxiously hovered on the sidelines, Parker ignored, avoided, and generally blew off any contact with her. Not even a glance down a long hallway. There had been nothing.

As the car made a familiar turn and started down the long drive to the Villa, Angie fidgeted like crazy while her conscience snickered. Okay.
So maybe there was a glance.
Well, actually more than a glance. More like an ocular screening worthy of the Feds.

She’d seen him through the glass of a hospital door when he’d been deep in a conversation. Angie felt a gentle thrill race inside her recalling how he’d looked. He was so big. And oh, my god, those shoulders—that face. His posture had been straight and rigid. He had looked sad and to her remembered horror that sadness had her considering going to him so she could lend him some strength. But she had come to her senses and ran—remembering that he wouldn’t welcome her comfort.

Rattled by the flood of memories and anxious to put her feet on the desert ground, she gathered herself—eyes drinking in familiar sites. Ah, nothing like that feeling of coming home and . . .
wait
. . . what the hell was that?

Craning her neck when the car eased by, she saw another big sign. A construction entrance? What the hell? That certainly wasn’t familiar.

And then there it was, the winding driveway with the majestic Valleja-Marquez Villa at the end. It was so postcard Spanish hacienda perfect that she laughed and clapped her hands together with unashamed glee. Home. She was home!

As the big car came to a slow halt, she was ready to bolt the second she could. When she sensed that the car was in park, Angie was off and running.

The Villa!

Oh, my god!

The trees, the flowers. It was all just so damn beautiful. And the smell. Goddamn, she loved that smell.

She raced toward the timeworn archway with the distinctive iron gates that to her knowledge had never been closed. Angie wanted to hug the trees and caress every bloom. Smiling, she turned her face to the sky and breathed deeply. Everything was going to be all right. She was older. Wiser. Would make better decisions this time around. It was time she sorted her shit out, and coming here was the only way that could happen.

Her reverie was stopped by the sound of the massive wood door to the main house opening and then she was running at full speed. Alex! Oh, my god! It was Alex!

Launching into him at the last second, he caught her in an exuberant embrace and swung her around like she was a rag doll.

“Baby girl!” her brother boomed with glee. “Welcome home, darlin’.”

Angie couldn’t help herself. They’d all come so perilously close to losing him. In the years since, some of that anxiety had lessened, but the intense love she had for her complex older brother was overwhelming. Letting him crush her in a fierce hug, she clung to his shoulders and thanked the angels for saving his life.

“Alexander,” she choked out with a final squeeze before he let her go. Getting a good look at him up close, Angie burst into giggles at his bemused expression.

“What? Have I grown antlers or something?”

Angie was stunned by how happy he looked. He was relaxed and smiling. Okay, he was still Alex but a lot less of a mess. His hair, which always bore that freshly rumpled look, was now cut in a way that made the disheveled mess into an actual style. In short, Alexander Marquez looked like a content man. She saw no hint of the devastating injuries that ended his military career. Instead of pain and frustration in his eyes, she found joy. Her heart was full to bursting.
Meghan.
She brought him back. Oh. My. God. Where was the woman she owed everything to?

“No antlers, brother. I’m just so happy to see your moldy old ass.”

“Says the sassy bitch who’s staring at thirty,” he taunted. “You’re the one getting older, baby girl. Not me! I’m getting better with age.”

She slapped him on the shoulder and tried a shove, which only made him laugh. “Angie.
Baby.
It’s good to see you.”

She beamed. Alex—her hero.

“Not a baby anymore according to you! And for the record, thirty doesn’t scare me at all. In fact, I’m thinking about getting a tattoo to mark the occasion.”

He burst out laughing. “Oh shit, Ang! A tattoo? Mom will fucking kill you!”

“
Hehehe.
Not if she doesn’t know,” she chuckled.

Grabbing her hand, Alex barked, “Come on,” and yanked her along as he made his way through the large foyer and headed toward the kitchen. Keeping up with him was immediately a problem. With each big step he took, she stumbled with two or three.

“Whoa, big brother! Slow down, okay? These boots were made for
walking,
not running.”

“Oh, my bad,” he murmured as he slowed. “But come on, hurry the fuck up.”

Good grief, the asshole was actually tugging on her arm. “What’s got your shorts in a bunch?”

Wait a minute! Was that a pile of sugar donuts piled high on a stoneware platter? Angie twisted in Alex’s grasp, pointing back over her shoulder.

“Were those donuts?” Angie’s sweet tooth was legendary. She’d never met a sugary treat that she didn’t immediately fall in love with.

“Later,” he drawled, pulling her along. At the big rustic doors that opened onto the private patio, he finally stopped and let her go. Smiling as he pushed open a door, he told her, “Get ready,” then guided her through the archway.

The enclosed patio surrounded by garden walls and the backside of the family villa was another picturesque-perfect spot that held many happy memories. Of her aristocratic grandparents who brought the crumbling villa back to life and the countless times they’d all gathered in this very courtyard. Her parents, Uncle Eduardo, Sophie, Alex. It was familiar and heartwarming to be there again.

Standing near the fireplace with a nervous looking half-smile was someone who Angie knew immediately. She heard Alex proudly announce, “Angelina Marquez, this—
this
is the love of my life. Meghan, come here, baby. Meet my little sister.”

And just like that, Angie felt herself mentally handing off the
baby
endearment she was used to and finally becoming just the little sister.

As Meghan came forward, Angie was a little stunned. They’d video chatted a thousand times, shared endless pictures, so she’d know her brother’s fiancée anywhere. But seeing her in person for the first time? Holy shit. No wonder Alex was practically aglow. He got himself a bona fide beauty with curves that went on for miles and a face framed by a riot of rich auburn curls. She was tall and gorgeous—the perfect fit for Alex.

“Angie,” Meghan said warmly. “Welcome home. I’m
soooo
glad you’re here.”

She glanced briefly at Alex and exploded with joy. The way he looked at Meghan was just so freakin’ adorable.

Walking into the woman’s embrace, they hugged like sisters, rocking back and forth, laughing happily.

“Damn, Red,” Angie giggled quietly so her brother wouldn’t hear. “I love you already but seeing that shit-eating look and him all but chest thumping his satisfaction? Priceless, lady. I’m in your debt forever.”

Meghan sighed and snickered at the same time, whispering, “He’s a handful.”

Leaning in for a two-cheek kiss, Angie murmured, “You’re going to have to share your secret with me. That’s a happy man, Meghan.”

Boom! And just like that, it was two gals knee deep in a gab sesh and Alex was essentially forgotten. Looping her arm through Angie’s, Meghan started walking them into the house while her brother stood aside looking adorably baffled.

“All the cases and packages you sent are in your suite. Ben will bring your bags up, won’t he, sweetheart,” she said to Alex as they passed by. It was a statement not a question and Angie nearly fell over laughing at how domestic these two were and how clearly Meghan ruled the roost.

She had to admit. This kind of surprised her. Alex was always the leader of the pack and had the military record to prove it. To say he liked control was the mother of all understatements. It had taken less than thirty seconds to realize that where this fantastic lady was concerned, her brother was in total crap-your-pants style awe.

And then Meghan did something that brought their completely charming relationship into focus. Sliding from Angie’s arm, she backed up a few steps and wound herself around Alex. The rather possessive way he grabbed his fiancée’s ass was pretty damn telling.

“Thank you, baby,” she overheard Meghan purr just before they fell into a steamy kiss that was so mesmerizing it was difficult to look away. One hand grabbing ass and the other gripping the back of her head—Angie rolled her eyes at the sight. Now,
there
was the Alex she knew.

“Oh Christ, bro. Let her up for air, would you?” Angie sniped with feigned exasperation. “And let go of the leash too. I promise not to let her run into traffic, okay?”