Sanctuary (Family Justice Book 3) (62 page)

Tori reached over and patted her hand. “No worries, Irish. I’ve got my proper lady hat on,” she quipped with a nod at Lacey.

Angie topped their glasses with the Pinot their waiter recommended.

Tori took a small sip. “My life was a complete shit show when I came to Justice and met Alex for the first time. I remember that the compound was in a dither over Cameron and Lacey’s wedding. But Alex?” She chuckled. “Boy, he really earned the Big Daddy title.”

Meghan felt a happy glow. It meant everything to her that her best friends were Alex’s biggest supporters.

“I showed up one afternoon and had about thirty seconds to get settled before he started throwing work my way. It struck me as kind of odd that this big, hulking man completely immersed himself in a wedding that wasn’t his. But he had this huge, soft spot when it came to a certain Ponytail. I was there, you know,” she said to Lacey. “In the tech cave, when you asked him to walk you down the aisle.” Lacey smiled and sniffed. “I knew then what an amazing man this Alexander Marquez was.”

A glance at Angie revealed how she struggled to keep it together. The hero worship she had for her big brother was unbreakable. In her eyes, Alex was a king and a movie-star superhero and a god all rolled into one.

“Getting to know the new Mrs. Cameron, I started to see what I missed out on by being an only child. And then,” Tori said, “one day this redhead with Hollywood bombshell curves dropped by the Villa for lunch. Bet you didn’t know,” she quipped with a wink as she looked at Meghan. “That Lace and I were there while you and the Major sat on the terrace.”

“And let me guess.” She chuckled. “Carmen was a wellspring of information, right?”

“You know her. Loyal to the core. She didn’t say much, but she certainly said enough. We knew right then and there that Big Daddy was going down.”

It all seemed like so long ago, but in fact, an entire year hadn’t passed yet. Amazing. “You kept me from bailing when things got weird.”

“Torn dress straps, missing undies, and scraped knees. You mean that time?” Tori snickered. “My god, you were a mess.”

They nodded at each other. What Tori referred to was the moment when she knew that fighting for what she wanted was going to change the course of her life.

“And now look,” she continued. “You guys survived a huge storm and with the power of your love, you helped him be the man he wanted to be. You bring peace to his soul, Meghan. He tells my husband all the time that he didn’t know it was possible to be this happy.”

“Cameron seconds,” Lacey added. “He told me not long ago that he actually wasn’t sure Alex was gonna make it until you came along.”

Meghan sniffed, but it was too late. The tears were already overflowing and she could feel her nose starting to run.

Victoria stood and held her glass up. “So Meghan Elizabeth O’Brien. Thank god the road brought you to our little corner of the desert.”

“Hear, hear,” Lacey said.

“To our Irish sister, may you always have shelter from the storm, tea beside the fire, laughter to cheer you, the love of all you hold most dear, and everything your heart desires. May you and Alex enjoy a love that never ends.”

Angie and Lacey stood at Victoria’s side. Together, the three of them said, “We love you,” and—
wham
—the tears flowed like a river down her face.

Much later, after too much wine and definitely too much food, they finally stopped when dessert pushed them over the edge.

“I’ll never fit in my dress if we keep this up.”

When Lacey belched and covered her mouth in embarrassment, they all nearly fell forward, face-first onto the table with laughter.

“Well said, Ponytail,” Angie drawled.

“I have something for you,” Meghan told them.

“Oh, god,” Tori groaned. “Please. No scones. I’m stuffed.”

From her big Vuitton bag, she pulled three wrapped gifts and slid them to each of the girls. “I hope you like them.”

Angie looked surprised. As her wedding planner, she knew everything—but she didn’t know about this. Making quick work of the wrapping, they tore into the boxes and gasped in unison.

Tori growled, “Holy fuckballs.”

Lacey. Dear, sweet Lacey looked at her wide-eyed. “Are these real?”

Angie clutched a hand to her heart. “Red. My god.”

“The Major helped me pick them out.”

“Seriously?” Tori questioned.

Meghan smiled at each of them. “Yep. Went into a store and everything.”

She wasn’t sure which was better. Alex’s serious perusal of every goddamn pair of earrings in the store or the reactions from her friends when they saw the delicate pearl dangles topped with a cluster of dazzling diamonds. “It means everything to us that you’ll be standing by our sides in the church. We just wanted you to know that and to say thank you for helping us get here. I’m not sure if we’d been left to figure it out by ourselves if we’d have made it this far.”

“How’d it go?”

They were walking toward the hotel elevator, Meghan’s hand clasped in his as she sashayed across the marble floor in a pair of shoes he was positive were made to fuck with his head.

“Oh, the usual.” She smiled. “Angelina went too far. Victoria’s mouth got off its leash, and Lacey got whiplash from all the eye rolling and head shaking.”

“Did they like the earrings?” He led her to the elevator and took care of entering their floor on the keypad before taking her in his arms. He liked talking while he held her. She felt so good pressed along his front.

He recognized the mischief in her sly smile when she told him, “Eh. Didn’t make much of an impression till I told them you picked ‘em out.”

Alex was in mid-smile when she made a real pout that stopped him in his tracks. “I feel bad that Sophie wasn’t part of things. As your sister, she really should be in the wedding party.”

“I told you, baby. Don’t get all upset and worried about her. She made it clear from the get-go that she wasn’t up for being a bridesmaid.”

“I know,” she murmured. “But … the earrings and-”

He swiftly interrupted and shut down the Sophia noise in her head. “No buts, Meghan. Remember what I told you. This isn’t about us and how we feel. Sophie needs a different approach. Just by respecting her wishes and not trying to change her mind, you’ve brought her to your side, and that’s fucking huge. If you want, we can get her something special too. How’s that?”

“Oh, okay.” She gave in, but he could tell she wasn’t happy about it.

The elevator opened, and they went hand-in-hand to the door of the suite. He listened to the cadence of their footsteps along the hallway and watched her walk in those damnably sexy shoes.

“Somebody teased me with a surprise earlier. I’m still waiting.” He chortled.

“Yeah, and you tried to turn it into something dirty.”

Oookay.
So this wasn’t about being coy. She was serious. Got it.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “You get a free ‘shut up’ to redeem at a time of your choosing.”

Meghan wasted no time once they were in the privacy of his room. Pulling a small leather box out of the ridiculously expensive bag she carried, she then dropped the luxury item, totally forgotten, onto the floor.

He loved that about her. She had the money to indulge in anything she wanted, but if it weren't for the dog and pony show of their wedding, they’d be lounging around in their shit clothes. And if she had a purse at all, it’d be some beat-up thing that could survive being thrown around in the desert. The money meant nothing to her.

Taking his hand, she led him to the sofa and sat him down while she stayed standing. “I know we said no presents so think of this as your part of the something old and something new tradition.”

After briefly holding the box to her chest, she handed it off to him. “I want you to have this.” She had his attention now.

The square box was made of brown leather that looked quite old. In the corner was a small, gold embossed emblem that he did not recognize. Looking at her face, Alex saw the light in her eyes and felt the gravity of the moment. Whatever this was, she gave it from her heart.

Carefully lifting the lid, he was floored when the contents were revealed. Nestled in a velvet holder was a Celtic heart lapel pin and a pocket watch, both gold and of obvious age.

“Meghan,” he ground out as unnamable emotion swept over him.

“They were my grandfather’s,” she said with a sigh. “Open it.”

He couldn’t believe that his fingers were shaking, but they were. Her grandfather’s? Holy shit. Prying open the watch case, he found a flourish of engraving that spelled out the name, Aidan O’Brien. He was speechless.

“My grandmother left it to me. She said if I ever found someone as honorable and family-loving as her Aidan to marry, I was to give them to my husband as a reminder of where I come from.”

Shit, he was going to cry. He took the old lapel pin and stuck it on his jacket. Then while she watched him with a soulful smile, he attached the chain to a button on his suit vest and slipped the watch into a pocket.

Fighting back the tears, he didn’t try to say anything—just put out his hand for her to take, and when she did, Alex pulled her gently and with a reverence that felt natural on his lap and wrapped his arms around her.

They stayed like that in silence, holding each other tight long into the night.

“I
’M EXHAUSTED,” SOPHIE
announced right before she flopped like a rag doll onto the sofa.

Heather watched her collapse and wished she could follow suit. They’d spent most of the day being pampered, massaged, manicured, pedicured, toasted with an abundance of champagne, and then cut, blow dried, and styled.

She was rocking a fabulous new cut that made her long hair bounce and sway with every movement and her nails were polished more beautifully than she thought possible. Exhausted? Yep. But also, giddy with excitement and delight. It had been a long, long time since she’d indulged in an extravagant spa day.

Being swept along with the bride’s posse of ladies and female family members, she felt like the odd gal out for all of a nanosecond. She’d been enthusiastically embraced from the moment this odd adventure started and was touched that everyone included her as if she’d always been part of the tribe. It felt awfully good and went a long way to erasing her fears.

Ashleigh Marquez was bustling with Meghan’s mom, dashing back and forth from the kitchen to the parlor, bringing a bunch of fruit on a platter, a couple of carafes that smelled like coffee, and a round tray overflowing with home-baked cookies.

“Sustenance.” Sophie chuckled. Grabbing two cookies, she poured a cup of the steaming coffee then returned to the sofa. “What the hell is on the agenda for tonight? Ang?”

Taking a stem of grapes, Heather stuffed her mouth and said nothing. She was curious how Angelina was going to explain. Brody finally opened up and told her what to expect from the rehearsal dinner so when not a whiff of conspiracy wafted through the room, she was impressed. These women knew how to keep a frickin’ secret.

She watched Mrs. Marquez as she sat in a big overstuffed chair. Immaculately dressed, she favored soft, sexy fabrics that made the most of her petite stature and draped herself with all sorts of scarves and dusters and who the fuck knew what else. The style was what the fashion mags dubbed ‘60s Boho Chic, and she pulled it off like someone born to represent her generation. The suede platform boots with the impressive heels made Heather jealous as fuck. She’d always been drawn to that look but never had the nerve to try.