Honeymoon Angel: A Family Justice Novella

by Suzanne Halliday

Parker studied her face for an uncomfortable minute. Being married to a lawyer would be a lifelong challenge.

  “Define complicated.”

  Oh, shit. She shouldn’t have said anything. Angie shifted around on the large blanket to a more comfortable position. In the end, she went right back to sitting cross-legged and picked at the blanket beneath her.

  Outing her sister’s less-than-subtle behavior wasn’t something she ever wanted to do. Sophie was entitled to deal with her demons in whatever way she saw fit.

  But … Parker. He was the exception to every rule. Sharing her innermost thoughts with him was natural.

  “If you tell anyone I said this, I will be very, very mad.”

  He reached out and gently stroked the skin on her shoulder. Before pulling away, he slid his finger beneath the strap of her bathing suit and lifted it off her shoulder till it dangled.

  The distraction caught her off guard.

  “All your secrets are safe with me, Angel.” His voice had turned deep, husky, and incredibly sexy.

  She chewed on her lip. “Um, my sister has a, uh, mean streak.”

  A snort of amused laughter met her remark. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  Biting her lip until it throbbed, she wiggled on the beach blanket and grimaced. “Fuck. Okay. I’m only saying this once. She sorta, kinda, um, well not sorta. She definitely took a spin on the dance floor with what’s called revenge sex.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Yeah. Angie shared her husband’s shock. Considering her sister’s unfortunate history and the battering her mental health took as a result, vengeance fucks probably came out of left field.

  “I think it’s how she dealt with what happened. It wasn’t just the passive-aggressive bullying that did her in. It was knowing she’d been used. And that others judged her for it.”

  “Wow. I’m shocked but wanna give her mad props for being a hard ass about it. Totally fucked up way of looking at it on my part, but where your brother and I are concerned? If we’d known who fucked her over, he’d have been dealt with. Severely. I’m glad she didn’t roll over and play dead permanently.”

  “It was just a phase. Didn’t last long but my sister was a total bitch to a couple of men. I’m not even sure she actually did the deed or if she just toyed with them. Well,” she admitted with a shoulder roll, “that’s not entirely true. I know for a fact that a couple of years ago, she took the four F’s a bit too far with someone doing business with the winery. My dad found out and went apeshit.”

  “What are the four F’s?”

  Angie smirked. “Um, that’s a modern term. Probably not something an old guy would hear.”

  He flipped the other strap off her shoulder with a warning growl and tugged the top of her suit down till he’d exposed her breasts.

  “F’s. Four of them,” she teased. “Find. Feel. Fuck. Forget.”

  “Seriously?” he growled while pinching her hard nipples.

  Angie laughed and swatted his hands away. “Hey! You asked.”

  Her husband’s eyes shone with approval. “Thank you for sharing.”

  An unexpected flash of anxiety shook her. “Please don’t think badly of her.”

  “Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Thinking badly of Sophie isn’t in the cards. She’s my sister too, ya know? I’m aware of the trust she has in me. It’s mutual.”

  On impulse, she blurted out, “She knew about us, didn’t she?”

  He shrugged. “Probably. But she didn’t interfere and didn’t tell Alex. That says a lot.”

  Angie stretched out on her side and pulled on Parker’s arm until he did the same. Then she wiggled into his arms and put her head on his chest. There wasn’t anything to say so she listened to the beating of his heart and sighed. The warmth and contentment she felt in his embrace made everything right in the world.

  His hands started stroking the bare skin on her back, causing her to shiver from the tingling sensation. She bent her leg and shimmied it between his until she rode one of his muscular thighs.

  “I adore you, my sweet angel,” he softly murmured into her hair.

  She felt the shift from playful to completely serious and reacted instinctually.

  “Can we make love here, Parker?” Angie lifted her head and gazed into his beautiful eyes. “I know it’s wicked to ask while we’re out in the open in broad daylight.”

  His gaze held so much love that her breath caught.

  “I know that’s not what you had planned.” She smirked ever so slightly. “There’s no way a sandbar seduction was left to chance. Am I right?”

  “You are correct, my love. But not the way you might think. We’re honeymooners, so every damn second of the day is a planned seduction. But what I had in mind for this moment will be perfectly suited for making slow, deep, powerful love to my beautiful wife.”

  She looked around. “Being surrounded by water makes this feel like our very own island.”

  “A fabulous memory.”

  After a short kiss, she stood and wiggled out of her suit. Making sure her Tiare flower remained in place, she readied for her husband’s possession. He held out his hand and drew her onto the blanket.

  Beneath a cloudless blue sky in a lush, fragrant tropical paradise, he took them on an erotic journey that culminated with him slowly and deeply stroking her to a spine-tingling climax that made her sob from the beauty of it.

  The memory they made was too beautiful for words.

  Clinging to him in the aftermath, he wiped away her tears and reminded her again and again how much he loved her—had always loved her.

  Though she couldn’t explain how or why, Angie’s secret heart of hearts was confident that their incredible love story found fertile ground inside her body. The baby she longed for would make his or her presence known in due course. For now, she just wanted to love the man who held her heart and soul.

  This was their time, and the two of them were all that mattered.

  HE COULDN’T REMEMBER ever feeling so happy or so completely content. The gods were smiling down on him and his naughty lover. His angel baby who was now, and forever would be, his wife.

  They’d dodged a couple of deadly bullets—the kind that could destroy a relationship. And they’d come out on the other side stronger because of it. Maybe their love needed the struggle for it to survive.

  Now, they were as one. His mother’s favorite word—simpatico—came to mind. He and Angie had always shared a bone-deep compatibility that would serve them well in the years ahead.

  A small bonfire blazed on the beach between their loungers and the water. The resort staff waited on them hand and foot, knowing exactly how to diplomatically handle a honeymoon couple overcome by passionate exuberance.

  Was he tired? Fuck, yeah. His decade younger wife still had the energy of a teenager and was more than capable of running at full speed for an entire day.

  They snorkeled in the calm, crystal clear water. He’d worn a unique face mask outfitted with an underwater camera, and she’d made sure to laugh and point at him while submerged. She’d also signed the word ‘dork’—something Parker hoped he’d caught on video.

  Their tour of the island’s shoreline in an outrigger canoe turned his spirited mate into an irrepressible kid. She was so damn delighted with every little thing that even their guide had a few good laughs.

  They did some vigorous kayaking, had a paddle board adventure, and a curtailed attempt at spear fishing that quickly ended after his wife freaked out when she accidentally speared a fish. That particular moment was classic Angie. Her competitiveness meant she gave everything a try, but killing a fish wasn’t on her list of acceptable activities. He’d tried not to laugh when she cried over the damn fish but was woefully unsuccessful. She’d reacted in true spitfire fashion and subjected him to an outrageous accusation of barbarism while delivering a verbal dressing down in front of an attendant who was also trying not to laugh. Parker suspected the resort staff had seen this very sc
enario acted out many times. Wives were notoriously squeamish about such things.

  After a second lunch, they had a thoroughly satisfying interlude of secluded, under-the-sun lovemaking.

  By the time their island helpers had set up and served a five-star gourmet meal created by their honeymoon chef, Parker was sure they’d gone to heaven.

  And now the sun was dipping lower in the sky, their beach bonfire crackled and popped, and they were alone once more after the staff had cleared out.

  Angie was sitting on a colorful outdoor ottoman with his guitar in her lap. He reclined on a lounge, relaxing to the sound of his beloved’s voice and the melodic thrum of the instrument.

  He laughed when she sang their wedding song, changing the words with a nod at the sunset to, “There goes the sun.”

  A satisfied grin moved onto his face when he remembered the package Johann had handed off before leaving. He had a surprise for his young wife; something he made happen by moving heaven and earth.

  The only glitch in the whole day came by way of an offhand comment made by Johann that triggered a feeling of unease. He’d informed Parker that an Alex Marquez had checked in with the resort. Not to speak with them but just to confirm their departure details.

  It was a nothing update, but it made him worry. He had a satellite phone for emergencies, and it connected directly to Alex. The man knew perfectly well when they were returning. They’d discussed the arrangements several times with Parker shrugging off his friend’s offer to have Sawyer come get them when they returned to the mainland via Los Angeles. Seemed a bit odd to him that Alex would inquire.

  When her song finished, Angie stood and placed the guitar in its case. He saw her fingers stroke the beautiful wood. She appreciated the glorious sound it made as much as he did.

  Twirling her sarong above her head, she playfully danced around the fire and started a nonsensical chant about baby making that got him up and off the lounge chair to join her pagan romp. Hooting and hollering to the heavens about making babies was so completely in their quirky wheelhouse that he couldn’t wait to join in.

  Parker thumped his chest and declared his beastly responsibilities in the baby-making scheme—much to Angie’s delight.

  “I bring you my cock!” he yelled at the top of his lungs.

  She shrieked with laughter and giggles while loudly proclaiming his cock’s worthiness. He’d never laughed so hard in all his life. Something was either crazy wrong with them or completely right.

  He morphed into a raunchy poet, proclaiming to the night sky all the places and ways he intended to fuck her.

  She called on the goddesses of old for the skills to satisfy his sexual desires. He liked that part because he was a chauvinist pig at heart. Then she flipped a switch and became smartass Angie by asking the universe to help her dumb shlub of a husband understand that a clitoris is not an off-on switch.

  He very nearly tackled her to the sand after that.

  Eventually, they moved their silliness indoors so he could give full rein to the seduction he knew she hoped for.

  Insisting on a chance to freshen up—alone—she allowed him time to get some things prepared. He had more presents and surprises plus one very special reveal she was sure to flip over.

  The sound of the hair dryer alerted him to her impending return. Everything was in place and ready. He had a wife to love and a baby to make.

  The black silk lounge pants he slid on felt like a sexy glove that did absolutely nothing to hide his persistent erection.

  When he heard her feet on the teak floorboards, he popped the cork on a bottle of her favorite champagne. The bright smile on her face when she stepped into the opulent living room with the open windows and outdoor views told him she heard the clarion call of the chilled bubbly and was eager to partake.

  She was also completely naked and carrying the gardenia she’d worn in her hair.

  “You didn’t say what I could wear, and since I don’t have anything anyway,” she said with a cute shrug and no further explanation. He grinned like a complete idiot and didn’t care how goofy he might look.

  Parker held out his hand to her and said, “Come here.”

  She glided to his side and took his hand. He took it and kissed her palm before slowly working his lips and tongue along the sensitive inner skin of her arm. She was trembling when he drew away.

  Taking the flower from her unsteady grip, he placed it on a table and then gave her a little spin. He lifted her hair and moved it over her shoulder and out of his way. Then with sure fingers, he undid the handmade cord honeymoon collar. She growled and shook her head when he took it off.

  Kissing her exposed neck, he licked her skin and murmured, “Don’t worry, baby girl. I know what you want.”

  He stepped in front of her and said, “Wait here,” before turning to the chair where he’d placed a couple of things.

  The box wrapped in the mauve paper had a beautiful silk ribbon bow. She smiled shyly during the careful unwrapping. Every time her feet shifted, Parker was aware of the arousal she was struggling to control.

  He held the unwrapped box so she could lift the lid. At first, she didn’t react, but then she lifted the delicate French lace negligee free of the paper and went into meltdown mode.

  He’d done well, and judging by her reaction, he had done more than well.

  When he recited the gown’s description by heart, his knowledge made her smile. Angie liked when a gift wasn’t just a gift. She needed a connection, and by knowing what he was giving her, he delighted her.

  In his best fashion show announcer voice, he drawled, “This elegant, sweeping hem French lace gown with a silk ribbon tie has a deep V plunge in the back and a scandalously low bodice. Matching panties and a robe await you at home.”

  She sighed as he helped her slip on the delicate lace. It was mostly see-through and displayed her sexy attributes perfectly.

  He placed the Tiare flower behind her left ear and then drew her attention to a jewelry box. A large jewelry box.

  His chest suddenly expanded from a surplus of emotion. “For my wife,” he murmured.

  Cracking the lid open slowly, he built the anticipation until the light caught the stones, and there was no mistaking what the box held.

  “Oh, Parker.” She sighed with a gasp. Her hands clasped together in the center of her chest. She trembled visibly.

  He removed the delicate gold necklace with the diamond encrusted heart pendant and placed it around her neck. The chain was short, giving the necklace a distinctive collar look without inviting unwanted speculation.

  Her skin was incredibly soft. Parker caressed her neck and cheeks. She responded with a hushed purr. She turned in his arms and pressed against him.

  “Only we know what the necklace signifies.” He kissed her forehead. “You may wear it as you please.”

  The way she smiled into his eyes warmed Parker. “I have something for you too.” She patted his chest and then dashed to the bedroom with the hem of her sexy gown swirling about her legs.

  The leather pouch she dropped into his hand when she came back intrigued him. He opened it and dumped something into his palm. At first, he thought it was a pair of dog tags until he held it up and she filled in the blanks.

  “The chain is tungsten carbide steel. Nearly unbreakable. And a key.”

  He nodded when a thickness clogged his throat. The masculine ball chain and key had as much symbolism as her collar did. The carbide steel was almost as strong as their love, and the key represented her willing submission. Slipping it over his head, Parker held the key to his heart and swallowed the emotion, making it hard to breathe.

  “Have I told you lately how fucking incredible you are?” he asked.

  She held up the hand wearing his rings. “Every day.”

  Wrapping her arms around his neck, his wife placed wet, warm kisses on his throat and shoulders. She was content to move things to the next level, but he wasn’t through with the surprises. Not yet.r />
  Leading her by the hand, he took her to the sofa and had her sit. She didn’t disappoint with her straight-backed posture, crossed legs, and demure placement of her hands in her lap. Angelina Sullivan was a lady with the soul of a wanton.

  Taking his sweet time, he gathered the champagne, two glasses, and a plate of gorgeous looking fruit before lowering the lights. He poured them each a glass and offered hers while juggling a remote control.

  “To my bride. My sunshine.”

  When he touched her glass with his, the tinkling of the crystal lingered on the soft night breeze. Then he sat next to her and flipped on the entertainment system.

  “I hate one-sided stuff. Don’t you?”

  Her eyebrows bumped with confusion. She took a long sip and then chuckled. “Oh. You’re talking about point of view, right?”

  Right on cue, a professionally edited video appeared on the screen. The title sequence read “The Wedding of Angelina Marquez and Parker Sullivan.” She gasped and did a butt-hopping wiggle.

  “We have a wedding video?”

  “Yes. Now be quiet and pay attention.”

  She put her glass down, wrapped her arms around one of his, and held on tight.

  The beginning featured a photograph taken on the grand stairway at the Villa with Angie, his mother, her mother, Sophia, and Meghan.

  The next was a candid shot—one he assumed came courtesy of his father or Uncle Cris—showing him in mid meltdown during a phone conversation. Half dressed, his shirt was hanging open, and a harried expression displayed on his face with those telltale anger veins popping on his neck.

  “Groomzilla,” Angie said with a snicker.

  Then a series of video vignettes that memorably served up some of the antics and amusing behaviors of Family Justice played out.

  Bella twirling in a circle as her dress swished.

  His mom and Aunt Ash watching Angie with their arms twined and heads together.

  Alex with his head thrown back and a belly laugh in progress.

  Meghan, Lacey, Sophie, and Stephanie in a semi-circle with their pregnant bellies touching.

  Parker wanted to watch his angel’s expression, but he got absorbed in the video as a rush of happy memories and an avalanche of feels slammed into his senses.