Honeymoon Angel: A Family Justice Novella

by Suzanne Halliday

  When the scene changed to a close-up of him and his supporters taking their places near the altar before pulling back to a shot of the entire church, Angie gasped.

  “There were cameras?” she asked with open shock.

  “Everywhere,” he murmured.

  After that, they both watched, mesmerized, as their wedding unfolded from multiple points of view and angles.

  The “Wedding March” began, and her attendants started down the aisle while the camera caught Angie’s impatience and excitement. She was wiggling up and down, her head swinging everywhere as she tried to take it all in. Uncle Cris’s expression was full of pure joy.

  He’d remember the next section of the video for the rest of his life.

  Angie and her dad moved into position for their father-daughter walk to the altar. He saw his uncle lean over to say something and pat Angie’s hand where it clung to his arm. The sound of the organ swelled, and then a screeching noise shook the rafters as Parker put on a headset and stopped the music with a hand gesture and chuckling command.

  After that, his microphone and those of the guys provided the soundtrack. His crew moved into place as Alex took command of a guitar, and “Here Comes the Sun” filled the church and boomed from the sound system in their honeymoon bungalow.

  Whoever Calder worked with to edit the video did an outstanding job. Shots of Parker singing with the guys providing the backing vocals and rhythmic claps alternated with close-ups of his bride’s beaming face and her dad’s indulgent grins.

  Someone had even managed an overhead shot of the entire assemblage joyously clapping to the familiar song as she glided down the long aisle on her way to him.

  It was better than a Hollywood movie.

  One memorable candid shot showed his mom wiping away a tear. Angie was affected too. He felt her squeeze his arm before resting her chin on his shoulder.

  “Did you know?” she quietly asked. “Did you know this is my favorite turn the page song?”

  “Of course,” he answered. “It’s your go-to. And it fits perfectly. Plus, not to fall prey to nauseating cheesiness but … you are my sunshine.”

  His bride’s impetuous dash along the final steps to the altar and their exuberant lip lock along with Alex’s sarcasm and her ladies’ happy weeping was like a Family Justice commercial.

  When things turned serious, the video offered a final close-up as the service began. “Dearly beloved …” and then the shot slowly pulled to the far back of the church as the audio gradually muted into the background.

  “Uncle Ed threatened to put the family jewels in a sling if the service got taped like a reality TV show.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured. “As soon as the service began, I understood Red’s concerns when she and Alex got married. It’s weird having hundreds of people at your back watching something so personal.”

  Their blissful march from the church as husband and wife was caught on tape as was the semi-raunchy kiss he planted on his bride the second they stepped into the church’s vestibule alone.

  He switched the video off at that point. “There’s more. Reception stuff. We can watch it another time.”

  He sensed a shift in her mood and looked more closely. Her eyes were downcast, and she was doing a number on her lip. Parker strained to pinpoint what was happening. A soft, adorable shyness about his seductive desert angel suddenly felt intriguing.

  Parker lifted her chin with his finger. Her cheeks flushed a rosy pink. He inhaled the scent of his woman combined with the perfume of the gardenia tucked in her hair. He knew a tropical island paradise would be the ideal surroundings for the start of their new life. If they’d been anywhere else, her natural exuberance would have led to more sightseeing and touristy shit than would ever be necessary. By cutting off the outside world, they could be themselves. Parker and Angelina. After everything they’d been through, he couldn’t think of a better way to begin as they took their first steps into a whole new world.

  “What’s going on in that head? Hmm?”

  There was a split second of alarm when tears filled her eyes, but thankfully, she quickly spoke and put his mind at ease.

  “It’s too much,” she murmured. A half sob came from her throat. “Everything. This. The wedding. Our home. Sometimes, I can’t believe we’re together. And you … you’re so wonderful, Parker. All these things you’ve done. For me. For us.” She shook her head and pulled away as emotion overwhelmed his lady love.

  “I have nothing,” she continued. Gently touching the key and chain around his neck, she sighed, and a tear rolled down her cheek. “Nothing except gestures and some words. It’s not enough.”

  Oh. He got it. She didn’t understand what those words did to him or how very long he waited to hear them—even through the dark times when he was positive he’d lost her forever.

  Stroking the face of his beloved, Parker smiled into her eyes. “Angelina, I love you more than words. I love you without a wedding. I love you with everything, and when that isn’t enough, I love you more.”

  “See?” she cried. “That’s what I mean. All I have to give is words, and you do it so much better.”

  “Honey. If you hadn’t put everything on the line and come back home, we’d have nothing.”

  “I love you.”

  “And there you have it.” He chuckled. “Don’t you see, baby girl? I have my angel at last, and you’ll just have to get used to me wanting to spoil you.”

  How easily he read her thoughts was comical—and no doubt the result of a lifetime of studying Angie Marquez.

  She couldn’t only be a spectator. His wife needed—no, she demanded—equal time. He got away with planning their wedding because she was more interested in the day-to-day stuff and far too impatient where their marriage was concerned.

  “Tell you what. If it means that much to you, I’ll be a nice guy and let you handle our first anniversary. Will that make you feel better?”

  Her playful streak took over, and she shoved away from him with a laugh. “Which anniversary would this be? Our first slow dance? Kiss? Wham Bam?”

  Oh, god. She did not just say that—did she?

  “Angie, shit.”

  She laughed. “Oh, get over it, Counselor. Surrendered virginity and a screaming O don’t always go hand in hand. Nobody was keeping score.” She smirked at him and shrugged. “Except you.”

  “From a guy’s perspective, what went down that first time is the stuff of nightmares.”

  “Why? Because you lost control?”

  Why the fuck were they talking about this? He shifted uncomfortably and put his arm on the back of the sofa. She was so nonchalant about their first time while he was the one with a guilty conscience. Not because he took her virginity but because she was right. The reality of Angie under him as he made love to her with zero finesse whatsoever was a moment so cringe worthy he tried not to think about it.

  “There it is!” She clapped her hands and giggled. “That’s what I bring.”

  “Seriously?” He drawled. “You’re applauding my loss of control?”

  “Yes, yes, and yes,” she happily crowed.

  He growled and tried to hide his smile. The woman was fucking priceless.

  “Parker, my god,” she quipped. “I can count on a couple of fingers how many times you’ve lost it. Don’t you see how that makes me feel? Golly, I remember being in first grade the year you didn’t win the science fair. Sophie said you were so mad you were gonna rip off some guy’s nuts. At the time, I didn’t get it. Why would anybody steal nuts?”

  The reminder of his archrival, that ginormous douchecanoe Josh Gordon, was both comical and irritating. She remembered the incident correctly. His classmate was a pissant shitfuck who cheated out the wazoo to steal a win at a science fair Parker was sure he’d win. He remembered being in a rage about it too.

  In the end, people took sides and drew some tongue-in-cheek battle lines. And not just between him and his classmate. Nope. The dickhead won tha
t science challenge because one of his father’s clients was some random scientist who lived in town. In other words, he got professional help.

  That was the start of the insane Rube Goldberg competition his and Angie’s father continued to this day. Outraged by the cheating and subsequent front-page news of Josh’s uncanny science fair submission, Uncle Cris and his dad took the whole thing personally.

  For him, though, surviving the high school humiliation and exaggerated defeat almost led to a smackdown. After that, he had to count to ten every time he came across the asshole.

  By Parker’s senior year, he and Alex were already living their teenage rock god fantasy when Josh countered with a band of his own. They sucked and still did despite the clever band name. Chixie Dicks.

  Angie didn’t know it yet, but a grudge match more than twenty years in the making was taking shape. He was sick to death of the Dicks dogging Desert Thunder’s every move. Time to show Josh Gordon who had the bigger dick.

  “Everyone says you’re disturbingly calm, and I don’t think losing your cool in a courtroom is much of a danger, so when you, um, well, you know,” she muttered with a shrug, “went a little crazy, I liked it.”

  “You’re the chink in my armor.”

  She responded to his hushed admission with a smile.

  “This is why I have to be the one to take care of you. I like all that wifely stuff. And if along the way your restraint is tested, I’m delighted.”

  “Ah, darlin’, you bring more to the equation than you realize. I like that it pisses you off when I give you things. It’s quirky and cute. And if losing my shit turns you on, I guarantee a lifetime of melting panties.”

  She stood and yanked him with her. “Sing to me, husband. Hold me close and sing.”

  SWAYING IN HER husband’s arms as he sang a Bruno Mars song, Angie felt nothing but love for her incredible man. He was her everything, and nothing would ever change that.

  At the last chorus, he held her face in his hands and delivered the lyrics that proclaimed her beautiful and amazing. The emotion in his voice made her eyes fill and her lips tremble.

  In a flash, she saw them years from now, still laughing and loving surrounded by children and family. In the perfect world of her imagination, she imagined a little girl with Parker’s amazing smile and a boy who looked a lot like her dad.

  She was Mrs. Parker Sullivan. The secret and not-so-secret longings in her heart as a little girl, a young woman, and an adult had magically come true. The love she’d always had for him, he returned tenfold. Angie felt cherished, adored, revered, and respected.

  Lucky? Try blessed.

  “Don’t ever let go,” she made him promise when the song ended, and he folded her into a fierce embrace.

  They danced, drank more champagne, laughed, and strolled down the teak walkway to the beach. The moon shone bright, illuminating a double lounger with pillows stacked high.

  Angie reclined between his legs with her back on his chest and Parker’s arm around her torso. He played with her hair as they enjoyed the beautiful moonlight dancing on the water.

  Over the course of the day, they’d lost the teasing edge to their playtime. She touched the delicate gold necklace with the diamond heart. He wasn’t her Sir right now, and kitten had to wait for another time.

  She stretched her arms up until her hands were on the back of his neck. Angie gave him room when he moved her hair and began kissing her jaw and ear. The low-cut neckline of the negligee made it easy for him to slip his hands beneath the lace to cup her breast.

  Her fingers speared into his hair, rubbing at his scalp as he sucked her earlobe into his mouth and fondled her breasts. She writhed slightly. Goose bumps spread across her skin.

  The dull ache started soon after. Acutely aware of her body readying for his possession, Angie felt sexually alive. Something powerfully deep and organic had always existed with their connection, but this felt different. Was it just imagination that made her feel as though their souls lined up? Was this how new life was created?

  Pulling the gown up her thighs to get it out of the way, she rolled and turned until she was sitting on her feet between his spread legs. The key that symbolized her heart lay on his chest. A fever of need seized Angie.

  She admired his body while he watched her through hooded eyes. The look on his face was familiar. Her open appreciation of his manly form gave Parker a thrill. He wasn’t vain—not by a long shot. The only care he gave for how he looked revolved entirely around what she liked. If she wanted him to wax his balls, he would. The very thought made her want to laugh.

  “Touch me, Angel.”

  The deep thrum of arousal in his voice demolished her self-restraint. She would never be able to see or hear evidence of his desire without needing to answer the call.

  “Don’t let this go to your head, Counselor, but you are one hot piece of manly ass.”

  She stroked his chest and purred with appreciation. Although the smoldering intensity in his eyes didn’t change, he grinned.

  Tweaking his supersize manly ego, she teased him by asking, “Is all this going to disappear now that we’re married?”

  “Depends on what you feed me,” he replied with a husky chuckle. “I prefer the P’s.”

  Angie sat back and looked at him twice. “What?”

  “Yeah, the three P’s. Pizza, protein, and pussy.”

  She grabbed his chin and shook his head while bawling with laughter. “Such a gentleman.”

  He wrapped his very big hand around her small neck and held tight. “Plenty of face sitting in your future, Angel.”

  If he imagined the subtle power play of holding her neck gave him an advantage, he surrendered his upper hand with haste when she counter-maneuvered by running her fingers along his muscular thighs while she cooed about his sexy silk pajama bottoms.

  “I enjoy a good drawstring,” she murmured through swipes of her tongue along his lips.

  His thick, gruff chuckle encouraged her wickedness. She made a production out of plucking at the silky drawstring on his bottoms until enough give exposed his abdomen and offered a peek at the delight still hidden from view.

  Her first move was to lick him from groin to neck with a long continuous swipe of her tongue. While she was in the area, Angie bit his neck, mauled the skin on his shoulder, and then nibbled a path to his nipples.

  He moaned and groaned while she mimicked what he did to her breasts. Stroking the pleasure nubs with her tongue, she used her teeth for tiny bites and sucked his flesh into her mouth. His lusty response surprised her.

  He drew her over his body for a ravenous kiss that stole her senses.

  A warm breeze rustled the tall palms along the shoreline. Overhead, a gazillion stars twinkled in the night sky. More sensory input than she could process assailed Angie’s entire being.

  Prepared to continue the seduction, she was a little stunned when Parker folded her in his arms and cradled her against his big body. Angie loved this about her new husband. He didn’t rush, and his appreciation of the smallest things filled her with joy.

  He complimented the perfume she wore and stroked her hair with a loving caress. The way his big hands touched her and the way he explored her body was nothing short of thrilling.

  “You look magnificent in white.”

  She raised her head from his shoulder and searched his face. “I love the negligee.”

  His delighted smirk was vintage Parker, landing somewhere between elated and alpha arrogant. Angie started to chuckle. What had he imagined? That she’d rather an old t-shirt or one of Sophie’s snarky flannel shrouds?

  “And I love the pjs,” she teased with a sly smirk. “Not for bed, mind you. But they are quite nice from a visual perspective.”

  He laughed. “Which view? Front? Rear? Profile?”

  “Oh, my god.” She giggled. “Are you actually grubbing for compliments?”

  “I wouldn’t have to if you’d just display the appropriate amount of awe for your
husband’s impressiveness.”

  “Impressiveness, huh?”

  Angie did a double take when a for-real pout tugged the corners of his mouth. What the hell? Was he insecure? No way!

  “Logged hours in the gym before the wedding.”

  She struggled to keep the grin off her face at the surprising admission that Parker Sullivan, Mr. Hunk McHunky, had the same worries she did in front of a mirror. Knowing he wanted to please her sent Angie’s heart soaring with happiness.

  Exultant at the opportunity to bestow some wifely ego stroking, she admired his muscular chest with her hands and reacted to his gym comment. “What the hell for?” She added a snicker and made a face. “I’m going to jump on you no matter what, so feel free to shut up the personal trainer in your head.”

  He seemed satisfied with her answer and went back to cradling her on his chest.

  The stones in her engagement ring sparkled in the moonlight as she studied her hand on his chest. Everything felt right and perfect now that they were legally joined in an ever after kind of way.

  “Tell me something about the future, Parker.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  Angie shifted and tilted her face to look at him. “This honeymoon. You thought about it, right?”

  His chest moved when he grunted. “For a long time, Angel.”

  “So tell me something else. What are your hopes and wishes?”

  Something about the simple question made him seize up. She searched his eyes and jolted slightly when she saw tears and an uncharacteristic vulnerability.

  “Parker? What is it?” Her distress was evident. “Please, tell me.”

  He hugged her so tight she almost yelped in alarm.

  “I will die if you leave me, Angelina.”

  She pushed off his chest and sat up so fast that he shifted out of her way.

  “What?” She barked the question and gaped at him. “Leave you? Excuse me? Did I miss something?”

  The vulnerability in his expression remained after he wiped away a tear. “I don’t think you fully understand how much I love you, baby girl.”