Enduring (Family Justice Book 8)

by Suzanne Halliday

  “Are we going to have more babies?” she asked.

  The question—completely out-of-the-blue—didn’t appear to rattle Cameron. As a matter of fact, he perked up at the suggestion.

  “Do you want another baby?”

  Some part of her wanted to laugh in his face. He was being “woke Cam.” The guys used that term for each other in the face of the worldwide wave of women’s empowerment that was changing so many things—hopefully for the better. Even if he wanted a dozen kids, he’d play the “whatever she wanted” card. All the Justice men understood what they were asking of their women.

  But there was this thing she couldn’t stop thinking about. They were two for three in the baby game, and almost every day since Lily was born, she wondered if three was their magic number. Had they always been destined for three children? Had her miscarriage before they even realized she was pregnant been just a fluke or something else?

  “I think three is a good number.” When Cameron didn’t react at first, she thought of something else that qualified as an opinion. Of his. “After all,” she pointed out, “this is a four-bedroom house.”

  His smile started slow and grew in intensity until it covered his whole face. Honest to heaven, she could look at Cameron’s happy smile all day.

  “When I built this house, it seemed like an extravagance. So many bedrooms for a single guy.” He feathered his fingers on her arm. “Until the first time I saw you in the kitchen, I was fairly certain I’d made a mistake. What was the point of a huge home? But I knew then that you belonged here. I was just waiting for you.”

  Dylan rolled a few feet away and encouraged his sister to follow. Lily did a commando tummy crawl and chased after him. She was already pulling herself up in the crib. Just like her older brother had been, she was energetic and endlessly physical.

  Lacey scooted closer to her husband and put her head on his shoulder. With their hands lovingly entwined, they watched the children.

  “Let’s go to Vegas.”

  Her head shot up, and she studied his face. Was he serious? Lacey loved Vegas—not because of the Strip or any of that. Oh sure, it was all kinds of raucous fun but what she thoroughly enjoyed—as any female in her right mind would—was the staggering array of pamper and spa services to be found in one small town.

  That, and the shopping. It was easy to shed her frugal impulses when her grinning husband begged her to melt his credit card with an extravagant freak-out. It was the least she could do, right?

  “Really?” she asked with childish eagerness.

  “Sure,” Cameron teased. “We’re over twenty-one, and the kids are old enough to survive a parent-free weekend.”

  “When?”

  “Slow down, speedy.” He laughed. “We’re a little booked until Labor Day. How about if we plan for the week after the variety show? Or we can wait till after the Desert Thunder challenge. I’ll ask Sawyer what shows are happening and see what he can do.”

  “Does this mean you’re okay with trying for baby number three?”

  “Yes.” He chuckled.

  “I love you,” she gleefully told him.

  “Daddy! Look at Lily!”

  Their chubby blond daughter had pulled herself up at an ottoman and was hilariously trying to stomp her foot and wiggle her ruffles-covered tushy.

  “Dance like Mommy!”

  They laughed and got in on the fun by clapping, singing, and generally acting like kids.

  Another day, another chance to love her beautiful family with her whole heart.

  Remy cleared the table and tried to ignore Finn. She could tell he knew something was up, but she wasn’t ready to get into it with him. Dragging her feet, was only going to bring more problems. She’d waited too long already.

  Lost in the drudgery of tidying the kitchen and loading the dishwasher, she was failing miserably at reigning in her anxiety. Anxiety that existed on several different levels.

  The level gnawing away at her nerves involved … what? Her boyfriend? Was that the part Finn played in the current situation? She knew that as Meghan’s brother, he was automatically included in the Justice security protocol. What made her jumpy was realizing that he’d be included solely on the basis of their relationship. She was a Justice managing director. In that scenario, he would be part of Cover-Net.

  She thought about her desert vision quest and how much of it revolved around Finn. Domineau was right to call her on it.

  “I have to get back,” he told her in a flat voice.

  The sound was like nails on a chalkboard because Finn O’Brien was anything but flat. It killed Remy that he stepped so carefully around her—but she’d forced him to be wary with her ever-changing mood swings.

  Tossing a dishtowel on the counter, she moved to the sofa and invited him to join her. His face registered surprise, and for the thousandth time, she mentally screamed at herself. Would it hurt to dial back some of the bitchiness?

  “I have to tell you something. Something important.”

  He nodded and sat down with a respectable amount of space between them. He also immediately demanded to know if she was okay. Finn might be willing to put up with her bitchy attitude, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t also up in her grill. Constantly.

  Damn.

  She sighed and angrily pushed her hair behind her ears. His concern made her feel like a shit.

  Something weird swirled in her gut. What the hell? She pressed a hand on her stomach to quell the flash of emotion.

  The weird feeling pushed back. It didn’t want to be ignored any longer. Remy knew she was trapped. Trapped by her growing need for Finn.

  Her conscience angrily tsk’ed. Need? Seriously?

  Her butt squirmed, and she crossed and re-crossed her legs, but nothing stopped the avalanche of truth that mentally body-slammed her to the floor.

  She loved Finn. It wasn’t a maybe or a someday thing anymore.

  And because of her feelings and the way she clung to him, he was potentially in danger.

  Fuck.

  There wasn’t a beginning or starting point for what needed to be said, and she still hadn’t responded to his caring inquiry. Feeling tongue-tied and growing increasingly upset, she tried to get the ball rolling before her nerves got the better of her.

  “I’m fine,” she assured him. The ridiculousness of the hollow expression made her wince. Thinking a quick backtrack or side comment would reset the situation, she self-consciously muttered, “Well, okay. Maybe fine is a stretch. I’m never fine.”

  “That’s a matter of opinion,” Finn drawled. “From where I’m sitting—in the cheap seats—you’re mighty fine, Ms. Bisset.”

  “Don’t be nice to me, Finn. I don’t deserve it.”

  His kiss was unexpected and so tender that she was afraid of crying.

  “Do you want me to start?” he asked.

  Ergh. He knew. What the hell was wrong with her?

  He didn’t wait for her to respond.

  “First, I know about your other guy.”

  She nearly fell off the sofa in shock. “What other guy?”

  He met her gaze with an expression she couldn’t read. Panic fired off in her chest. What was he talking about? Shit, most of the time she barely managed to be civil at work, and it wasn’t like she had friends. Certainly not guy friends.

  “The one you talk on the phone with.”

  Remy blinked in slow motion. The phone. What guy did she talk to on the phone? She chewed her lip and searched her thoughts.

  “Long distance,” he added. His expression did not change.

  Her poor lip objected to the furious assault from her teeth. A guy she talked to long distance.

  When clarity hit, she smacked him on the arm and grumbled, “What’s wrong with you?”

  The cheeky, arrogant smirk he did so well, the one she knew and loved, lessened her anxiety.

  “You should know my old man offered to step aside.”

  She flinched. “Wait. You talked to Paddy
? About me?”

  “I spoke to my father. You were mentioned.”

  The panic got real. “Finn,” she mumbled.

  “Hey,” he gently murmured. Taking her hand, he drew her gaze. “My father loves you, and he isn’t the sort to spill confidences. Your conversations with him are protected by the paternal clause. As I’m sure any discussions I may have with your folks would be.”

  Her scoffing snort was habit. “Newsflash—my mother and father are porous when it comes to anything about me. They are embarrassing blabbermouths. What they don’t know is for their own good.”

  “Well, then we’ll chalk my father’s behavior up to being a cop. He hears confessions all the time and understands what confidential means.”

  The very idea of Paddy telling Finn about their talks made her nervous. She found it so easy to talk to the gruff Irish cop and had divulged some pretty personal stuff.

  “So you talk to Da on the regular. I’m fine with it, by the way. Moving on,” he said in a fast clip, leaving her no chance to break in.

  He squeezed her hand. “I also know way too much about what you’ve been getting up to. With the ladies. Sorry. I’m not prying. Most of the time, what I get is bits and pieces here and there. After a bit—it starts fitting together.”

  Uh-oh. Was he talking about her and Domineau naked in the desert? Or the secret musical number she was working on for Lacey? Dammit. She had a lot going on, and her default setting was to keep her own counsel. Something she knew looked like a deliberate deflection to her determined Irishman.

  He didn’t elaborate, and she didn’t press, but he did make a surprising request.

  “I hope you’ve given serious thought to Ingrid’s spotlight offer. Somehow, and I actually don’t know how, she found out you’re an accomplished pianist. Since I assume you automatically said no thanks, I’d like it very much if you reconsidered.”

  “Why?”

  “Because of all the stuff you have bottled up. You even keep your amazing artwork under wraps. Let some of that amazingness out, honey. There’s no reason for you to pull back. Stride confidently onto the stage and share your talent.”

  This push to help her get a life was a nonstop pressure ever since she admitted the horror in her past. He wanted her to move on—especially once Domineau let them know justice was served.

  It sounded simple. And it probably was. But she was her own worst enemy. As much as she wanted a more normal relationship with Finn, there was still a Damocles sword dangling above her.

  Getting past what happened was one thing. Moving beyond the emotional damage she inflicted all by herself was another matter completely.

  “I’ll think about it.” That was all she had. A lame statement that wasn’t a promise.

  “Great. So now let’s discuss Justice and why you didn’t tell me about the dung heap flung into the fan?”

  She literally gulped. Not a swallow. Not even a swallow with difficulty. Nope. A gulp.

  “I don’t know how to share, remember?”

  He didn’t let it rest. His answer made her uncomfortable.

  “Sorry—can’t let you get away with that, Remington. You know perfectly well how to share. You just pick and choose.”

  “What do you know?” She sighed. “Tell me to save time and I swear I’ll tell you everything.”

  “I know my parents have security, and I know Meghan and the twins have round-the-clock protection on top of protection. Alex mumbled a bunch of nerd language about surveillance that went right over my head. And I know, because I fucking asked, that you also have a security detail. Would have been real nice to hear that from you.”

  The accusation hit home. She lowered her face and put her forehead on his chest. It was as contrite as she could be with her clothes on.

  “You’re right, and I’m sorry. You should be mad, Finn. When it comes to you, I always do the wrong thing.”

  “Just tell me. Do you want me to be concerned? About you? I am. All the time and it’s not a secret. You can’t get rid of me no matter what, Remy, but if you had a choice? Right now. This second. Do you want my concern?”

  “Yes, yes,” she cried. “I do. For real.” With a surge of spontaneous effort, she shifted and put her arms around his neck. He held her, and she heard his sigh.

  “There’s nothing you could do or say that will change how I feel. I understand a lot more than you think, baby.”

  His reassuring words gave her comfort. She wanted him to still like her once he knew how damaged she actually was. If he could see past her bad behavior, maybe, just maybe …

  Extended hugs made her twitchy, so she pulled back despite feeling some reluctance. Finn was solid and real. She liked his arms around her.

  Plus, he smelled good. Like really good.

  She owed him a real explanation—not her usual dismissal. He earned her respect a long time ago.

  “This is going to sound crazy …”

  When he interrupted her little speech and spoke with a gentle softness, the wall of protective ice around Remy’s heart melted. He gave her a smile that set her pulse racing. How did he do that?

  “I like the crazy. You do it with a unique style that is all your own. Don’t change because you think you should. Crazy suits you, babe.”

  His disarming smile and wiseass charm made her face split into a wide grin. Then his expression stilled and grew serious.

  “You’ve got the floor.”

  Right, right. What was she saying? Remy chewed her lip and retraced her steps.

  When she got right down to it, telling him everything was crucial. Not because she owed him—because he was in potential danger. Because of her.

  “There’s been some weird shit in the air. Something is going on behind the scenes. With Alex. Or maybe because of Alex. The devil is in the details,” she worriedly murmured.

  With an abbreviated sigh, she continued. “There’s been quiet chatter in the background. Chief Winston is,” she paused to search for a good word. “Concerned. I see it in his eyes. Until last week when shit got real, my involvement was strictly peripheral. Part of the job.”

  Finn nodded his understanding. “Security is a big part of your responsibilities. Have to tell you that when I first got dumped here, I thought Zorro’s security paranoia was lame. From an outsider’s viewpoint, Justice practically tagged and bagged every bowel movement in the compound. Bordered on obsessive if you’d asked me at the time.”

  She bit the inside of her mouth to stop from giggling. “I’ve come to see that there’s a reason to the Major’s madness. He views things in big picture ways we can’t understand. Like three-dimensional chess or alternate universes. Actually, it’s all three of them. Cam, Draegyn and Alex. They bounce off each other like pinballs. Alex is the big brain, but Drae brings the cool analysis. And Cam, Jesus. Do you think that guy, like ever, puts the remote control down and then forgets where it is?”

  It was a real question that got them chuckling and nodding.

  One time, she got frantic searching her office for a pair of sunglasses—the ones that had been on her head the whole time. She cringed with embarrassment—glad that Jason Cameron had not witnessed her detour into brainless territory.

  “Anyway”—Remy lightly snickered—“you know me. Unless I was personally involved, I kept my head down and took care of business. And then the shit exploded, and I got caught.”

  “You should have told me right away. Not fucking days later.” Finn’s clamped mouth and intense stare rattled her composure.

  Her chin stubbornly lifted. She could take care of herself. But her being proficient with a firearm wasn’t what pissed him off. It was her reluctance to let him in. The realization took the wind out of her sails and sent her chin lowering like a drawbridge.

  She had no excuse. Not one that made sense. Awkwardly, she cleared her throat, pushed hair behind her ear, and mumbled, “You’re right.”

  He acknowledged her admission with a slight dip of his head. “Thank you
for that.”

  Needing an anchor before she continued, Remy slid both hands beneath her thighs. “I wasn’t surprised when Alex went on Defcon alert. The security uptick isn’t just appropriate; it’s necessary until he gets a grasp on the situation. I knew what Control-Net implied,” she said firmly, “so I’ve no excuse for how I reacted.”

  “Where is this going?” Finn asked.

  Dammit. He didn’t see the obvious. Not yet. She shifted uncomfortably and dug her hands farther beneath her legs.

  “If you weren’t Meghan’s brother …” She couldn’t continue.

  “What?” he demanded. “If Meghan wasn’t my sister … what?”

  “Shit, Finn. Don’t you get it?”

  “No, I do not,” he griped. “Come on, Remy. Spit it out. You didn’t tell me you were in danger, and I can’t follow your sibling rationale.”

  She jerked to her feet and waved her arms over his head. “Fuck! If you were just some random guy and not the Major’s brother-in-law, you’d still be included in Cover-Net. Because of me! Our relationship puts you in jeopardy. I’m used to this shit, but it’s not okay that being with me could, could, oh shit,” she growled. “I don’t know. But do you understand now?”

  He held up a hand to silence her. The emotion in his eyes was confusing. Finn rarely reacted the way she expected. The way she feared.

  He knew when the conversation started that things were going to get interesting. The serious talking to his dad gave him opened Finn’s eyes. Da had also pinned him to the spot and demanded to know if he was sleeping with Remy. His automatic and tersely grumbled, “No,” was met with a hasty retraction when his dad reworded the question.

  “I’m not asking if you’re having sex with the girl. I asked if you were sleeping with her. In the same bed.”

  The question kept him awake at night because yeah, they slept together most of the time, and if he tried to explain why or what it meant, he became uncharacteristically tongue-tied.

  He answered truthfully—Da wasn’t down with verbal detours—and ended up learning something that kind of changed everything.