Steele

by Stacy Gail

  Then some dude with a baseball-print surgical cap came in and called her “slugger.” After that, he kept making jokes about getting his catcher’s mitt to catch her babies and asking her if she was trying to create her own team. When he deemed her to be fully dilated, he told her it was time to step up to the plate and “swing for the fences.”

  That was when she discovered that not even labor pains could erase irrational dislike. They did, however, fuel fantasies of her foot slipping “accidentally” out of the stirrup to kick this guy in his baseball-covered head.

  Her sports-mad doc announced she was crowning—thankfully without any more ridiculous analogies—when she became aware of a kerfuffle beyond the room’s door.

  “…don’t care that I can’t go into every room looking for her. Essie!”

  “Here!” She screamed it along with an almighty push, giving it just the right amount of shivery, horror-movie punch. The door flung open and Steele was suddenly there, with Luke hovering in the doorway. She had gotten to know Luke quite well over the past several months, enough to get past the weird discomfort of wondering if he was reading every thought in her head by the way she folded her napkin or cleared her throat. He was a nice guy with a crazy sense of humor, and she liked him. But she sure as hell wasn’t ready to have him all up in her business, cracking jokes with her pinch-hitting doctor.

  Oh, great. Now she was doing it.

  “Sweetness. Baby.” Steele rushed to take Carla’s place as official hand-holder, only to wince when she bore down as another contraction racked her body with pain. “You’re doing great, baby. I’m so proud of you.”

  The sports fan posing as a doctor looked up. “Whoa there, slugger. You’re out of uniform. We need you suited up, so why don’t you—”

  “Why don’t you shut the fuck up and get busy doing your job.” Steele turned back to her and kissed her sweaty brow. “Everything’s going to be fine, sweetness.”

  “It is now that you’re… here.” Crap, holding a conversation while giving birth was totally a no-go. She leaned forward with the effort of straining, then dug deep for another push when she felt something give. And another. One more…

  “And at the top of the batting order, we have… a little girl!”

  Girl.

  A girl.

  Oh God, thank you so much…

  A shuddering sob escaped Essie. She looked up at her squalling, red-faced daughter with a head full of black hair, and she knew that it would be a memory she’d treasure forever. She hadn’t wanted to know the gender of the twins, waiting until the moment of truth to make their birth even more special, if that was possible.

  Looking at her tiny miracle—her daughter—she wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

  Then another labor pain stabbed deep and she was back to the job of becoming a mother.

  Six minutes later, their son came into the world, crying even louder than his sister.

  “They’re perfect. You’re perfect.” The bustling activity around her faded as Steele wiped the damp hair away from her face, laughing and kissing her all at the same time. “My God, my God, you, the twins, my life… everything is so damn miraculous because of you.”

  “I feel the same way, sweetheart.” Tired, crying with a happiness she never knew existed, she nuzzled her face against his. “You’ve made my life complete.”

  “You’ve done the same for me, sweetness. Except for one thing.”

  Her brilliant euphoria dimmed. “What?”

  “You have to marry me, Es. I’m not fucking around with this anymore. You. Are. Marrying me.”

  She sighed. This again. “Steele, now’s not the time—”

  “You’re right. I should’ve dragged your pregnant ass to the altar months ago—and mark my words, the kids are going to throw us not being hitched when they were born in our faces when they think they’re old enough to know better.”

  The kids. That sounded so good she almost lost it entirely. “I just want to make sure you’re happy with the life we have before we make that commitment.”

  “Commitment? Jesus, Essie, we’ve been living together for almost a year. Your clothes have taken over the closet to the point where I’m building what amounts to be an entire room that’s gonna be your closet, and I’m doing it happily, because it makes you happy. I fit your crazy, hot-tempered family and they fit me. I just traded in my truck for a bigger, safer SUV because I want to be sure there’s enough room for us and the kids whenever we decide to pile in and hit the road for some fun. Oh, and yeah, there’s the small fact that we have two kids together. Trust me, sweetness, I’m committed. You’re the one who’s holding back.”

  “I need for you to be sure you’re always going to be happy with this life we have.”

  “I love you.” It flowed out of him so forcefully, so naturally, it stunned her into absolute stillness. He’d only said those words to her once before, when they’d discovered she was pregnant. She knew that phrase didn’t come to him naturally. Which was all right; Steele went out of his way to show his love for her in countless other ways. Long ago she’d accepted that this was how it was with him.

  But deep down, she missed those words. That, more than anything, was what had held her back from taking that final step. She would do anything for him, God knew. Anything. But she wouldn’t trap him. If he didn’t love her as much as she loved him, she left that door open so he could walk away. She knew he loved her, cared for her. But hearing those words solidified that knowledge in her heart, as well as her mind.

  It took most of her remaining strength to lift her hand to his cheek. “Say it again.”

  “I love you. I can’t remember what life was like to not love you. I can’t imagine what life would be like without loving you. You want a guarantee that I’m always going to be happy every single second from this point on? I can’t give you that. No one can. But even if we have moments when we’re not flying around on a fucking cloud of happy, I’ll still love you with everything I’ve got, and that’s something I can guarantee. So say yes, sweetness. Just say yes.”

  The docent and a nurse came up with two tightly wrapped bundles of squirming, crying life. “Are you two ready to hold your daughter and son?”

  “Yes,” Essie said, looking right into Steele’s eyes. And when she saw understanding flare in their pale depths, immediately followed by a crushing hug that made her groan, she knew he got the message. Now that she fully understood he loved her, she had gotten the message, too. “Yes. I’m finally ready.”

  (Six months later)

  They should have eloped.

  The thought rambled through Essie’s head yet again while a stylist worked on taming her coils of thick hair around a crystal and seed-pearl encrusted tiara-style hair band she wore in lieu of a veil, while a makeup artist did God knew what to her face. She put up with the enforced primping by focusing her attention out the window at an increasingly jam-packed parking lot outside the Strand Mansion.

  Somehow, the quiet ceremony Essie had envisioned with just Steele and their children, along with a few friends and family, had grown like a radiation-fed Godzilla monster-baby.

  In retrospect, she had no one to blame but herself. When she had told her parents she was planning on a civil ceremony down at the courthouse, her mother had wailed that her only daughter was not going to cheat her out of the princess wedding she’d always dreamed of. Considering that at one point, the entire Santiago family believed Essie wouldn’t live to even see a wedding day, the very least Essie could do was allow her mother to put together a wedding that would show the world her daughter had triumphed in every possible way.

  Back then it had seemed like such an understandable request. Touching, even.

  Then the madness began.

  Her mother had brought in every facet of the wedding process that she could think of. It wasn’t just a matter of saying “I do.” Oh, no. When Lynette Santiago was involved, it meant the guest list, seating arrangement, flower preferences, ven
ues with valet parking and liquor licenses, color schemes, catering menus, cake taste-testing, live bands versus a DJ for the reception, bridesmaids and groomsmen, gifts for the bridesmaids and groomsmen, wedding guest favors, an official father-daughter dance, an official song that she and Steele would dance to, photographers versus videographers, makeup artists and professional stylists… it went on and on.

  Essie should have put her foot down at the very beginning. It would have stopped the madness. Now it was far too late to even think about eloping.

  But it sure was nice to fantasize about.

  The one subject her mother couldn’t touch was Essie’s wedding gown. Essie had never been a fan of all-white, so while the dress’s base layer was white—a form-fitting, hourglass halter dress with a flaring mermaid hemline—she had overlaid the material with shimmering champagne organza. The bodice and hemline were heavily decorated with crystal-studded appliqués, giving it an almost evening gown appearance. It was stunning, and even her mother couldn’t complain about it too much, despite her continued attempts to push the more traditional poofy white wedding dress down her throat.

  Considering that she and Steele had two thriving six-month old babies on their hands, traditional wasn’t exactly a thing with them.

  “Welp, it’s a sign of the apocalypse.” Carla swung into the Bridal Suite, a lovely, over-the-top girlie room that had everything a bride could possibly need, including slipper chairs, overstuffed chaise lounges, arrangements of roses everywhere, a crystal chandelier overhead and a well-lit vanity where Essie sat, as well as a three-way mirror in the corner. “My parents are here and they’re actually being civil to one another. Any bets on how long that’ll last?”

  “Even your parents are here?” Essie tried not to gape. The makeup artist was brushing deep red tint onto her lips, and she didn’t relish looking like The Joker. “Holy crap, I’m beginning to think my mother invited every human I’ve ever met to this thing.”

  “Considering that we’re reaching maximum capacity out there, I’d have to say that’s not an unreasonable statement.” Dressed in a slinky gold halter dress with an organza bolero jacket that Essie had made for her Matron of Honor, Carla came to lean on the vanity. “Damn girlie, you look hot. Steele’s going to jump your bones the moment he sees you.”

  Her nervous stomach jittered at the thought. She just hoped her man had the patience to put up with this insanity. “Have you seen him? Is he okay?”

  “I caught a glimpse of him upstairs with his crew. And what a crew. Have you noticed that they all look like James Bond wannabes?”

  “Depends. What do you mean by James Bond wannabes?”

  “Like they’re up for fucking you, fighting you or assassinating you, depending on the mission parameters, and all without blinking an eye.”

  “Then yes. I have noticed that they all look like James Bond wannabes.” Except that the people employed at PSI weren’t “wannabes,” and never would be. They were as delicious and dangerous and volatile as Carla sensed, but that didn’t bother Essie in the least. When it came to her and the twins, her man was the gentlest, most loving soul on earth.

  Life had changed with the arrival of Victoria Helene and Maddox Ryan. That was to be expected, of course, but what Essie hadn’t expected was the change in Steele. He was still as plainspoken and hard-edged as ever, but once he was home with his little family, his softer side came out in a big way. Almost from the moment he was through the door, he had either Victoria or Maddox in his arms, sometimes both. And without fail, he sought Essie out to get his welcome-home kiss, a fact that made her heart skip with joy.

  Overnight, Steele had turned into a family man, and seemed not just happy with the change, but downright content. That edgy restlessness that she’d always sensed prowling inside him seemed to have vanished, and in its place was a peace that had settled over him as he held her and their children close.

  She hadn’t thought it was possible to love Steele more than she already did. But when she realized how happy he was with the life they were building together, there were times she thought her heart might actually burst.

  With a sigh, Carla glanced at her watch. “We’d better get you into your dress, since the ceremony’s scheduled to start in about fifteen minutes. Can you imagine your mother if you were late for your own wedding?”

  Essie opened her mouth to respond when the door flew open and suddenly Lynette was there, decked out in a dress that she’d had Essie make with that same shimmery champagne organza over a darker bronze sheath. She looked beautiful, but before Essie could tell her so, her mother took one look at her, pressed her hands to her cheeks and gasped. “You’re not dressed yet? Why aren’t you dressed yet? It would be a disaster if you were late, you need to get dressed!”

  “See what I mean?” Grinning, Carla handed the stylist a bottle of hairspray from off the vanity. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

  Since Essie already had on the corset, undies and stockings under her robe, getting dressed was simply a matter of getting the dress on. The rest of the time was her mother fussing over every non-wrinkle and straight seam, until finally she handed Essie her bouquet of flame-colored calla lilies, creamy roses and crimson chrysanthemums—a lovely fall bouquet for an October wedding.

  “There we are.” Her mother took a step back to take her in, and as Essie watched, her mother’s dark eyes shimmered with a slow buildup of tears. “You’re breathtaking, my girl.”

  Her smile wobbled. “Thanks, Mom.”

  “This is a dream come true for me, you know. I’ll never forget the first moment I laid eyes on you, this tiny little girl so precious and perfect—my daughter. When they placed you in my arms, I thought to myself that at that very moment, there was probably already a little boy somewhere out there in this great big world, destined to be your prince. I’m so happy you found him and made my dream come true. But even more than that, I’m happy you’ve risen above every trial that’s challenged you, and you’ve made your own dreams come true.” A stifled sob broke her last word in two, and she put hand to her mouth to put the brakes on what appeared to be a threatening flood. “I couldn’t be prouder of you, sweetheart.”

  “Mom.” Her own eyes prickled, and she wrapped her arms around her mother to squeeze her tight. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too. Now don’t cry, you’ll ruin your makeup.”

  Angel poked her head in. “They’re playing the prelude. Time for you to get ready for your last walk with your dad as his little girl, Essie, and time for us to get our butts out there, Carla.”

  After that it was flurry of motion. Her mother kissed her on the cheek before heading out, even as the wedding planner got Carla, Angel and Kara in place as Matron of Honor and bridesmaids, then shepherded Essie to take her father’s arm. The ladies went out on cue, and for a moment it was just Essie and her father. He reached for the hand she’d settled in the crook of his arm.

  “You happy, honey?” he asked as the first strains of the Wedding March played.

  She smiled brilliantly at him. “I don’t think I could be any happier, Dad.”

  “Let’s find out.” Keeping his hand over hers, he led her to the top of the aisle. To the left at the front with her mother, the sight of the side-by-side stroller holding Victoria and Maddox made her heart take flight. Thankfully both her beautiful, dark-haired babies were asleep, and after the twins had fussed over being dressed in a teeny tuxedo and a pint-sized organza gown, she supposed she couldn’t blame them. Despite the fact that she couldn’t seem to stop from making all sorts of adorable little outfits for them, the twins weren’t huge fans when it came to clothes.

  Hopefully that would change with time.

  Then her attention drifted to the twins’ father standing at the front waiting for her. In a heartbeat the rows of chairs, people standing to watch her entrance, the petal-strewn aisle and the familiar march playing over the sound system disappeared.

  All she saw was Steele.

&n
bsp; He stood with Luke, Twist and Nick by his side, wearing a tailor-made suit of charcoal black, along with a black silk vest and a gold silk tie. His cufflinks were her gift to him, just as the diamond earrings and matching pendant at her throat were his gift to her.

  But his real gift was the expression on his face as he watched her approach. She’d had just enough time to glance at herself after her dress was zipped up, so she knew she was as presentable as she could manage. But the way Steele looked at her, as though she was the most extraordinary woman he had ever seen, made the joy already bubbling inside her boil over until she could hardly contain it. This man, this outrageously sexy, charismatic man was hers because that was what he wanted. She was his choice. That thought always astounded her, but never more so than now.

  How did she ever get to be so lucky?

  Because Steele wasn’t big on preachers—with a crazy-ass, snake-handling, fire-and-brimstone father like his, who could blame him?—they had arranged for a judge to perform the ceremony, a round, middle-aged woman by the name of Louise Milton. After inviting the guests to be seated and offering a word on the sanctity of marriage, Judge Milton then gave them a chance to say their own vows. Essie smiled into Steele’s pale eyes and spoke aloud the words she’d memorized just for this moment.

  “I’m proud to take you as my husband, my professor, my partner and my best friend. You saw that I was stuck in my cocoon and helped me find a way out. You gave me the courage to be in the world, and you showed me how to be strong. Thank you for being my off-ramp. I promise you today that I’ll do my best to be all of that for you and our children, for the rest of our days.”

  “Sweetness.” Before she knew what to expect, his hand caught her around the neck and pulled her close as he pressed his lips to her brow. “Baby.”

  “No kissing yet,” Judge Milton chirruped, causing a ripple of laughter to roll across the room. “But we are halfway there. Now, for the groom’s vows.”