Positively Domesticated Steele
A continuation of Suburban Steele
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Donald Piper pulled the door closed as he and Frances left Mr. Steele's office.
"I don't get it," Laura said.
"Huh? I thought we wrapped up that one rather nicely," Mr. Steele replied.
"I mean you. The Remington Steele that walked into my life three years ago wouldn't care a fig what happened to my family."
"Ah, well," he paused. "That Remington Steele's gone. Past! Pfft!" He waved his hand in the air.
"And who's replaced him?" she asked with eager anticipation.
Mr. Steele grabbed Laura around the waist with his right arm and pulled her close, gazing at her with his steely blue eyes.
"Miss Holt, what's life without a little mystery, eh?"
Laura wrapped her arms around his neck and grinned, showing that cute dimple. Mr. Steele raised his eyebrows and chuckled. He slipped his other arm around Laura's waist and lowered his lips to hers for a long and tender kiss.
"Have dinner with me tonight," he said when they pulled away. It was more of a statement than a question.
"I'd love to, Mr. Steele."
Remington and Laura had spent almost every night together since she had gone six thousand miles to bring him home. In reality, they hadn't actually spent the "night" together, just the evenings. Sometimes they had dined at a fine restaurant. Other times they had enjoyed one of Mr. Steele's gourmet creations at his place or hers. Most evenings they had ended up in front of the fire, sipping wine . . . talking . . . laughing . . . kissing . . . But that was as far as it had gone. There were many times when they had gotten very close to "turning that corner," but Laura had always pulled away, never allowing it to happen.
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The metal shopping cart clanged as Mr. Steele pushed it through the automatic door of Ralph's market. The grocery store was relatively empty for a Friday night. This wasn't their first trip to this particular supermarket; they seemed to frequent it quite regularly. In fact, Laura suspected that the check-out girl, Daisy, looked forward to flirting with Mr. Steele on a weekly basis.
Remington and Laura talked about everything and nothing while he meticulously placed items in the shopping cart. Laura had learned that it was best not to question his purchases and just let him get whatever he wanted. Laura enjoyed watching him as he chose each item very carefully.
Mr. Steele really was a man of mystery, but there were secrets he had unknowingly revealed to her. Just by observing him, Laura knew he liked hearts of palm, artichokes and baby arugula. She also knew he preferred name-brand to generic, fresh to frozen, romaine to iceberg, portabellas to shiitakes and green olives to black ones.
When they checked out through Daisy's register, Mr. Steele smiled and winked at the young woman. It didn't bother Laura. He was going home with her. Laura knew that she was the only one he wanted.
As they had walked out of their office building it had been decided that they would eat dinner at Laura's loft. When they arrived there, Laura put the groceries away and set the table while Mr. Steele prepared their dinner. After all this time, she was still amazed at what a master he was in the kitchen. Where she struggled to make a simple one-course meal that was even edible, he could effortlessly whip-up a three or four-course gourmet creation.
Mr. Steele was very comfortable in Laura's kitchen. After the first time he had cooked for her there, Mr. Steele had surprised Laura with a large supply of culinary accoutrements. She knew he had bought the items for himself, but she thanked him knowing that it would be the gift that kept on giving.
After the delicious meal was devoured and the dishes were washed, dried and put away, Remington and Laura retired to the sofa with their glasses of wine.
"That was a fun case, eh?" he remarked as they sat down.
He never ceased to astound her.
"Fun, Mr. Steele? What was so fun about it?"
"Spending time with your family . . . Getting to know Donald better. . ." he wiggled his eyebrows and grinned, ". . . Playing house with you."
Laura smiled. She had to admit that the thought of "playing house" with him had occurred to her a few times. She had already confessed to Frances that she would like a family of her own someday. I'm just like any other woman out there trying to make the pieces fit, Laura had told her older sister. Then she thought back to the "special spaghetti" and burnt toast and wanted to cringe.
"That was fun? I'm not much of a domestic engineer like Frances."
"You shouldn't compare yourself to Frances, Laura. There are many ways you're like your sister, but thankfully there are even more ways you're not."
Laura wasn't sure how she felt about his statement. She had always hated being compared to her sister. Why can't you be more like your sister Frances? Abigail had requested over and over again. But Laura was curious about what he thought.
"How do you think I'm like Frances?" she asked.
"Well, you both are kind . . . caring . . . compassionate . . . honest . . . loving . . . beautiful women." He smiled then added, "And you both have great taste in men . . ."
Laura chuckled. He had piqued her interest.
"And how are we different?"
Mr. Steele chose his words very carefully.
" . . . You're independent . . . creative . . . feisty . . . adventurous . . . brave . . . determined . . . stubborn . . . you don't like being wrong . . . you're afraid of losing yourself in someone you care very deeply for. . . you want everything out of life, but in your own time and on your own terms . . . you can't cook, even if your life depended on it . . . "
"And those are good things?"
"Your best qualities," he replied and kissed her on the cheek. "It's what I love about you, Laura. It's what makes you, you."
Mr. Steele knew her so well. Laura pondered his words as he continued.
"Laura, I'm sure you have other domestic talents. Where you might be lacking in the kitchen, you'd make up in other . . . areas." He winked at her. "I think you'd be just great with a family of your own . . . Under the right circumstances, of course."
"Right circumstances?" she asked, not sure if she was intrigued or annoyed.
"Actually, with the right…partner."
She couldn't believe they were actually having this conversation, but she was curious enough to continue.
"Right partner?" She smiled. "And who might that be, Mr. Steele?"
"Well . . . Someone who loves being around children . . . Someone who enjoys doing some of the more mundane chores, like cooking, freeing up more time for other . . . domestic activities."
Remington leaned in and gave her a soft, warm kiss. He pulled back slightly and smiled, gazing deep into her soul.
"You never know, Laura, that person might just be inches away."
Laura's heart leapt. He really had changed from the Remington Steele of three years ago.
Laura had rationalized that the reason they hadn't "crossed the line" was because he hadn't made a commitment to her. If she was completely honest with herself, she wasn't really sure what kind of a commitment she wanted.
What was she waiting for? A proposal? Some declaration of his eternal undying devotion to her? Something she might never get? Why did she insist on so much from him? She had required much less of Wilson before letting him move in with her.
Laura knew deep down inside it was because she had already gotten in too deep; that from the moment Mr. Steele walked into her life, there had been an immediate, undeniable attraction---And the longer they were together, the deeper her feelings were for him.
Hadn't Mr. Steele shown her many times how much he cared for her? He had already told her as they stood outside the jailhouse that he wasn't going anywhere, that he was glad they were together.
The fact that he was still here, by her side, after three years, had to count for something. Laura knew it was time to face her fear of him leaving her.
This night may have begun just like all of those other nights, but it wasn't going to end the same way. Laura knew that the time had finally come for her to show him how much he meant to her.
"It's getting late," he said as he put his empty wine glass on the table and stood up. "I should be going."
Laura set down her glass, reached for his hand and stood up beside him.
"Or you could stay," she replied as she put her arms around his neck and kissed him passionately.
Remington grinned. "You want me to stay?"
Laura kissed him again and without answering, took his hand and led him up the short staircase to her bedroom. They stopped right next to her bed and she turned towards him. She couldn't hide the mischief and desire in her sparkling eyes.
Remington smiled. "What happened to the Laura Holt who was afraid of feeling too much, too soon . . . The Laura who was afraid of getting in too deep?"
Laura smiled. "Ah, well," she answered coyly. "That Laura Holt's gone."
"And who's replaced her?"
Laura moved closer to him and whispered seductively.
"Mr. Steele, what's life without a little mystery?"
~END