Chapter 22
Ranger
"Move," I commanded, my officer-in-charge voice appearing out of nowhere as I stopped behind the chair my brother sat in. As we'd entered the house, Steph had been swept up by the family, Mama and Lili flanking her and speaking to her excitedly and earnestly as they lead her into the dining room, Eduardo and Zelia bounding around them as they went. I, on the other hand, had been waylaid in the kitchen by my cousin and his fiance, both with wide, shit-eating grins as they mocked my apparent lack of social awareness. It was obviously too much to ask that they would let me endure my failure in peace, especially where these two idiots were concerned. And unfortunately, their distraction gave Marco the opportunity to slide into the chair beside Steph.
I would have shrugged it off and taken the chair on the other side, except it was customarily my father's position at the head of the table, and there was no way I was going to put my life on the line just to sit next to my girlfriend.
"Why?" Marco asked, grinning up at me the same way Lester and Bobby had. "I thought you thought she was my girlfriend."
Elena and Anton snickered across the table and I barely suppressed a growl. Not this again. I'd submitted to an absolute roasting after my very obvious blunder at Christmas, my siblings making jokes at my expense, commenting on how despite all my training I wouldn't know if my ass was aflame. They'd spent most of dinner asking questions about their lives. Was I aware of this significant milestone? Had I heard that my sister had gotten married? Basically making a point that I was stupid for not realising Steph and Marco were, in fact, not a couple. Not that I needed their input to come to that conclusion. The second my sister had sneered the question at me, I'd wanted to wind back the clock at least half an hour to avoid showcasing just how out of touch I was with the family.
Thankfully, the comments had been minimal at the January dinner, and I'd missed February while I was in Miami. Now, with my new fuck up, apparently I was being treated to a resurgence of the "Let's make fun of Carlos" game, and since I wasn't fresh off a mission this time, I doubted they were going to hold back.
Lucky me.
"Don't make me break your arm for real, Marco," I seethed, my voice low and ominous as I'd ever heard it. I clenched my fists tight to suppress the urge to do just that. "Go sit with your own girlfriend and let me sit with mine."
"Family dinner is a good time to mix and mingle, Carlos," Serafina said sweetly from the other end of the table, emphasising the last word as a subtle dig. "You see Steph every day at work, let her sit with someone else for a change."
"You can sit down here," Celia added, pointing to an empty chair at her end of the table and I grit my teeth so hard I thought it was entirely possible that my jaw might start to crack under the pressure. The chair she'd indicated was right between Eduardo and Zelia. The seat that was usually occupied by either herself or Reynaldo so they could keep them in line.
Hell no.
Clenching my jaw even more, I weighed the wisdom of turfing my brother out of his chair. I'd certainly have better luck now than I had when I'd attacked him at Christmas, but I was pretty sure I'd get in even more trouble with my parents if I did. Mama was ecstatic about Steph and I dating, but I didn't think it would protect me from her rage if I did indeed manage to break Marco's arm. My gaze was laser focused on the back of his head, likely burning a hole through his skull with the intensity when a touch on my arm jerked my attention to the side.
I cut my gaze to Steph, seeing concern written all over her face. And remarkably, I realised, she didn't need to ask the question I knew was on her mind, nor did she need to give any assurances that everything was okay. Just having that physical connection of her hand just below my elbow, in conjunction with the eye contact was enough to shock me to calm. Just the same as when I'd been in the gym with Tank and she'd interrupted the frantic sparring session.
How the fuck had I not realised we were in a relationship?
"If you want, we can swap," she offered after a moment when she could see I was no longer on the verge of causing bodily harm to anyone. "You sit here and I'll go join Eduardo and Zelia at the other end. Fi's right. We see each other all the time, but as far as I'm aware, you only see your family once a month." Her tone was soft, voice quiet so that my family were all leaning in trying to hear. Before she'd finished her sentence, she was already on her feet, apparently having made up her mind for me, but I didn't let her get any further.
As she stepped around the chair, I pulled her close to me, her front flush up against mine as I lowered my voice even further than hers had been. My words were only for her, everyone else could take a long walk off a short pier. "You stay," I told her, tucking that one stubborn curl that always seemed determined to be free (and after years of my every movement being controlled, I could identify with it) behind her ear and holding back a smile as I felt her full-body shiver. "Papa wants you nearby, and you're right, I can have you whenever I want you."
Her eyelids went momentarily heavy with desire as she melted against me a second before she seemed to remember that we had an audience. A gorgeous blush bloomed on her cheeks as she straightened abruptly. Oh yeah, Babe, I thought. We're gonna be good together. At least she hadn't let out one of her moans, or we would be in for a chorus of whistles and catcalls.
"O-okay," she said, needing to clear her throat before she could get the word to come out. "If you're sure."
I let my finger trail down her cheek, the heat of increased blood flow to the area seeping into the tip. "I am," I assured her, staring deep into her eyes, trying to convey my gratitude for her interference and attempted solution. If she hadn't pulled my attention I likely would have slammed Marco to the ground.
I was just about to step back and make my way to the only seat aside form Mama and Papa's reserved positions that was left empty when she leaned up and pressed a kiss to the corner of my mouth. She was smiling warmly as she pulled away, letting her hand trail down my arm as she returned to her own seat.
I circled the crowded table, resisting the urge to smack Marco's water glass out of his hand when he decided to taunt me before he was out of arm's reach.
"Wow, I never thought I'd see the day when you were so whipped you'd let a woman tell you what to do, hermano."
I was rewarded for the maturity and restraint of being a good role model for my nieces and nephew when Papa whacked Marco in the back of the head on his way past in the opposite direction. And when Mama followed behind to pinch his ear and whisper a maternal threat, I let a satisfied smirk tip the corners of my mouth up at the way his face paled.
"What did you say to Beautiful to make her blush like that?" Lester asked, leaning over Zelia's head as I slipped into my seat between her and her brother, the table having erupted into a hundred little conversations as the food started circulating.
"None of your business," I replied, watching Steph across the table as she spooned beans onto her plate, speaking quietly with Papa. As if she sensed my attention, her eyes darted away from what she was doing, locking on mine immediately. Her soft smile grew into an unrestrained grin as she turned back to my father.
"Well, either way, I'm happy for you," Lester went on. He pushed Zelia's head out of the way when she attempted to lean back in her chair. "Both of you," he added, over the girl's giggles as she tried it again with the same reaction. "She's been through a lot since we met her, so it's good to see her so happy." When Zelia tried a third time to insert herself between us, he planted his hands on top of her head, leaning his chin on top as well. "Stay down, Zeels," he said. "I'm trying to tell Tio Carlos that if he hurts Tia Steph I'll hurt him."
"Mama says you shouldn't hurt people," Eduardo piped up from my other side, kneeling on his chair to reach across me for the bowl of carrots I'd yet to even contemplate.
I scooched the dish closer for him. "Your Mama's right," I said evenly. "You need to be nice to people."
He paused with a spoonful of carrots halfway between the bowl and his plate, looking up at me with an expression I recognised as my older sister shining through his genetics, curiosity mixed with a thirst to be right. "But don't you hurt people in the army?"
"Only bad people," Les said before I could formulate an answer. He'd finally released Zelia, returning to an upright position in his own seat. "And they hurt him worse," he lied. Obviously, being dead was worse than a few broken bones and internal injuries, but we tried to keep the sordid details of what we'd actually done in service to the country out of conversations where the kids could hear. They didn't need to learn how ugly the world could be while they were so young. They'd figure it out on their own soon enough.
Perusing the dishes that were piling up in our vicinity since we hadn't started loading our plates like the rest of the family, Lester rubbed his hands together, glancing at Zelia. "What are we gonna eat, Zeels?" he asked her, but she wasn't paying attention to him. Instead, she was staring at me.
"Are you and Tia Steph gonna get married?" The question came perfectly timed to fill a lull in the noise of the room, ensuring that everyone heard and turned their attention my way. Waiting. Expectant.
Steph let out a choking noise and hastily reached for her water, guzzling it down as her eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, meeting mine over the rim of the glass even as Papa patter on the back. I couldn't blame her for the reaction. I was just as taken aback by the question as she was.
Only, the more I thought about my answer, the more I realised I wasn't as averse to the idea as I once was. Like Steph, I already had one failed marriage (complete with a daughter I saw only a handful of times a year) under my belt that had left a bad taste in my mouth. But as I thought about the alternative - not having Steph in my life on a daily basis - my mind rebelled, bringing to the forefront of my brain, memories of entering my living room to find her on the couch, waiting for me with the remnants of her wine after I'd finished stacking our dinner plates in the dishwasher. My heart had swelled at the sight, attracted to her and happy to be with her even as I refused to acknowledge the deeper feelings I'd been harbouring all along.
I could definitely see myself marrying Stephanie Plum someday, if she agreed. But in the meantime, I was happy just dating her.
"What makes you say that?" I asked Zelia, sparing her only the briefest of glances before snapping my gaze back to my girlfriend as she got herself back under control.
"Tia 'Lena and Tio Anton used to be girlfriend and boyfriend," Zelia pointed out. "And now they're married. I went to their wedding. Tia 'Lena was like a pretty princess. I think Tia Steph would make a pretty princess too."
I couldn't disagree with her assessment. Steph was stunning in sweats and an oversized t-shirt, no doubt she would put actual princesses to shame in a wedding gown made especially for her. But I still didn't trust myself to answer the child's question. Knowing my luck, I'd open my mouth and a proposal would fall out. And given how recent Steph's own divorce was, and the mild panic in her gaze now, I didn't think it was a good time for that.
Thankfully, Elena was in full wingman mode tonight, coming through with a save for the third time in just under an hour (first and second being getting me out from under Mama's wooden spoon onslaught, and informing me of the state of my relationship with Steph). "He doesn't have to marry Tia Steph," she said. "Just look at Fi and Blake. They've been girlfriend and boyfriend for longer than Tio and Anton and I have been together, and they're not even engaged."
"We don't need a piece of paper to prove our love for each other," Fi reminded us all of the stance she held on the institution of marriage. One that I had agreed with for years, since I had never planned to settle down with anyone.
And just like that, the attention around the table, and most importantly from Zelia, turned to Fi and Blake. Questions tumbled from her lips about why she didn't want to marry him. Didn't she love him enough? And all the while, Mama was bemoaning the fact that Serfina would make a beautiful bride and a wonderful wife. She didn't understand how Fi could be so against it, but my youngest sister had always blazed her own trail. I wouldn't be surprised if they announced in the next year or so that they were having some off-beat commitment ceremony that definitely isn't a wedding but would satisfy Mama's desire to have all her children happily married off.
Then she'd have only Marco and I to focus that energy on, so I was hoping I was last in that particular line of succession since my relationship was the freshest.
I definitely owed Elena after everything she'd done for me tonight, keeping the heat off me. Catching her eye, I sent her a slight nod of thanks and she rubbed her fingers of one hand together before miming dropping something into an imaginary pocket, confirming that she would be cashing that in at a later date.
I looked to Steph to gauge how she was handling the suggestion now that the attention had been drawn away from us to find her reaching across the table to touch Elena's arm, offering her own silent appreciation in the form of a mouthed, "Thank you."
Elena grinned. "My pleasure," she said quietly, and I was once again reminded why it was best to stay on her good side when she added, "Fi's been getting on my nerves lately, so she was due to be taken down a peg or two."
