They'd sailed to Two Harbors, a quaint village on Catalina Island where they enjoyed a late lunch and some shopping for beachwear. It had taken a bit over five hours to make the journey and by the time they arrived they'd all been sun-kissed, Laura perhaps a little too much given the stiffness in her shoulders as they'd strolled the shops.
They'd set sail again just before sunset, dropping anchor in the natural harbor located below canyon walls on the other side of the island. Laura and he had found this little piece of paradise four years prior on their annual 'couple only' trip to the Island. Remington's face softened and the corner of his mouth tipped up. He and Laura had made love on the deck surrounded by the inky darkness of a cloud covered night. Tonight, clear skies promised a glorious display of stars twinkling above them and sparkling off the still water, beckoning one to come enjoy what it had to offer.
Too bad, he lamented. The idea of seducing Laura beneath the stars again held undeniable appeal.
Of course, it was their unending desire for one another that had created the situation they now found themselves in. Pregnant. The thought made is heart pound. He would never regret a child they created together, he hadn't lied about that. He still marveled that he and Laura had done this: Created this remarkable life and family together. And now, their family would expand by one in the most unexpected of ways. Regret their child? No, he'd never do that.
Be nervous throughout the pregnancy with occasional bouts of mind-numbing fear he'd be, there was no getting around that truth. Twenty-years. October would arrive in a bit over four months and they'd be celebrating the twentieth year since he'd stormed into her life. He wasn't quite sure he'd know how to function without her any longer. Her voice soothed him; her laughter warmed him; her touch calmed him; her smile lifted his spirits; and her mind dazzled him. Above all, the way she loved him with all of herself nourished him and quieted the demons of his past he carried with him.
Losing Laura was not an option.
Standing on the deck of their boat, Remington made a handful of vows, then and there. If Laura had thought him over-protective during her first two pregnancies, well, she hadn't seen over protective. He'd be downright predatory this go around. If she'd found him annoyingly solicitous then, she'd find him positively servile this time. If she'd believed him to be acting like a Lord and Master, previously, well, she'd discover what high-handedness truly was.
The thoughts made him feel better… as long as he pretended Laura wouldn't filet him alive should he attempt to do any of those things.
His eyes drifted over the water until they landed on wife and children twenty yards away from the boat, treading water side-by-side. He saw, not heard, Laura say something, then all four were racing in his direction. Laura held back at first, allowing the kids to think they stood a chance then made a break for it during the last third of the race, winning handily much to the competitive Livvie's chagrin. Her reaction, however, provided Laura with the perfect opening.
"Girls, next April, LA is holding a mother-daughter biathlon. A little bit of running… a little bit of biking. With some training, I'm betting we could win the whole shebang! What do you say?"
"Pass," Livvie declined immediately. "I'm going to see if Da needs any help with dinner." A few strokes later, she was at the boat and pulling herself out of the water.
Laura wasn't surprised that Olivia had turned down the suggestion. Their first born was as adverse to running as her father whom she uncannily resembled, except for her height – the only physical trait she shared with her mother. The raven-haired, blue -eyed fourteen-year-old had always been pretty, but as the teen years had taken hold, she'd become absolutely stunning. And she knew it, just like Remington had always known the same about himself. And, just like her father, she wasn't above using her looks and charm to get what she wanted.
While Remington had been running – with the occasional, expected whine – for the last decade with her, he'd avoid the exercise all together had it not been those evening runs that had helped her during the dark days of post partum. Livvie saved any running for the soccer and softball fields where she excelled – a trait she inherited from her mother. Unlike her mother, Olivia also spent a great deal of time at the gym for cheer practice and to hone her gymnastic skills.
Laura turned her eyes to Sophie. She counted the young girl as a hard sell when she'd come up with the gambit. The green-eyed, more blonde than strawberry blonde now, fifteen-year-old had become a tall, willowy beauty. She could easily have a solid and busy career in modeling, but the idea had held zero appeal for her. Instead, when the girls had come home after Career Day in third grade, Livvie had announced she was going to be an ambulance person and Sophie offered…
"I'm going to be a social worker."
She'd said it with a quiet confidence and a look in her eye that Laura was more than familiar with. She'd been a little younger than Sophie when she'd used that same voice and showed that same determination in her eyes, when she said…
"I'm going to be a detective when I grow up!"
Sophie wanted to help children in bad situations – situations like she'd been in until her mother had died and she'd become part of the Steele family. Unlike her sister, had razor sharp focus on her future, her life carefully laid out at even this tender age. Honors and AP classes, cheerleading, student council, Honor Society and volunteering at Clarissa's Closet – the store side of the foundation the Steele's had created to help women and children trapped by domestic violence. She was intent on earning first a Bachelors then a Masters at Laura's alma mater, Stanford, then working at the Foundation on the shelter side.
No where in her carefully structured plans was any mention made, whatsoever, of participating in a triathlon.
"How about you, Soph? It will look great on your college admission's application showing diversity in your activities." She'd played the strongest hand she held, then waited.
"I'd like that," Sophie agreed. A wide smile broke out on Laura's face. Sophie desperately needed some consistent one-on-one time with her mother, although she'd never ask her for it. She closed the distance between her and her daughter, giving her an awkward one armed hug as she tread water.
"You and me next weekend," she announced. "We'll get you a bike, do a little shopping to get you everything you need… have lunch at the Cheesecake Factory…" The smile on Sophie's face reached her eyes for the first time in far, far too long.
"Really?"
"You betcha," Laura promised.
"I'm going to tell Livvie!" Five strokes later, she climbed the ladder her sister had taken a minute before. When Holt made to follow, Laura touched his arm.
"Holt, what about you and your father? There's a father and son biathlon the following day." He grinned at her.
"Da's in the doghouse again, huh?" she laughed. He was as quick at picking up the nuances of a conversation as his father.
"No, he's not in the doghouse. At least not yet," she qualified, then added further, "Give him time." They shared a laugh. "I've managed to keep your father running for ten years now. If I give him a break now, I'll never get him out there again and we both know, it's the only exercise the man gets."
"He is getting old," Holt considered aloud.
"Well, I wouldn't say that to him," she laughed, again. "You know how your Da is about age—"
"And gray hairs," Holt added. Laura rolled her eyes.
"And gray hairs," she agreed.
"Don't worry, Mom. I've got it covered." She reached up and fondly ruffed his hair.
"You're a really great kid, did you know that?" Holt laughed.
"I should, as often as you and Da tell me."
That very man was watching them from the boat and called out…
"Plan to join us soon or should I grab the fishing net?"
"You do realize that would require you to drag out the net, cast it and then haul us in, right?" she called back, a note of sarcasm in her voice. Remington pretended to ponder that thought.
"Good point. It would be much easier if you'd just come along."
"Easier for you," she shot back.
"Yes, yes, as it should be," he shot back with a flashy smile. "I seem to recall something in our wedding vows to the tune of '… and do you promise to love, honor and obey me while doing your utmost to ease—"
"Must be your first wedding you're thinking about," she retorted. Holt laughed again. They'd never shared with the kids that their father had attempted to wed Clarissa to avoid deportation and likely never would. They'd agreed there was more harm than good to be done by doing so, perhaps making them question the stability of the very foundation on which their lives were built.
Laura and Remington had, after all, married mere hours after he'd tried to wed Clarissa, to keep him in the country and discovering that truth would only lead to more questions, including how in her anger she'd used Tony Roselli to make Remington jealous. It hadn't worked out the way Laura had planned. Roselli was obsessed with them, wanting vengeance for Laura playing him and Remington for constantly getting in the way. Five years ago, on the twentieth anniversary of their meeting, Roselli had come after them again, intent on making Sophie, Livvie and Holt orphans.
No, the children could never know. The lack of knowledge meant Holt laughed at her comment instead of cringing.
They'd also agreed that if Sophie ever asked about her mother and her relationship with the Steele's, they'd do one of the things that made them tops in their professional careers: Put a spin on the story, answering truthfully the things she should know and dancing around the rest.
"Laura… oh, Laura…"
A nudge of Holt's elbow into her ribs had Laura giving her head a quick shake and blinking her eyes.
"Now, you've done it. You checked out," he warned. Remington's whines were of endless amusement to the children.
"Really, Laura, it's bad enough that you have given the culinary feast I put together very little regard and, now, you completely ignore me—" Holt's smiled widened.
"Get him, Mom," her son coached sotto voice, then swam towards the boat, reaching the ladder in three strong strokes.
"Perhaps, since I've insulted you so, I should go for a swim so you and the children can enjoy that 'culinary feast' by yourselves," she challenged, a wicked smile gracing her lips. She was met with pursed lips and the lift of a brow.
"Suit yourself," he dared. Her tongue ran over her lips, nervously. His answer had been too fast, meaning he thought he held the winning hand.
"Fine!" she decided to call, turning away from him and swimming towards the shore.
"Two words, Laura," he shouted at her. Damn her curiosity. She stopped and whirled to face him. Damn it, damn it, damn it. His smug smile announced whatever confection he'd whipped up, chocolate was involved.
"Which are?" she asked feigning little interest in whatever he wished to say.
"Choco-let fon-due," he drew out the four syllables, for perverse enjoyment. Her lips parted and she swallowed hard. She could resist the bait, she could. She hadn't had time to convince herself of that, before he added: "Dark, white and milk chocolate."
She groaned inwardly. He was one up on her, the twinkle in his eyes fairly shouted. And he was. Her lips pinched together. A Mr. Steele who was pleased with himself was far worse than a whining Mr. Steele. There'd be little notes left on her desk. He'd tell everyone in the office that she was nursing a chocolate addiction again. The longer it took to even the score, the more obnoxious he would get.
She had to concentrate to hide the smile that accompanied a niggling memory: She and Holt would even the score before the night's end. In the meantime, she'd knock the man off balance. He'd know something was coming but not knowing what would effectively drive him mad.
She really enjoyed mind games. By the time she was done with him he'd be gnawing his fingernails to the quick, jumping when she touched him, knocking over his glass clumsily and his eyes would follow her, warily, wherever she went.
Such fun to be had.
With a sigh, she surrendered, lifting and dropping her hands..
"You got me," she admitted, then began to swim to the boat. She missed the furrow of his brows and him mouthing silently…
What just happened? Laura Holt never surrenders.
She was surprised to see no trace of him, as she began her upward climb. By the time her feet hit the deck, he'd reappeared with a towel in his hand.
"Bit of a nip in the air tonight," he explained. The smile she gave him dazzled him, and the press of two kisses to his lips while she looked up at him and found his eyes, made his heart pitter-patter. "Mmmm," he hummed his pleasure then inquired, "What was that for?" She widened her eyes.
"I wasn't aware I needed a reason to kiss you," she said with exaggerated innocence. His eyes narrowed and he examined her face for any indication of what she was up to. To her credit, she didn't so much as blink under his scrutiny. "I'm going to rinse the saltwater from my hair and change." Just to confuse him more, she brushed her lips against his cheek, then turned and walked away, feeling his eyes resting on her.