“Of course, I see this kid’s hair. Figure she must be a fucking expert. I mean, look at it! She’s got perfect fucking gold hair, don’t you?” she spits across to Phoebe again.
“Just stick to the facts, okay?” My dad reminds her.
“Well, I got my highlights alright. But Goldilocks here, for whatever reason, decides to fuck it all up for me, dying my hair god damned green. Green! My whole fucking head was bright green,” she shouts, breaking down again into sobs.
Listing off everything that’s gone wrong in her life, Laura’s convinced, she swears it all started on that fateful day when Phoebe obviously made a mistake with her hair coloring chemicals.
“It was a mistake,” Phoebe says finally. “I was so nervous about doing someone’s hair all on my own, I mixed the wrong chemical. A girl like you, the perfect girl who had boys dripping off her. I was scared to death,” she recounts.
But Laura’s not convinced. “You did it to spite me. All you fat kids were the same, always trying to dream up something to get back at us, the kids who were just normal. Nothing special about being pretty, Phoebe. It’s called being normal,” she hisses again.
“Alright, I’ve heard enough,” I tell them both.
“Like I said, Laura. If that’s your real name, this ends tonight. No more following Phoebe or me. No more impersonating realtors or being my assistant and changing deliveries. And definitely no more-”
There’s a heavy knock at the door.
A cop’s knock if ever I’ve heard one.
They announce themselves as police and I move to let them inside.
“So you did call the cops, after all, figures you fucking shitheads,” Laura snarls as I open the door.
“We’ve had reports of a disturbance,” I’m informed, and a couple of cops push past me, spotting the blond wig, IDs, and cash on the table.
“And it looks like we’ve found who we’re after,” they smile in unison, turning to the rest of us once they notice the recording equipment.
“Interrupting something?” One of them asks.
I leave that up to Phoebe, letting her know with a glance that we can share everything we have on Laura with them, or we can leave her to her own misery.
God knows it looks like she’s got herself in enough trouble.
“No,” she whispers. “Laura was just about to leave.”
“If anything else has happened we need to be made aware of…” the cop continues, but Phoebe’s done. I can see that.
“I am sorry, Laura,” she tells her stalker, following her to the door where they cuff and search her before taking her away.
“What’ll happen to her?” I ask the last cop to leave.
“Five to ten with her rap sheet. Maybe more if we subpoena evidence from you guys,” he smirks before tipping his hat and wishing us all a safe and good night.
I close the door behind them, leaning heavily until I hear the lock click.
Dad wastes no time in starting to pack up his gear before he tells me he might leave it for me to do instead.
“I hate to love and leave ya, but I’ve got a date,” he announces, checking his watch and puffing air out from his cheeks.
“A date?” I exclaim, wondering if I’m in the right apartment after all. Wondering if this is really my dad in front of me.
“That’s right,” he beams. “Oh! Can I use your city apartment tonight? I’m trying to make an impression,” he says, a matter of fact.
I choke down a laugh. “Of course you can. You’ve got the keys?” I ask.
“I can always let myself in,” he says with a devilish smile.
“Phoebe? A pleasure to meet you and your, err… baby,” he says, shaking Trixie’s little paw.
“Don’t be a stranger and I look forward to seeing you again soon,” he adds, jutting his head towards his laptop and looking at me.
“Pack it up carefully son, and make sure those cameras go back in their boxes.”
There’s another tap on the door and I groan loudly. “What next?” I ask the ceiling before swinging the door open.
“You again?” The old woman says, stabbing the air in front of me with a nail polished finger.
“Mrs. Peterson?” Phoebe gasps.
It’s her alright, but she’s dressed to the nines and looking like she stepped right out of a time machine from the nineteen forties.
“C’mon, Arthur. We’ll be late,” she snaps and my dad is at attention. Bustling to get over to her and take her arm before she changes her mind.
But something tells me she won’t. There’s a look in her own eyes that’s as happy and relieved as the twinkle in my dad’s eyes when he sees her.
Phoebe and I stare at each other, long after my dad and her landlady have left until we both have to laugh, finding each other again in the middle of her tiny living room that used to be her bedroom as well as her closet and dining room.
I hold her close to me, kissing her. Not even minding if the door is open and unlocked anymore.
There’s nothing for Phoebe to worry about, ever again.
She’s all mine and I’m definitely all hers.
Phoebe, Trixie, and me. The way I know it’ll be from now on. With no more interruptions or nasty surprises.
“Let’s go home,” I tell her.
“What about all the gear?” she asks, and I ask her in return if she’s really bothered about what happens with her stalker from now on.
“Not really,” she confesses, and I have to agree.
“I think dad’s gonna be spending plenty of time around here, in your building at least,” I observe. “Maybe he can pack up his own gear, once he finds all the cameras.” I laugh out loud.
“Then let’s get out of here,” Phoebe says.
And taking her hand in mine, with Trixie in tow, we make our way out and she pulls her apartment door shut for what I know will be the last time.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
THREE WEEKS LATER
Phoebe
“What do you mean it’s too small?” Max asks me, pretending to be offended when we discuss choices between his three houses.
“Apart from the fact your dad probably boned my landlady there, it’s just a little too small is all I’m saying,” I tell him, knowing he agrees with at least half of what I’ve said while he makes a face.
“And the other place, outside the city, I thought you loved that one?” he asks, feigning even greater horror when I announce it’s ‘too big.’
“Too big. Too small. Isn’t anything just right, Phoebe?” he cries out dramatically, looking up to the ceiling with both hands outstretched.
“I know one thing that’s a perfect fit,” I tease him, letting my eyes stray down to his lap.
He reaches out for me and grabs my waist, making me giggle and gasp before he sits me down on his knees, which I shimmy back on until I feel him right where I want underneath my dress.
“Here,” I coo, leaning back so my head is resting against his chest, my hair falling all over him as he breathes me in.
“Here is just right,” I add, grinding down on him until he growls and I feel his huge hands sliding up past the hem of my dress, making me powerless to stop him.
Once his hands are between my legs I grip mine over the top of them, hitting pause just for a second.
I have something to tell Max.
“I mean this house, Max, out here in the country. This is just right too.” I explain.
He lets out a satisfied sound, relieved.
“Here with you and Trixie. Not too small and not too big. Just enough room for all of us.”
“I’m glad you’re happy baby,” he tells me, kissing my neck and tickling me with his stubble, but I’m not done.
“Max? Remember what you said about having a family of your own, about how your dad’s always hounding you to be a real dad to his grandbabies?”
“You don’t have to remind me of that,” Max smiles. “You heard him the last time he called, I’m almost wo
rried him and old Mrs. Peterson might adopt again if we don’t-”
But he stops.
He doesn’t say another word, because he doesn’t have to.
“You mean?” he asks, his hands sliding up to my belly, where I hold them as I nod my head.
“Three weeks overdue and the test was positive,” I hear myself tell him, not sure if this is even how I should be doing it.
He goes so quiet, I think maybe I’ve done it all wrong. That maybe it is too soon.
But then I feel his lips are on my neck. His hands hugging me closer.
“Oh, Phoebe. We’re gonna be a family? A real family?” he sniffs, and I can feel the tears from his cheeks on my neck before I turn myself around, straddling myself over his lap.
“Does that mean we can’t-” he starts to say, but I’m already smiling, shaking my head.
“No sir,” I inform him. “It’s precisely that I want to talk to you more about. It’s not like I’m gonna get any more pregnant now, is it?” I scold him, letting a hand fish between my legs as I feel for him.
But he looks shy for once.
Nervous even.
“I mean, are you sure it’s okay? I mean, what about… our baby?” he says again, the wonder showing in his eyes again as he presses a hand over my middle again, his mouth wide with amazement.
Seriously, I never thought he’d take it like this. I thought Maxwell Bear was a little bit more macho, but it’s super cute.
“Trixie knows,” I inform him, not wanting him to feel like he’s the last to know, but it was her who put me onto the idea in the first place.
“She senses everything about me, and I knew something was up once she started resting her head here,” I explain, making sure to hold Max’s hand there as long as he wants to.
“If you’re sure the house is okay too,” he adds, I can feel his heart pounding through his whole body as it tenses up. His grip on me tightens and he… he’s trembling.
“Max, what is it?” I ask him, almost worried now.
I know it’s good news but I’ve never seen him like this.
He lifts me up, gentle as a lamb, and stands me up before he gets down on one knee in front of me.
I choke up in a second, covering my mouth because I know what he’s about to do and it cancels out, beats my pregnancy announcement which is so not fair.
“Don’t you dare,” I warn him, my own eyes suddenly flood with tears as he takes my hands in his, and looking up at me he asks me to be his wife.
“I won’t have our babies without a mommy and daddy,” he says firmly. “Not even while they’re growing.”
I was expecting a big reaction from Max, sure. But I certainly wasn’t expecting this.
“Phoebe, let me finish,” he says. “We’ve known each other just this little while, but a part of me feels like we’ve known each other forever, just waiting to meet again. I wasn’t living before I met you, I was waiting. So just say yes darling. Just tell me we can start living from today, right now as man and wife to be. Just say you’ll marry me and I’ll never ask you for anything ever again. What do you say?” he asks, his eyes wide and shining with emotion.
My own tears streaming down my cheeks as I mouth the word ‘yes’ before he lifts me up again, kissing me so tenderly, it feels like the very first kiss.
Feels like I know it will from every day from this moment on.
Mr. and Mrs. Bear.
Papa Bear, Mamma Bear, and baby bear make three.
EPILOGUE
SIX MONTHS LATER
Maxwell
“I know you want to pay for the wedding Dad, and you will. Using this check,” I try and explain to him for the hundredth time.
He means well, and I know he wants to contribute, but the special day for my princess, for my queen?
It’s a little more than he can even afford.
“Look, it’s not even written out, a blank check. Take it and fill out the amount, deposit it in your account and then you can pay for the wedding, okay?” I try to reason with him, but it’s no use. He’s only getting more stubborn by the minute.
“We really don’t have time for this, Dad. The car will be here any minute and you haven’t even got your tie on,” I point out to him, feeling my first wave of nerves as I hear the car honking out front.
Early. Better than being late.
Checking myself in front of the mirror, I know I look ready. I know I am ready.
Then why the hell am I so worried?
It’s because Phoebe’s not here, that’s why.
For the first time in six months, I’m without my queen. Didn’t even get to spend last night with her either.
Dad has taken this whole traditional wedding thing way too serious, won’t even let me call her to see how she’s holding up but we’re almost in the home stretch.
A limo to the church and then a walk down the aisle and she’ll be mine. Properly mine. Forever mine.
If I don’t end up strangling my dad first.
It started with what I thought was ribbing, with dad insisting he pay for everything once we told him we were to be married before the baby came.
Then he wanted to move in, to redecorate the room for our baby, before we even know if it was a boy or a girl.
Now he’s trying to coordinate the whole wedding party on his own and won’t let me do anything, and he’s gonna make us late.
“Dad? I appreciate what you’re doing and I did say sorry about not letting you move in, but I will not let you railroad your way into my wife’s big day. You don’t know how to plan a picnic let alone a wedding, so will you please, back down and let someone who knows how to do their job?” I finally say, then wince.
The whole household grinding to a halt as my voice booms through the whole building. My dad hanging his head as his shoulders sag too.
He looks suddenly old.
Frail.
He’s quiet for a moment and I take a few breaths myself.
“Sorry Pop,” I start to say, but he stops me by holding up his hand.
“No, son. You’re right. I’ve been sticking my nose in where it’s not needed. It’s me who should be apologizing,” he says quietly.
“I’ve never even been married, not even close. And like you said, I couldn’t arrange a bunch of flowers let alone all this,” he sighs.
“I just want so much for you. And for Phoebe. Want to show you how proud I am and how much we all love you, son,” he says, looking up at me. Making me feel three inches high.
“I didn’t ask if I could help, did I son? I did, I just railroaded my way in. And for that I’m sorry. But what I’m not sorry for, Max is being the proudest, happiest man alive today. For seeing one of my son become a man and have something none of us ever did. A family of his own. A real family.”
“Oh, Dad,” I tell him, grabbing him in a bear hug and pulling him close to me.
“You are my family, you always were and always will be. Today we’re making it official and adding a few new members,” I tell him, not minding I’ve creased my suit or that he still hasn’t got his tie on yet.
“I’m sorry if I made it feel like you weren’t helping, I just want everything to be perfect for Phoebe, to show her how much I love her. How special she is, how much she deserves which is way more than I deserve her,” I explain to him.
“You deserve her, Max. And she deserves you. Now let’s get you to that church before we’re late. I can let all these other people do what they need to without some old fool getting in the way,” he says, a line of silver under one of his eyes.
“I’m the fool, Dad. For not reminding you how much you mean to me, how much you’ve really given me. Made me who I am today, I tell him.
“C’mon son. Let’s go get you married,” he says, taking my arm in his as we both walk towards the waiting limo.
“Thought you’d never get here,” Shane murmurs to my dad, helping him out of the car once we reach the church.
Dad is giving Phoebe away and m
y oldest brother Shane is the best man.
“Any later and I’d have to marry that girl myself,” Shane jokes to me.
“How is life at the factory?” I ask him, deliberately changing the subject away from my wife to be. Remembering it was perfect timing that he appeared and in need of a job right when Phoebe quit.
“I’m only kidding little brother,” he says, punching my arm. “No way would I get between Max Bear and what’s rightfully his now, would I?” he asks sincerely.
“No, I guess you wouldn’t,” I tell him, shaking the hand he’s offering before he hugs me, wishing me all the best and I silently wish the same for him too someday.
Everyone’s finally in position, and with my brother at my side, I wait at the altar, only wanting to hear that organ start playing, which it finally does.
I want to turn and watch her, want to see her in her dress, and her hair and how pretty I know she must look, but I daren’t move an inch.
Not until she’s standing right next to me, and I feel her tiny hand slip into mine.
Warm and trembling a little until my fingers curl around hers.
Our own silent vows already exchanged in a single touch before either of us says a word.
Forever mine and I’m hers for life. Through the good times and the better times. And all the times we’ll share in between.
The love of my life.
My best friend and now, my loving wife.
My Phoebe.
EXTENDED EPILOGUE
TWO YEARS LATER
Phoebe
“My turn,” Max mumbles, holding my arm and telling me to stay in bed as he gets up for the third, or is it fourth time tonight for little Amy?
The man’s a machine, but I really don’t mind getting up for the babies, it’s all part of the fun in having them growing up.
Our second, Peter starts to squawk, so I use that as an excuse to get up too. Trixie trotting behind me and in a few minutes it’s Max and me at the changing table in the early hours, babies gurgling as we change them before heading to the kitchen for a feed.
We’ve had plenty of practice, and it hasn’t always been so well-oiled.
Goldie Locks: A Steamy Standalone Instalove Romance Page 12