Until I Really Do

Chapter Thirty

"How do you feel about being Mrs. Steiner tomorrow?" Matthew asked, his arms curling around her thin waist as he buried his face in her neck, kissing her.

She giggled softly, pushing her elbow against his abdomen as she pulled away.  "I'm already Mrs. Steiner, Matthew." She said, pointing out the obvious. It was true; she was already a Steiner, but the knowledge of it did nothing to dampen his excitement over the thought of a wedding.

Somehow, Matthew never felt like their first marriage was real. There was always the dull feeling of guilt in his heart that haunted him, reminding him of her desperation when she had agreed to marry him the first time. Perhaps it hadn't even been an agreement, perhaps she had simply gone with the only option forced upon her.

But now, she was going to be his wife by choice, not by force. And there was almost no feeling on earth that could compete with how he felt.

"I know." A broad smile claimed his lips, his gaze holding hers. “I am just glad that this time, we get a traditional wedding with you in a dress, flowers, a cake, family, and friends. Do you know the best part, Blondie?" Reaching for her hand, he laced his fingers with hers, his smile broadening at the slight tilt of her brow in question. "I have your consent this time.” He murmured gently, leaning forward so that the warmth of her breath washed over his face. “I don't feel as if I'm forcing you. That, Blondie, will always be the best part."

He brushed her cheek, his finger curling a stray tendril of her hair around itself as he covered the small distance between their lips.

The kiss was brief; briefer than he would have liked. And when she pulled away, his smile was immediately replaced by a slight frown.

Her gaze fell to the wooden floors. “You should get back to work,” she said, dismissing him.

He watched her, confused by her strange behavior lately. He wasn't certain of when she started acting this way, but he knew it had been going on for a while.

Perhaps his family's presence had taken a bigger toll on her than he had initially realized? He knew he didn't exactly have the best family on earth, but he hadn't thought their coldness toward her would dampen her mood so much.

And to think his family was due to arrive the farm once again from San Francisco in only a few more hours!

Was that what bothered her so much? Did she not like the idea of having to tolerate their presence yet again for the wedding tomorrow?

Perhaps it was. He also found himself hoping his family would not extend their visit beyond a day after the wedding. Tolerating their presence for a few weeks the last time they were in Ferndale was bad enough, he didn't think he could survive yet another week with them, especially with his father.

He was still slightly offended by his father's initial proposal to divorce Sharon. It was clear to him that his father did not approve of his decision to forge ahead with the wedding, but he didn't care. All he cared about was this beautiful blonde head staring back at him with the most breathtaking ocean blue eyes he had ever seen, and lips that were impossible to resist.

But he needed to resist her for now. It appeared to him that for whatever reason known to her alone, she was eager to get rid of him. Perhaps it was so that she could get back to putting the finishing touches to her wedding dress? He knew she and Nana had worked for several weeks on the design.

"Yes Ma'am, I'll be out of your hair right away." He offered her a smile as he turned and walked out through the back door.

~*~

Greg Steiner took his hat off as he climbed out of the carriage late that evening. He had just concluded a meeting with his business partners in Ferndale town and decided that after the wedding the following day, he would be on his way back to San Francisco.

Indeed, the only reason he had agreed to return to Ferndale in the first place was because of the meeting he had with a business partner. If it was left to him, he would certainly not be on his silly son's farm, taking part in a wedding that was Matthew's ridiculous attempt at independence.

He didn't understand it; neither his son's decision to hold on to a dying farm, nor his decision to stay married to... Well, her! —he thought, his eyes settling on the object of his reverie.

She sat on the front porch, the oil lamp that hung just by the side of the front door, illuminating her features.

He thought in that moment how alike she was with her father; the drunk that had put up quite the show on the farm a few weeks ago. They shared the same features, a similar frown creasing her oval shaped face as she stared back at him. It must be a real shame to be associated with a man such as her father. It must especially be worse to look so terribly similar to him.

Which was why Greg could not understand his son's decision to stay married to her, thereby tying himself forever to her ruined family.

Rising slowly as he approached, she folded her arms before her, the frown on her face maintaining its position. "We need to talk.” She said, breaking the silence.

Greg raised a brow, slightly amused by her impudent approach. “We do?”

“Yes.” She shifted, moving her weight from one foot to the other.

“Whatever for?” Greg couldn't possibly see what the two of them could have in common to warrant a conversation between them. Didn't he already make it very clear that he did not approve of her relationship with his son? Wasn't his attitude toward her already dismissive enough? Exasperated, he waved her off. “I don't have the time for chit chatter. I already endured the torture of sitting through a long, boring meeting.” He said, stepping forward. He made to go past her.

"With due respect sir, I think you might want to hear what it is that I have to say."

Pausing in his tracks, he turned to her. His gaze ran down the length of her once more, cementing his earlier conclusion that she was not good enough for his family.

Yet, he did not think she would let him walk away from whatever conversation she appeared desperate to have with him. So, with one final sigh, he said, "Ten minutes."

"Two minutes is more than enough, sir."

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