A/N: Last month, xoc13 issued a challenge for a story with a bare-chested Ranger. Happy belated birthday, xoc13.
Huge thanks to Dog in the Manger for her expert editing/beta skills and her never-ending patience. Hugs to Margaret for reading ahead and always pushing for a HEA.
Finally, to all of those of you who are suffering from record low temperatures and blizzard conditions, here is a bit of sun.
The sun was a blazing orange orb in the cloudless blue sky. Although it wasn't quite nine in the morning, the air was heavy and humid. From the beads of sweat on the back of my neck, I guessed it must be nearly a hundred degrees. The leaves of a nearby palm tree twitched in the almost non-existent breeze and in the distance, I heard the squawk of a macaw and the chattering of monkeys.
I took a deep breath, catching the scent of eucalyptus, and closed my eyes, just for a second, trying to find my zone.
Admittedly, I should have been more aware of my surroundings. I'm ashamed to admit that the deep male voice caught me completely off guard.
"Welcome to our jungle, Mr. Mañoso," the voice said. "We plan to take very good care of you today… you and your little family."
The man who stood in front of me was at least six feet tall and well-built, although I guessed him to be nearly sixty years old. He had a bald head, a pencil thin moustache, and a long yellow and white snake wrapped around his shoulders. And he was smiling.
"I'm Alex Ballesteros, the general manager and senior veterinarian here at Jungle Island Miami." He reached out and shook my hand. "You have a lovely wife and daughter. I bet you were surprised when they told you what they had planned for your birthday."
Instead of answering him, I wondered briefly if he would be surprised to know that the blond woman by my side was actually my ex-wife, and another man was legally the father of the excited twelve-year old girl who was clutching my arm and bouncing on her toes. The twelve-year old girl with the long black hair and dark eyes who was the spitting image of me.
"You have no idea," I told him finally.
"You know, we don't normally schedule our VIP safari tours without a credit card, but when we heard the name Julie Mañoso—"
I turned away from him to look at Julie, one eyebrow raised. She just shrugged and gave me the "Who me? I'm innocent," look that I had seen so often from my sisters when we were growing up. Julie's mother, Rachel Martine, couldn't seem to decide if she were amused or annoyed by our daughter's new surname. Old surname. Whatever.
Oblivious to the little family drama unfolding, Dr. Ballesteros droned on. "Of course, you know that your grandfather's construction company did a lot of work on our original Red Road location, and your abuela volunteered there for many years. We would love to have a new generation of the Mañoso family involved with us here at the new Jungle Island."
I nodded, pulling a black Amex from my wallet. For decades, my grandparents had lived in Pinehurst, within walking distance of the famed Florida tourist attraction once known as the Parrot Jungle. We'd always made at least one stop there on our semiannual visits to Miami to visit my father's parents. While my sisters were enchanted with the kitschy Parrot Circus, with its roller-skating macaws and Pinky the Cockatoo who rode a tiny red bicycle along a high wire, I preferred watching the birds in a more natural setting.
When I moved to Miami as a troubled teenager, my grandmother made it her mission to teach me about the flora, as well as the fauna of the Parrot Jungle. It was rumored that the gardens held more than a thousand species of tropical plants, and I'd learned about many of them when we'd worked as volunteer gardeners on weekends.
Of course, Julie couldn't have known any of that when she planned for us to spend the day at Jungle Island as the zoological park had been renamed with the move to Watson Island. I'd read in the paper that the original Pinehurst location had been re-invented as a botanical garden.
Ballesteros held up his hands when he saw my credit card. "Oh you don't need to worry about that, Mr. Mañoso. Your daughter told us just to send an invoice to RangeMan Miami…"
When I didn't answer immediately, his brow furrowed a bit. "That's not a problem, is it?"
"Is it, Ranger-Dad?" Julie asked, beginning to look a little worried herself.
At some point, I knew I was going to have to set some limits with Julie about using RangeMan's reputation and her Mañoso lineage to her advantage. But not today.
"No problem at all," I assured both of them. "Did my daughter tell you that we're actually celebrating two birthdays today? Julie and I were both born on August twelfth."
I stopped short of explaining our unusual custody arrangement to him. Rachel and I had divorced shortly after Julie's birth, and she wasn't quite two when Rachel had married Ron Martine. Rachel had begged me to let Ron adopt Julie, arguing that the girl was entitled to grow up with a "real" dad rather than a stepdad. At the time, I had just finished Special Forces training and was looking at a high-risk mission that could last eighteen months or longer if I were lucky. I had agreed, wondering if I would survive long enough to be a "real" anything to my daughter. But I didn't give up hope, I silently reminded myself.
Although Julie now bore Ron's name, I still supported my daughter financially, sending a generous child support check every month. My legal visitation rights, according to the official court documents, included every other Christmas and at least eight hours every August 12. "Be a part of Julie's life but do your best to minimize disruption to her normal routine," the judge in family court had admonished me at the time of the adoption.
The latter proved to be a logistical challenge, especially related to birthday celebrations. Early on, my parents and I had attended a few awkward family gatherings with the Martines. Since Julie clearly had a full-time dad, I adopted the role of benevolent godfather, appearing infrequently, always bearing extravagant gifts. In later years, I simply chose a different day in August to celebrate Julie's birthday with her, not wanting to separate her from her parents and siblings on such an important day.
That worked until Julie met Stephanie. The time they had shared in the captivity of Edward Scrog really had been a time for… sharing. Stephanie had let slip that my birthday was the same as Julie's. It had been Julie's idea that we spend the day together this year.
"Two birthdays?" Ballesteros shook his head and gave Julie a mock frown. "I'm afraid Miss Mañoso left out that little detail." He adjusted the snake around his neck so he could look into the creature's eyes. "Well, Sylvester. I think this calls for a change in our plan."
The Jungle Island VIP Safari is billed as a 90-minute, behind-the-scenes tour that allows visitors to get "up close and personal" with many of the park's rare and exotic animals. Our tour lasted nearly three hours and was hosted by Dr. Ballesteros himself.
Although Julie was apprehensive when Ballesteros handed her a baby alligator, showing her how hold the little reptile so he couldn't nip at her, she squealed with delight at the kangaroo exhibit. She hugged a baby kangaroo to her chest, giggling as it nibbled on a grape she held in her fingers. She released the joey reluctantly and only after our guide told her it was playtime at the lemur exhibit.
"We're going to see red ruffed lemurs," she told me excitedly, lacing her fingers through mine as we walked down shady path to the exhibit. "In the wild, they live only in Madagascar. Have you ever been there?"
I have her a slight nod. I'd been to Madagascar once, but the op was still classified. I certainly hadn't seen any lemurs on that trip.
"They're endangered, silly. Of course, you didn't see any." Officially, Julie may be a Martine, but she still had the Mañoso gift of ESP.
The highlight of the tour, though, was an unscheduled stop at Jungle Island's medical clinic. Sasha, one of the park's snow leopards, had just given birth to twins. Julie stood next to Dr. Ballestero's assistant as she gave the cubs their first medical exam.
"You two must be very proud. You're daughter is amazing," Ballesteros said as we looked on from the adjoining observation area.
"Thank you," Rachel said. "I am." She glanced at me. "We are." It was understandably hard for Rachel to think of us as a "we."
"She told me that wants to study veterinary medicine at the University of California-Davis," he continued. "That's my alma mater."
"So far away." Although Julie was only twelve, her mother was beginning to look slightly panicked. I was calmer. Six years would be plenty of time to expand RangeMan to the west coast.
"I thought the University of Florida had a School of Veterinary Medicine," Rachel said.
"They do," he confirmed. "It's just that Davis is the best school in the country for learning to take care of exotic animals like we have here at Jungle Island." Dr. Ballesteros rubbed his bald head a little and grinned. "Hope you have a college savings fund for Julie. The best schools cost a pretty penny."
"We do," I answered without hesitation. Rachel looked positively ill. "I do," I tried to reassure my ex-wife quietly.
At the end of our tour, Julie was vibrating with excitement. "Best. Birthday. Ever."
I couldn't disagree. "What's next, Querida?"
"We don't have to leave?" Julie chewed on her bottom lip and looked at me uncertainly.
"It's our birthday. We can do whatever you want."
"I want to go to La Playa." Her voice was almost a whisper. "Did you know Jungle Island has it's own beach that overlooks Biscayne Bay? They have waterslides, but I think I just want to hang out on the sand, maybe swim a little. I wore my swim suit under my clothes just in case you said yes." She glanced at her mom. "We didn't get to spend a lot of time at the beach this summer."
I looked at Rachel questioningly. How doesn't a kid growing up in Miami get enough time at the beach?
"The beach is a forty minute drive for us, Julie." We don't have a house on the beach in Coral Gables, I think she added silently. "But now that you mention it, some time relaxing in the sun sounds good. Then maybe we could get a bite to eat. I saw a café near the entrance."
"So here's the thing," Julie said, hands on her hips. "There's nothing that even resembles birthday cake in this place. I already checked. So we're going to have to make do with other kinds of treats today."
My daughter looked from her mother to me, big doe eyes and a slight smile on her face. It was the same face Stephanie gave me when she wanted to eat Tastykakes in the Porsche during a stakeout. "Please? Pretty, pretty please?"
"You're going to have to ask your father about that," Rachel said.
"We'll see," I said, hint of a smile in return.
"Nice," Rachel muttered after Julie had drifted to the water's edge to build a sand castle. "You've certainly mastered that part of parenting."
"It only took twelve years, right? Better late than never?" I tried to keep my tone light and my temper in check, not wanting to spoil what had been a terrific day.
"Sorry," Rachel said as she sank down into a white deck chair beneath a lime green beach umbrella. "That came out snarkier than I intended." She rummaged around in her canvas purse and pulled out a pair of sunglasses. "I'm really grateful that you let me tag along today."
"Not a problem," I said, kicking off my shoes and slipping my t-shirt over my head before I sat in the chair next to her. Although I did own beachfront property in Coral Gables, I rarely had time to sit on the sand and stare at the water. Water that today was as blue as Stephanie's eyes. Might as well enjoy it.
"No, really. This is your day with Julie, and you would have been well within your rights to say no." Rachel had slipped out of her sundress and now was fiddling with the strap on the swimsuit she had worn underneath.
"When Ron decided to take the younger kids to Sarasota to visit his parents, I thought I would love having an entire day to myself. But when I woke up this morning, I hated the thought of being away from her."
Join the club, I thought, battling a dozen years of regret. Shielded by my own pair of RayBans, I studied my ex-wife. Realizing I hardly knew her anymore, I wondered if I'd ever truly known her.
She was wearing a sensible, one-piece swimsuit today, a black tank with white tropical flowers. When had Rachel given up wearing bikinis? Even after three kids, she still had her figure. Stretch marks? I tried unsuccessfully to remember if I had ever seen her naked after Julie was born.
Definitely different than Stephanie's taste in swimwear. I recalled the little bikini Steph had worn in Hawaii. Azure triangles barely big enough to cover her breasts. A tiny bikini bottom held together by two slim gold chains over each hip.
I fished my phone out of the pocket of my board shorts on the pretext of looking at the time and instead snuck a look at a photo taken of Stephanie on the beach during that trip. Dios. I willed my body to behave, but I'm not sure how successful I was. A twenty-something, well-tanned lifeguard was making rounds on the beach, and he shot Rachel a thumbs-up. "Lucky bitch," he mouthed to her.
Rachel smirked at him, returning his gesture. I reluctantly put my phone away and tried to concentrate on Julie as she decorated her sandcastle with shells and bits of seaweed.
"Ballesteros was right, you know," I said. "We really do have an amazing daughter."
"Agreed."
"She's beautiful and smart. I know plenty of adults who don't have half her determination or her focus…" I trailed off, suddenly remembering Scrog. Or her courage.
"Good genes," Rachel replied softly.
"I'm serious, you… you and Ron, have both done a great job raising her."
Instead of answering, Rachel rolled on her side so she was looking at me, and she reached out to touch my arm.
"Carlos, would you please put some suntan lotion on my back?"
I was already sitting up, ready to say yes, when I noticed the look Rachel was giving me. Fluttery eye lashes. Pouty bottom lip. Shit.
There was a long moment of silence and then Rachel came to her senses. "Scratch that," she said. "I'll ask Julie when she comes back." She laughed a little and looked sheepish. "Temporary moment of insanity."
"It's suntan lotion," I said evenly, trying to diffuse the tension.
"Yes and no," she answered. "I remember what it's like to have your hands on me. That's a luxury I can't afford."
"Rachel," I began and then I hesitated. I started to tell her no price, but that wasn't and hadn't really ever been true. Honestly, that was only true with one woman.
"That's been a long time," I said instead.
"Apparently not long enough."
I let two beats of silence pass. "You and Ron OK?"
"Fine," she answered, "No problems. None at all."
I took off my sunglasses and stared at her. "Truth?"
"Scout's honor. He's my best friend. He's a faithful husband and a devoted father." She hesitated for a moment. "The sex is good."
"Good?" Unbidden, images of Stephanie in my bed popped into my mind. The sex was life changing and mind blowing if frustratingly infrequent. I thought that would change after she finally called it quits with Morelli but-
Rachel had turned to face me again, sliding her legs off the beach chair to bury her toes in the sand between our chairs. "Omigod, Carlos, you're not asking what I think you are?"
"Hmm?" Did Stephanie talk to Mary Lou about having sex with me? I wondered, only half-listening to Rachel. God forbid, did she describe it as 'good'?
"Are you asking me to compare having sex with Ron to sex with you?"
"Christ, Rachel. Of course not. What purpose would that serve?" I certainly didn't waste any time comparing Stephanie to my previous lovers. When I was with her, it was difficult to remember that I'd even been with other women-
"No purpose at all," Rachel answered, interrupting my internal ramblings. "Besides, that was so long ago, I hardly remember."
The flush on her neck and her upper chest told me she was lying, but I wasn't going to say anything that was going to prolong this conversation.
"So how's Stephanie?"
Mierda! Rachel's sudden change of topic caught me off guard. My Babe had an endearing habit of mumbling her innermost thoughts out loud. If I'd pulled a "Stephanie," I suspected Rachel would be pissed. And hurt. I opted for a simple answer and hoped for the best. "Fine."
"You know, Julie was hoping she was going to come to Miami with you. That's actually why she reserved three tickets for today."
I shrugged. "She's been busy at work."
"And her boss wouldn't let her take any time off?"
"She only works for RangeMan part-time. She's still works as a bounty hunter for her cousin."
Rachel shook her head. "You didn't even invite her, did you? Still keeping her at arms length?"
"Rachel, it's complicated."
"Right. I've heard that before." She looked both angry and sad, and I wasn't sure what made me feel worse.
"I'm not exactly family material—"
"Is that so?" she smirked at me. "You could have fooled me, your daughter and just about everyone else here today."
As if on cue, Julie looked up from her nearly completed sand castle and gave us a little finger wave.
"My job—"
"Is a pain in the ass and not even a worthy excuse anymore."
Not knowing what to say to that, I slumped back in my chair and stared at the water.
"Hey," she said more softly. "I'm not going to pretend that I understand what you do for a living. But unlike some other men I know, you seem to enjoy your job, and by all accounts you're good at what you do." Yet again, I wondered what the hell was going on with Ron, but Rachel didn't give me a chance to ask.
"You're a good provider," she continued softly. "You don't seem to have any trouble supporting your first family, and I suspect, you could easily support a second family with Stephanie if you ever got your head out of your ass."
Ah ha. Ron must be having trouble at work, and I would bet the Martines were struggling financially. It was a relief to realize that Rachel wasn't craving me as much as she craved the financial security that my job could provide.
My thoughts drifted once again to Stephanie and her cravings. I had once flippantly offered to get her pregnant, and we had both laughed, pretending it was a joke. Occasionally though, I imagined her absentmindedly caressing a beautifully round baby bump, soothing our imaginary unborn child. Since her normal food pyramid rested solidly on junk food, I imagined her pregnancy cravings would run toward quinoa and broccoli. She would definitely swear that it was all my fault, I thought, unable to keep a grin off my face.
Rachel cleared her throat. "You still with me Carlos?"
"I don't even know if Stephanie wants a family," I finally said.
My ex-wife gave me an eye roll that would have made a Jersey girl proud. "Take it from an expert, Carlos. You are not an easy man to love. If you've found someone who can actually do it, don't let her get away."
oOoOo
It was after five when we finally pulled into the driveway at the Martine home. We had compromised on food at Jungle Island, settling on fruit smoothies and a large order of sweet potato fries with chimichurri sauce. By two, we'd all had enough of the beach and the park, but I hadn't had nearly enough time with Julie. It was pretty easy to convince the girls to make a leisurely stop in nearby South Beach for fish tacos and birthday flan.
After we all climbed out of the car, there was an awkward moment when we just stood and looked at one another. Then Julie flung her arms around my neck and hugged me tightly. "Thank you, Ranger-Dad," she whispered. "This was the best birthday ever. From now on, I hope we can always celebrate our birthdays together."
"I'd like that, Querida."
For a moment, Rachel looked as if she wanted to give me a hug too, but at the last moment, she changed her mind and pulled Julie into her arms instead.
"Thanks for a fun day, Carlos. Think about what I said, OK?"
I gave her a quick nod and waited until both of them entered the house before I slid behind the wheel of the BMW and started the engine. With a final wave at Julie, who remained at the front door, her nose pressed to the glass, I put the car in reverse and backed out of the driveway.
I tapped a button on the CD player and the soft chords of Bossa Nova jazz guitar filled the car. I hadn't been able to find my zone all day, but maybe on the thirty-minute drive back to the house in Coral Gables…
Before I made it to the end of street, I shut off the CD and parked at the curb. I pulled out my phone, checked an app and sent a text. Then I hit speed dial one and held my breath. After a single ring, I heard a sleepy, "'Lo."
"Hi, Babe. It sounds like I woke you. Were you napping?"
"Just resting my eyes, really." Her husky tone contradicted her words. "Lula and I went after Andy Gimp again today, and I had to chase him six blocks!"
I was happy that I hadn't decided to FaceTime her because I couldn't keep the grin off my face. Gimp was a serial exhibitionist and at least eighty years old.
"Hey, he's really in shape for an old guy!" Steph protested, showing off her own ESP skills. "The last block was through the new fountains at Cadwalader Park, but I finally got him though."
"Proud of you, Babe," I murmured. "You always get your man."
"Hey, happy birthday," she said, sounding much more awake. I pictured her sitting up in bed, stretching her arms over her head, her nipples straining under one of my black t-shirts that we both pretended she hadn't filched from my closet. "Did you have fun with Julie?"
"It was great," I answered honestly. "If could have been perfect if you had been here with me."
"Ah, well." She seemed at a loss for words. "Someday, huh?"
The wistfulness in her voice caused a pain in my chest so sharp that I could barely catch my breath.
"About that." I cleared my throat. "Today would be better." There was silence on her end, so I forged on.
"There's a non-stop flight to Miami leaving Newark at 8:25 tonight. And a first class ticket with your name on it is waiting for you at check-in. You'll be here in time for dinner."
"Dinner?" she protested. That's my Babe. She always has her priorities straight. "That flight won't land much before midnight, Ranger—"
"Eleven-fifteen, actually. Versailles serves some of the best Cuban food in Miami, and they're open until 3:30 am, so if we go straight from the airport we'll have plenty of time." I couldn't resist teasing her a little bit. "I know that's later than you normally eat, but I'm sure they'll serve you a snack on the plane to tide you over."
From the way the background noise changed, I imagined that Stephanie had scrambled off her bed and was moving around her apartment. I hoped the rustle I heard was the sound of her closet opening, and the thunk was her overnight bag being pulled from a shelf and tossed onto the floor.
"This is a crazy idea. That ticket must have cost you a fortune and…" She paused, and the background noise ceased. "I can't come to Miami. I have to work tomorrow."
"Didn't Tank tell you? The research division at RangeMan is closed tomorrow in honor of the founder's birthday."
For a good twenty seconds, she was silent. "You can't be serious. You made that up."
"I swear. Ask any of the guys if you don't believe me." Manny, Binkie, Silvio… hell, half the guys at RangeMan could take the day off too if it helped her get on that plane.
I imagined her, standing in the middle of her bedroom, biting on her lower lip while she debated about texting Manny. "I don't even know what to pack," she finally said.
"Tomorrow, we could spend the day at the beach," I said, remembering the turquoise bikini. "Or maybe, if you were interested, we could visit the gardens my abuela used to take me to when I lived with her in Miami."
"I'd like that," she finally said, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Tank was already on his way to her apartment so that he could drive her to the airport.
oOoOo
It was after midnight and technically no longer my birthday when the waiter at Versailles served us a large piece of tres leches cake topped with a single flickering candle.
"You should blow out the candle and make a wish," Steph told me.
"Why?" I asked, forking a piece of cake into her mouth. "All of my wishes came true the minute you stepped off that plane."
"Is that so?" The tip of her pink tongue darted out, licking a bit of frosting from her lower lip, and I couldn't help but wish that I had gotten there first. Her words gave me pause though. She was here in my arms now, and I hoped she'd be in my bed tonight, but we hadn't talked about anything beyond our plans for the upcoming day. Would she be on board with my plan to never let her go?
"Hey," she giggled. "Candle wax is dripping on the cake. Hurry up. This is your chance to wish for your heart's desire." She snuggled into my side and glanced up at me through lowered lashes, daring me to tell her what I really wanted.
Challenge accepted, Babe. Hope you're ready for this. I pressed a quick kiss against her lips, closed my eyes, and wished for everything I thought I would never have.
Happy Birthday to me.
