Disclaimer: The characters and their world belong to Janet Evanovich. I'm just playing with them for fun and all mistakes are my own.

AN: In my last story, "Finding myself one piece at a time," Ranger mentions that Lester is an expert on Vegas weddings because he's been married there three times – to the same woman. A few people have asked for Lester's story, so here 'tis. I was a little unkind to Helen Plum in the first part, but neither she nor Morelli are harmed in this story. Steph and Ranger have their HEA, so in the tradition of all annoyingly happy couples, they want Lester to have his HEA.

Oh, and shout out to Vulcan Rider, who guessed what Ranger said to Helen when they were alone in the kitchen in installment 11 of "Finding myself one piece at a time." I imagined that Ranger's words to Mrs. Plum went something like this: "I love Stephanie, and you're wrong about one thing – I fully intend to marry her when and if she's ever ready. You're her mother and she loves you, but hear me now – if you keep browbeating and speaking to her like you did tonight, I won't hesitate to do everything I can to protect her, even if that means moving with her to Miami and losing your number."

Chapter 1: What happens in Vegas...

Lester's POV

I stepped out into the main terminal of the Las Vegas McCarran airport and stopped to get my bearings. Maybe I was momentarily distracted by the group of nuns that had just hit the jackpot ten feet to my left, but it took me several seconds to realize that the loud ringing I was hearing was my phone and not the slot machines that lined the concourse.

I checked the display and bit back a curse. Dios, if I didn't like Beautiful so much, I would've told my cousin where to shove his 'special assignment.' Good God, how did Stephanie put up with this? I'd already talked to Helen Plum three times before leaving New Jersey and I'd just seen where she'd left a couple of voicemails while we were in the air.

The nuns were still partying, so I hit accept and started toward the airport exit. "Ms. Plum, what can I do for you?" I asked in my best soothing voice – the one I use for difficult clients and hookups who want to stick around past breakfast.

"You have to talk some sense into my daughter!" I winced and held the phone away from my ear as the not so dulcet tones of Helen Plum's voice came pouring out of the handset. Jesus, did she have to be so shrill? The woman could break glass with that voice.

"Mrs. Plum…" I tried to cut her off, but she was already on a roll.

"Who gets married in Las Vegas, anyway? Mobsters and reality show bimbos, that's who!" She exclaimed, answering her own question.

I pulled the phone further away from my ear and one of my travelling companions snickered. I shot a glare at Jorgenson and he immediately sobered. That's right, asshole. Keep laughing and I'll put you on the phone.

When she began to rant that the Plums and Mazurs always got married at Sacred Heart, I'd had enough. "Stop," I growled in a voice I usually reserve for Vinnie Plum and other criminals. "Stephanie is an adult and you have exactly two choices. You can smile and watch your daughter get married over the video link we are setting up for you, or you can continue to harp about how Stephanie's cousin didn't get married in Las Vegas and keep on alienating your daughter. What you can't do is stop this wedding." I checked my watch discreetly. It was 1600 hours local time, and if everything had gone as scheduled, Ric and Stephanie should be on their way back from the Marriage License Bureau by now. I'd even filled out the forms myself for them online, so they shouldn't have had to wait.

The line was silent, except for the sound of her sucking in a breath. "I can't believe you said that!" She exclaimed.

Yeah, and I wanted to say a hell of a lot more, but my mother had taught me better. I braced myself for another tirade, but she surprised me with her next words.

"He's actually going to move her away from me, like he said, isn't he?" She asked, suddenly sounding very small and lost. "To Florida, I mean."

I almost dropped the phone as the pieces to a puzzle that had been stumping me for the last few months fell into place. So that's how mi primo had gotten Mama Plum to lay off of Beautiful. It was pure genius, and I had no doubt he'd do his best to convince Steph to move to Miami if Helen continued to push them, either. I shook my head ruefully at that thought, since I had no doubt my cousin could be very persuasive when he wanted to.

At that moment, I felt just a little bit sorry for Helen, which is the only explanation for why my next words slipped out. "They have no plans to leave the Trenton area," I told her. In fact, Ric had had Ella scouring the real estate listings for the last couple of weeks, but there was no way I was going to tell Steph's mother that. "But you and I both know plans can change with the right motivation," I warned her.

"I know he said he intended to marry her, but did they really have to sneak around like this?" She asked plaintively.

I signaled for Hector to hold the cab for a second. It was past time to shut down this conversation, but I didn't want to do this with him and Jorgenson listening in. "They're not sneaking around Mrs. Plum." When she didn't answer immediately, I sighed. "Seriously, I have a feeling this was a spur of the moment decision. Was Stephanie engaged the last time you saw her?" Stephanie's annual birthday dinner and guilt-fest at the Plums had been the night before, and I knew for a fact that my cousin hadn't proposed until this morning.

"Well, Stephanie has always been impulsive…."

I hid a snort. True, but I wasn't going to admit it to the woman who'd more than likely driven Beautiful to elope in the first place. "Ramon should be there any minute to set up the link, if you still want to watch your daughter get married."

I hung up shortly after and piled into the cab behind Hector and Hal. "Tell me again why I got wedding and Helen Plum duty?"

"Because el jefe had me block the Plum's number from Estephania's phone for today," Hector said with a smirk. "And you got wedding duty because you're so good at them. How many times you been married here? Four, five?"

It was three, but I wasn't going to tell him that. Instead, I just flipped him off and checked my text messages. I had two from clients and one from an old buddy of mine who's an assistant manager at the Bellagio. They'd had to scramble to find an Elvis impersonator at the last minute, but since I'd promised him a hefty bonus, everything was set for Steph and Ric's wedding. I shot back a quick reply to thank him and arranged to meet up in the casino later, after his shift. No one knows how to party like Raphael Soto, and I had a feeling I'd be ready for a little distraction after the happy event.

Speaking of letting loose… I checked the time on my phone as we pulled up to the Bellagio. It was 1645 hours, and the wedding wasn't until 1730; plenty of time for a drink.

A couple of hours later, I let myself out Ric and Stephanie's suite. It had been a beautiful wedding, and I'm not just talking about how the lake and fountain sparkled in the distance, or how Elvis' jumpsuit glowed in the setting sun. Or even how Helen Plum had just kept her mouth shut and smiled through the post-wedding congratulations. What was really beautiful was how Ric and Steph looked at each other as they said 'I do' – like the other person was their whole world. I'd known, academically, that they loved each other, but after tonight, I had a feeling that this was the real, forever, with a capital 'L' kind of love.

As happy as it made me that my cousin had found his match, another part of me was a little sad as I remembered other wedding days and a lot of missed opportunities. Well, that was all in the past, I mused as I so thoughtfully placed the 'Do Not Disturb' sign over their door knob. And it wouldn't do to dwell on what could've been when the night was still young and the craps tables were calling my name.

But, the fates had to flip me the finger just then. I turned the corner to head to my own suite, and ran right into the part of my past I'd like to forget the most. I grabbed the woman just before she hit the floor and found myself looking down into a set of deep brown eyes I'd only seen in my dreams, lately.

"You!" She spat as we righted ourselves. "How dare you show your face?"

"What are you doing here?" I asked at the same time, as I hungrily took in all the details of her appearance – heart shaped face, smooth tan skin, and a rockin' body that even her shapeless polo shirt and khakis couldn't hide. Mariela Sanchez and I hadn't seen each other for a couple of years, but she was still as beautiful as ever.

"I work here now," she told me as she gestured toward her name tag that read 'Security Officer.' "What I want to know is why you're in my town?"

"Jesus," I muttered under my breath. "It's not like you got custody of Vegas in the divorce." When she just glared at me, I raked my hands through my hair. "I'm sorry Mari, but I thought you were still at Caesar's."

Her lips twitched slightly in an unwilling smile, but she wasn't giving an inch. "That still doesn't explain why you're here."

I smiled slightly. She was still as feisty as ever. I wanted to kiss and bite at that stubborn lower lip, but instead I just shrugged. "My cousin just got married downstairs."

Her eyes widened slightly. "Ric got married? I'd love to meet the woman who managed that – I always figured he'd never let anyone catch him!"

There was a snort of laughter behind us, and we both turned to find a curly-haired brunette smiling at us. "If you ask him, he'd say it was the other way around, so please don't burst his bubble," Steph said as she extended her hand. "Stephanie Plum – uh, I guess it's Mañoso, now," she said with a particularly charming grin.

I didn't like the look of speculation in Beautiful's eyes, so I took over the introductions. "Mari, you've probably already worked out that this is Ric's wife. Steph, this is Mariela Sanchez. She's … an old friend of mine," I finished, lamely.

It was Mari's turn to snort. "That's what you call it?" She shot me a look that promised long, painful retribution, and not in a good, sexy way. "Les may be my ex-husband, but we're definitely not friends."

The look of glee that lit up Steph's features was enough to make me want to run and hide. "Uh, don't you have a honeymoon to start?" I asked as I tried to subtly steer her back toward her room.

The amount of heat that she and Ric had been generating the last couple of hours had already sent Hector scurrying to the casino and Hal back to airport to the catch the red eye back to Newark. I was made of sterner stuff, so I'd stuck around until Ric had threatened to break my legs for me if I'd didn't find somewhere else to be.

Steph rolled her eyes. "Sure, but I wanted to catch you to see if you could join us for breakfast before we flew out tomorrow." She cast her eyes toward Mari. "I'm sure Carlos would love to say hello, and I'd love to get to know you better, so you could join us?" Steph grinned evilly. "We could trade embarrassing Lester stories."

And because my life is seriously fucked, Mari actually agreed to come for brunch in Ric and Steph's suite at 1100 hours the next morning. My attendance was presumed, and I knew that I'd be there, if only for damage control.

L&M~L&M~L&M

The pounding in my head was the first indication that something was up. My second clue was me waking up in my suite with a very familiar cloud of hair tickling my nose. I lay perfectly still until the drum line in my head began to recede and I could focus on running through the events of the last 24 hours. I'd flown into Vegas for Ric and Steph's wedding. Then I'd literally run into my ex in the hall, and spent the rest of the night brooding over a single glass of scotch.

So if I hadn't been drinking, why did I feel like five kinds of crap? I'd gone to bed fairly early and when I couldn't sleep, had hit the gym for a few hours before brunch with the happy couple. And because I'd known better than to avoid Stephanie when she had that look in her eye, is, I'd manned up and shown up at their suite a full ten minutes early for the full Stephanie Plum inquisition.

Mari moaned and stirred slightly in my arms, bringing me back to the present. I vaguely remembered spending a very awkward half hour staring at her from the other side of the breakfast table, but I didn't have the slightest clue as to how we ended up in bed together. Last I checked, Hell was still a blazing inferno. Mari moaned again and then wiggled her pert little bottom against my crotch, making certain parts of me perk up in interest. Sure, most of me was still wondering how I got here, but little Les was telling me to just shut up and enjoy it for a freakin' second.

So that's what I did. I buried my nose into her smooth, silky, dark hair just like I'd done on other mornings and let my mind drift to better days.

"Did you just smell me?" Mari snarled as she began to wiggle out of my hold.

"Jesus! No," I lied as I let her go and flopped onto my back. "I was thinking about the first time we woke up like this."

She chuckled softly. "Yeah. I remember thinking 'Oh, God, I'm a cliché now."

I smiled. "Yeah, good times." The first time I remember meeting Mari was in a hotel room a lot like this, with a pounding head and a brand new wedding ring. It was a story almost as old as Vegas itself. Boy decides to spend the last 48 hours his leave playing a little black jack with his buddies in Sin City, and gets a little drunk. Then boy meets girl, they both get a lot drunker, and end up saying 'I do' at the Graceland Wedding chapel at 3 AM.

I didn't remember repeating that part of the past, but I checked my left hand anyway. "At least we didn't wake up married, this time."

She smacked me on my shoulder. Hard. "Good for you, because I promised myself the next time I got married it'd end in widow-hood."

Ouch, and I just don't mean the fact that I could already feel a bruise forming. The pounding in my head was mostly gone, so I gingerly sat up and looked around. "Well, since you're not going to fulfill that particular dream anytime soon, let's work on getting us out of here." There was a note on the nightstand closest to me, so I picked it up and began to read.

Mari sat up and snorted. "Even I can answer that, pendejo. We use the door."

I shook my head and handed her the note. "You don't know my friends very well." And because it'd always driven her crazy when I looked over her shoulder, I scooted a little closer and re-read the note Stephanie had so thoughtfully left us.

Les, you once told me that real friends always look out for you – even if it means doing things that at first glance aren't very nice, Steph wrote. I suppressed a snort at that. When I'd told her that, I'd been talking about throwing her around on the mats so she could learn to defend herself. In no way could locking your buddy Lester up in a hotel room with his slightly hostile ex be called an act of friendship. But of course, there was more.

I could tell last night and this morning that you and Mari have a lot of unfinished business, so we wanted to give you the chance to talk things over. Closure is good, right? There's plenty to eat in the fridge – and it's real food since I stocked it for you. Ranger wanted me to let you know that the room is secure.

Huh. It was more likely we were locked in with no way out, if I knew mi primo.

Ric had tacked on a post script: I'm delaying my honeymoon for this, so you'd better work things out to Steph's satisfaction. Hector is monitoring the room in case there are any problems.

Sure enough, there was a camera mounted over the doorway to the bedroom, so I let my middle finger tell them exactly how I felt about the situation.