A/N: I have to tell you, I was a little verklempt (Yiddish word meaning overcome with emotion—and yes, that's your word of the day!) both by the wonderfully positive response to my story introduction, and by the number of you who took the time to post a review. I am humbled, and I thank all of you.
While this story is still a work in progress, the rough draft is over 80 percent finished, and as most of you know, I post weekly, on Fridays.
Now enough babbling from me, on with the story!
Chapter 2
Ranger stared down at the destruction of his once elegantly made bed. Two pillows were on the floor, one was wedged between the headboard and mattress, another tucked under Steph's bent knee. The duvet had long since fallen off the foot of the bed and the sheet was wadded up in a ball near her cheek. The woman herself was centered on the king sized mattress, belly down, an explosion of limbs and curls with no discernable face.
Picking up one of the pillows, Ranger shook out the sheet and settled into the 24 inches of space she'd left him.
His mind was still going a hundred miles a minute and it killed him that he didn't have a plan, or at least someone's ass to kick until he had a plan. Tank had already taken responsibility for the ass kicking prior to turning in Steph's skip. He'd also pulled strings to make sure the asshole wouldn't make bail again. Probably saved the fucker's life.
As he suspected, the doctor refused to release any information without Stephanie's permission, both verbal and in writing. He'd had no qualms about waking up the good doctor. At the same time, it didn't seem right to disturb Steph.
Why hadn't he asked her any medical questions when he'd first gotten home, before she went to sleep? Maybe it was because he was happy to see that she seemed … okay. Okay for not really being Stephanie. Maybe it was because this new Stephanie intrigued him, perhaps offering him a glimpse of the parts that Old Stephanie hid.
Or maybe it was because he'd been walking in a fog, having not slept in over 48 hours. With that thought, he drifted off.
A few hours later he woke to a human vine, stretching across his chest, clinging to his side and twined around his leg. He brushed the tickling curls away from his nose and dozed off again.
Close to dawn, he awoke to find his cock happily wedged against his bed partner's ass, his hand full of a warm, velvety breast, and more curls in his face.
Stephanie Plum drove him crazy, even in sleep.
He went running after that.
…
Stephanie blinked her eyes open to a sliver of crisp winter sunlight peeking through the blinds. She smiled at the now familiar sound of Ella squeegeeing the glass shower door in Ranger's en suite bath. The woman actually had one of those windshield cleaning wand thingies you find at gas stations.
Ella was pure, unadulterated awesomeness.
Ranger's housekeeper was nurturing and warm, and she never scowled or nagged at Stephanie, like that Ellen or Helen or whatever her name was.
Realizing her surprisingly reluctant bedmate was no longer beside her, Steph stood up, stretched, and wandered into the bathroom to brush her teeth.
"Morning, Ella," she yawned.
The trim, bustling woman grinned knowingly at Stephanie. "Your Ranger is back, yes?"
And this is why she'd been confused when Ranger had introduced himself as Carlos. She knew his name to be Ricardo; she'd read it enough times on all her records. But everyone referred to him as Ranger, including her, even if it was mostly in her head.
Ella looked at her expectantly and Stephanie felt a flood of heat rush to her face, remembering that perhaps she had assumed too much when it had come to Ranger. She wasn't so certain now that this Ranger person was her Ranger. But Jesus, God, she'd like him to be. And not just because of his looks or his body, which, she conceded, were about as good as looks and a body could get. The color of his skin reminded her of smooth, liquid butterscotch, and if she'd had a spoon in her hand last night, he'd be missing more than a couple of scoops. As it was, she'd had an intense urge to lick him. Everywhere.
No, there was something more. She couldn't put her finger on it. Perhaps it was a unique combination of things; nothing concrete she could put a name to. Though he was a stranger to her, it was plain to see the affection in his eyes when he looked at her, underscored by a hint of sadness. Beneath the big, beautiful warrior exterior, lurked a worried man, a regular guy. And he was being careful with her, she could tell.
He was a good guy wrapped up in badass, and for some inexplicable reason, he'd instantly made her feel safe.
Stephanie Plum had very good taste.
Giving full concentration to applying toothpaste to bristles, Steph stalled and made quasi-affirmative noises while she shoved the toothbrush in her mouth.
Not a minute later, Ella packed up her cleaning supplies and turned to Stephanie with her arms full of neatly folded bath towels. She made to hand them off to Stephanie.
Steph had to spit and rinse quickly to make her hands free; apparently she was blocking the linen closet.
Passing the fluffy stack to Steph, Ella told her, "Now that he's home, I'll go back to being invisible."
"Wait. What?"
She liked having Ella around. She wasn't intrusive. Or rather, she was just intrusive enough to make Steph feel welcome, cared for, and less lonely. She'd also kept Stephanie very well fed.
And Ella was happy to talk, to a degree. Of course, the same could be said for almost every person Stephanie Plum had contact with. Perhaps it was the nature of the beast that is amnesia, but Steph almost always felt like most people tended to hold back something. Like they were feeding her cleaned up version of events, so as not to send her into hysterics. Then again, perhaps they were wise; Stephanie Plum had been involved in some pretty freaky stuff.
With great frustration, Steph had realized early on in her recovery that the other Stephanie Plum kept all of her Ranger secrets very close to the vest, and that this sexy Ranger guy apparently did too. Stephanie and Ranger were in cahoots, she thought, though she had no idea where that word came from.
The only definitive answers she could get from anyone were that: Ranger Manoso and Stephanie Plum both existed; Ranger and Stephanie were both bounty hunters; and Ranger and Stephanie had something going on—for a while—and no one really knew what it was.
Nobody dared ask. The whole thing was both titillating and ominous.
She also learned that Ella was no gossip, especially regarding Ranger. At least once a day, when Steph pried too deeply about anyone, Ella would simply say, "I am no gossip," in lightly accented English.
It drove Steph nuts. Additionally, according to Mary Lou, the missing gossip gene indicated that Ella was not from the 'Burg.
Ella smiled as she backed her cart through the bathroom doorway. Steph followed, still clutching the towels. "I don't want you invisible! I like our chats." I need them, she wanted to add. Ella may not gossip, but she was a font of knowledge about the history and people in both the 'Burg and surrounding areas, and she'd known many of the men working for Rangeman for years.
The older woman pushed her cart to the foyer. "Estephanie, this has always been the protocol when you're here." Ella's no-nonsense expression softened. "If you need anything, you know what extension to dial. And Luis and I are on the 6th floor, apartment A, if you want to visit, si?"
"Si. But…but … what protocol?"
Ella looked a little nonplussed by Stephanie's reaction to her leaving. She answered kindly, "When you are in residence in his apartment, I am never to enter unbidden; I am on-call only."
Stephanie didn't know what to do with this new information. Ranger had different rules for Ella regarding whether or not Steph was in his apartment? What terrifyingly illicit things might Ella catch them at if she entered unbidden. Just the thought made her nipples hard.
But he'd said they were only lovers of sorts. And that they didn't have sex as often as he liked. And that she and that Joe guy got back together a lot.
Mental sigh.
Unhindered by memories or emotional ties to the man, Stephanie asked, "What about when other women are in residence in Ranger's apartment?"
Her hand on the door, Ella gave her a long, loaded look. "You are special, Estephanie. No other woman has been up here." Then Ella bustled into the hall toward the shockingly open elevator doors, revealing a glistening, freshly exercised, and eavesdropping Ranger.
…
Ranger raised a sardonic brow at his aunt. Ella muscled past him into the elevator, along with her cart, and blew a nearly silent, but still unfeminine raspberry at his back.
It was hard to command proper employer/employee respect from a woman who'd changed your diapers.
After a—hopefully invisible to Stephanie—gentle prod in the lower back from the wand of Ella's squeegee, he stepped out of the elevator and into the hall. The elevator doors wooshed shut, leaving Ranger and Stephanie alone.
At some point, Steph had pulled her eyes from his torso and was now staring at the closed elevator doors forlornly.
As if remembering herself, Steph moved aside, giving Ranger room to enter the foyer. Stepping out of his running shoes, Ranger tugged a clean towel off the inexplicable stack Stephanie held in her arms. "Walk with me."
During his 5 am run, he'd tried to come up with a plan. On his 9 am run, he realized that until he talked with her doctor, and knew what Stephanie was up against, there would be no plan. He'd wing it. Also, he wouldn't worry, because worry was for pussies.
The second thing he realized was Tank was right. Life was too short. His reasons for holding back with Steph were now non-existent. Or at least they were right before he left.
Now was the time. He wanted Steph in his life.
Hopefully the old Steph. After considering what could have happened, and how much time the two of them had wasted, he'd take Old Steph, New Steph, Premenstrual Steph, or any other version she could throw at him.
In his arrogance, he'd always assumed they'd had an understanding. Someday. On his terms.
And people thought God didn't have a sense of humor.
Now he may have lost the Steph he'd fallen in love with. He never really knew for sure if the old Stephanie Plum felt the same. He'd thought she did, not that she'd ever said as much. Maybe he could make this new Stephanie fall in love with him. And maybe, if they were lucky, she'd get her memory back.
And probably kick him to the curb for taking advantage, he thought morosely.
Fuck. He needed another run.
Steph followed in his wake right up until they reached the bathroom door. Once there, she stood rooted just outside, her weird stack of towels constricted to her pajama-clad form in a twisted heap.
Holding her watchful gaze, he peeled off his socks. Slowly, so he could be sure she was very aware what was happening, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his running pants, and pushed them towards the floor.
"Ranger!" Stephanie scolded.
It was only fair, he mused. They had a history of early nude encounters in their relationship. Clearly it was his turn.
Adjusting the knobs in the shower, Ranger glanced over his shoulder. The scandalized schoolmarm was checking out his ass.
He'd have done the same. Oh, who was he kidding. He did do the same. Only less obviously than she did.
"Nothing you haven't seen before," he told her as he stepped under the scalding spray.
Even with his eyes closed, he knew she hadn't left. Couldn't leave. Curious. Indignant. The two main ingredients of Stephanie.
A sudden shift in the air told him she'd not only entered the bathroom proper, but had opened the shower door. Finished dousing his hair, he wiped water from his face and skimmed back his hair.
She took him in, with zero shame, and no small amount of hunger.
"Seems like this should trigger a memory…" she said, her tone somewhat academic.
"It's definitely triggering something."
Her eyes darted down. "Holy cow!" She slammed the shower door shut with a bang and plopped down on the closed toilet lid.
After a minute she said, "Stephanie's a very lucky girl." Both embarrassment and laughter were evident in her voice.
Ranger smiled as he started working his shower gel into a lather. "I thought you were Stephanie."
"I wish," she lamented. "I'm Un-Stephanie. I'm a woman with a movie-plot life, an otherworldly beautiful man trophy of a boyfriend, and no memory of how I got any of it."
Ranger didn't know what to say. "Man trophy?"
"It was a compliment. Hey, so does it get any bigger than that, cause I gotta say-"
"Does what get any bigger." He knew exactly what she was talking about. So did his dick. Both thought it best to keep their own council.
"So I'm really the only woman you've had up here?"
Ah, there it was. He'd been waiting. "Other than Ella, yes."
"Ever?"
"Babe."
"You know it's really frustrating when you do that."
Ranger wiped the shampoo from his eyes. "What, Babe."
"When you don't really want to dwell on a question of mine, you just say 'Babe', leaving me to draw my own conclusions. Like you just want to move on. I bet it drove me nuts. And anyway, how's not answering me now supposed to help me?"
He felt almost guilty talking to this Stephanie. She didn't hold back much, if anything. He wasn't really sure the Stephanie he knew would like her thoughts about him broadcast to him. He hedged, "Never seemed to bother you before."
"How do you know? Maybe I just never told you it bothered me. You already said I didn't talk about my feelings."
Huh. She had him there.
"Never. I've never brought another woman up here. Only you. You have a key fob. You've had it for some time, with the understanding that you can always use it whenever you'd like. Most of my cars are at your disposal as well."
She was quiet while she digested this. Which was brave of her, because he tried very hard not to dwell on all the personal rules he'd broken for her, all the actions he'd made that fairly screamed a commitment he'd always implied he couldn't offer. Both he and Stephanie made a good show of pretending they didn't know exactly how fucked up their relationship really was, all the while also pretending said relationship didn't exist.
"So how long did we know each other before I saw that lethal weapon you got there?" she asked.
He'd have been flattered by the description, but considering Stephanie's tone, she didn't sound like she was looking forward to renewing her membership to the Ruin Yourself With Ranger club. Her inflection hinted that she thought a part A and slot B connection were highly improbable.
He sighed. "A while."
"Define a while."
"Seven … no, eight months."
"Hmph."
She was unimpressed. "Imagine if you had to wait seven or eight months for a Boston crème donut," he told her. Surely her love of Boston crèmes transcended amnesia.
"That's ridiculous. No sane person would wait nearly a year for a pastry."
"Never claimed to be sane, Babe. Why the question?"
"Because you're suddenly naked now, less than 24 hours after I met you. And it made me think-"
"It made you think?" he teased.
"Would you stop it? You have a strange sense of humor."
"You used to call it Ranger humor."
"I told you that?"
"You mutter under your breath a lot."
"So we didn't see each other naked for eight months," she continued.
"I saw you naked less than a week after meeting you."
"You slut!"
"Babe."
"Oh, not you. I was talking to me."
Ranger shut off the shower, snagged the towel hanging from the glass door and wrapped it around his hips.
Stepping out, he said, "You're not a slut. Not even close. I'd just met you a few days before. Connie probably told you about it." At Stephanie's nod, he went on. "You were trying to bring in Joe. He was FTA. Morelli was pissed that you not only commandeered his truck, but also hid his distributor cap. He busted into your apartment while you were in the shower, handcuffed you to the rod and tossed your apartment."
"And your role in this was…"
Ranger wondered for the first time if he should actually be feeding her these memories. Wasn't she supposed to wait for them to come back on their own?
Steph rotated her hand impatiently, "Just tell me. All those amnesia movies and stories are a load of crap. The best thing you can do is share my memories with me. Tell me stories, show me pictures, play me music, take me to familiar places. Anything might be a trigger."
The shared a spontaneous smile as they both remembered the last thing she triggered.
"Morelli left you like that, naked and chained up" he continued, "but he gave you the phone so you could dial for help."
"What a pig!" Steph's eyes narrowed to slits. "Who was I supposed to call that wouldn't embarrass me? I supposedly went to grade school with half the 'Burg, and I'm related to the other half! Why the hell would I waste the last three years of my life on this asshat?"
He'd asked himself that very same question. Then again, Ranger had never made good on his threat to ruin her for all other men, or to make her forget about Morelli. He didn't want to hear what creative names she'd thought up for him back before the amnesia.
Stephanie turned to watch as he applied shaving cream to his face and neck. "So I called you because I barely knew you? Because I knew you could break into my apartment easily?" she asked.
Ranger shrugged. "Don't know why. But Babe, your grandmother could break into your apartment. No special skills needed."
He could see she was surprised to hear he was familiar with her family. It was clear she was having a hard time figuring out how to frame their relationship. She was in good company.
"I must have felt some level of trust in you," she decided. She said it like it was case closed, done deal, no longer up for discussion.
Ranger dipped his razor in the milky water, then tapped it on the sink's edge. "How do you figure that?"
"I feel like I trust you now. I slept really well last night for the first time since … and it wasn't until after you came to bed. And you're a stranger to me." She shrugged. "I can't explain it. I've had this knot in my stomach since I woke up in her body and it's still there, but it's looser, kind of a more distant feeling."
She was scared. As much as she thought of Stephanie Plum as some other person, the woman he loved was shining through with her bravado, her inquisitive nature, her enthusiasm for making the best of a shitty situation.
Steph folded her arms on the counter, rested her chin on top and looked up at him shaving, batting her eyelashes. "Did you look?"
"What?"
"When you came to uncuff me from the shower rod. Did you look?"
"I'm a man."
"But you're a man who waited eight months for a pastry."
Touché.
"Let me guess," she said. "You looked, but in such a way I didn't notice you looked."
Ranger twisted his mouth into a shaving contortion to hide his smile. Her female logic was alarmingly intact.
They were quiet then, him shaving, her watching, and he thought for a moment how much he liked having her here. How he wished things were different. How he wanted to kick his own ass that they weren't this open and honest with each other from the beginning.
He knew he shouldn't fault either of them. He was three years younger then and cockier than a sailor on his first leave. And while still morally right, at least twenty-five percent of his business dealings at the time were further left of strictly legal than he'd like to admit. He'd also still been under government contract.
Stephanie had been somewhat recently divorced, from The Dick, no less, and was understandably jaded and mistrustful.
Neither had been looking for anything serious, and even if they had been, neither had any serious to give. They'd thought they were playing a game.
Rinsing his face, Ranger told her, "You need to get ready." He patted dry and turned to her, resting a lean hip against the counter. "I'd like to talk to your doctor today, with your permission. And then we're going to play Henry Higgins and Eliza Doolittle do Trenton."
Stephanie's eyebrows shot up. "Is that a kinky sex game?"
He wished. "I'd like to walk with you through some of our old haunts."
"I've tried that with Lula, Connie, Mary Lou, Carl, Eddie, Joe, Val, my mom ... oh, and Tank too."
"I'd like you to try with me." He refused to ask about Joe.
She bit at her lip. "I don't want you to have your feelings hurt if it doesn't work. They were all really nice about it, but people seem to take it really personally when you can't remember them."
He knew the feeling. When Tank first told him, he'd felt absurdly disappointed to hear her amnesia extended to forgetting him. As if he thought their connection would transcend her head injury and medical probability.
"If it doesn't work, the worst that will happen is we'll spend the day together."
Her brow puckered. "Don't you have to work?"
"This is more important."
Steph looked back and forth between Ranger and the shower, or more specifically, between Ranger's abs and the shower. "You're not going to stay and watch me take a shower, are you?"
His lips twitched into an almost smile. "Not today."
