Chapter Two

"Ranger, let Lester handle the McDermott situation. He can calm that old dragon lady just as well as you, maybe even better," Bobby said as he applied the last bandage to Ranger's leg wound.

"The McDermott account is one of our biggest. Until McDermott's death, it had been one of our simplest," Ranger said, as he leaned over and rolled down his pant leg. "Now with Mrs. McDermott at the helm, we've had nothing but complaints from them. We've got to get this under control."

"You know how effective Santos can be when he turns on the charm, especially if a woman is involved," Bobby said, grinning.

"Clients need to be satisfied, not charmed," Ranger grumbled as he hopped down off the exam table. Wincing a little, he shifted his weight to his right leg. "And besides, Mrs. McDermott is over eighty. Do you really think Santos' supposed charm will work…?" Ranger shook his head. Much to his amazement – and sometimes disgust – Santos seemed to be able to get any female to eat out of his hand. And if Santos was as good as he bragged, he might awaken more than even he could handle in that old sourpuss. Ranger gave a slight snort at the grotesque image.

Bobby studied his boss and friend as he put the gauze and tape back in his medic bag. Ranger's gunshot wounds were healing as expected, but it had been weeks since he'd returned from that FUBAR mission, and Bobby was worried that Ranger was still unduly favoring his injured leg.

"I want you to take it easy for a while; give your leg a chance to heal properly," Bobby said. "None of us heal as fast as we used to."

At that last statement, Ranger closed his eyes and let out a long slow breath. Bobby was confirming the thought that had dominated Ranger's mind since his last mission. The truth was he was in a young man's profession, and he was no longer a young man. Thirty-eight was pushing it for black ops work. He had some thinking to do.

Hal stuck his head in the room and directed his comments to Ranger. "The police scanner's squawking about an explosion on Chestnut just south of Hamilton. Something about a hot dog stand and a propane tank. And… Ms. Plum."

Both men's heads jerked up. Bobby commented, "Chestnut and Hamilton? That's Chance Park. There's a little league playoff game there today which means lots of food vendors. Sounds like Steph's stomach got the better of her again."

Hal and Bobby chuckled, but Ranger tensed and grabbed his jacket off the back of a chair. "Tell Santos to handle the McDermott situation." Then he left the room and headed for the stairs, trying hard not to favor his injured leg. At the last minute, he punched the button for the elevator instead of taking the stairs. Bobby's advice had hit its mark.

It wasn't hard to spot the location. A billowing black cloud was visible above the trees. Ranger parked the Porsche on a side street and strode rapidly toward the park. Anyone looking at him wouldn't see the worry on his face, but it was there… and it had a tight grasp on his heart. As he approached the park, he had to maneuver through the crowd of gawkers and little leaguers with their parents. Chestnut Avenue itself was filled with several police cars, two fire trucks and an ambulance.

Pushing through the throng, Ranger made his way over to the ambulance. He finally relaxed when he saw her standing next to it, as opposed to lying in it. He was always relieved when he saw her after one of these incidents, but this time there was an added sense of gratitude.

Ever since he got back from his last mission, she had been on his mind more than usual. Something had changed, and he had changed with it. He'd always been physically attracted to her, but now it was different. The need had morphed into more than just sexual need. He needed to see her, to know she was safe...and happy. Thoughts of her were the only thing that allowed him to relax, to sleep at night, to get him into his zone.

He walked toward her, noticing that her face was smudged with soot and the ends of her hair looked frizzed, but she wasn't wearing any bandages – always a good sign. Joe Morelli was standing in front of her, his posture rigid, his hands clenched. Neither of them looked very happy.

As Ranger got closer, he heard Steph protest, "I had nothing to do with it."

He smiled to himself. It was typical Steph. His forward momentum was impeded as a bunch of kids ran in front of him. He stopped to let the noisy children pass, unable to hear Morelli's response.

Steph was getting animated the more she talked. "Really, Joe! Lula and I just stopped by to get a chili dog and… BOOM!" Her hands came up and spread apart over her head.

"It's the boom that gets me, Cupcake. Things always seem to go boom around you." Joe's hands mimicked Steph's as he said boom and then they settled on his hips. With his legs spread wide and his shoulders hunched forward, he looked ready to do battle.

Steph rubbed the back of her neck and took a step backward. "It wasn't my fault," she muttered.

Joe shook his head. "It's never your fault." He ran both hands through his unkempt hair. "I can't keep doing this. Every time a call comes in, my nerves start twitching. And then I hear your name and my stomach rolls over. I drink so much Maalox® I should buy stock in the company." Joe looked down at the ground before he reached out a hand and touched her cheek.

In a softer voice, he said, "I'm begging you, Steph. Quit this. Get a new job, a normal job. One where you go into an office everyday and sit at a desk. One where psychos don't want to blow you up. One where I won't worry myself into an early grave."

Steph's foot had been tapping furiously the entire time Morelli was talking. When he finished, she lashed out, "That's always the answer for you, isn't it? For me to quit my job. Your work is just as dangerous as mine, and you don't hear me demanding that you quit your job."

The EMT that had checked Steph over was eavesdropping while pretending to put his gear away. Joe grabbed Steph's arm and tried to steer her toward his vehicle, not wanting to have this conversation in public. "Let's talk about this later at home."

Steph jerked her arm out of his grasp and yelled, "There won't be any later and there won't be any at home."

"Steph…"

"No, Joe. No more talking. We're done talking. I'll pick up my stuff tomorrow."

They glared at each other for a moment before Joe huffed loudly, turned and stalked back to his vehicle. Ranger resumed walking toward an obviously upset Stephanie.

She stared after Joe for a minute before turning the other way and walking down the sidewalk. Suddenly, she stopped and threw her hands up in the air, muttering to herself.

Ranger was right behind her when she turned around and smacked into him. He caught her arms before she could step back.

"Where'd you come from?" she exclaimed, looking up at him.

"Babe."

She looked past his head to the dissipating black cloud in the sky. "What… was there a Batman signal in the smoke?"

That elicited a hint of a grin from him. "I was worried," Ranger said as he moved her off the sidewalk and toward a small copse of trees. He reached into one of his cargo pants' pockets and pulled out a white handkerchief.

"I'm OK," she shrugged, but refused to make eye contact again. "I had nothing to do with it. I just was ordering a chili dog, and Lula was rummaging in her handbag for some money…"

"And?" He gently wiped the cloth across her sooty cheeks.

Steph fidgeted and blew out a big puff of air. "And one of the hot dog stands' propane tanks exploded."

"And?" He finished cleaning her forehead and chin, and repocketed the handkerchief.

Another sigh. "And then the other tank exploded."

"Babe…"

She finally looked at him. "I suppose, maybe… the gun in Lula's bag went off…accidentally."

The grin bloomed into a smile. One arm snaked around her shoulders, and he pulled her into his chest. "Where's Lula now?" he asked.

Before she dropped her forehead onto his chest, she answered, "She must have taken off. Cops make her nervous."

"Was she your ride?"

Steph's head thunked repeatedly against his muscular chest as she nodded. "I'm waiting for a check from the insurance company. For my last car-the one some pervert drove into the Delaware," she clarified, in case Ranger wasn't keeping up with her latest transportation woes.

Ranger dipped his head into her frizzed curls. "You smell like burnt hot dogs." There was a slight hiccupy sound for a reply. "I'll take you home," he offered.

"I don't have a home," was her muffled reply.

Ranger leaned back and lifted Steph's chin so she would meet his gaze. After a few moments of silence, she explained, "My apartment's being recarpeted. Mrs. Jarvis – she has the apartment above me – fell asleep while waiting for her bathtub to fill and the water ran all night. When I got out of bed in the morning, I thought I stepped into the Everglades. And my nieces are staying at my parents while Valerie and Albert are out of town. So I moved in with Joe, but…" She glanced back toward the departing police car and sighed.

"You can stay at RangeMan." With his hands gripping her upper arms, Ranger pulled her up until she was standing on her tiptoes. His eyes began to darken the longer he gazed into her baby blues. Their lips were almost touching as he said, "It's been a while since we've shared a bed."

Steph's eyes got big and her breathing increased noticeably as she realized what he was implying. Before she could protest or move away, his lips covered hers in a full on kiss. It wasn't one of those quick kisses either. As the kiss continued, Steph's hands latched onto the lapels of his jacket and she let her entire body collapse against his. A low moan sounded deep within her throat.

When he finally pulled back, he saw her eyes were still closed, her mouth slightly open. He leaned in to kiss her again. With a start, her eyes flew open and she pushed against his chest. He didn't budge, and he held on to her arms.

A pink blush crept up her neck and into her cheeks as she said, "I don't think that's a good idea, Ranger. I'll call Mary Lou and see if I can crash on her sofa again."

"I have a sofa, too. And no gum-chewing kids or flatulent dog." He grinned, remembering Steph's gum-in-the-hair ordeal from her last sleep over at her best friend's house. He tempted her, "I'll let you use my shower gel." A slow grin crept across Steph's face, and Ranger released his grip on her.

"Okay, RangeMan it is, but I'm sleeping on your sofa… after I take a shower with your heavenly smelling gel."

Stephanie came out of the bedroom just as Ranger dished up the dinner his housekeeper, Ella, had brought up. Ranger wondered how Ella did it; she could add servings and special ingredients to a meal with only a few minutes' notice. He never ate dessert, but tonight Ella had included a chocolate cream pie. Stephanie would love it.

As she brushed past him, he sniffed her hair appreciatively, but grimaced inwardly at her hair's heavily singed ends. "You don't smell like smoke anymore," he said. Almost as if to himself, he muttered, "That explosion really did a number on your beautiful hair."

Steph wasn't used to compliments and blushed as she sat down at the table. "I sure hope Mr. Alexander doesn't have to take too much off to get rid of the charred ends. He had to cut it shorter than I like last month when Mary Lou's kids put all that gum in it."

She opened her napkin and dropped it on her lap. Taking a deep sniff of the food in front of her, Steph said, "God bless Ella."

"That'll suffice as grace," Ranger said as he forked a piece of roast chicken into his mouth.

Dinner was eaten in relative quiet, Stephanie asking an occasional question and Ranger replying with a minimal amount of words. They shared the clean up routine and then it was time for bed.

Steph meandered into Ranger's bedroom and disappeared into his dressing room where the bed linens were kept. Grabbing one of the sinfully decadent high thread count sheets and a down pillow that his linen closet was always stocked with, Steph came back out into the living room.

Ranger was sitting in his armchair, watching her as she made up her bed on the sofa. Steph bent over the cushions to tuck in the sheet, and her well-formed derriere was clearly outlined against the pair of boxers she'd borrowed from him. Responding to a primal urge, he stood and reached her in one quick stride. Without a word, he pulled her against him, back to front, and splayed his large hands across her belly.

Nuzzling her neck, he stated with authority, "My bed is much more comfortable than the couch. And I assure you will enjoy sleeping with me better than by yourself. Join me, Babe."

It wasn't a command nor was it an entreaty. It was an offer and a hard one to turn down. Steph's eyes closed and she melted into his chest wanting nothing more than to give in to temptation. Then she felt his hard length pressed against her butt, and her eyes snapped open.

Steph disentangled herself from his arms and quipped, "If you and I shared a bed, there'd be very little sleeping and I… uh…need my sleep. I have a busy day tomorrow. Besides, I don't think Joe would buy my defense."

"Defense?"

"My addiction to your high thread count sheets." She fluffed up the pillow and held it against her like a shield.

Laughing in response, he asked, "Is that the only thing in my bed that you're addicted to?"

She didn't smile, but stared back for a minute before mumbling her less than playful response, "As you so clearly have told me before, the only other thing comes with a condom, not a ring." She turned around to finish making up her bed on the couch.

The playful mood dissipated, Ranger gazed long and hard at her back. Had he really said such a stupid thing to her? Yeah, he had. He'd been a fool. In an instant, he made a decision. No more gropes in alleyways, no more stolen kisses, no more one-night affairs. Tomorrow, he would try something new.