The primary characters in the story are not mine, they belong to author Janet Evanovich. There are some secondary characters in this story that do belong to me.

I do not have a beta and all errors will be mine alone.

Chapter 3

Back in Black

Ranger pulled into a weapons surplus type store and shooting range, hopped out of his truck, and headed inside without a backward glance. I sat there a minute, guessing I was just supposed to follow his haughty butt inside the place. Slamming the heavy truck door, the thought of my dumb luck struck me again and I had to laugh.

For my reluctant gun choice I decided on a Smith & Wesson .38 special Lady Smith. It was small and lightweight and made for a woman's hands with fixed sights. I also purchased a small stun gun, some pepper spray, and a pair of handcuffs. Ranger recommended a lightweight utility belt as well but when he held it up I grimaced and had to asked, "Does it come in other colors?"

He blinked and sighed. "What's wrong with black, babe?"

Unlike the first time I saw the man when he'd been mostly in camo attire, he was now dressed in all black. He was still wearing the same style clothing, cargo pants and a tight t-shirt. The shirt now had a logo on it though, Rangeman. I looked him up and down and then down again when I thought I saw…er…movement. "Not a thing."

He stuck a long finger out and tapped my chin, making me look up at him. "Tell me where you live and I'll pick you up tonight." I pondered giving that information for a couple of minutes while he smirked as if he could read my mind. Sighing, I finally just gave it to him and he turned his perfect ass to me again without a word and swaggered out the door and to his Escalade. Probably knew I was staring at it too.

Connie was right. Just watching him walk could flip your doodah switch to tingle. You could say his best feature and personality were the same.

When I got home, I laid out all my purchases and looked at them, grimacing. Guns made me uncomfortable. I glanced at my empty cookie jar. After these purchases, I was now too poor to afford groceries anyway. Picking up the Lady Smith with two fingers, I lifted the lid and chucked it inside, then dropped the bullets in. Next, I plugged in the stun gun charger and placed the unit in to begin charging and the rest I dropped into my shoulder bag.

A business card fell out of a small side pocket and I picked it up and looked at it. It was that escort guy, Brace's card from the day at the bar in Newark. Funny, I should come across this the same day that I run into that narcissist, Ranger again. I had wondered about his trouble that day and had thought about him a couple of times. He had been a nice guy, regardless of his occupation. I hadn't felt the ick I tended to around Ranger, even when Brace had complimented me and talked openly about the sex stuff.

Out of curiosity, I dialed his number. "Embrace Yourself Services"

"Really? That's catchy but I thought the whole point was ditching the shower massager and doing it solo. Is this Brace, himself?"

A deep laugh rumbled through the phone. "In the flesh, baby. Who is the witty woman I have the pleasure of speaking with today?"

"Stephanie Plum. We met at a bar in Newark a while back. You had to leave a little too abruptly though."

He laughed again. "Wasn't my best day or moment. Did I leave enough for you to drown your sorrows?"

"Yes. But I didn't get the chance because a rude Hispanic guy named Ranger, killed my buzz."

"I remember him. If I could recruit both those guys that took me, I would be a multi-millionaire within a year."

I snorted. "According to him, he's the end-all be-all gift to women."

"Ha! Those types are usually mostly muscle in the jaws and not so much in the pants."

I said, "I don't know about that and have no desire to know. Do you mind me asking? Did you get whatever your problem was settled with the courts?"

"Yeah. A woman in my employ was murdered. I had suspected she was on drugs and maybe on the fringe. I'd asked her about it and given her the benefit with a warning and even hinted that I would help her. A few weeks later, she was found dead. Cops tried to link it to me because of the business. I missed the court date because I was delayed by a very high profile client meeting. The court date was rescheduled but then the case was dismissed before I had to go because of lack of evidence of any kind."

"Wow. Sorry about your employee." I asked, "Any information since then on what happened?"

"No. She was a good kid when she joined me, going to college, and had ambition. Something happened during the time she was working for me. I just don't know what for sure, except that I think drugs were introduced to her somewhere along the line."

"That's too bad. Sounds like you care about your um...people."

"I do. Many are my friends too. They know they can come to me about anything. You working again now, sweetheart?"

I snickered. "Brace, this is kind of funny. I was reminded of you today and then I found your card. I took a job as a bounty hunter and was given a number to call a guy for some training. Take a guess who it was?"

"Please don't keep me in suspense and tell me," his tone was teasing.

"Ranger. That ultimate Hispanic ass that apprehended you."

"I'll say. We could both benefit from that ass if he works it harder than his smart mouth. What a coincidence."

I felt myself blushing.

"I don't know if I can work with him. He thinks I worked for you and he keeps insulting me still."

"I'm sorry if he's offending you. There's no reason for that. I want to ask about this new job and chat. You want to get together and have dinner?"

"Um...sure. When are you free?"

"You free tomorrow night? I'm dropping off a girl near Trenton. We could meet after, for dinner."

"Okay. You want to just call me and we'll pick a place," I said.

"Yeah. I can reach you at this number you called from?"

"Yep. It's my cell."

He said, "Sounds good. Nice hearing from you and I'll talk to you tomorrow, Stephanie."

We disconnected. Gigolo or not, the guy was pleasant and knows how to talk to a lady. And I could sure use a few new friends right now.

At eight o'clock that evening, I was sitting in my living room waiting for Ranger to ring the doorbell. Instead of a doorbell, my head turned to the door in fright when I heard the lock tumble. Somebody was trying to break in!

Running to the kitchen, I grabbed the gun out of the cookie jar and tip-toed back to the foyer just as the chain dropped. Holding the thing out in front of me with shaking hands, I tried to swallow and take a breath but my mouth was like a desert. When the door slowly began to open, I yelled, "Stop, or I'll shoot!"

Ranger came into view wearing jeans and another black shirt, along with a smirk. I blew my terrified stack and began cursing the ass. I said things that I can't remember ever flinging at Dickie while in a rage. "What the hell is wrong with you?! Who do you think you are just breaking into my apartment like that? I knew I shouldn't have told you where I live. I can't trust you!"

He just snorted. "Babe."

"Is that all you can say? Are you sane?" He reached out and snatched my gun and released the chamber to check for bullets.

"You can throw the gun at an intruder, but it won't have the impact that putting bullets in it and pulling the trigger will."

I grumbled, "You're an insulting smartass and a burglar!"

"Colorful language won't deter an attacker either, babe. Have you had any training with guns?"

I rolled my eyes at him. "Not really. No. I don't particularly like them."

He handed the gun back and said, "Then we'll spend some time tomorrow at a range."

"Can we do it in the morning because then I have to spend some time looking for Morelli?"

"Yeah. Let's go." He turned his ass to me and walked out the door. I crossed my eyes and shook my head. Gah!

We were sitting in a Ford Explorer staring out into the dark at an apartment building. Ranger had showed me the file on the fugitive he was looking for and told me that based on information gathered by talking to the guy's friends and relatives that his girlfriend lived here.

I asked, "Where is your Escalade?"

"Draws too much attention on a stakeout."

"How long have you been doing this work?

"About two years."

"How did you get started?"

He turned and looked at me like I was being annoying. "Got out of the army, was looking for a job where I could use my skills."

I crossed my arms, settling in for his story. "What specific skills? Shooting at people and blowing stuff up? Raining boredom and insults down on the enemy until they throw their weapons down, and hands up ready to surrender?" I snickered after adding that last part.

He barely acknowledged my slight and merely glanced at me. "You ask a lot of questions, babe. In the military I was trained to find people and eradicate problems. I'm good at it."

I thought about that. "Hmm. That sounds like more than just army training."

"Special forces, Rangers."

"Ah... Now I get the name. Kind of arrogant wasn't it, to take that name? Like you're the ultimate Ranger." Just like his ass.

"It's a moniker, a nickname that I now use as a street name and I didn't give it to myself." He turned to me. "I was given the name."

I had to ask, "By whom?"

He turned a bored look on me. "My men. Rangers."

"Oh. So that was like an honor then?" He gave a nod without looking at me. "What's your real name?"

"Manoso. Ricardo Carlos Manoso." Still looking out the window, he said, "If you want to ask me any more questions, you'll have to ask them in bed and throw in some of that dirty talk you used earlier." He then turned showing his teeth as he gave me what looked like a wicked wolf grin.

I was no longer surprised at anything that came out of his mouth. "Why have you been so rude to me from the very beginning? You really are a colossal ass Ricardo!"

"Ric or Ranger. Take your pick and stick with one."

I mumbled, "I like ass better."

The corners of his mouth twitched, but he still didn't look at me. "I'm sure you do, blue eyes. I'm sure you do…"

Ooooh...the man! I glared at him. He might just be the first one sorry that I put bullets in my new gun.

We sat for four hours until my eyeballs were swimming from having to pee and Ranger's patience with me fidgeting and asking questions was at an end. Giant sodas and surveillance didn't mix. He drove me home and dropped me off and told me to be ready at "Oh-eight-hundred" in the morning. As in eight o' clock AM? He also told me to wear exercise type clothing. Why exercise clothing? Spandex and tight clothing turns him on or something? I got an idea and grinned.