Wednesday morning, the day of the redecorating job…

"What made you decide that you wanted a relationship with me?" We're in the Cayenne, on our way from the beach house to the redecorating job. It's early. I didn't think her brain was functional enough at this hour to ask questions like that.

"You." She rolls her eyes, as usual. She sighs. Her arms cross over her chest. The foot starts tapping. Apparently, she'd like more detail. We've been over this before, at least partially. I've never really given her the whole story. "You're one of a kind, Babe." It's absolutely true.

"Ranger. Tell. Me." I know that voice. Since I'd like to live to see my first anniversary, I'm going to give in this time. Maybe.

"Liked your spirit. Liked your guts. Liked your inability to give in or give up; your tenacity. Liked the way you could make me smile."

"And?"

I sigh. "You cared about me. You treated me like a human being. You trusted me. You accepted me, as is. You offered me your friendship. You made me feel as though I had value. You helped me. You have a beautiful heart. You're not afraid to fly."

She giggles. "Flying gets me broken bones."

"Not when you're with me, Babe."

Another giggle accompanied by a blush. "Good point. What made you look at me twice?"

That's a new one. "You showed up in that diner, and you were scared as Hell. I could see the excitement and the anticipation under the fear, though. You were looking forward to the job." Close enough. No need to tell her how much her excitement had turned me on that day – or that I could see desperation and abject terror underneath it.

"I wasn't scared – I was terrified!"

"Happens to everyone."

"Ha! You're never terrified!"

"Sometimes."

"Name one time!" she demands.

"I'll name two from the past month. First, the day you got hung up on the wall when the fire escape fell. Then, you got that fever from the infection. Two days ago, when I asked you to marry me, I was beyond terrified that you'd turn me down and walk away!" Oops. She's rubbing off on me – I hadn't meant to tell her that last bit.

She gasps. "You thought I'd leave you – and that terrified you?" Shit. Of course she latches on to the one thing I didn't intend to say aloud.

"You mean a lot to me, Stephanie." More than she knows, apparently. I'll have to work on that.

"Sometimes, I can't believe you really changed your whole life to accommodate a relationship with me."

"I didn't change my life."

She shakes her head. "You could have any woman you want…" Her voice trails off.

"I have the only woman I want." I reach over and take her hand. I decide to turn the tables on her. "Why did you come to me last year?"

"What?"

"You always ask me why I changed my mind. You came to me without knowing that I had."

"Morelli sent me to you." That's only part of the truth and I know it. And, she knows that I know.

"Babe."

She leans her head on the window and watches the passing scenery. "I… " She seems to be searching for words. Either that or she's not going to tell me. "I decided that I was going to take whatever you were willing to give me."

I look at her sharply. I hadn't expected this. "Explain." I keep my voice soft.

She takes a deep breath. "I knew I loved you. I couldn't go to you because I always felt guilty, like I was cheating on Joe. I knew that Joe and I weren't going anywhere, but I couldn't seem to walk away. When he sent me to you, the guilt lifted."

That explains a lot, but not everything. She's always been a relationship kind of woman – not a one night stand girl. "You always did the opposite of what Joe wanted you to do."

"Yeah.. But that one time, he told me to do what I wanted."

"How?" He'd told her to do what she wanted?

She sighs. "When you got shot, I admitted to myself that I loved you in a very different way than I loved Joe. You'd always made it clear that you couldn't give me a relationship. Every day, though, you showed me that you cared. I decided that I was willing to take whatever you were willing to give me. Sex. Love. Friendship. One night or a lifetime of nights. It didn't matter any more. Having you in my life was more important to me than anything else. I knew you wouldn't hurt me intentionally. I trusted in you and what you were offering."

I squeeze her hand. "I'm glad you changed your mind, Steph."

She squeezes my hand back. "I'm glad you changed yours."

We're both quiet for the rest of the ride.

We're standing in a parking lot a block away from the building we've been hired to redecorate.

Three black Broncos. One black Navigator. One black Cayenne. Lester. Bobby. Hal. Tank. Junior. Cal. Hector. Steph. Me. We are all dressed in RangeMan uniforms and Kevlar vests. We're all heavily armed Steph-style. After Hector set her up with a non-lethal armament that worked so well, I incorporated the gear into RangeMan's armory. I have found non-lethal weapons to be especially useful on jobs like this, where lethal force is unnecessary but a show of force keeps the situation under control.

I'm nervous. Since Hector became her partner, I rarely work with Steph. I'm too protective of her, too focused on her. Being distracted in a potentially dangerous situation is bad news. Honestly, I have no idea how Hector manages to work with her daily. I can't do it. I love her too much. I want her safe too badly.

The only reason she's here for this job is because of the circumstances of the job. We're clearing a four bedroom apartment inhabited by ladies of the evening. This isn't a great neighborhood, but it's a quiet one. The landlord is unhappy, as are the other tenants. Legal proceedings are taking too long. In the meantime, not only are johns visiting at all hours of the day and night, but they're bringing drugs with them. A few have threatened other residents of the building when they dared to complain. It's not a good situation. Making it even worse is the fact that we'll be dealing with four women, known prostitutes, possibly under the influence of God knows what. Having Steph along is protection for us, not them.

We're leaning on the hood of the Cayenne, planning the final details and going over everything one more time. We do our best to allow for all possibilities so as to minimize risk to everyone involved. Our hope is to find the women alone and sleeping. That is a best case scenario: surprise them and don't give them an opportunity to fight. Worst case is they're not alone, they're awake, and someone other than us is armed.

I'm betting on – and planning for – the latter.

One last equipment check and we're ready to go. We pile back into the vehicles for the short trip down the block. Better to have the vehicles readily available in case of problems. Instead of going with Hector, Steph climbs into the Cayenne with me. I look at her. "Babe?"

"Nerves."

I lean over and kiss her gently. "Sure you're up for this?"

"Yes."

"You change your mind, you say so." It's been a while since she worked a job like this. I know she still hasn't totally gotten over Tank being shot and her nearly being blown up doing guard duty at her first redecorating job.

She nods. "I'll be fine. Who's taking guard duty?" I knew that was the true source of her nerves.

"Contract workers. I also hired Lula for this job, considering who we're evicting."

Steph laughs. "You hired Lula? Does Tank know?"

"I hired Lula. Tank knows. He's not happy with me."

"I bet."

We park the SUV's in front of the building and get out. Weapons check. Security jackets handed out and donned. The building owner and super meet us at the doors. The super provides us with a key for the door. We confirm the apartment number. Photos of the evictees are passed around.

"Anyone in there with them?" I ask the super.

"I think there's one man. He arrived a little after midnight, and I haven't heard or seen him leave."

"Any chance he left without you noticing?"

"Yeah, but not without Nora Brown noticing."

"Nora Brown?

"The elderly lady who lives in the apartment between the elevator and the stairs. She never sleeps."

"Get her down here." I order. I want to find out if we're dealing with a wild card or not. The super makes a face. Apparently Ms. Brown dislikes being disturbed.

She comes down in the elevator five minutes later. She looks both pissed and frightened, staring at us. I begin to step forward to talk to her, but Steph shoots me a look that stops me dead in my tracks. She approaches the old woman. Steph smiles warmly at Nora. "Hello, Ms. Brown. I'm Stephanie. I work for the company charged with removing the undesirables from your floor. May I ask you a few questions?"

Nora's rheumy eyes shift to focus on Steph. I can see her fear drain away. She smiles back at Steph. "Yes."

"We understand that the ladies in 3D got company around midnight. Has their guest left?" Steph is using a soothing tone of voice.

"No, he's still there. He's a regular. He always arrives around the same time and leaves just before ten in the morning."

Shit. We don't have four hours to wait. Hopefully, he'll be in dreamland, too. That's the best we can hope for at this point. The guys and I exchange glances, confirming that the job is still on and no one has any problems with moving forward.

"Thank you so much, Ms. Brown." Steph pulls a twenty out of her pocket and hands it over. "Please, go have some breakfast on me. It's the least I can do since you were so helpful to us. I am sorry we inconvenienced you."

Nora Brown grabs the twenty and heads out the front door of the building.

''Proud of you, Babe." Once again, her methods got us needed information quickly and without any intimidation from us. It's probably more detailed than we would have gotten, too.

"Ready?" she asks. Nods all around. We split into three teams. One for the elevator, one team on the front stairs, one team on the back stairs.

I decide that Steph, Hector and I will take the elevator. I know she hates stairs, and I feel she deserves a small treat for handling Ms. Brown so well. Everyone smirks at me. "Let's move!" I bark.

Everyone moves.

The elevator goes right up without stopping, and it's empty except the three of us. Tank reports that the front stairwell is clear. Junior gives the same report for the rear stairwell. Third floor corridor: empty except for us. Still split into teams, we gather around the door to 3D. Tank's team is on the left side of the door. Junior's team in on the right. My team front and center. We'll be the first to move into the apartment.

Steph unlocks the door while Hector and I cover her from behind. She steps cautiously into the apartment. It's blessedly silent. No sounds of movement. No television. No radio. No shower.

We advance into the apartment. We agreed ahead of time to hit all four bedrooms at once and bring all tenants to the living room once secured. Steph and Hector will watch them while we clear the apartment. Once it's clear, the police will be called. All four tenants have outstanding warrants, which makes life easier for us. We don't have to worry about them coming back as soon as they've been evicted. Their stuff will be put into storage off site. Keys to the storage units will go to the police station with the women.

Steph is in the center of the hallway with the bedrooms. The rest of us are positioned in pairs outside the four bedroom doors. Hector and I. Tank and Cal. Lester and Bobby. Junior and Hal.

At a signal from Steph, we hit the doors simultaneously.

There's a lone woman in our room, sleeping. We quickly secure her and return to the doorway. Lester and Bobby are standing in the doorway across the hall from us. Tank and Cal appear at their door. I can hear the woman in their room screaming at them. We're waiting on Junior and Hal, who obviously got the only room occupied by more than one person. There's a loud banging followed by the sounds of a struggle.

A naked man with a gun comes running out of the room. He looks around frantically. Obviously, he wants out of this apartment. I'm prepared to let him leave. We're not here for him. I hold my hand up, signaling my guys to stay put and let him go. Steph, who's still in the middle of the hall, takes a step toward the wall so that he can pass her and leave.

Does he do that? Of course not.

Instead, he makes a grab for Steph and pulls her against him. His arm wraps around her neck. He's shorter than her, so she's off balance, being pulled backwards. His other arm comes up and he points the gun at her head.

Christ. I feel like vomiting. I start sweating, my mind kicking into overdrive, looking for a way to keep her safe. Amazingly enough, Steph looks calm. To be honest, she's fairly used to things like this happening to her. I lock eyes with her in an effort to see what's going on in that head of hers.

"Let her go. You're free to leave." I force myself to remain calm and speak in a normal tone of voice.

He starts screaming in Spanish about the whore, who he seems to think set him up. I repeat myself in Spanish. He screams some more, accusing me of lying to him.

I'm at a loss. I can't rush the guy without risking her. Neither can anyone else. He doesn't seem to be willing to let her go. I look over at Hector. I can tell he's thinking the same things I am.

Shit.

I realize Steph is saying something. I almost laugh when I realize she's using Hector's Trick in reverse. She's speaking softly to the man, in English. Only, she's not saying soothing things. She's telling him she's going to punish him for doing this to her.

Slowly, infinitesimally, the arm around her neck loosens.

Without warning, she lets her knees buckle. Surprised, he lowers the gun to grab her and pull her back up. Her hand shoots out and she grabs the gun. Instead of fighting him for it, she ejects the clip, leaving him only the round he has chambered – if there is one in the chamber. She jerks her arm back, driving her elbow into his temple. He drops like a ton of lead.

I look at her. I want nothing more than to grab her and pull her to me, kiss her senseless... I can't though. Not now. She's unharmed, and we need to finish this job. I manage to smile. "You done showing off so we can get back to work?" I ask her.

The hall is filled with coughs and a few errant giggles. "Proud of you, Babe!" the boys chorus.

She rolls her eyes. She looks a little shaken, but not too bad. She crouches down and cuffs the guy. "Someone get him out of my way," she orders. Hector and I step forward and grab him under the arms. We lift him up and drag him to the living room, where we deposit him on the floor. Unfortunately, he's clumsy and has several accidents on the way to the living room, crashing into the door frame, an end table, the coffee table, Hector's fist, my boots…

The four women are brought into the living room. One is still screaming and crying. It's beginning to get on my nerves. I step forward to stun her. Steph's hand on my arm stops me. She holds up one finger to me.

Steph addresses the screamer. "Stop screaming and I'll help you."

Silence. The woman looks up at Steph. Tears are running her face and she blinks, trying to look at Steph. She laughs bitterly. "You? You'll help me? You belong to them!" She jerks her chin at me and the guys. "You people don't help whores. You take them to jail."

Steph looks down at the woman. "I do belong to them, but that doesn't stop me from helping people, if I want to. What's your name?"

The woman is staring at Steph, opened mouthed. So are the rest of us. "Georgia."

"You know Lula, Georgia?"

Georgia thinks for a minute. "She hung out with Jackie on Stark Street, dint she? Big black chick. Where she workin' at?"

"That's her. And that" – Steph points at Tank – "is her man. He's not the kind who makes her entertain other men. She's got a real job now." Georgia turns to look at Tank.

Tank blushes. I think. "That true?" Georgia asks Tank. Tank nods. "Prove it." Tank reaches for his wallet and hands over a dozen photos of Lula and him. "Huh." Georgia hands Tank back the pictures and turns to Steph. "How do you know Lula?"

"Benito Ramirez beat her to a pulp and left her for dead on my fire escape. I found her. I also work with her now."

Georgia's eyes are huge. "You're her? Stephanie Plum? That Stephanie?"

"I'm that Stephanie."

Georgia's eyes fill with tears again. "You really gonna help me?"

"If you I can."

"I can't lose them. If I go back to jail, I lose them!" Georgia's voice is choked with tears.

"Can't lose what?"

"My kids!"

"Social Services have them?"

Georgia shakes her head. "No…."

Steph's expression hardens. "Your pimp?"

Again, Georgia shakes her head. "No…"

Steph sighs, exasperated now. "Then where are they?"

"In my closet!"

Steph turns a shade of white I've never seen on anyone with a pulse. She bolts down the hall. I'm right behind her, Hector hot on my heels. Steph stops in front of the closet door. She looks at me with trepidation. I pull her back and Hector opens the door. I grab Steph's arm to keep her upright as the door swings open.

Two terrified children look up at us. I let Steph fall to her knees. "Hey, guys," she says softly. They look at her. She holds out her hands. They back up, further into the closet. Steph stays down on the floor. "Go get Georgia."

Hector leaves and returns a minute later with Georgia. She kneels next to Steph and speaks softly to the children. "You come out."

The two children emerge from the closet slowly. They're looking at Hector and I warily. I sit down behind Steph. Hector sits behind Georgia. The children return their attention to Steph and their mama. "I'm Stephanie Manoso." Georgia shoots her a look of disbelief, then her eyebrows disappear near her hairline as she turns to me. I keep my face blank, but put a possessive hand on Steph's waist. Her eyebrows manage to go even higher. "You can call me Steph. What may I call you?" she asks, looking at the little girl, who appears to be the oldest.

The little girl looks at her mom. Georgia nods. "Holly," the child whispers.

Steph smiles and holds out her hand. Slowly, after several glances at her mother, Holly slides her hand into Steph's. "Pleased to meet you, Holly." The child smiles shyly. Steph turns to the other child. I'm relatively sure that it's a boy, but I can't be sure. "What may I call you?" Steph asks.

The second child looks at me, then Hector. Now that I can see his face, I'm sure it's a boy. He looks at Steph. Finally, he looks at Georgia, then at Holly. "Are you bad men?" the child asks.

Georgia answers him. "No. They are good men." She looks at me. "He is Mr. Manoso, Stephanie's husband. And that," – looking at Hector – "is her partner, Hector."

I can see Steph is surprised that this woman knows Hector, and especially that he's her partner. "That's right." Steph is nodding. "Mr. Manoso is my husband, and Hector is my partner. They are both good men." I liked the tone of her voice when she introduced me as her husband – possessive and caressing.

The little boy holds out his hand to Steph now. "I'm Jakey."

"Pleased to meet you, Jakey."

The children are sent to play on the other side of the room. Steph looks at Georgia. "What are the charges?"

"Solicitation. Possession. Carrying concealed." Everyone carries concealed in Trenton. Not a big deal, alone. The solicitation charge was no big deal, either. We could probably get her community service and probation for those two charges. The possession of narcotics charge was another matter – especially if she'd had enough for the prosecutor to tack 'with intent to distribute' onto the original charge.

"Did you have enough for the prosecutor to add intent to the possession charge?" I ask.

Georgia looks at the floor. Tears are dripping off of her face. She nods. This complicates things. Come to think of it, this whole situation has complicated things. "I don't know what to do. I don't want them to go into foster care."

I look over at Steph. Her face tells me she's already decided to take care of the kids. "How do you want to do this, Babe?" I'm willing to take them home with us, if that's what she wants. Hell, if she asks me to buy them a house and get them a nanny and a cook, I'll do it. Even is she wants to move Grandma Mazur in to help take care of them. Maybe not that last part…

Steph is wearing her thinking face: eyes narrowed, nose wrinkled, mouth twisted. Suddenly, her face smoothes out and she starts firing off orders. "I don't want this place full of cops to make the arrests. They'll scare the kids. Get Lula here. She can ride with the guys to deliver the other three to the station. The john goes to the station, too. If he has no warrants, I'll press charges for armed assault." I must admit, I'm impressed by that one. "Hector, call my sister and get her here now. Ranger, get your lawyer on the phone. Have him arrange a meeting with Val, Kloughn and Georgia. I'm going to see if Val will take the kids for now. We'll need temporary custody paperwork, at the very least."

It's a good plan. Her sister is good with children. They'll be well cared for by Val and Kloughn. I nod my assent and reach for my cell. Hector's already on his, walking down the hall to deal with the people in the living room. Steph pulls out her phone while I'm on hold for the lawyer. I raise an eyebrow. "Calling my mother. If I don't ask for her help, I'll never hear the end of it – especially since I didn't let her dress me like a marshmallow or an eggplant." She's on to something, there. Maybe it'll buy some forgiveness for the wedding.

"Mom?" Pause. "Yes, I'm back." Pause. "Mom, I need some help." Pause. "No, I'm not leaving him! I need some help with two kids." Pause. "NO. I'M. NOT. PREGNANT." Through gritted teeth. Pause. "Mom. Will you help me or not?" Pause. Sigh. Longer pause. "Mom. I have two children who need a place to stay. I'm going to ask Val to take them, but they don't have enough room at their place. I need you to go find them a bigger house." Pause. "At least four bedrooms and two bathrooms." Pause. "I'm paying, Mom." What did she just say? Pause. "Price? I've got two hundred fifty thousand for a down payment. Make sure they can handle the mortgage on whatever's left." What was that down payment figure? Pause. "I need it done yesterday. The sooner we can close, the better." Pause. "Fine. We'll be there for dinner Sunday. Bye." She closes her phone with a roll of her eyes.

I look at her. Did she just offer two hundred fifty large for a down payment on a house for her sister? "You got that kind of cash, Babe?" If she doesn't, I'll cover it.

She nods. "I've banked my salary for the past year and most of the bond money. I've dumped some into long term CDs and the rest in a high yield savings account. I have half a million set by, but they're going to need furniture, too." I feel my jaw drop. She's never been a saver. I look at her, dumbfounded. "Ranger, did you really think even I could spend that much on shoes and Victoria's Secret? Besides, Val and Albert will never make enough to send three kids to college. I was planning on helping out." Honestly I hadn't really thought about what she did with her money. It's hers. Come to think of it, I hadn't really thought much about how much she was making going after higher-bond FTA's.

"Never really thought about it, Babe. I'll cover all the attorney's fees, then. We'll have to bring in a third attorney to represent Georgia."

Steph groans. "Call The Dick. He was a lousy husband, but he's a good lawyer."

I make the call and fill Dickey in on the details. He agrees to represent Georgia for both the custody issue and the criminal charges. A meeting with all parties is arranged and scheduled to take place in two hours.

Hector, Steph and I pack up the kids' stuff. Georgia digs out necessary documents like birth certificates. Once we have everything belonging to the children packed up, we start on the other rooms.

Maybe half an hour later, Val arrives with Kloughn. Steph explains the situation. Val and Kloughn are nodding. I notice that Kloughn has baby Lisa in one of those backpack things. She is happily pulling his hair. He doesn't seem to notice. They follow Steph to Georgia's room. Hector and I follow, too.

Steph introduces everyone. The kids go to Val willingly enough. They're a little more reserved with Kloughn. I can't say I'm surprised. There's probably never been a stable male in their lives.

"Babe, I'm going to bring the kids' stuff down to the minivan."

"Okay."

"I'll help Ranger," Hector says, grabbing a box.

Kloughn hands me his keys. Hector and I get the first load into the van. He stops and looks at me. "You okay?"

Huh? "Yeah, why?"

"I saw the look on her face when that bastard grabbed her." Oh. Shit.

"I wanted to kill him."

Hector nods. "Me, too. But you can't live her life for her."

"I know. I don't know how you do it every day."

"You really want to know?" Hector looks very serious. I nod, not sure I mean it. "With all the shit that happens to her, she never gets hurt bad. I figure God won't let her die. Too many people like her die, and there'd be only people like you and me left."

He's right. She's the light that people like Hector and me search for in our darkness. If too many lights go out, only darkness will be left. It's true that she never gets seriously hurt. Stitches. Burns. Fractures. Tetanus shots. Bumps. Scrapes. Antibiotics. Bruises. She's rarely even kept overnight. "Good way to look at it."

Hector shakes his head. "The only way to look at it."

He's right.

It feels much later than one in the afternoon. The apartment was packed up by the guys after they returned from the station accompanied by Zero and Ram, who were unable to resist an opportunity to tease Steph about knocking out the john after he grabbed her. Steph and I took Georgia to meet with the lawyers, Val and Albert. Hector had taken the kids – including Baby Lisa - to Mrs. Plum, who was waiting at Val's home, watching the children. A custody agreement was made. A hearing in Family Court has been arranged for Friday morning, so that everything will be legal.

Once the meeting was done, Steph and I took Georgia to the police station. Dickey followed us there, arranging for Georgia to 'turn herself in' and immediately going on record as her attorney.

We arrived back at the office twenty minutes ago. We hit the control room for reports. Tank is still dealing with everything that doesn't specifically require me. I think I'm going to leave him in charge until we get through court on Friday. Hopefully, I can convince Steph that she doesn't need to go back to work until I do. I want her more or less to myself just a bit longer.

When we walk into the apartment, I stop so fast that Steph walks into my back.

"Oomph! What'd you stop for?" I hear from behind me. I step aside, so she can look into the apartment. "Holy shit!"

The guys brought her birthday gifts here after the party Friday night. With the wedding, she hadn't had time to open any of them. There were a lot of them. Over the past few days, though, more gifts have clearly been added. Some are obviously birthday gifts, while others are wrapped in wedding paper. There is a veritable mountain of gift wrapped packages and gift bags. It fills one whole side of the entryway, and I can't see an end, since the pile turns the corner into the living room. "Definitely, Babe."

"I don't know whether to laugh or cry! Where do we start?"

I have no clue. "How about we sort it all out after lunch?"

"Lunch?" Food: A direct line to her brain.

"I'll call Ella." Which is exactly what I do. We eat lunch in the dining room, because the coffee table is buried. So is the couch.

When we're finished, we begin the process of sorting. It takes us three hours. We have placed birthday gifts in the living room, since there were more of them there to begin with. So far as I can tell, that is where the birthday gift pile originated. Wedding gifts have been moved to the dining room. Even as we sorted, more arrived.

In the end, the two piles are close to even, numbers-wise. I'm more than slightly stunned. I never envisioned anyone sending wedding gifts when we essentially eloped. I'm admittedly curious about who sent them, but not so much what they are.

I am, however, curious to see what Steph got for birthday gifts. I'm particularly looking forward to Lula's, Connie's, and Grandma Mazur's gifts. I'm hoping the birthday pile gets opened first, just to see those gifts. "Which pile do you want to start with, Steph?"

"I have no idea." She's flopped down on the newly cleared couch.

"Why don't you start with your birthday gifts, since they're right here?" See how clever I am? I offer her the path of least exertion – her favorite.

"Good idea." She pulls over the gift bag nearest to her. It's Grandma Mazur's, and the bag is big enough to hold a microwave oven. "Oh. My. God." She's lifted the tissue paper and turned purple.

"Anything good, Babe?" Wordlessly, she holds the bag out to me – using both hands. I take it, noting that it's surprisingly heavy. I look inside. It's filled nearly to the top with individually wrapped flavored condoms and massage oils like the cherry one Steph once brought home from Pleasure Treasures. "Interesting," I manage to choke out without laughing. Grandma Mazur is apparently under the impression that we do nothing but have sex. There must be a thousand condoms in that bag.

Steph looks at me. "Not bad? At least my mother didn't see it!" I can't help it any longer. I burst out laughing. Steph looks at me for a minute, then joins me. "D-d-d-doesn't she th-th-think we do anything else?" I'm laughing too hard to answer her. Maybe it would be best for her to open Lula's and Connie's a bit later.

I rummage through the pile and find the gifts from her parents, nieces and sister. Those should be safe. They are; gift certificates to Macy's, Pino's, and Mr. Alexander's. The vast majority of gifts are similar: gift certificates to places at the mall and restaurants. All of Trenton knows what she likes: food and shopping.

Juan and Hector got her lotion and shower gel from Bath & Body works. It's called White Tea & Ginger. The card says that what they've bought her will compliment the Bvlgari that I use. I open a bottle of the shower gel and sniff it. They're right. I like it when Steph uses my shower gel, but I like the light clean scent of the White Tea even better. Steph takes the open bottle from me and smells it. "Mmm… I like this! They're right – it'll go well with the Bvlgari," she says. I make a mental note to buy more.

She opens Lula's gift a little nervously. Can't say I blame her after Grandma's gift. She starts to giggle and pulls out a red scrap of spandex. She holds it up. I think it's supposed to be a dress, but it won't cover much of anything. And whatever it does cover might as well be bare because it's going to be beyond skintight. No way to get so much as a thong under that. I swallow hard, thinking about the way it will show off Steph's curves… "Try it on, Steph." My voice is husky. She looks up at me. I let the desire I feel for her show in my eyes. She grabs the dress and runs to change.

When she comes back to the living room, I'm pleased to see how right I was about the way it would fit her. She's not wearing anything under it. The hemline barely covers her ass. The neck is a deep V that exposes the curves of her breasts – and her bellybutton. The back of the dress plunges all the way to the small of her back. It looks as though it's been skillfully painted on.

"Like what you see?" she asks coyly.

All I can do is nod. I gather her into my arms and kiss her deeply. "Wanna nap, Steph?"

She giggles. "No, but you can take me to bed."

I take her to bed. Who am I to tell her no?