I deserve no credit for using the world created by JE.
Jenny (JenRar) thank you for your excitement and suggestions throughout this story as the beta.
Chapter 25 – Another Day in Paradise
"Are you sure we have everything we need?" I asked, tugging on the little ivory slip dress I was wearing to get married.
"Relax," Marco said, rubbing his hand up and down my bare arm until I quit fidgeting and leaned my head on his shoulder.
"It just seems so simple," I told him, worried that my luck of things usually going to hell in a handbasket anytime they seemed to be easy would kick in soon.
"I wouldn't call it simple, but if you want something hard enough, sheer determination will usually get it done," he reminded me.
The day he'd proposed in the shower, we'd barely managed to get dressed in time to make it to the court house to file for our license. There was a three day waiting period, and I'd needed proof of my divorce in order to complete the application. Marco had stepped out in the hallway for five minutes while I'd worked on filling in the little blanks on my part of the form. When he came back in, he'd asked for a fax number, and within seconds, there'd been a copy of my divorce papers coming through.
When we'd left with our license, we'd convinced the secretary for a judge across the hall to make an appointment for our marriage in three days. It had taken a little begging – from both of us – but she'd eventually turned on the computer she'd just turned off and had given us the only slot in his schedule that was free on Friday morning.
"I'm not the easiest person to get along with," I warned him for probably the tenth time.
I could feel him laughing, even if he did mute the sound. "Neither am I, Jefa."
I turned and looked at him, "What does that mean?" He'd been referring to me as Jefa more and more often over the last few days, and I liked it, but I wondered if it was appropriate for public use.
"It's Spanish for boss," he admitted, looking down at his fingers. "It slipped out when you told me stand against the wall with my palms flat and not to move. You were so determined to finally have free reign with me that I was making a joke about you bossing me around. Somehow it stuck."
"Am I controlling? I don't want to be one of those domineering women that controls you. I mean, I would hate for you to treat me that way, so I can't stand the thought of me doing it to you." I was beginning to panic again with the fear that even before we were married, I was already screwing this up.
Marco leaned over and put his lips right against my ear to whisper, "There's a big difference between a control freak, which you are not, and a dominant, which I hope to God you are, because every time you stand up to me in bed, I get so turned on, I can't think straight. I swear if you weren't calling the shots sometimes, I'd just lay there, unable to move."
"It's not a bad thing?" I whispered back.
He shook his head no so that his nose was softly rubbing my ear. "No, it's one of my favorite things about you. Do you know how sexy it is to be marrying a strong woman who knows her own mind and isn't afraid to speak up for herself? Shit, the idea that you'll let me know when there are things you want or need so that I can satisfy those desires is making it hard to sit here. And it's going to be damn hard to stand up without embarrassing myself."
"Mr. Rodriguez, Ms. Plum?" a kind voice called out from the office behind us.
We stood up, and I pretended to look away while Marco adjusted his pants, and then buttoned his suit jacket. When he took my hand, I gave him one last chance to back out, promising myself this would be the last time I'd voice my worries that he'd wake up and realize that while he was the perfect man, I was far from ideal as a spouse and come to his senses.
"Are you sure?"
He spun around and looked at me, narrowing his eyes. "The first time you asked me that, I thought it was sweet, that maybe you were a little worried that I'd change my mind, but now, it's starting to get under my skin. I've assured you, I've promised you, and I've shown you that this is what I want. Are you having doubts?"
"None," I quickly replied, meaning it completely. "I just can't believe you'd really want to spend the rest of your life with me."
"I don't," he interrupted, making that fluttering in my stomach threaten to turn into a major storm. "The rest of my life isn't nearly long enough. We're talking eternity here, Steph, so you need to be sure you can handle me that long."
He was right. I wanted this. I believed him to be an honest, good man, so I had to let go of my doubts based on what guys had done in the past. Clearly, Marco was nothing like any man I'd ever known, so it would make sense that he wouldn't approach marriage in the same way, either.
"Let's do this," I said with confidence, feeling my heart beat stronger, but not faster.
We walked in, and the judge behind the desk looked up and smiled. "I was beginning to worry you'd changed your mind," he said, glancing at us each in turn.
"Gladys," he yelled, making me jump. "My secretary will be a witness. She's nosy enough to find a way to be in here for it anyway, so we may as well make her presence official."
I liked him right away. He reminded me of an older version of my dad. He looked to be in his mid to late seventies and had a slight hump at his back, but when his secretary came into the office, he stood, slipped into the black robe hanging behind him, and transformed into a man who had been given power by the State and knew how to carry that authority well.
He asked a few questions about vows, rings, and pictures so that once we started, he wouldn't have to stop again. I looked down at the brace on my left hand and knew it had to go. I hadn't wanted an engagement ring, but I definitely wanted a gold band on my finger. I pulled the Velcro straps and slipped off the brace, happy to see there was very little swelling or bruising anymore. It shouldn't have surprised me, because I had barely used my hand for anything this week. Marco had been exceptionally attentive.
I set it in the chair and stood to face Marco as the judge began reciting words from the order of service for a marriage. When it got to our vows, he took us through the original form, including the use of the word obey. He seemed surprised that we both wanted to include that word, but I knew it was perfect for us.
We added our own vows, which were close to being word for word what we'd said in the shower when Marco proposed.
The judge had us exchange rings and reminded us that they were symbols of our promises to each other on this day. We should wear them so that other people would know of our intent to share our lives and our love, and we should wear them to show each other that our vows never expired. Just as the circles binding our fingers never had to end, neither would our commitment to each other. Having them described this way made me proud of the shiny gold band on my finger. Marco slipped it on carefully so he wouldn't jar my still healing wrist, and then lifted my hand to place a kiss over the newly adorned finger.
"By the power invested in me by the State of Florida, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride," the judge announced with a wide grin.
Marco leaned into me and hesitated just shy of touching our lips together.
I whispered, "Just you and me," as a reminder of the pledge we'd often made to each other over the last three days.
Our lips joined, and that familiar feeling of touching the lips I was convinced I knew better than my own was there, but it was more. I knew that marriage changed a relationship, but feeling the strength of Marco's love pouring into me as his lips parted to allow his tongue to slip into my mouth was a new kind of intensity.
When he pulled back just enough to look into my eyes, I couldn't stop myself from saying, "Wow."
Marco smiled at me and agreed. "Wow, and then some."
"Mr. and Mrs. Rodriguez, if you'd like to face Gladys, she'll be glad to take your picture," the judge directed.
While I appreciated her warning us when she was about to take the photo, I didn't need to be told to smile. Something told me the grin on my face was going to be a permanent fixture for the foreseeable future.
We finished the technicalities and signed our certificate, getting a fancy copy for us to take now, and then arranged to have the official one mailed to Trenton after the State filed it.
We walked out hand in hand into the sunny morning, pausing at the top step of the courthouse and kissing again. This time, neither of us held back as we had for the sake of respecting the judge in his office.
When Marco pulled back and looked at me, I said, "You need to draw on whatever speed driving skills you have, because I need to be alone with you, soon."
"Si, Jefa," he responded, taking my hand in his and setting a brisk pace to get us to the truck.
As he pulled out of the parking lot to get us back to the house, Marco asked, "It was different after he said we were married, wasn't it? I mean, was I imagining that?"
I let out a big breath. "No, I felt it, too. It was still kissing you. It was familiar, and we fit the same, but the way it felt was enhanced – like it was more."
"Do you think it will always be like that?" he asked, voicing the same question I'd been thinking about, too.
"I want to know if it's just kissing or if…everything will be more, too," I said, trying to avoid the word sex.
Of course, just the suggestion was all it took for Marco's mind to go there. I knew he'd understood when he floored the truck and we took off.
We were both in a hurry, so the moment he put the truck in park, our doors were ripped open, and we met up at the base of the steps at full speed to the door.
Marco froze before putting the key in the door and said, "Will you stand here and wait until I turn off the alarm?"
He was asking, not commanding, so I agreed, although I didn't understand why it mattered. He went through the usual routine of hitting the numbers to deactivate the alarm, and then pressed his thumb on the scanner until it beeped three times, indicating it was off.
I watched as he threw his keys on the counter top and turned around.
He began walking back toward me, watching me with such intensity, until he stood beside the open door, looking at me. "My wife," he whispered, before lifting me into his arms and carrying me bridal style across the threshold of the house.
I wanted to be helpful, so I leaned back to grab the door and shut it behind us. Unfortunately, Marco didn't realize what I was doing, and since we were both focused on getting the door closed, he managed to kick it at the same moment I leaned back, and the end result was that it hit me in the side of my head. I buried my embarrassed face in his shoulder, knowing that it was my pride more than my head that was injured.
Marco, on the other hand, swore, kicked the door again to close it, as though it were the door's fault that I was injured, and then took me quickly to the couch to see for himself that I was going to make it.
"I'm so sorry, Jefa," he apologized, while kissing my head and rubbing his hand around on my back.
Then I remembered what he'd first told me back in Boston on our first day of training, when I'd challenged him after getting tired of his silent man routine, and I started to laugh.
"What's so funny?" he asked, probably questioning if the door had hit me hard enough to knock me senseless.
"I was thinking about something you told me once," I said, before recounting the memory. "You once told me to go talk to the guys in Boston and leave you alone, because you were never going to carry me around, pretend to be my husband, call me silly nicknames, and kiss me when I'd gotten hurt because of my own stupidity."
Marco had the decency to blush at the story. "I was such an ass, it's a wonder you didn't tell me what to do with my convictions and leave me alone completely." Then he grinned, and I knew from the sparkle in his eyes, whatever he said next was going to be good. "But it appears I didn't completely lie to you."
"What are you talking about?" I sat up a little straighter to challenge him.
"I'll admit that I was carrying you, calling you a silly nickname, and kissing your head because of our joint stupidity," he pointed out, basically making my case for me, "but I'm not pretending to be your husband... I am your husband, so I guess I was right about that part, at least."
"You are such a smart ass," I teased him, leaning in for a kiss.
It didn't take long for an initial kiss to quickly heat up, until we were making out like a couple of teenagers who knew their parents were out of town for the weekend.
"We have to stop," Marco said quickly, before sucking on a place on my neck that I was sure would perpetually bear a bruise because of his love of that particular spot.
"Don't want to," I disagreed, attempting to match my bruise by giving him one of his own.
A few seconds later, Marco tried again. "Upstairs."
"We'll do it there, too," I assured him, not wanting to wait long enough to handle the fifteen stairs that separated us from our bed.
"No," he said firmly, pulling back to get my attention. "I refuse to take my wife the first time on the couch like some horny kid that can't control himself."
"Then get me upstairs fast, because I feel exactly like a horny kid that can't control herself," I admitted without shame.
A growl was the only warning I got before he lifted me up and took us upstairs, this time with great care to insure I didn't sustain any new injuries. And for the next two hours, Marco devoted himself to kissing every inch of me, assuring himself I'd survived my first injury as his wife.
We were lying side by side, completely spent, when Marco's hand moved to touch me on my inner thigh. He squeezed as a gesture of reassurance, but I couldn't resist saying, "It's not for lack of desire, but I'm pretty sure it's just not physically possible."
Marco laughed lightly, before rolling over to pull me against him. "Give me a few minutes, and I may decide to test whether or not that's true."
We stayed that way, catching our breath, finally helping me to understand the phrase "basking in the afterglow."
"Technically, our vacation ends on Sunday," Marco broke the silence to say.
I made a grumpy sound to let him know I wasn't happy about the idea of going back.
"Would you like me to call Ranger and ask him about some more time off?"
I turned a little so that I could see his face to better understanding what he was asking. "Are you not ready to go back?" I asked.
"Well..." He brushed my hair back from my face. "This week was to help us decompress after our assignment. But I thought it might be nice to extend it for a little while, maybe a week or so, so that we could have a real honeymoon. RangeMan allows staff ten days paid time off when they get married, so we'd both be covered, but I'd need to tell Ranger why we were staying."
I definitely didn't want to go back, and the idea of having a real honeymoon, something Dickie and I certainly had not had, was appealing for all kinds of reasons. But it didn't seem right to have Marco be the one to tell Ranger. If I was really considering him one of my closest friends, then I needed to be the one to make that call.
"We don't have to stay," Marco jumped in, worried by my lack of response. "We've been gone for a while, so you might not want to stay down here any longer."
I touched his lips, tracing them with my fingertip, to quiet his rambling. "I'll call Ranger. I want to be the one to tell him I've got a new last name."
He smiled and made no attempt to talk me out of it. "Is there anyone else you want to tell?" Marco asked.
I thought about it, and then was hit with a wave of guilt. "My family... Oh God, my mother is going to kill me when she finds out I got married and totally cut out all of the 'Burg and her chance to book the hall and show off in front of her friends."
"Jefa," he interrupted before I went too far down that rabbit hole to return. "Trust me, I don't want to upset your mother, because I want my source for little cookies to stay open to me, but I didn't marry your mother. I married you. If you want a big show, I'll gladly go through anything you want back in Jersey, but I liked what we did. It was all about us, and that's what I always thought a marriage should be."
I knew he was right as soon he said the words. I'd been perfectly happy and at peace while we were getting married. The whole time I was saying my vows with Dickie, I was convinced I was going to hurl. The feeling of everyone watching me, waiting for me to make a mistake, was the strongest memory I had of my first marital fiasco. But with Marco, I knew I'd always remember the way he looked at me with such love, the words of the judge speaking of our rings, and the kiss that had surprised us both. I had every detail hidden in my heart so that I could treasure it forever.
"What we had is exactly what I wanted," I assured him. "I'll call my mom and let her know and will probably commit us to a family dinner as soon as we get back to Trenton so she can meet you and see for herself that we're happy. She may be ironing the toilet paper by the time we get there, but I don't want to make a circus out of something that was so special to me."
My answer must have been exactly as he'd hoped, because he could have lit up a room with his smile. "How about I make us some lunch, and you take your time and make whatever calls you want to make?" He gave me a lingering kiss, teasing me just enough to wake me up once more, before saying, "Come downstairs whenever you're ready to eat."
He threw on a pair of shorts and was to the door before I responded, "And after that, then we can have lunch."
It took him a minute to get what I was saying, and then he looked at me and replied, "Lunch first. You're going to need your strength for what I have planned for this afternoon."
"You're going to kill me," I said as he walked down the hall.
"I hope not. Your grandmother would probably insist on an open casket so everyone would see the satisfied look on your face if that's how you plan on leaving this world," he joked.
The thought of Grandma Mazur telling everyone I'd died while having a marathon of sex was enough to get me up and dressed.
It took a few minutes to build up my courage to hit the number most used in my speed dial.
"Yo," he answered immediately.
"Hey, Ranger," I replied, loving the sound of his voice as always.
"Babe, how's vacation?" he asked, before I heard him shut the door, stopping all the background noise.
"The house is lovely, Ranger. Thank you for letting us use it," I said, always mindful of my 'Burg manners.
Ranger chuckled. "It's just as much Rodriguez's as it is mine," he pointed out.
There was a short stretch of silence, before he spoke again. "Something on your mind?"
"Yeah," my mouth answered before I could stop it, but then my brain couldn't figure out how to say what I needed to, so the silence came back.
Of course, since I was never this quiet, Ranger jumped to conclusions. "Has he hurt you? Do you need to come home? I'll fly down there myself so I can get you back up here and kick his ass at the same time."
"No!" I jumped in before he started ordering the plane. "It's not that. I'm fine, Marco is…great."
"Great, huh?" Ranger picked up on the change in my tone when I spoke of my husband.
"Actually, I was calling to see if it was possible to extend our time here a little," I began.
"Of course. You've got plenty of earned time you've never taken. Rodriguez does, too. How long do you want to stay there?" he asked, so willing to give me whatever I asked for.
"Marco said something about ten days off being standard," I started, uncertain as to why I was having so much time sharing my good news.
"Ten days?" Ranger asked, totally confused. After a pause, he tried again. "Is there something you want to tell me? An announcement you need to make?"
"We got married this morning," I blurted out with a smile on my face as I said it, despite my worry over how Ranger would take the news.
"Married?" Ranger repeated as a question.
"Married. I'm now Stephanie Rodriguez," I said for the first time, finding that I loved the way it fit together."
"Babe," Ranger said, before pausing. I was beginning to worry he was going to leave it at that and I'd have to figure out what that single word was supposed to mean. Before I could run down the list of possibilities, he began to laugh a little and said, "Congratulations."
"Are you laughing at me?" I asked defensively.
"No. I'm happy for you," he corrected me. "It took a minute to adjust to the idea of you being someone's wife. And if it had been to anyone else, I think I'd be pissed as hell, but with Rodriguez, since I saw you in Miami, I've thought about it. He'll be good to you. He's as faithful as humanly possible, he'll be open and honest with you, and that man will absolutely kill anything that even thinks about hurting you."
"I've already married him. You don't need to sell me on the idea," I interrupted.
"Stephanie Rodriguez," Ranger repeated, trying it out himself. Then he began to laugh even louder, as though he'd just been struck by a thought.
"What is so funny?" I had to know, because it was so rare that Ranger laughed like this.
"Tell your husband that I'll approve your ten days off, despite not getting the four weeks notice I'm supposed to get for honeymoons, only if the two of you have dinner the first time with your family before you return to work. If he can survive telling your mother and grandmother that you eloped and got married outside of the 'Burg, then I'll know he's still tough enough to work at RangeMan," Ranger bargained.
We talked for a few more minutes, until I began to get anxious to see Marco again. Hopefully after ten more days alone, I'd get this all consuming need to touch him under control.
We were about to get off the phone, when I said, "I can't thank you enough for this."
"No need. It's a benefit for working here," he said, deflecting my compliment.
"Not what I meant. I have you to thank for the fact that I'm happily married right now," I clarified.
"I guess I did force you two to work together, didn't I?" he said, taking credit for the wrong thing again.
"Technically, yes, but that isn't what I meant, either." I hated to disappoint him. "I was thanking you for being the first guy to support me so that I learned to trust again. If it hadn't been for your constant friendship, I never would have been able to trust Marco enough to love him."
He paused before responding. "Can I ask something of you?"
"Anytime," I promised.
"Don't forget when you're back in Trenton that we all love you. It may not be the same as Rodriguez, but we still love you," he said, which explained the reserved sound in his voice.
"I can't forget it, because I feel the same way about you guys. Marco is fully aware that he's a big part of my life, but he isn't my whole life. You guys have been there for me longer than he has. And although he has access to parts of me that you guys don't, he knows that I have to have my Merry Men to be happy. You're all my family, and he's just married into it," I explained.
"I like that, Babe," he confessed. "But there's no way I'm telling my men that you refer to us as the Merry Men."
"I'll bet they'd let me call them that without complaining," I challenged.
"Really?" Ranger recognized the challenge. "How are you going to manage that?"
"I'll bet if I had a reason to appear on five in my distraction outfit from Boston, I could get them to let me call them anything I pleased."
"They've seen you in plenty of hot dresses before, and you don't call them that to their faces," he disagreed.
"True, but they've never seen me in leather, with a crop and collar on my arm, looking for something to rule over and dominate," I countered.
There was a pause, before Ranger groaned. "Damn, Babe. I'm pretty sure in that outfit, you could convince me to let you call me Robin Hood."
"I'm holding you to it, Batman," I laughed, before we said a quick goodbye.
I decided there was no reason to call my mother just yet. I was starving for lunch, and more than hungry for my husband. I couldn't remember a time when I'd felt this fulfilled and joyful. I was married to the perfect man, I had the support of my friends back home, and I was about to eat what I was sure was a delicious meal. In the world of Stephanie Plum, that would be considered the perfect day.
Then I caught myself and corrected my original sentiment. That might have been true for Stephanie Plum, but in the world of Stephanie Rodriguez, it was just another day in paradise.