Chapter 36—Exit Ranger; Enter Michael

Sunday, May 9 (still)

By the time she'd cried herself out, the front of Ranger's shirt was soaking wet. He handed her a box of tissues he found on a side table and she noisily blew her nose. Her eyes were red and swollen and her frizzed hair stood out from her head. She was a mess. That was when the police arrived.

Steph was glad it was no one she knew. She and Ranger gave their statements and the two 'alleged' burglars were carted off. Sunny and Frank returned home just as the police were leaving. Both were relieved the robbers were caught and no one was hurt. Chagrined, Sunny pleaded with Ranger to finish the security system at his earliest convenience.

They also noticed the positive change in Stephanie. By the time all their questions were answered, it was after midnight. While Sunny talked quietly with Stephanie to make sure she was handling the night's drama, Frank thanked Ranger for watching over his daughter. The two men had been spending quite a bit of time together in their attempts to help Stephanie overcome her depression.

When Ranger walked Stephanie back to her cottage, she was literally skipping. Ranger was happy to see her in such good spirits, but he knew once the adrenaline left her system, she'd crash. He encouraged her to get some sleep, but she felt energized and had no interest in sleeping.

Steph smiled mischievously as she tried to pull him after her into the bedroom. Ranger was the immovable object and Stephanie was the irresistible force.

When she couldn't budge him, she pulled his hand around to her ass and then ran her hands up his chest. Twining her fingers through his long silky hair, she pulled his head down to her and kissed him.

Gently, Ranger disengaged himself from Steph, kissed the tips of her fingers and turned to leave.

Stung by his rejection, Stephanie mumbled to herself, "I knew it. I repulse him."

Ranger whirled around and grabbed her upper arms, hissing, "Repulse me? How can you say that, Babe? I can't get you out of my mind. When I'm near you, I can't stop myself from touching you, kissing you…"

Staring into her blue eyes, his were nearly black reflecting his heightened passion. Marshalling great restraint, he stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. He couldn't get over how soft she was.

Steph tilted her head into his touch before remembering her train of thought. She interrupted his strained confession. "I just threw myself at you and you rejected me. We're alone in my cottage, we're both single, consenting adults. You're a healthy, heterosexual male." Steph's eyes got wide, "You are…?"

Ranger chuckled and said emphatically, "YES!"

Relieved, Steph resumed her question, "Then why, unless you don't find me attractive?"

Ranger almost sighed, "Because Babe, you're just coming out of a really bad depression. Your emotions are all over the place and I won't do anything to jeopardize your full recovery. Do you have any idea how worried everyone has been? Tonight was an emotional breakthrough for you and you're on an adrenaline high right now. Babe, trust me. You'll crash soon. I'd be taking advantage of you."

"I'm OK with that. Take advantage of me." Steph pressed her lips and body against his again.

Ranger couldn't help kissing her back, his head starting to spin, but he mustered his resolve and again stepped back from her.

"No, Babe. Trust me in this. Sleep on it and let's see how you feel tomorrow. OK, Steph? Please?"

The magic word, but Steph still couldn't let it go, "Why did you leave that night in the solarium? You kissed me and it meant something, at least to me, and then you ran out the door. You couldn't get away from me fast enough. What explanation was I left with except that I repulsed you?"

Ranger closed his eyes, remembering the dream that had disturbed him that night. He remembered the powerful emotions that flooded his consciousness as he held her and kissed her, as she kissed him back. He hadn't been prepared for anything as deep as that. That was when he still 'didn't do relationships.'

"Babe, I can't explain it, but believe me, you do not repulse me." He leaned in holding her jaw in his hand and kissed her long and hard, and then turned her around and swatted her ass. "Now go to bed, alone, and get some sleep. I promise, we'll talk tomorrow."

He knew if he stayed, his resolve would crumble. Steph's advances weren't a reasoned decision or choice, they were a reaction to the stress and adrenaline. There would be time for passion tomorrow when she was well rested and thinking clearly again. He was already planning their day: first, breakfast (he knew it would have to include a doughnut or two); then talking…about everything; then, well…he'd make sure he was ready for any contingency. One thing for sure, he wouldn't let any of his men know his plans; he wasn't taking any chances they'd try to keep him from his Babe.

Ranger closed the front door behind him, leaving a puzzled but smiling Stephanie standing in the middle of her living room in her cute 'mice' pajamas.

Monday, May 10

Stephanie's POV

I woke up Monday morning to sunlight streaming through my bedroom window. Something felt different and then I remembered last night. A smile spread across my face and got wider and wider until my cheeks hurt.

My funk was gone. And Ranger liked me. Better than that, he couldn't stop thinking of me. My smile was so big, I swear it looped around my ears.

For the first time in weeks I wanted to get out of bed. I wanted to see people. I wanted my life back. I thought more about what Ranger had said last night.

Ranger likes me and is attracted to me! But if he likes me so much, why does he feel the need to restrain himself around me?

Steph, remember, the man has been emphatic that he doesn't do relationships. Yeah, but he said he couldn't stop himself from touching me, kissing me. Well, he may want you sexually, but he doesn't want to hurt you when the sexual attraction ends. Remember, no relationships. Crap!

That was a really weak excuse he had last night when I gave him every opportunity to sleep with me. What man turns down a sure thing? I begged him and he still just swatted me on the butt and sent me off to bed. Crap, crap, and more crap.

Ricardo Carlos Mañoso, Batman, man of mystery. I trusted this man with my life, but I also knew he'd break my heart if I expected anything other than a one-night stand. But he said we'd talk today, and he didn't say it all serious like, 'Babe, we need to talk,' it was a happy 'we'll talk tomorrow.'

Could Ranger's claim be true that one night with him would ruin me for all other men? Did I want one night of mind-blowing sex with a Cuban Sex God, knowing that's all it would ever be? Maybe if we did it once, the tension would be gone and we could just go back to being friends. But what if it was too awkward afterward? Now that I knew all my Merry Men worked for Ranger, if he and I were no longer friends, would they still be able to be friends with me? I couldn't stand it if I lost all of them. I shouldn't think so much. It just gets me into trouble.

Dang, the waiting was freaking me out! My thoughts kept going back and forth. I felt like a ping-pong ball was bouncing around in my brain.

I waited all day. I waited all night. Ranger didn't call. I called his cell once, but it went straight to voice mail. I hung up. Neither he nor his men needed to know how desperate I was. I couldn't bear to get rejected again. Even if he'd had to go out of town unexpectedly, like he'd done many times before, he could have at least left me a two-second message. If he'd been in an accident, one of my Merry Men would have called me.

If he'd wanted to pursue what I started last night, he would have at least called me today. His silence shouted volumes.

As hurt as I was, I'd be damned if I was going to sink back into a depression. I was done with feeling sorry for myself. As much as I might want it, Ranger and I just weren't meant to be. He'd made that perfectly clear today without saying a word. Not one word, not one call, not one text. Nothing.

Tuesday, May 11

Tuesday dawned bright and clear. It was the first day of the rest of my life. Yeah, it was a trite cliché, but I needed something positive to focus on. I was determined to make a new beginning for myself. One based on reality, not dreams. Batman was a dream, someone I'd built up in my imagination.

I went to work for the first time since…the event. I still couldn't talk about it and even thinking about it too much started that screaming voice, so I focused on today.

Dad had come out to check on me first thing this morning, just like he'd been doing since…well, for the past few weeks. I knew I'd caused him a world of stress, so it was good to see him smiling again. He asked me if I wanted to help him set up an obstacle course at the Center this weekend. While I didn't think I'd ever try it out personally, it would be fun watching the younger vets put through their paces, all sweaty and shirtless. Something to look forward to.

After Dad left, Sunny came in and we talked a little about how I was feeling and then we discussed Center business. It felt like a normal day. Things were going to be alright.

I finally asked about Michael, knowing he hadn't been heard from after his employers took him away the night of the…just say it, Steph…the shooting. I couldn't believe I'd let him slip from my mind for weeks. I must have really been out of it. Sunny smiled and went over to my door and swung it open. Michael!

Michael was standing in my doorway. Racing around my desk, I flew into his arms and almost knocked him over, until I realized he was on crutches. "Michael, you're OK? How are you? Where've you been? No one's heard from you since…"

Michael dropped his crutches and pulled me into his arms, burrowing his face into my hair. His lips nuzzled my neck and my ear before they found their way to my lips and thoroughly kissed me until I had to come up for air. He held me so tight I squeaked. Sometime during all this, Sunny had slipped out the door and left us alone.

"Stephanie, I'm so sorry I couldn't call you. I've been out of my mind with worry about you. To see you here, smiling. To hold you in my arms again. Sugar, I've missed you so much."

"Michael, what happened?" I asked.

Michael wouldn't let go of me, but did pull back enough so we could look at each other. "The short version is, without my consent, I was placed under 'federal protection' and because of 'national security' issues I wasn't allowed to speak to anyone. I was literally in solitary confinement, albeit a nice one." Michael looked apologetically at me.

"Because of what happened the night of the dance, I'd asked Ranger to look into the gunman's identity for me and his inquiries caught the attention of a high-level intelligence agency. The gunman that died that night was wanted for terrorist activities by several international security agencies. They'd been hunting him for years. Luckily for me, based on recent Intel, they finally figured out he acted alone that night. And since he'd been killed, they agreed to release me, though I had to sign confidentiality agreements as part of my continued employment with the U.S. government."

"Can you talk about any of it?" I asked.

"I can talk about some of it." It was obvious he didn't want to talk about any of it, but I needed to ask.

"Michael, how did the man die?" I'd been afraid to ask my father or Ranger. They were the last two that had struggled with him when he collapsed.

"That's classified. But, Steph, does it really matter how he died or if any one person is responsible? The man was a murderer, a hundred times over. He would have kept on killing innocent people until he was stopped." It was only the second time I'd seen such coldness in Michael's face. The other time was when I'd asked him about his birth parents. I let it drop.

"Sugar, I'd much rather talk about us." His hands drifted downward until they lightly rested on my butt cheeks. I found myself hoping for more. "My arms ached for you, Stephanie, and, damn, you taste so good." Michael kissed me again as his hands cupped my cheeks and pulled me closer.

"I couldn't stay away from you any longer. As soon as the surgeries were done, I insisted on being released and jumped on a plane to come back to you." Michael rained more kisses down on me, my lips, my nose, my eyes. I couldn't help giggling.

I felt adored and giddy at the same time. He was addictive.

I looked into Michael's face and could see how pale and drawn he was, in spite of his broad smile and twinkling blue eyes. I extricated myself from his arms and dragged a chair over, insisting he sit down. I leaned his crutches against the wall. Michael sat gingerly, legs spread wide.

Before I could protest, Michael pulled me down on his right thigh. "Don't worry, Sugar. This leg's as good as new." He tapped his bandaged left leg. "This one will take a few more weeks. Flesh and bone aren't as easy to repair as metal and plastic." He grinned and kissed me again. And again. And again. Michael had kissed me more in the last ten minutes than I'd been kissed in the last ten months (actually it was probably more than in the last ten years, but who wanted to admit that, even to themselves?).

"I'm starting to feel better, Sugar. Your kisses are the best medicine for me. I've missed you, Stephanie, more than you'll ever know. You mean the world to me."

Our lips met in a long tender kiss, his tongue gently moving across my lower lip until I invited him in. French kissing had never seemed so sensuous before. It was actually painful to break apart. As much as I didn't want to admit it, I was feeling guilty at how good it felt to be in his arms.

"Michael, should you really be walking so soon? What if you do some permanent damage or something?" I ran my hand over his spiky blond hair and touched my forehead to his. He kissed me again, his tongue searching for mine, not waiting for an invitation. I let myself enjoy the moment for awhile, sighed and pushed him away so I could demand an answer.

"No fears, Sugar. The doctors were able to replace my damaged artificial knee without detaching the upper implants. My left thigh sustained a little muscle and bone damage from the bullet, so I'll baby it a bit until the bone knits and the muscles strengthen. But Steph, remember, I'm a PJ, a trained medic, and can take care of these little things. I'm fine."

I loved his constant good mood, his grin, his smiling eyes. "I've missed you, Michael." I wrapped my arms around his neck and breathed in his scent, his calmness, his positive energy. It felt so good to be able to hug someone, to kiss him openly and have him return my embraces. To hear him say he missed me, hear the words, 'you mean the world to me,' was like a soothing balm to my bruised heart.

"Really, Steph? You missed me?" he looked into my eyes, searching for something, truth maybe?

I nodded, "Yes, I truly missed you. I was worried about you and I felt so guilty…"

"Stop. Stop right there, Stephanie. You have nothing to feel guilty about. If anyone's guilty, it's me. That's something I need to talk to you about later, but Sugar, I will not let you berate yourself for even a moment about what happened that night. You said you trusted me. Well, Steph, trust me when I say with absolute certainty that you were not responsible for any of the mayhem that transpired. OK?" He stared at me, waiting for my response.

I bowed my head. I'd finally come to terms that I wasn't responsible for Benny's death and Lester and Michael's injuries, but I couldn't totally rid myself of all guilty feelings. He gently lifted my chin until we made eye contact. I sighed, "I'm getting there. The feelings aren't as overwhelming now."

Michael's voice softened, "I was worried about you, Steph. As soon as I was released from federal custody this morning, I called Sunny and she filled me in on what's been going on here. I'm so sorry I couldn't be here for you. You must have gone through hell, Sugar. I would have called you this morning, but I knew I'd be here in a few hours and wanted to surprise you." Again, he touched his forehead to mine and we sat there for a minute just breathing each other in.

Michael changed subjects, "I want to hear all about how you whipped those burglars and with a cast iron skillet, no less. And people say you can't cook…you just can't cook in the kitchen." I slapped his arm for the bad joke, but bruised my fingers instead. His biceps were still as hard as steel. I spent a few minutes enjoying the feel of his hard body and soft lips.

Leaning back in his arms, I sighed. "I should be thankful, they got me so angry it brought me out of my funk," I said.

"Well, then, I'm grateful to them, too. You look wonderful and I'm just glad you're smiling again. Steph, can we spend this evening together? I'll bring dinner, your choice." I couldn't say no to those irresistible lips or that charming Texas drawl.

I grinned, "Pino's meatball subs? Extra sauce." Michael shook his head, but laughed. "I shoulda known."

I continued, "I have a late meeting with the volunteers, but I should be done by 6:30." Reality wasn't such a bad way to live.