All familiar characters and events belong to Janet. The mistakes and the snark are all me.
"She really is made up entirely of putrescent whole-whore solids, isn't she?" I asked Ranger, swapping out my already-empty coffee cup with his still-full to-go cup.
We have a busy afternoon ahead of us, but watching Joyce try to land herself another wallet … I mean boyfriend, was too good a show to pass up watching.
"She's definitely part something sub-human," he agreed.
I rolled my eyes at how her two-inch-long claw traced a line up the buttons on her victim's dress shirt. Her game must be off because she couldn't even make her eyeliner-caked eyes look less dead as she gave the geek-diator a giggle that sounded appropriately like a cat in heat.
"Tell me the truth," I said, looking up at Batman, "would that crap work on you?"
"No. One because I view my body as a temple and I wouldn't let something as corrosive as that anywhere near me …"
Just to be a smartass, I ran my fingertip down the muscles hidden under his T-shirt. "And the second thing you were going to say?"
His hand covered mine where it was slow to leave his body, and he sandwiched my hand tightly between his and his chest.
"And two," he whispered against my ear, causing goosebumps to form along every inch of my skin, "there's nothing you have to do to have me wanting to be balls-deep inside you again. It's an I want you naked 24/7 disorder I'm not in any hurry to correct. You don't need a game or a plan to make me - and everything I have - yours, just being you does it for me."
All thoughts of Joyce and her seeping skankiness disappeared, and it suddenly felt like it was just me and Ranger in the bakery. I went right up on the steel toes of my CAT boots and kissed him. I think I'd intended to give him a quick kiss of appreciation for always making me feel loved, but Ranger never half-asses a moment between us. I only remembered that we're in a public place when I felt the tip of a car key jab me, pretty rudely I might add, in the back.
"And people call me a slut," Joyce said with a bored tone, though she wouldn't have interrupted us if she doesn't care what I do.
When I broke the suction I had going with Ranger's mouth, I did a quick scan of the bakery. The potential 'Mr. Joyce Barnhardt' is nowhere to be seen. Instead of quietly leaving with just her tail being the only thing between her legs, she likely sensed my presence and thought she'd boost her deflated ego by attacking me after losing a chance at a bigger Ho-home.
"People call you a slut because they know you and have no problem calling a spade a spade, or a skank a skank in your case. I was kissing the guy I'm in love with, you were 'fingering' a random stranger who I'd guess has an expensive car you spotted as you were driving by and sharpening your freshly-bleached fangs."
"Meeting new people is better than planting your ass in one spot and getting fat on doughnuts," she tried.
I looked at mine and Ranger's hands in an obnoxiously-obvious way. "I don't see any doughnuts in my hands. Are you hiding any under all those muscles, Ranger?"
"No, but it wouldn't matter if you had just inhaled a box of them. I have more than twelve hours worth of ways to work off any doughnut calories you may consume, Babe."
I smiled sweetly at Joyce. "See? I have Ranger to make sure I don't get fat … who do you have around to make sure your ass doesn't get as big as your over-injected lips?"
"Bite me."
"No thanks. I don't want to catch anything. Lula did share with Connie the other day that there's a Desperate Douchebag dating site out there. Maybe you should consider signing up."
"Sounds like someone's still jealous that I stole her husband."
"If you managed to steal a guy I didn't even want, where is he? You know, I'm actually a little sad that you and the Dick didn't last. I've never seen two selfish assholes who deserve each other more. Of course, that'd leave Vinnie out of the sex loop, which would put a serious dent in your income … so I guess that'd make you more of a whore than a slut, since your paycheck hinges on you putting out."
"Go to hell, Plum."
I shrugged just to annoy her. "I already lived and escaped it." I let my eyes wander all over Ranger again, for my own benefit not to stick it to Joyce. "I've moved onto bigger and better things. Good luck with tricking another guy into believing you're not just trading sex for his ATM card."
"At least men think what I do deserves to be paid for."
"That's one twisted way of looking at it. If you still had a soul, that statement would've likely killed it. It almost makes me feel sorry for you. Almost."
"Some things and some people are priceless," Ranger added. "I would give Stephanie whatever she wanted no matter the cost … have tried on multiple occasions to, but she knows she's worthy of more than cheap sheets and a cash payout in lieu of a goodbye. It's a pity that someone half the woman Stephanie is, never learned that lesson. Your parents failed on many fronts."
I looked up at him. "Keep saying things like that, and I may start paying you."
He bent his head and pressed his lips briefly to my mouth again. "No price, Babe. Remember?" He said against me.
"I do," I said, thinking that kiss was too short. "Like I said, Joyce, I'm kissing my forever-guy. But unlike you, I don't need to get married to prove that Ranger chose me over somebody I've always been jealous of, or to get access to his credit cards. Weirdly enough, Ranger still wants us court-certified when I'm ready to put my name on a marriage license."
If she were a snake, her enhanced-ass would be rattling a warning right now. As I knew it would, the thought of me … Stupid Stephanie – who could never do anything right - Plum, married to Trenton's most eligible Superhero, would infuriate a professional gold digger such as herself.
"It's pathetic that you have to lie just to try to compete with me, Plum. I can clearly see that you're not wearing a ring."
"Are you really so dumb you didn't catch the part where I said 'when I'm ready'? I didn't need a ring when Ranger clued me in on his marriage goal, and I'll repeat that I don't need one even when I officially become Mrs. Manoso."
"But you're getting one regardless," Ranger reminded me. "We've discussed this, Steph. You're going to be stuck wearing one from the moment I slide a ring, and then another, onto your finger. I agreed not to push for a date, but I'm not compromising on the rings. We're both going to be wearing them."
I grinned at how traditional he actually is despite him stating that he isn't. "Yes, Sir. And to soothe any feathers I may have accidentally just ruffled, I promise I'll accept and wear your ring with zero arguing whenever you decide to give me one."
He laced his fingers through mine and turned towards the door, all of a sudden oblivious to Joyce and the rest of the people in Tasty Pastry watching the drama unfold. "Let's go. I'm not giving you time to change your mind about what you just said."
My mouth dropped open. Ranger is an opportunist in general, but I wasn't expecting him to say that. Wanting to see what he's up to now, I glanced back over my shoulder before we'd reached the door.
"Bye, Joyce. As always, it wasn't a pleasure bumping into you."
"Like hell you're leaving. I wanna see you crushed when you realize that he's only trying to 'save' you from me again."
The skank stayed right on our heels, and I felt an old but familiar twinge of insecurity that she could be right. Ranger would try to extricate me from any situation he felt was uncomfortable or unpleasant for me. But as soon as I'd had that thought, I waved it off. I know better now. Ranger wouldn't lie. He'd just tell Joyce to 'Fuck Off' or sling me over his shoulder and walk out of the bakery, not caring who was watching. His strength is sometimes frustrating, but also helpful in case I ever sprain an ankle or break a leg, since he can haul me around like I weigh less than a freshly-baked loaf of bread.
He beeped his huge F-150 unlocked, but before I could move, he opened the passenger's side door, sat me on the edge of the seat facing him, and moved to stand between my legs to get closer to me but also to the glove compartment.
Ranger palmed the ring box, flipped it open with his thumb, and had his ring secured on my finger in one dizzying move. "I'm not asking you to marry me, Babe, we've already decided that you are. Instead, with this ring ... I'm asking for the date we're going to go through with it."
I was confused, stunned, and then really annoyed when Joyce reached between us and yanked my left arm across my body so abruptly, I was worried I'd need to stop at the ER courtesy of a dislocated shoulder. She made a move like she was sniff-scanning my ring, but before I could question her rat-like behavior, she dropped my hand and backed away like I'd finally managed to send a few volts of electricity into her.
"Holy shit!" She said in a reverent half-shriek. "That's a four-and-a-half carat, brilliant-cut oval diamond, with an additional full-fucking-carat's worth of diamonds on the band and under the big one. You could buy yourself a house if you hawk that ring."
Joyce isn't good for much, but I know she can price an item at a hundred paces. I did my own ring-to-nose move, studying the apparent fortune sitting on my ring finger.
"Don't say that," I ordered her. "I said not to go overboard when the time came, so they're man-made diamonds or just really pretty crystals. Right, Ranger?"
"I know my engagement rings," Barnbitch bragged. "And you're wearing almost two-hundred-thousand dollars right now."
I could feel all the blood in my body try to jump ship. "I can't wear this," I whispered to Ranger.
"You can and you will. You promised."
Crap, I actually did just promise him that. Ranger's grin had me knowing there isn't a damn thing I can do about what he picked out ... except accept it. I should have known it would be ethically sourced, beautifully made, and freakin' huge!
"Better start praying that you don't get killed on Stark Street for wearing that," Joyce said, as she turned to leave.
"Better up the size of your boobs and lips again," I yelled after her, "and then maybe you have a shot at some romantically-desperate idiot buying you something even a fraction as incredible as this!"
She raised a red talon, the one located in the middle of her hand, as she hoofed it back to the car she got from the accountant she'd fleeced last year before he decided life was way easier with his wife and three kids.
"Well?" Ranger said, bringing the moment back to us where it belonged.
"Well … what?"
"A date."
"Sure, where would you like to go out tonight?" I teased.
"Stephanie …"
"I'm kidding. Since you seem to be so sure about this - about us - and I've never questioned your instincts, how about we just get married Thursday?"
"Two days from now?" He clarified.
"Yup. I've waited over thirty years for you, there's really no sane reason to waste any more of my life. I'm going to take a page out of your book and just go after what I want ... and not freak out once I get it."