Chapter Three

Stephanie

You know you're deep in a funk when not even The Property Brothers can pull you out of it. I poked around my half-empty cake tin with my fork. I contemplated the frosting-covered tines in front of my face, and then tossed the fork back into the plastic tin and set the whole thing aside.

Scratch that - you know you're in a deep funk when not even Boston Cream cake with rich chocolate ganache can pull you out of it. I blamed Duncan Hines. The man, not the cake mix. I'd been having a perfectly lovely day, until there was a possibility that it might be my last. Funny how that realization could really make you second-guess yourself. Connie had dropped me at my parents' house to pick up Big Blue and I'd decided to stay for dinner. I made an effort to soak in the comfortable normalcy of pot roast and mashed potatoes with the drone of the television in the background. The simple pleasures. And sure, some say that's what life is all about, but where do simple pleasures leave you at the end of the day?

As it turned out, it left you home alone on your comfy couch, with your comfort television show and your comfort desert. None of which were comforting enough to balance out the alone part.

I couldn't stop thinking about Lula's life philosophy. It made sense, and yet I was still having trouble bringing myself to terms with doing anything about it. I'd never gotten around to making a bucket list. Sure, there were things I liked to think I'd do in the future, in that hazy 'someday' that hung perpetually over the horizon. Things like take a tropical vacation, move out of my less-than-desirable apartment, upgrade my wardrobe, get a tattoo. Improve my relationship with my sister. Fall in love, and stay that way. Heck, if I'm going all in, maybe I'd finally even start some retirement savings.

None of those things seemed entirely feasible to accomplish in one night. Okay, maybe the tattoo, but that wasn't the top of my priority list.

If I only had one night left, what was my top priority? I knew the answer, but I'd been hoping that the Boston Cream cake would be a sufficient bribe to convince my mind to change. As of yet, no such luck.

I clicked off the television. It wasn't doing its job, anyway. My mind had been on a single track all day, and Ranger's damn parting question wasn't helping matters. What happened to the silent nod? The simple 'Babe'? Even the grab-and-kiss? All had served as acceptable send-offs over the years. Where had this 'See you later?' come from? What the heck was that supposed to mean?

Maybe that was Ranger-speak for 'Come see me later'. Or, equally likely, it was Ranger-speak for 'I have a job for you.' Also conceivably it could mean 'I'm going in the wind, and there's no telling when I'll be back.'

I glared at the sad, half-eaten Boston Cream cake. The cake was supposed to be all I needed to tip the scales back in the direction of a good day. "You suck at this," I told it.

Then I rolled my eyes at myself. No way was I going to spend my last day on earth talking to myself and resenting baked goods. That decision made, I flung myself up off the couch. Not giving myself any time to change my mind, I shoved my feet into a pair of sneakers and grabbed my purse and jacket off the back of the dining chair. With a bracing breath, I wrenched the door open and rushed out - only I didn't get very far.

I met resistance, felt hands on my shoulders, and my eyes flashed up to the face of my capturer. I registered that it was Ranger, and my hand quit scrambling in my bag for my defense spray.

"I was just going to see you," I blurted.

I watched as Ranger's shoulders lifted with the same sort of deep breath I'd just used to steel myself. That simple movement made my heart try to climb into my throat while all the butterflies roiling in the pit of my stomach took flight.

"Hines' prediction is bullshit." Ranger's voice was so low that I could barely hear him over the blood rushing through my head.

"I know," I said. I was even 90% convinced that was true.

He took one tiny step toward me. "But just in case…"

I couldn't help but grin as I used my grip on him to pull him closer, and then closer still while I stepped back into my apartment and he nudged the door closed behind us. Any doubts I may have had about his intentions melted away under the intensity of his gaze. I dropped my bag and coat to the floor and set about doing the same for Ranger. He gripped my hips possessively while I hastily unzipped his jacket and my hands dove underneath, relishing his body heat.

He dropped his forehead to mine, and his jaw tightened while my hands reached the small of his back. They ran up and over his shoulders, pushing his jacket off. His hand mimicked my own, skating up my back until his fingers splayed between my shoulder blades. He used his other hand at the back of my neck to draw me in for a blistering kiss.

I poured all of my frustration and uncertainty and other, scarier emotions into that kiss. Ranger had a lot to contribute too, and by the time we broke apart, I was trapped between the kitchen counter and his hard body. Both of my wrists were captured and pinned at my sides, and Ranger was leaning over me with our chests pressed together. One freaking kiss already had me wound so tightly that I was hyper-aware of my breasts brushing against him with every breath I took.

He ducked his head to press his lips to the side of my jaw, then dragged them down my neck, tracing the v-neck of my shirt. His breathing was nearly ragged, so I didn't bother being embarrassed that he could surely feel my pulse skyrocketing. He worked his way back up the other side and gently nipped my earlobe. "I needed to see you."

The vibration of his voice sent shivers down my spine. "Me too."

I pulled against the restraint of his hands around my wrists, and he immediately released me. A brief flash of surprise told me that he probably hadn't realized he'd captured me, which wouldn't be a first. Ranger had a thing for control, and it manifested in more ways than one. I put my newfound freedom of motion to good use, pushing briefly against his chest so he backed up. My fingers burrowed under his long-sleeved t-shirt, rucking it up and finally pulling it over his head. He escaped the sleeves and his mouth was on mine again before the shirt even hit the floor.

Just for fun, though, I resisted. I pulled back against the pressure of his hand on my neck at the same time that my fingertips dipped below his waistband and I curled my hand over the top of his cargoes. He released my mouth and drew back to meet my eyes. Whatever he saw there wiped away his half-a-heartbeat's worth of hesitation. "What do you want, babe?"

"Let me show you," I whispered. And I used my grip on him to walk us backwards toward the bedroom. He followed patiently for a few steps, and I enjoyed the heady sensation of taking the lead. When he moved in for another kiss, I drew back again, just out of reach. He made an exasperated sound low in his throat, but he still waited for my next cue.

This was fun. Just in case tonight was really my last chance, I'd decided to make it count. We'd nearly made it to the threshold of the bedroom, and I used my grip on him to back him against the wall. I leaned into him and brushed my lips against his in a chaste kiss. His hand was low on my back, urging me closer. I allowed it, because his body wasn't the only one demanding more friction. He wet his lips, and I rewarded him with another quick kiss. He tried to pull me back for more at the same time that his hand slipped under the hem of my t-shirt.

"Uh-uh," I told him, grabbing his wrist. "I'm not done."

"I'm not anywhere near done," he assured me. He made a half-hearted effort to break my grip, but I stepped back, nearly out of reach. I kept my palm on his chest as a warning to stay put, and he listened. At least for the moment.

My body protested the loss of his heat, but the view was worth it. Shirtless, breathing heavy, and looking at me like I was his favorite kind of dessert. A line of fine, dark hair trailed from his navel and disappeared into his half-open cargoes. His erection strained against the material.

He twitched when I dragged my palm down his chest, and when my fingers reached his stomach, he sucked in a breath. I traced one finger along the line of his waistband before I dipped inside and wrapped my hand around him. I palmed his shaft while my thumb ran along the underside and then up over the head. His breath caught in his throat, and I reveled in that sound.

That was also the moment that Ranger decided I'd had my fun and it was his turn. The world spun around me, and suddenly my back was to the wall. His foot kicked my legs further apart and he used his grip on my hips to help us both achieve the friction we craved. Once he had me successfully pinned between the wall and his body, he whisked my shirt up and over my head in one smooth motion. The displaced air cooled my skin, already dampened with sweat.

I experimentally rocked my hips against his and whimpered as his hardness settled right where I needed him. I rocked again and we both moaned. Even through our clothes, he already had my nerve endings firing, sending flutters through my belly.

His tongue claimed mine in hot, possessive sweeps until my knees were so weak that the press of his body against mine was the only force keeping me upright. My game of control was forgotten, and I was more than happy to be putty in his very capable hands. My arms around his neck gave me leverage while I bucked my hips insistently, needing more.

He yanked the cups of my bra down so my breasts spilled out. The straps dug into my shoulders a little, but before I had a chance to complain, his tongue was circling my nipple and nothing else mattered. When he scraped it gently with his teeth, I made an embarrassing noise in the back of my throat and pulled on his hair until he looked up at me.

"Please," I begged. I wasn't quite sure what I was asking for, but was confident he'd figure it out.

He straightened away from the wall and probably I would've melted right into a puddle if he hadn't already had his hands at the backs of my thighs, ready to hoist me up. I gave a little hop to help him and wrapped my legs around his waist, clinging to him while he carried me the last few paces to the bedroom.

###

A warm tickling sensation spread from my ear, sent tingles up to my scalp and down my neck, and erupted in goosebumps all along my arms. I couldn't resist a contented sigh while I snuggled deeper into the solid presence at my back. Ranger's breath was steady, in and out, and I almost let the rhythm lull me back to sleep. Warm. Safe. Cozy. Loved.

"Babe."

Temporary.

His whisper woke me more effectively than a cold shower. I knew that whisper. In this bed, at this hour, it meant that time was up. I craned my neck to see the digital clock on the nightstand. Yep - right on cue. On the bright side, the world didn't seem to have ended.

I wriggled over onto my other side, facing Ranger. I buried my nose in the neck of his t-shirt and ignored my disappointment that he was already dressed. "Off to save the world?"

"The world seems to have done just fine on its own." His hand slid up under the hem of my tank top and he traced my spine with a feather-light touch.

"Fancy that," I said. "Does that mean Batman gets the day off?"

His fingers stilled, halting the pattern he'd been drawing over my bare skin. I could practically feel him contemplating that idea. The stillness grew stifling for a few seconds before he tilted his chin to press his lips to my temple.

I gave him another thirty seconds, but when it became clear that he wasn't planning to answer the question, I did what I do best. I pushed. "You are familiar with the concept of a day off, right? No work. No clients. No stress."

Ranger didn't respond, but his fingers had resumed lazily tracing shapes over my lower back. The space of another thirty seconds passed, and then he released a breath. His admission was so quiet I almost didn't hear him. "I wouldn't know what to do."

"Just stick with me," I assured him. "I'll make you a fully-qualified man of leisure in no time."

His hand retreated, and he gave my hip one last squeeze before releasing me altogether. "I have to go."

He started to pull away, pausing when he realized my fingers were gripping his t-shirt. I realized it at the same time and let go. I rolled up to a sitting position, keeping the covers pulled up to my chin, hugging myself to ward off the sudden chill. I leaned my cheek against my knee and studied his back while he pulled on his boots.

"You're right," I told him. I was afraid some of my melancholy was seeping into my voice, so I pasted on a smile. "I guess man of leisure isn't really your style."

Ranger paused in the threshold and leaned a shoulder against the door jam. "Probably not."

"That's okay," I said. "We can still be friends anyway."

I expected that to earn me a smile, or at least an almost-smile. Instead, he frowned. Then he strode back over to the bed and leaned over me, cupping my cheek with one hand and holding me in his gaze. "Maybe you can teach me. Someday."

I swallowed past an inexplicable lump in my throat and concentrated on keeping my smile from wavering. The best I managed was a nod. But that was okay, because after one last peck on the lips, Ranger was gone.

###

Given that the world was still turning, I convinced myself to get my butt up and moving. My hair was bouncy, my lashes were double-coated with mascara, and my stun gun was charged. I was a woman on a mission.

Lula had decided to leave the mission to me. "On account of my man is treating me to breakfast," she'd said.

I decided that I didn't need a man to treat me to breakfast. Being a strong, independent woman, I treated myself. Tasty Pastry was twenty minutes in the opposite direction of Pinnacle Place, so I made an executive decision to throw in a stop at the office. In addition to being a strong, independent, woman on a mission, I was also all about efficiency.

My belly was full but my confidence was medium-low when I anchored Big Blue in front of Duncan Hines' apartment building. Connie had confirmed that he was still the only outstanding FTA on file. My options for the day were either to go after Hines or to be a couch potato. After the episode with Ranger this morning, the latter option sounded a little too close to wallowing for my comfort - so Hines it was.

I grabbed the now-empty donut box off the front seat and set off with purpose for the door, ignoring the brutal cold. I hit the buzzer and waited for the pleasant voice to greet me. "Pinnacle Place, how can I help you?"

"Hi. I've got a Dasher delivery for Arturo in 610," I said, using the name I'd clocked on the mailbox next to Hines' when we were in the building yesterday.

"Thanks," the voice said. Some clicking noises followed, and I rushed to pull open the unlocked door. I gave a smile to the guy manning the lobby desk and saluted him with my donut box while I made my way to the elevators.

I double-checked my stun gun during the elevator ride and reminded myself that Hines wasn't scary, so it was okay that I was bringing him in by myself. I was a strong, independent, efficient woman on a mission who didn't need no Rangeman - or Lula - to help me do my job. When I reached Hines' door, I set my shoulders and gave a firm knock.

The door swung open.

I looked behind me and down the hallway, as if I expected someone to come bearing an explanation. Then I poked my head into the apartment. "Hello? Mr. Hines?"

I took a tentative step over the threshold. It didn't look like Hines had been burgled. Surely the guy in the lobby wouldn't stand for such an affront. There was a tidy kitchen with sprawling stone countertops on the left, and a living room with a brown sectional couch facing a huge TV mounted on the wall to the right. Hines was nowhere to be seen.

"Mr. Hines?" I called again, stepping further into his space. "It's Stephanie Plum. I'm here to take you to get that new court date."

Being in his space felt a little intrusive. Which was silly, because I'd done my fair share of breaking and entering. Probably it had something to do with the fact that Pinnacle Place was several steps above the places I was used to B&Eing. Hines' television probably cost more than three months' rent on my apartment. I was oddly hesitant to head into any of the three doorways I could see; if I hadn't been double-checking the kitchen to make sure Hines wasn't hiding behind the knife block, then I probably would've missed the envelope. It blended in with the white counters, but it read 'Lulu and Steffie'. Close enough.

I opened the envelope and unfolded a half-sheet of paper. Hines' note was short and sweet - Turns out I was wrong. My calculations must have been off again. I'll fix it, but I don't really care about the date anymore. Every time I've thought the end was near, I've had the best time of my life. From now on, I'm going to pretend that every day is the eve of doom. When the clock kept ticking this morning, I bought a ticket to Tahiti. I've always wanted to live in the islands. Sorry. Tell Vinnie he can keep my car. I won't need it down there.

I finished reading the note. Flipped it over to double-check that there was nothing on the back. Then flipped it over again and stared at it until the words started to blur. My vision went a little red at the edges. I yanked my phone out of my pocket and punched Lula's contact on my speed dial. Every ring was like nails on a chalkboard, ratcheting up my annoyance. She finally answered on the fourth one.

"Hines took off!" I announced. "He's gone!"

"Like to the store, or…," Lula asked.

"To freakin' Tahiti!"

"Huhn. Guess he ain't our problem now."

"How could he do this?" I demanded. "The rat bastard just up and moved away. To 'the islands'."

Silence on the other end of the line for a moment, and then Lula's tone was cautious. "You seem awfully worked up over this. What, you wanted to date him or something?"

"What? No! No way!"

"He was pretty cute."

"Of course I didn't want to date him," I scoffed.

"Then why you so upset?" she asked. "He was worth, what, like a hundred bucks?"

"$150," I argued. "But it's not about the money. It's the principle! It's rude!"

"Generally speaking, a lot of these folks we go after aren't gifted in the principles department."

"Hines was different," I argued. "He wasn't a thief or a stabber or a freaking grave robber. He had a steady job, and he really only had the one little incident."

"Only his incident wasn't an accident," Lula mumbled.

"He had a bad day. Everyone has bad days. But you're supposed to just suck it up and try again the next day, not move to the freaking islands!"

"Maybe Hines already had enough of tryin' again. Personally, I think he said that pretty clear when he peed all over his work stuff."

"What would his mother say?" I yelled. My arms were flapping now. "I bet that Mrs. Hines' best friend's son didn't smash his computer to bits and pee on it! And I sure as hell bet that the guy who grew up down the street from Hines didn't abandon all of his problems and move to Tahiti!"

Lula was quiet on the line. My face felt hot. Hines' note was crinkled and a little damp where I'd clenched it in my fist. My breathing was loud, and the rhythm was slowly bringing me down from my high, allowing logical thought to permeate the haze of my indignation.

If I hadn't already been deep in the midst of an existential crisis - and that was questionable - then that outburst put me squarely over the line. That sobering thought allowed me to start to reel myself back in a little.

Lula broke the silence in a moment of revelation. "I just figured out who you sound like! You sound just like -"

"Don't say it," I begged.

"Huhn." Lula gave me another minute before she prompted me. "Hey, you okay?"

I set Hines' note back on the counter where I'd found it and carefully smoothed out the wrinkles while I considered my answer. "I'm not sure."

"You need anything?" she asked. "How 'bout some pancakes and bacon? Schmidty's had some real nice bacon today, real crispy and greasy. We're not more than five minutes - hey, Tankie, turn around - we gotta go back and get Stephanie some bacon."

"No, I'm good," I said. "I think. Or, I will be."

"You definitely need bacon. I got a sense for these things," Lula insisted. "Where are you? Can we meet you at your place in a half hour?"

I sighed, sensing the inevitable. Truth be told, I was off my game, and between the donuts and the coffee I was feeling all jittery. Maybe some bacon would help take the edge off. "The bonds office will be closer for both of us," I told her. "I'll meet you there."

I had some time to kill, since it would take Lula some time to get back to Schmidty's, get the bacon, and then get to the office. So after I waved good-bye to the guy at the reception desk, I spent some time in my on-the-go thinking position: behind the wheel of my car, nose to the horn. My eyes drifted closed, although I was too wired to be worried about falling asleep. I'd had a double-dose of caffeine this morning, given my late-night activities that had kept me up.

I squirmed in my seat at the flashback, and promptly shoved that memory to the back of my mind. There were too many emotions already roiling around in my gut; I didn't want to add arousal to the list.

With the space of time and emotional distance, I could recognize the feelings that overcame me when I read Hines' note. There had been a little disbelief, sure, because it seemed impossible for someone from Hamilton Township to just up and move to Tahiti. That was the stuff of movies and fairytales. That wasn't real life. Real people didn't just pick up their whole life and skip off to the islands.

Except, apparently, Duncan Hines. Based on the condition he'd been in when Lula and I found him yesterday, he wasn't shy about livin' it up when he thought the end of the world was nigh. He'd had lots of practice, apparently, but still - I was shocked that he pulled the figurative trigger. He'd always wanted to live in the islands, and so he made it happen.

So, disbelief, sure. But the overarching emotion I'd felt, the one that set my skin on fire and made me see red, was jealousy. Jealous of what, I was still figuring out.

Then again, maybe that was it. I toyed with that idea, and it seemed like it fit. Hines had taken action, and I was still stuck here trying to figure my shit out. Not in Tahiti, living my best life.

He'd decided what he wanted, and he went for it. To hell with his job - he'd already given them what-for - and to hell with other peoples' expectations. He got his sights set on Tahiti, and there was no stopping him. I was envious of that.

I turned my head so my cheek was against the steering wheel and I was gazing out the side window at the front of the apartment complex. It wasn't a matter of money, I decided. Although my credit card would work up a sweat, I could probably swing a flight to Tahiti. But even that idea didn't make me feel much better.

It wasn't Tahiti that I was jealous of, I decided. Sure, a trip to an island somewhere was on the bucket list, but that wasn't my end-of-the-world must-do. I'd made that decision last night, and it wasn't the vacation or the tattoo or the retirement savings. It was the love thing.

My envy of Hines was responsible for the burning sensation in my chest and the rage that had taken me over back in his apartment. But before that, from the moment I'd woken up this morning, I'd had something like a leaden weight sitting in the pit of my stomach. It had landed with a thud as soon as I'd heard that 'Babe' that told me Ranger was awake. And that he was leaving.

I heaved a sigh with a little groan on the end of it. Apparently that Psych 101 class I'd taken in college had made an impact, because all this psychoanalysis seemed to be working. The good news was that I was pretty sure I knew what I had to do to get rid of that weight in my belly. But that was also the bad news.