All recognizable characters belong to Janet Evanovich, I'm just playing.

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Chapter 4

SPOV

My head feels jumbled and there's a consistent beeping noise that I recognize all too well. Fighting the urge to sink back down into nothing, I take stock of what I can deduce before I open my eyes. My left arm is sore, and my left hand is immobile. My right side feels tender and sore, and my head hurts. Those all make sense. What doesn't make sense is how heavy my right arm feels, like something is pinning it down. I don't remember being hurt there.

Doing a quick recap of what I remember—going after Joey Fingers, saving the girl, everyone looking disappointed, talking to the guys at Rangeman while looking for Ranger, seeing my grandpa—nothing involved my right arm getting hurt. Shit. Do I want to know?

My thoughts are getting clearer, so I'm likely awake-ish and am going to have to open my eyes at some point. My eyelids feel like they're glued together but I finally get some blinking going, and immediately wince at the bright light. Once I can keep them open, I'm greeted with bland whites and greys. You'd think they'd at least attempt to make hospitals a little more cheerful.

The heaviness on my right arm is still there and I take a wary look, not knowing what to expect. I would pinch myself, but my left hand is entombed in gauze and Ranger is holding my right hand with his head resting on my arm. I can't see much of him, but the gentle and steady rise and fall of his torso tells me that he's asleep. It's rare that he lets his guard down like this and I remain frozen, unwilling to wake him up.

I'm still reviewing what I remember when the door to my room silently opens, and Bobby peeks his head in. His first glance is for Ranger; that Bobby's first thought is to check on him makes me nervous to know how long I've been here.

Seemingly satisfied that Ranger is resting, he raises his eyes to me. There is a moment of stunned silence before a smile, a real smile, takes hold and he rushes forward. His reaction seems out of place with him so mad at me. He gives my shoulder a squeeze before stepping back and speaking to Ranger in a steady cadence from the opposite side of the bed. "Ranger, man. Wake-up! You gotta see this!"

He's careful to stay just out of Ranger's reach, making me wonder about the mood he'll be in when he wakes up. Is he still mad at me? Ranger is instantly alert, glaring at Bobby until Bobby points to me. Ranger turns his face to me and I'm utterly unprepared for what I see. He looks…horrible. His hair is matted in places and sticking out in others. Several days of beard growth covers his pale skin and his eyes show just how tired he is. His blank face slips away and for a moment he lets me see anguish and relief before he drops his head back down on my hand.

Bobby averts his eyes to check the cardiac machine next to me. I should be looking away, too, but I'm transfixed by the movement of Ranger's shoulders as he takes deep breaths to get himself under control. His fingers find mine, and I squeeze his hand after he entwines them together. His reaction scares me, making me wonder what's wrong with me. Ranger is always so stoic and strong; him showing weakness and allowing me to see it is a level of intimacy that we've never shared.

Movement to my left has me looking to the side and Bobby points to the door before flashing me five fingers. I take it to mean that he's stepping out for a couple minutes to give Ranger some privacy, and I appreciate it. The door closes slowly behind him, and I wait for awkwardness to settle between us, but it never does.

After a minute or two, he takes a deep breath before lifting his head. The anguish is gone, but he hasn't replaced it with a blank face, either. Instead, he flashes me a smile that reaches his eyes before kissing my hand, punctuating it with, "Babe."

I untangle our hands and run a couple fingers over his scruff. He stills for a minute before leaning his head into my touch, closing his eyes. "How long have I been here?"

His voice is rough when he answers. "Four days, Babe. You've been unconscious for four days."

That can't be right. I mean, I know I went to the hospital and then Rangeman. I didn't have much time with Papa, but time isn't adding up. "Where else did I go?"

"Babe?"

"I went to the hospital for stitches, then Rangeman, and then I visited my grandparents' house. But that doesn't take four days, so where else did I go? I hate when I lose time. Oh my God! The little girl! Is she ok?"

"She's fine. A couple bruises on her wrists. Bobby checked her out at the scene."

My breath hitches and then evens out. "She reminded me so much of Julie that it threw me for a second. All I could see was…" I puff out a breath, not able to voice the image that lives in my head: him, bleeding out on my floor while Scrog stands over him. The nightmares are less frequent, but even after I wake, the sound of the six shots that nearly killed him stay with me. "I just knew I had to save her."

Ranger's serious eyes take me in, but he doesn't say anything.

The more I think about it, the weirder it is. How could I go to Papa and Gramma's house? Gramma lived there for a couple more years after Papa passed, but Dad sold the house not long after her funeral. Well, shit. That's not good. There's only one way I could have seen and talked to Papa. Between that and Ranger's disheveled state, something must have happened after I left Rangeman.

I'm interrupted from asking questions by Bobby's quick knock on the door, shortly followed by his entrance. He stands at the end of the bed in parade rest. "Bomber, is it ok if I take a look at your chart?"

That confuses me; when has anyone ever asked permission to delve into my private life? "Sure. When can I get out of here?"

Bobby's lip's quirk but Ranger's thumb running along my arm distracts me. "The doctor will probably want to keep you at least a couple days. You gave us quite a scare."

I wince at that. "Sorry."

Bobby puts the chart back at the end of the bed. "Don't be sorry. You saved that little girl! We're all prouder than hell of what you did."

Confusion must have shown on my face, because he comes around to the side of the bed, gently holding a couple of my fingertips where they extend above of the gauze on my left hand. He leans down close, quickly and gently touching his forehead to mine before backing up a bit so I can see him. "I'm sorry, Bomber."

"For what?"

"Making a snap judgement instead of asking what happened. For not looking closer and realizing how bad the wound on your side was. For not going with you on the ambulance or making sure someone else did. I dropped the ball."

"You were busy."

He shakes his head. "Don't cut me any slack, Bomber. My mistakes could have cost you your life if you had been further away from a hospital. You nearly bled out from a wound I didn't properly triage."

"Pretty sure the paramedic was right there checking it while you were taking care of my hand."

"Doesn't matter. I'll do better next time."

A humorless chuckle escapes me, making my side hurt. "Can we skip next time? Turns out, getting stabbed hurts. Maybe one of you guys can teach me how to deflect a knife?"

Both men suck in a breath. I didn't even know I was going to make the request, but I swear I feel Papa tap the end of my nose.

Bobby clears his throat. "I can do that." He drops his head down closer to my ear. "Try and make him rest. He's been a drowning man without a life raft. He needs you, Steph."

He backs away, nodding at Ranger before he leaves. Life raft. Something about that strikes a chord in me, but the answer feels just out of reach. There's a heavy rap on the door and Tank, Lester and Cal let themselves in. Through the gap of the door, I can see Hal and he gives me a smile and a thumbs up. Seriously, I swear they were all pissed at me.

"Beautiful! You're a sight for sore eyes."

My energy is fading, but I smile through my confusion. "I thought you guys were mad at me."

Les' smile dims a bit. "We were scared when we heard you went after Joey Fingers by yourself, but we should know by now you always get your man!"

"No, really. When I went to Rangeman you were all really mad at me. You even said that Ranger was in too bad of a mood to talk to me. I remember it!"

Tank looks at me. "When did you go to Rangeman?"

"After I left in the ambulance, I went to Rangeman. It was mostly empty, but I talked to you guys. You were mad at me and then I got mad, and I left. I went…" My voice trails off, confusion clouding my thoughts. "I went to my grandparents' house. Didn't I?"

"Babe, you coded in the ambulance and were taken up to surgery almost immediately. You were in the ICU for thirty hours before being transferred to this room."

Lester leans against my bed. "Must have been a dream, Beautiful. I knew it! You dream about me. Admit it!"

His joke gets the intended reaction, and my laugh is nearly drowned out by the smack to the head he gets from Tank. Ranger shakes his head and looks at me. "I think Tia Maria dropped him on his head as a baby. Ignore him."

I don't miss the look Tank and Cal share behind Lester's back. Ranger rarely mentions his family, and certainly not in passing. A dream? Being at Rangeman felt so real, but so did the hug from my grandfather. I'm so confused.

They all stay for a few more minutes, each one taking a moment to squeeze my toes with a smile before they leave. Once we're alone, I feel the weight of Ranger's attention. "So, Joey Fingers got away. Is that offer for some hours on the search desk still open? A girl's gotta eat." It's a pathetic attempt at humor, but the shadows around his eyes are like little stabs to the heart, knowing he's been neglecting sleep because of me. Again.

Ranger twines his fingers around those of my good right hand. "You had Fratelli and only lost him because you saved the girl. He was still wearing your cuffs when Cal and Hal tracked him down trying to get into his house. The money's in your account."

"The money should go to Rangeman; it was your skip, anyway." Ranger shaking his head hooks my anger. "I don't want your pity!"

"Not pity, Babe. You tracked him down and had him cuffed with no help from us. Your capture, your money. But yes, we still need some help with searches. Tank and Rodriguez would love it if you considered making even a part-time job a permanent thing."

It's on the tip of my tongue to turn him down; sitting at a desk forty hours a week would drive me nuts. If I'm honest, I enjoy the digging, even if it's an ass-numbing task. Half-time might not be so bad. It comes with the bonus of being a regular paycheck, meaning Rex can stay comfortably full of carrots and crunchies. I'd be a horrible hamster mommy for not even considering it. "Would I have to meet all the requirements to pass the physical tests like the guys? I know I need to learn to do things a little differently but running ten miles at 5am is not high on my wish list."

He stills for a minute, probably surprised that I'm even willing to think about the job. I can tell he's choosing his words carefully. "You would need to meet the requirements if you came onboard as a fulltime employee that worked in the field. Those that are strictly office staff are encouraged to engage in training, but it's not a requirement. You would keep the benefits that you already have, no matter what you decide. The offer of training from me, or any of the guys, is always there, regardless of your employment status."

Some things cannot be helped, but many things can. Why leave what can be helped up to fate? Papa's words cause a tingle in my chest. He said I always knew the answers, I just needed to stay the course to find them. Was that what my apparently not real trip to Rangeman was about? Acknowledging that I know I should be doing things smarter?

"I know I can't chase down skips until I'm healed. Can I work for you until I can make a decision about the part-time job?"

"Of course. Babe, it's a legitimate job offer. There's enough full-time work in the office to keep you busy, between the searches, site walkthroughs and sales calls. It wouldn't be just sitting at a desk. I could really use you as a "floater" for different departments and special projects. But down the line, if you wanted to do any bond enforcement, patrols, or protection, you would need to pass the physical requirements."

Not having to go after mob enforcers for rent money would be cool, but the downside to being in close proximity to Ranger on a permanent basis is a huge drawback for my heart and I don't want to give him a reason to put more distance between us. "You being my boss would probably ruin our friendship. Rumor has it that I'm kind of a pain in the ass."

I was trying to be funny, but he didn't even crack a smile. His face is scarily serious when he says, "Babe. We're not friends." My chest constricts and it hurts to breath. Spots are forming before my eyes when he continues. "We're a lot more than friends and I think we both know it. The question is, are we going to do anything about it, or just keep ignoring what's right in front of us?"

Now I'm breathless for a whole new reason. If you don't know him, you'd think Ranger was completely calm, but his eyes are tight, and his fist is clenched where it rests on his thigh. He doesn't shy away from meeting my eyes, and I have trouble forming words. After a deep breath, Ranger stands and gently cups my face, resting his forehead on mine.

"For a couple years now, I've watched you try and be what you thought would earn you a ring from Morelli, even if you weren't sure you wanted it. I've let you walk away from me when all I've wanted to do was hold you close, but I thought I couldn't offer you anything you would want. We've had moments here and there where we've been on the cusp of something more, and we let those moments slip away. I've gambled that you and Morelli wouldn't run off and get married or have an unplanned pregnancy that would take you away from me. The last few days have shown me that I'm not willing to gamble on someday anymore."

His words continue to rob me of speech. My head is still a bit fuzzy, but it sounds like he's offering me…everything. "Did I die?"

Now he laughs. It's rusty, and a little crazed sounding, but I heard it. "It was touch and go, Babe. I almost lost you without ever knowing..."

"Knowing what?"

He turns his head, unwilling to let me see what's brewing in his eyes. I can barely hear him when he answers. "If you could love someone like me."

"I already do." The words slip out, but I don't want to take them back. His hand squeezes mine before he lifts it to kiss my fingers.

"I'm asking for your heart, Babe. I'm asking you for everything and offering everything I am and everything I have in return."

Hope and elation bloom in my chest but the door to the room opens and my family spills in before I can say anything. My dad and grandma are bickering over something while my mother rushes to my free side and starts fussing with the blankets. Ranger kisses my fingers again before telling us he's going to step out to give them some time with me. Him walking out leaves an empty and funny feeling in my chest. We were having a moment and now he's retreating. Is he coming back? I can feel my heart pounding a mile a minute and it's my mom that grabs my hand, rubbing it and talking softly to me.

"As deep of a breath as you can, Stephanie. That's right. You need to slow your heartrate down. You've had a rough couple of days. You're ok."

It reminds me of the time I got a horrible flu bug in fourth grade and my mom sat with me, rubbing my hand and talking softly. She may not always like my choices, but she always loves me.

"He'll be back." I look at her now, wondering how she knows my fear. "He hasn't left your side since they allowed him back after surgery. Mr. Bobby had to threaten to sedate him if he didn't get some rest and eat something. He's been very worried about you."

I'm not surprised, not really. Ranger has told me he loved me, and he takes me being hurt personally. When I allow myself to admit that, I can see how his reactions to my impulsive actions and lack of training might be as much about fear as it is disappointment.

Mom continues to rub my hand, lulling me to sleep. I've just about drifted out when she leans down and whispers in my ear, "Happy is happy, no matter how it looks to everyone else. I'm sorry I didn't see it before."

The next time I open my eyes, Tank and Ranger are talking over by the door, but Ranger goes silent when he sees me awake. He's showered and shaved, making him look a bit less wild, but still exhausted. In deference to the time, he's changed into sweats and a Rangeman t-shirt, making me think he's planning to settle in again. Tank tips his head to me, saying, "Good to see you awake, Bomber." He then slaps Ranger on the shoulder before slipping out the door.

Ranger moves toward me, and I use my feet and shoulders as anchors and slowly move my torso to the left, away from him. Hurt flashes in his eyes before his blank face slams down. By the time I've also moved my legs and upper body over, making room for him and flipping down the sheet, awareness has replaced the blank face and he kicks off his sneakers before carefully climbing into bed with me. Once I'm settled in the crook of his arm, he curls around me.

He kisses my temple. "You know, the nurse is probably going to kick me out."

"My money's on you. Just smile at her or donate a wing or something."

"Babe."

He's quiet as we settle in, but I can feel the tension in him. I haven't answered him yet. Reaching for his hand and lacing our fingers, I lay out my biggest fear. "I'm 0 for 2 with not being good enough, and I'm afraid that I'll lose you when you decide that it's true."

His hand squeezes mine and I get a kiss to the curls. "It's funny how we have the same fear."

It's not what I was expecting him to say, and it gives me pause that we might have lost so much time because we were both afraid. I figure I should pile the rest on and get it out in the open. "I'm not very domestic. I'm stubborn and impulsive. I have trouble asking for help even when I know I need it. I have no patience."

He's playing with one of my curls. "We have Ella. I'm not very impulsive, but I'm equally as stubborn and we'll learn how to compromise. I can't promise I'll always respect your independent streak, but I will always respect you and your skills even as I'm trying to keep you safe. We'll work on figuring out how to meet in the middle. I have plenty of patience, so maybe you can help me learn to live in the moment. Babe, I had four really shitty days to contemplate a life without you in it, contemplate missing my chance because of little obstacles that I let keep me from seeing the big picture. The simple truth is that I want you in my corner and by my side every day and every night. The rest is just details, and I refuse to believe we can't make this work if it's what we both want. I can't deny that I'd like you to get some more self-defense training, but I can promise that I'll never talk to you like the cop did or make demands over where you work or what you do. I just want you."

I squeeze his hand. "Funny how we want the same thing."

He squeezes back, and that's that, but I feel compelled to add, "You know I love you, right?"

The "Babe," I get in return makes me chuckle. We both knew what the other felt but were afraid to be the one to take the leap. We really are a messed-up pair.

As we're drifting off, I tell him, "It would be really awesome if you could bust me out of here tomorrow."

"How about our first compromise? You stay here the two days the doctor suggested, and then I'll take you to the beach for a couple days to recover."

"Make it three days at the beach and you've got a deal." I hate to make it easy for him straight out of the gate, but I'm a sucker for the beach.

"Deal."

As we drift off, together, I hear Papa. I told you, passerota. Jump and you'll land where you're supposed to.