Disclaimer the same as always. they're not mine and I'm not making any money

Here's the extra chapter I promised!

As always thank you to my wonderful Beta Heather (txbabefan) for letting bounce my crazy ideas for this story off of her and fixing all my errors!

See y'all all Monday!

Chapter 9

Steph POV:

I paced the entrance of the condo. I didn't know what to do. Was I the other woman? Did I come in the middle of a relationship? Was Carlos with that woman?

The elevator dinged and Tank stepped out. "Let's sit down."

"Tank, just fucking tell me."

He sighed and walked into the living room. He sat on the couch and rubbed his hands over his face. "Jeanne Ellen Burrows is a spy. A while back we were worked with her on a joint drug ring operation. You're probably wondering why the Rangers were involved in a drug case, right? We were there because they were also trafficking kids." He paused and looked at me.

"This was two years ago," he told me, making sure I understood it wasn't recent. "Ric had been trying to keep Jeanne off of him since we started the case. He got drunk one night, and he hoped that if he fucked her, she would leave him alone. It was a big mistake; she's been pretty much stalking him since. I don't know how she found out about you, or your shops, or anything like that, but I'm guessing she was either stalking him, or having someone follow him."

"So, this psycho bitch wants Carlos? When was the last time he slept with her?"

"He only did it the one time and trust me, he prefers to forget it happened. That is one thing he doesn't like to acknowledge he's done. You're not the other woman; there is no other woman. Ric has never brought a girl home."

"What about Les? He seems to think I'm just another girl he's fucking," I asked.

Tank rolled his eyes. "He got married right out of high school. He brought his wife onto base, and he came home from Ranger's school and found out she had fucked half the base, and when He went home he found her walked in on her in bed with his CO."

"I can understand why he's hesitant to accept me and Carlos." I sat down on the other end of the sectional.

"So, she came into your store?"

"Made a scene. My girls think Carlos is sleeping with her. It's on video. She asked me if Carlos let me ride him and tried to get me to help pick lingerie for him."

Tank rubbed a hand over the top of his head. "I don't even know how she found out about you."

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. "What should I do?"

"Just try and avoid her. I'll have to figure something out," he said.

I looked up at him. "Do you know when you'll be able to talk to Carlos?"

"Whenever he checks in. Should be in about two days," Tank answered. I nodded.

"Do you want to stay for dinner?" I asked him.

"What're you making?"

"Picadillo," I told him.

"Isn't that a Cuban recipe?"

"One of the girls I work with is Cuban. She and grew up in Little Havana. She gave me her mother's recipe."

"Then hell yes, I'm staying," he said. "The only time I get to eat Cuban is when I get down to Little Havana."

XXXXXX

I woke up the next morning and didn't want to get out of bed. The ache in my chest had gotten so heavy. I had managed to avoid this feeling most of the time Carlos had been gone, but today it was too much.

I covered my head with his pillow; I knew I fell back asleep. I woke up to my phone ringing. I picked it up and drug it under the pillow with me. I answered.

"What?"

"Are you okay?" Tank asked.

"I'm fine."

"You don't sound fine."

"I'm fine," I grumbled.

"He's going to be okay."

"You don't know that," I told him.

"He's the best."

"Even the best, have bad days," I muttered.

"Steph, he'll be okay."

I didn't answer at this point.

"Do you need anything? Do you want me to come over?"

"No," I said.

"I know it's hard, but I'll come over tonight with something to eat."

"I don't want to disrupt your life," I told him.

"You're not. I promised my best friend I would watch over you and I will."

"Bring something good," I told him before hanging up. I stretched out and groaned. I needed to get work done and I knew it, but I didn't have the will to get out of the bed.

My phone rang again. I growled and answered it. "What?"

"Steph, its Alex." He said.

"Sorry man, what's up?" I asked. I had gone to college with Alex; he ended up in the Navy. He got injured and when he got out, he decided to train military dogs. Eventually, he joined the military's program as a breeder and trainer. He also helped find military dogs homes after they were retired.

"I've got a dog. Well, a puppy. He's not cut out for service work. He'd make a wonderful personal protection dog, but we don't think he'll cut it as a drug or bomb dog."

"Okay?"

"I, well, I'm attached to him. I can't keep him. I want him to go to somebody I can trust. I already contacted a friend of mine in Miami that trains dogs. He said he would be willing to help you train him."

"Why did you pick me?"

"Because you have a soft spot for me," he said. I could hear the pleading tone in his voice.

"And nobody else wants him?"

"Everyone that has put in an application has been a dooms day prepper or a family home; a dog like him isn't going to fit."

"Why do you think he would do so good for me?" I asked. A dog, especially one bred to be a military working dog was a big deal to take on. They were smart, high energy, and cunning. "Is he one of your German shepherds or one of your Malinois?"

"German shepherd," he answered.

"What's his personality like?"

"He's a great dog. Sweet boy, loves cuddles, can play all day, he's easily trained; I'm telling you he would be perfect for you."

I sighed. "Alright. When do you want to arrange for me to get him?"

"Actually, we just landed in Miami. I can be at your place in thirty minutes."

"Alex what were you going to do if I said no?" I asked.

"I was going to bring him over to your condo and let you see him."

"Let me know when you get here. I'll come down."

I slid from the bed and jumped into the shower. Carlos was never far from my mind. What would he think about a dog? I could already see that show down. What the hell was I going to name this dog?

Thirty minutes later I stood in front of my building as a Lexus rental slid to a stop. Alex grinned at me and gave me a hug. "It's been a while," he said.

"A few years," I told him. "How's the leg?"

"Still fake," he grinned. "Just got a new prosthetic though. It's pretty cool."

"Alright, let's get him upstairs."

"I brought a lot of stuff along with him. If we can get a cart..."

The valet stepped inside and grabbed a cart, wheeling it out. He opened the back to reveal a black metal box with a door. I raised an eyebrow.

"His crate. Allows for safe transport. Impact tested. You can use it in your condo, also." He said. "It breaks down but we're just going to leave it up, so he'll have somewhere familiar for him in your condo."

I shook my head. "You knew I wasn't going to tell you no."

He grinned. He pulled a leather lead out of the car and snapped it onto his collar. He handed it to me as the dog jumped out of the car. "I thought this was supposed to be a puppy."

"He is."

"He's like fifty pounds!" I said looking down at the dog sitting in front of me. He sat observing me.

"He's four and a half months old."

"Does he have a name?"

"I've been calling him Magnum."

I rolled my eyes when he grinned. He finished loading everything and handed the valet his car keys. "What color is he?"

"Sable. He's red and black."

I nodded. We took the elevator up to my condo and I let Magnum off the leash to go explore. My phone rang again.

"Hey, I got off early. I'm on my way."

"Okay, just to warn you I have some company."

"Good or bad?" he asked, his voice tense.

"Depends on who you ask." I grinned.

"Steph."

"Good, Tank. Good. See you in?"

"Fifteen," he said.

"Then I better start cooking," I said before hanging up.

"Who was that?"

"Come sit. Let me catch you up on my life," I told him. Magnum came running into the kitchen. He weaved his way between my legs and sat next to the sink.

"He's thirsty," Alex supplied.

"So, he sits next to the sink?"

"He knows that's where his water comes from."

He handed me a bowl and I filled it up before setting it on the floor. "Anyway," I said. "I'm dating a Ranger."

"Who is he? I might know him."

"Ranger," I said. "Ricardo Carlos Manoso."

"No way." Alex grinned.

"Yes way." I rolled my eyes. "Anyway, he was called out a few days ago. His best friend Tank is on his way over. He was supposed to be having dinner with me tonight."

"Tank is a living legend. So is Ranger. I can't believe you're dating him."

I rolled my eyes again. "Does Magnum have any favorite toys? How often does he need to go see the trainer? Can he come to work with me? Is he house trained?"

Magnum settled on the floor next to where I was standing, stretching out on the cool tile. "He already likes you," Alex said.

"All animals seem to like me," I told him.

Twenty minutes later the elevator door rang. Magnum stood, releasing a growl and a powerful bark. Alex said something in German and he stopped, but stayed standing watching Tank.

"You didn't tell me I would have to learn German." I glared at Alex.

Tank stood a few feet away. "Here," he said. Magnum looked at me and then Tank and went to stand in front of Tank.

"Sitz," he commanded. I watched as Magnum sat in a very proper crisp sit. I rolled my eyes.

"Did you teach him how to salute too?"

"We were working on it. He does it about fifty percent of the time."

I rolled my eyes. "Tank you've met Magnum. This is Alex. I went to college with him. Alex is ex-Navy; he now breeds and trains military dogs along with finding retired dogs homes."

"And the dog is here, why?" Tank asked.

"Because Alex wants me to have him," I answered. Tank raised an eyebrow.

"I would keep him, but I can't," Alex said.

"Did he wash out?"

"Not exactly. We couldn't find him the right handler and he's lower drive than what the Navy and Army are wanting."

"Lower drive?" I asked.

"When you're looking at dogs, especially working dog breeds you have low, medium, and high drive. Low is great for families; dogs can be active but don't have to be. Medium is great for your active families that are always doing something, or a person who has a lot of time to train the dog and make sure it burns its extra energy. High drive, they need something to do; they need a job. When we're looking for military dogs, we want high drive dogs that are handler focused and want to please."

"Magnum here, he is medium drive. He's very people pleasing. He will be very happy in a home with one to two active people that will keep his mind occupied. On top of training with the trainer, I think he'll thrive with you."

"You've already talked me into it. Stop over selling it," I told Alex as I finished off dinner.

"Sit, the both of you," I said as I started to make their plates. "What is Magnum eating?"

"There's an ice chest on his kennel. He eats Raw food."

I sighed. "I have a feeling this dog is going to eat better than me," I told him. He grinned, "Maybe."

I found the cooler and found premade food. Beef, bones, chicken, kidneys and livers, something that looked like tongue, pumpkin, peas, blueberries and apples.

Magnum wagged his tail running over to me. He barked as I held up the bag. "This is one serving?" I asked Alex. He nodded.

"I brought you a binder with every piece of info you need. He's already got all of his shots and his rabies. He's good to go."

"Just like college. You talk me into shit," I told him. He chuckled. I walked over and poured the food into Magnum's bowl. He sat next it, waiting; he kept looking at me.

"Tell him release," Alex said.

"Release." I said. Magnum went for the bowl and started to eat. I smiled.