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

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Chapter 2

RPOV

Steph's hands are twisted up in the napkin in her lap. I admired her from afar in the bar, but up close is even better. She has some fine lines around her eyes, and some laugh lines, but she's still Steph. Still beautiful in her unassuming and natural way. She waits, patiently for me to answer. What seemed like such a smart idea ten years ago looks like a clusterfuck in hindsight. I went into my plan with the best of intentions, but seeing the look on her face, I executed it poorly and I wasn't the only one that lived with the ramifications.

"Morelli asked to meet with me. I thought maybe you were in trouble, so I went. He was nervous when I got to the bar, and he told me how you two were talking and he told you that he'd think about proposing if you could learn to bake a chocolate cake. He had this huge gut-punch of a smile on his face when he told me you made it and how proud you were of it. He said that meant you wanted him to propose. He said he had the ring, and he wanted a gentlemen's agreement that I'd step back and leave you alone. I didn't want to make things more difficult for you, so I did."

I might not have been around Steph in a long time, but there's no doubt that she's angry. Her lips are pinched in a fine line and I'm half afraid she's going to snap the stem of her wineglass if she doesn't relax her fingers. We're interrupted by the server returning with our food and with a glare from me, he scurries away.

She gives a humorless laugh. "That still doesn't explain why you just walked away from me without ever saying anything. Were you only my friend if I was willing to sleep with you? I don't get you, Ranger."

Guilt and anger churn with equal fury in my gut. "Damn it, Stephanie! How can you think that's all it was?" Heads swivel in our direction and Steph stares down at her plate. Slowly, everyone goes back to their food. "You mattered to me. Your happiness mattered to me. I couldn't stay there and not touch you and I didn't want to get in the way of your marriage."

"And that meant you cut me out of your life completely? Do not pass go, do not collect $200? You didn't even stick around to see if we made it to the fucking church!"

A woman at the next table shushes Steph and gets a sarcastic "Bless your heart and mind your own business!" for her troubles. Facing me again, Steph shakes her head at me, like she can't believe how stupid I am, and lifts her wine glass to her lips but sets it down again without taking a sip.

She's right. I didn't stick around, didn't wait for the news. "Why aren't you wearing a ring, Babe. What happened with Morelli?"

"Does it matter?"

My jaw clenches. It shouldn't, but it does. I give a nod and she sighs.

"I never wore Morelli's ring. He asked, I hesitated, and that's when the fight started." She says it with a shrug, like it's no big deal. I guess maybe they were off and on so much it wasn't, but the forced nonchalance isn't reading true right now.

For ten years I avoided Trenton, avoided her, so she could be happy. Fuck me. "Then what happened?"

The fettucine gets pushed around her plate. "We called it off for good and I took the brunt of the fallout from the Burg and even my family. No one could understand why I didn't immediately say yes and drag him to the church. Even I didn't understand, not really. After that I got a bit reckless and went after a bunch of skips that were mostly out of my skill level and didn't care about the outcome."

Son of a bitch. "Tank had instructions to look out for you." I made it very clear to him that Rangeman resources were still to be made available to her; I just didn't want to know about it. He and I will be having a conversation on the mats the next time I see him.

She blinks a few times. "It wasn't Tank's job to babysit me anymore than it was yours. Anyway, the gossip got to be too much, and I had a pretty good nest egg built up, so I decided that maybe it was time to see what was out there in the world beyond Trenton."

It feels like she's leaving a lot of the story out, wrapping it up with a nice bow, but I know her. We eat for a few minutes while I try and figure out where to steer the conversation. It's only then that I realize that Steph, a woman with insatiable curiosity, has been curiously reticent after her first question.

She sees me watching her. "What?"

"You haven't seen me in ten years. I expected more questions."

She leans back in her seat. Her right arm is low across her chest and she's absently playing with the ring finger of her left hand like something's missing. She catches me looking and immediately stops. She might not have worn Morelli's ring, but there's a story there. Her eyes are cool and her voice neutral when she does answer.

"When you disappeared, I tried calling you, texting, everything. Then I went to Rangeman, and no one would tell me anything. Most of the guys wouldn't even look at me, and if they did, it was with pity. That's when I got scared, worried that something had happened to you. I tried asking Tank to contact you for me, just so I'd know you were ok. That went on for a long time, and I really thought you were in the wind, and it was bad. It wasn't until even Tank's looks of understanding turned to looks of pity that I finally caught on and realized that you left me in the dust, by your own choice, and no one was ever going to tell me. That's the day I turned in my fob and trackers and decided that you had it right and a clean break was for the best." She pauses. "It's also the day I went after a Stark Street dealer worth $100,000."

"Babe." Her cutting herself off from support was never my intention.

"Like I said, I got a little reckless, but like always, I got my man. As for not asking questions, I accepted a long time ago that I wasn't privy to your life, and you made it clear that all access was now denied. It hurt like hell, but I finally accepted that you were living your own version of happy and that was enough for me."

She says it with finality, and it feels like a door closing. I decided that she deserved a chance at a happy marriage with the cop with no interference from me, and that wasn't going to happen if I saw her on a regular basis. If I could see her, I was going to touch her. It was that simple, our connection that strong. So, in my head, the best solution was to rip the band-aid off and leave, basing myself in Miami where she was beyond my reach. I told Tank to spread the word that Steph was still welcome at Rangeman, but I wanted no knowledge of her new life. It's an order that I've second guessed many times over the years, but never changed. I've never regretted it more than I do right now.

"What happened after you got the dealer?"

Her fork wends its way through the pasta. "When I finally made it back to my apartment, Tank was waiting for me with a pizza from Shorty's and a pissed off attitude. When I asked if you were at least ok, he sighed. I'm pretty sure I broke him. He asked me if this was what I really wanted from life; the gossip, the betting, going after gang bangers and worrying about retaliation. How long was I going to wait for someone who wasn't going to come back to me. It was brutal, but at least someone was finally being honest with me."

My exit from her life was extreme, but it was the way it had to be. "I had to leave and make it final, for the both of us."

"No, Ranger, you made the decision for the both of us and then justified it to make yourself feel better about being a martyr. I was your friend, and I had your back. I deserved better than you ghosting me and then trying to shovel the load of crap that it was for my own good."

She's right, and in hindsight, I would have done things differently. Probably everything differently. Those first months in Miami, I itched to grab my phone and call her, just to hear her voice. I nearly flew home a dozen times just so I could break into her crappy apartment and watch her sleep. Except it wasn't my place anymore; she and the cop were making a real go of it, or at least I thought they were. She was my addiction that I had to break, and cold turkey was the only way to do it. After a while, I learned to live with the hole in my heart, convinced that I had done what was best for her. Weeks became months, and months became years, and I always told myself that she was happy and not checking on her was the best thing for both of us. I was an idiot.

"I'm sorry."

Lost in my musings, I hadn't noticed she was taking a drink of wine until she choked on it. She eyes me warily, judging my sincerity. I can't really blame her; she has no reason to trust anything that I say, not after I walked away from her without a backwards glance in such a way that she didn't even know it was happening. "I should have at least talked to you, but I knew if I did, I wouldn't leave."

"Maybe that should have told you something," she mutters, spearing a piece of broccoli on her plate like it personally offended her. I expect her to shove it out of the way and hide a shocked laugh when she pops it in her mouth like eating vegetables is a normal, everyday occurrence for her. Maybe it is now, and it makes me wonder what other changes she's made in her life.

She snorts, "Yeah, I saw that look. I eat vegetables. I run, slowly, but I run. The Italian genes had to catch up to the Hungarian ones at some point."

"Finish the story. What happened after Tank brought pizza?"

She gives me a half smile tinged with sadness. "You can literally feel when it's time to move on to your next life's next chapter, you know?"

I nod. She's gotten serious, and it feels like I'm going to get the real story.

"It was time for me to move on. Trenton wasn't a good place for me anymore, but I didn't have anywhere to go. I had money, so I closed my eyes and jabbed my finger at a map. It just so happened to land on a beach, so that worked for me. I had no idea what I was going to do when I got there, but me, being me, figured I'd find something."

I can see it, in my head, her closing her eyes and randomly picking like that. I can also see her peeking and choosing somewhere else if her finger landed somewhere she didn't want to go.

"Tank came over again while I was packing, surprised I was moving so fast, but there was no reason to stay. When he realized I had no plan, he grabbed the roll of paper towels and we started scribbling out my woefully short list of skills and strengths. I was good at finding people, finding needles in a haystack. He urged me to start a business offering those services and later helped me set up an LLC and passed me a few names to market my services to."

My fork freezes in my hand halfway to my mouth when I think about that. Tank knew all along that she hadn't married Morelli, and he knew where she was and what she was doing. Part of me is thankful that he stepped in, and part of me is pissed that he didn't try harder to get me to pull my head out of my ass. She's running her finger over an imaginary ring again. "What's the story there?" I ask, pointing.

She looks at her hand like she's seeing it for the first time. "Old habit." She straightens her hand, pink nail polish glittering in the candlelight. "I was married, and then I wasn't, and it took me a long time to take my ring off. I used to play with it and sometimes I forget it's not there anymore."

A vice squeezes at my chest and I can't really explain it. I walked away so she could marry Morelli and be happy, but it's a kick to the balls to hear that she really did find happiness without me. It's what I wanted for her, and yet it still stings. I don't know what makes me say it, but suddenly I want to know more. "Tell me about him."

I'm unprepared for the genuine look of happiness that crosses her face and how her eyes come alive with animation. "It was a couple years after I moved. Derek worked at the accounting firm that I hired to take care of my taxes for me. We danced around each other for a while before I finally asked him out on a date. Third date, he took me home to his mama and she fed me and that was it; we just clicked and never looked back. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop and almost ruined it, but he was patient and loved me anyway. My family came down, and we got married on the beach. We had five really good, happy years together."

That explains the current lack of ring. "What happened?"

She bites the inside of her cheek and looks away. "Drunk drivers don't give a shit about happy."

Fuck. One of my excuses for not letting myself get truly involved with her was not wanting to take a chance on leaving her a widow, and she became one, anyway. It hurts, knowing that someone else put that smile on her face, that she fell that deeply in love enough with someone. And that makes me a bastard because I wasn't willing to offer that up to her. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"Me, too. He's been gone almost three years and I miss him. And dating sucks." She grimaces but ends up laughing, and I join in. She's not wrong. My dates are usually one and dones or friends with benefits set ups, but it's hard to weed through the crazy. The thought of her dating gives me a small jolt of jealousy; clearly my feelings haven't faded any.

Sitting across from her, eating a meal…it's not a position I ever expected us to be in again. We're both nearly done with our food, but I'm not ready to let her go again. I want to know more about her life, what she's done in the last ten years. I want more time, even though I don't deserve it.

SPOV

My appetite gone; I give up the pretense of pushing the rest of my food around on the plate. I have my answer, and it sucks. He walked away because Joe asked him to and stayed away because he thought we got married. It's nice to know it wasn't because something terrible happened to him, but the disappointment is heavy. I lost one of my best friends because I baked a fucking cake. The universe is a messed-up place sometimes.

He's been quiet since I started talking about Derek. I should feel bad, but I don't. I loved him, and I still do. I noticed him right away when I went in for a meeting with the accountant assigned to me. We flirted each time we saw each other, and I finally just took the bull by the horns and asked him out for drinks. The banter was easy, and the attraction was there in spades. In some ways, he was the exact opposite of Ranger. Blond, open, great storyteller, he respected my boundaries, and he trusted me enough to let me in and know the real him. For the first time in my life, I truly understood what it meant to love someone and be loved. It scared me at first, but he didn't let me run when we fought or make decisions for me. He wasn't perfect; he could get a little too lost in a spreadsheet and hated to ask for directions or help, but he was perfect for me. The crushing grief of losing him has passed, leaving an ever-present emptiness that I've learned to live with.

Now that we're done eating, there's nothing really keeping me here. The shock of seeing Ranger again is wearing off, and sadness is settling in. Nothing probably would have ever happened with Ranger back in Trenton, and him leaving kicked of a series of events that led me to Derek, and I'll never regret him. Never. If it weren't for some asshole thinking he could drive home after three hours of shooting tequila shots with friends, it would be Derek sitting across the table from me, eating the salmon, listing out the things we'd go see and do after my meeting in the morning.

Looking at Ranger again, I can't quite decipher the look on his face, not that I ever could. For years after I left, I hardened my heart to him, convinced that I hated him. But it's easy to hate the idea of someone, harder to hate them face-to-face. In his head, he was doing what he thought was best, and who knows, maybe it was. Joe and I were always so explosive, neither willing to bend or compromise. Most of that was me, unwilling to be someone I didn't want to be but not sure what I did want, either. Hell, it's entirely possible we'd all still be doing the unending back and forth not quite triangle if he hadn't left. A large part of me is still pissed and hurt that he cut off all contact, but maybe that's what he needed, maybe what all of us needed.

"Are you happy?" I don't know what makes me ask, but I suddenly need to know.

He shrugs. "I work, see Julie on occasion, spend time on the water. It's enough."

I notice he didn't mention dating. "That's right, your life never lent itself to relationships."

I hadn't meant to blurt that out, and he doesn't seem to take offense. "It didn't, not back then. I had a lot of rights to wrong and figured I needed to be unattached to do that. People still snuck in, though."

The look he gives me lets me know I'm one of those people. He'd never been shy about telling me he wasn't emotionally detached from me, and that he loved me in his own. Ten years of distance and maturity buffers my heart, and I can admit that he might have strung me along a bit and offered false hope, but I'm the one that didn't push for answers one way or another until it was too late.

The server returns and asks if we want dessert, and Ranger's eyebrow pops up when I decline. The red velvet cake here is amazing, but my stomach is in knots. After the check is laid on the table, I try and reach for it, but Ranger stops me with a simple, "Babe."

Nodding my thanks, I try and ignore the awkwardness that settles back in. We talk about Atlanta in general for a bit while we wait for his credit card to come back. When there's no other reason to stay, I pick up my purse and look at him, committing the sight to memory. "It was good to see you again. I hope life has been good to you and continues to be. My wish was always for you to accept happiness."

He gives a sad half smile. "I have regrets, and I'm sorry I hurt you. I don't know if I would have stayed, but I should have at least talked to you before I left."

There's not much I can say to that, so I match his smile and stand up. He follows suit and with a hand on my back, leads us over to the elevator. It's my intention to say goodbye here, since I have a room downstairs. We stand off to the side to accommodate a group waiting for the next car. The elevator pings and a large group exits the car, causing a few of the waiting group to step back, pushing me forward…right into Ranger. Just like earlier, he catches me before I fall. We're entirely too close together, breathing each other's air, standing chest to chest.

Neither of us move, frozen is place, until he says, "Babe," on an exhale as he leans in closer. The spark is still there, and I don't stop him. The moment our lips touch, I'm gone, lost in a haze of memories and lust. We stay there, lost in our own world, until the pinging of the elevator startles us.

His hand is still cradling my head when he leans in for another quick kiss before resting his forehead on mine. I know I should say thanks for dinner and walk away, but a bit of the old reckless Stephanie is still in there, and she and loneliness make a formidable team. In my head I know this is probably a really bad idea, but it's been a while since I've been with someone and despite everything… I trust him and a night of guaranteed satisfaction sounds like a good way to close that chapter of my life once and for all.

Grabbing his hand, I pull him with me to the elevator. He's surprised enough to follow along, wrapping his arms around me from behind while I pull my keycard out of my jeans pocket and use it to send the elevator to the fourth floor. He peppers my neck with kisses when I lean back against him for the twenty second ride. We make our way down the hall slowly, randomly stopping for kisses until I've led us to my room.

Once inside, my purse gets tossed somewhere as we stumble our way forward until we run into the executive's desk. He's still behind me, and I put my hands down on the desk to steady myself. My heels put as at the same height, and he uses that to his advantage, rubbing against me while he unsnaps my pants and works his hand inside. My head falls backwards onto his shoulder as those long fingers snake under the waistband of my underwear, and he groans when he discovers how wet I am.

He nibbles his way down my neck, and I grasp a handful of his hair when his fingers move from exploring to driving me crazy. It's not long before I'm letting out a keening wail and my knees go weak.

Still panting, I let him lead me over the bed and lay me down. He's already got my pants, underwear, and shoes off before my hands are steady enough to undo my top and reach for the front clasp of my bra. He pauses to watch, and I feel compelled to point out, "You're still wearing entirely too many clothes."

With that wolf grin that I remember so well, he pulls the sweater over his head before starting on his belt buckle. I unabashedly watch, marveling in the acres of mocha latte skin that are on display. With my shirt and bra finally off, we stare at each other before we both break into smiles. He climbs on to the bed with me and I bracket his body with my legs, pulling him in close. When the kisses become heated and the touches frenzied, he gives me one last nip on the lips before kissing his way down my body. After paying homage to my breasts, he settles between my legs, leaving me breathless and begging.

Not able to take it anymore, I give his hair a tug and he reaches for his wallet. I hear the tearing of the foil packet and then he's back with me, inside me. It's as good as I remember, and in my memory, it was very, very good. He lifts my hips and rests them on his thighs, giving himself extra leverage but taking away mine. No longer able to touch him, I make do with running my hands up my ribcage until I'm palming my own breasts, playing with them. His eyes smolder, and I hold his gaze when I snake one of my hands down to where are bodies are joined, touching us. His head drops forward and I allow my eyes to close and get lost in the sensations. When the sensations are nearly unbearable, we come together, with him grinding out my name while a kaleidoscope of color flashes behind my eyelids.

He collapses forward, catching himself with one arm while the other scoops me up and moves me to his side. No words are spoken, none needed. All my bad ideas should feel this good, and I'm determined to enjoy my night and go home with the memory of Ranger firmly behind me.