All recognizable characters belong to Janet Evanovich, I'm just playing.
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A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing and once again, thanks to baileygirl12 for the story idea!
A/N2: Includes the "I love trouble" prompt from a Janet Evanovich Fan Fiction Facebook group challenge.
Chapter 5
With a grateful sigh, I shut down the spreadsheet I've been looking at for the last two hours. It's the end of a long week and Steph and I have plans tonight. I've made it a habit to block off at least one night a week where I'm only available for emergencies, and in the last six months I've only had to bust up one date night. Steph understood, though; it's not like Tank planned for his appendix to burst and require emergency surgery.
A glance at the clock tells me that I still have a little bit of time before I need to head upstairs and change. It's Steph's turn to choose what we do with our night and the only hint she's given is that I need to wear comfortable clothes. That means we're not likely to be going to dinner and salsa dancing like we did on our first date.
Back in that little motel room in Point Pleasant, I couldn't have predicted how things would go. I know what I hoped for, but nothing ever quite goes to plan with Steph and our relationship is no different. She'd picked up the pad I'd been brainstorming on, and I expected to have our first fight when she read Steph needs training. I had my argument ready; as far as I knew, she still worked for Vinnie, and I needed her to be as safe as she could be. I didn't want to make demands on her, but I needed her to meet me halfway so I could make sure she made it home each night. I was prepared for attitude, but what I got was an admission that she already knew she needed to find someone to help her learn self-defense skills, as I'd all but removed myself from her life after I saw the cop's ring on her finger.
She wasn't wrong about that, and before I could come up with anything to say she told me she had already signed up for a class at the Y. I would have preferred that she let me or one of my men help, but she shook her head. "You haven't been shy about using the 'line item in the budget under entertainment' joke to cover having to shell out money on me. I know you'd help me with this, but I think if we're going to work, some things just need to be independent of you and Rangeman."
I didn't like it, but I understood it. I relaxed a little when she asked a couple of the guys to run through things with her. Watching them on the monitor in my office, I had to admit that someone had taught her well. Later that night, she admitted that she was also taking a kickboxing class and I conceded that it was probably better in the long run for her to take ownership of her training.
I nodded to a couple of the guys as I hit the stairwell to head up to the penthouse. After fobbing my way in, I dropped it into the bowl on the side table, smiling at the sight of it next to its twin. Also on my list was security system for her apartment. I would have preferred she unload her boxes of stuff on seven, but we were still new, and I knew it wasn't realistic to go from her marrying someone else to moving in with me. I hated her crappy little apartment, but paying her own way was important to her and I knew she wouldn't be willing to take an apartment here in the building or accept me paying her rent somewhere else. Steph tackled that one head on, telling me that she'd be willing to let me help her find an apartment in her budget and consent to a simple alarm system and some panic buttons. She admitted that she had, in anger and depression before the wedding, gone after a few skips that paid out well. Her checking account was flush enough to afford a slightly more modern apartment, and she had weeks ago given her notice to Dylan, anyway. She had two weeks to be out. With her permission, I called a couple of the younger guys who lived off-site, and Beatle's building had a few vacancies. We split our time between here and her apartment, and when I can't be with her at night, it makes me feel better that one of my men is only one floor away from her.
She's not in the living room or kitchen. Stopping to listen, I smile when I hear her singing, slightly off key but with admirable enthusiasm, in the shower. Dropping my utility belt on top of the safe in the closet, I strip and toss my uniform into the hamper before striding into the bathroom. I have no idea what her plans are for the evening, but hopefully we have enough time for me to give her a proper hello.
The bathroom is steamy, but I catch a glimpse of her in the foggy mirror. For a minute I stand there and simply watch her wash her hair, thankful as fuck that she gave us a chance.
"Hey, Creeper. You're already naked, so get your ass in here!"
Her catching me off-guard rarely happens and it startles a laugh out of me even as I'm reaching for the handle of the shower door. When I join her under the rainfall shower head, she gives me a cheeky smile and reaches for me. With her arms around my waist, she snuggles into me and nuzzles her nose just behind my ear.
"Playing with fire, Babe. Keep it up and we're going to be late for whatever you planned."
Her laugh warms my chest. "Oh, ye of little faith. Did you think I didn't factor in shower shenanigans? We have about an hour before we need to leave the apartment."
That's all the intel I need. Moving her arms to around my neck, I slide my hands over her ass and down her thighs. Crouching slightly, I bring her legs up until she locks them around my waist. We stand there for a moment while she leans forward and kisses me like she's got all the time in the world. When we break for air, I move us to the bench at the back of the shower, just out of reach of the water. Sitting down with her straddling me, I gently grab a handful of her wet curls and devour her mouth.
We took our time getting here, to intimacy like this. Steph was rightfully hesitant to jump back into a physical relationship with me and I didn't push her. I wanted her secure in the knowledge that I loved her and was in this for keeps. I enjoyed as much physical contact as she allowed, and some nights it felt like I was a teenager making out with Jenny Mendoza in her parents' basement again, but Jenny never made me feel like Steph does. After a frank, and more than a little uncomfortable, talk, we'd both gotten tested and gotten a clean bill of health. Steph had also talked with her doctor and gotten the birth control implant. A little more than two months after I tracked her down at the shore, we were going hot and heavy on the couch when she held my face between her hands, leaned her forehead against mine and whispered, "I'm ready."
Hearing that she was ready for more was nearly enough to set me off right then and there, like I really was back in high school. Finally earning her trust was an aphrodisiac, and I never miss the chance to show her how I feel about her.
Steph reaching down to tweak one of my nipples brings me back to the present and I groan as she leans forward to nibble my earlobe. Taking control of her life upped her confidence in all areas and I'm putty in her hands. Wanting to return the favor, my hand snakes down between us, finding the perfect rhythm to leave her on edge and panting. When we've finally worked each other into a state of frenzy, she moves to slide down on me and I have to mentally recite the proper mountain rappelling technique to keep from blowing too soon. No matter how many times we join together, it's still a rush that leaves me breathless and wanting more.
By the time we've cleaned each other up for real and rinsed off, we're bumping up against the hour she allotted for getting out of the apartment. I stand behind her in the closet as she surveys the clothing she keeps here. She makes her selection and glides past me, letting her free hand slide across my stomach. Grabbing her hand, I tell her, "You're asking for trouble."
She smirks. "Good. I love trouble."
Steph has always played with me, and while she might still blush, she doesn't back down now. It's damn sexy. Looking back at the closet, where more and more of her things have collected, I shake my head. I really was an idiot when it came to maintaining my no relationship stance.
Back in the bedroom, Steph is pulling on a pair of low-heeled boots. Her jeans, black tank top and turquoise and black flannel shirt aren't out of the ordinary for her and give me no clue as to her plans for the night. She only grabs a little purse thing that holds her phone and some credit cards as we head to the elevator. "Where to, Babe?"
"Dinner. I worked up an appetite!"
At my smirk, she rolls her eyes and directs me to Big Jim's for barbeque. I've learned to make the days before and after Steph-planned dates temple days and just go with the flow. She shrugs off my raised eyebrow when she orders water with dinner rather than a beer. "Need to keep my wits about me tonight."
Now I'm really intrigued. I wasn't sure what to expect from dating, but it's been interesting. A lot of the time we're happy enough to stay in and eat something I've made while playing Twenty Questions or Two Truths and a Lie. In the beginning it was hard to open up, but Steph's learned to accept that there are some things I just can't tell her or bring myself to talk about and moves on when I say pass. On the flipside, I've tried to share what I can and in return learned more about Steph than I ever imagined. I thought I knew her, knew what made her tick, but I'd only scratched the surface of who she is.
Knowing that the cop never really took her out other than to Pino's, I've made sure that we have dates out of the house. We've done dinner and dancing several times, had a day at the shore, and ate our way through a food truck festival. One of our most unusual dates was on Steph's night, when we spent a couple hours at an indoor rock-climbing gym. When we pulled up to the place, she laughed at my shocked face and said, "I'm never going to love working out, but I can handle stuff like this that is at least fun."
It made sense when I thought about it and realized that a lot of our dates involved dancing or walking, so why not climbing? Since then, I've enjoyed the anticipation of seeing what she comes up with almost as much as the dates themselves. It's just another reason that I've kicked myself for denying what was right in front of me.
Our food comes and we shoot the shit about everything and nothing. Toward the end of the meal, Steph freezes with a rib halfway to her mouth. She closes her eyes for a minute before going back to eating. I'd already seen Morelli enter the restaurant with a stacked redhead but didn't point him out. It took some doing, but we've settled into an uneasy detente and now instead of people calling to have him come down to processing when Steph brings in a skip, they give him a heads up so he can avoid the area.
Steph wasn't sure what she was coming back to after she played the Runaway Bride, and things were about what she expected. The Morellis weren't shy about spreading the story of her only making it halfway down the aisle, and the cop himself was already back from his solo honeymoon and working a murder case. There were whispers everywhere she went in the Burg, but she held her head high and pointed out, "Better to admit it wouldn't work out now than after we're married."
"You ok, Babe?"
She nods. "Yeah. I just don't know how I'm supposed to act when I see him. I'm not sorry we're not together anymore, just that I hurt him."
She bites her lip and works up some semblance of a closed-mouth smile when he spots us. Like always, his eyes narrow at seeing us together but he gives a nod and steers his date to the other side of the restaurant. By mutual agreement, Steph and I kept things somewhat low-key when we got back. Not because we had done anything wrong or were ashamed, but because she didn't want to hurt Joe any more than she had, and I didn't want her to face any more gossip than she already was. It only took the cop two weeks to corner me at the scene of a break-in at one of our accounts. He got in my face, and I let him vent about me stealing his girl for a few minutes before Santos and Big Dog separated us. The asshole in me wanted to point out that I let her go and he still couldn't seal the deal, but I remained silent, which probably pissed him off even more. He finally wound down, told me to go to hell, and walked away. Since then, we've only dealt with him when we had to.
Little by little, Steph relaxes and after a dish of peach cobbler she asks, "Are you ready to flex your badass muscles?"
I laugh. "Always, Babe."
She doesn't even glance Morelli's way as we head out and Steph issues directions without letting me see her phone. I'm speechless for a good ten seconds when we pull up to a business down by the river. I've told he before, but it's still true. She never disappoints. Axe throwing. The woman who eschews all weapons is taking me axe throwing for our date. Only Steph.
She looks at me, waiting for a reaction. At my smile, she blows out a breath. "I think you'd be at home just about anywhere, but I'm not sure I'd ever convincingly be able to do the swirl and spit wine tasting thing. But you should know… I've been practicing and I'm going to kick your butt."
That earns her a bigger smile. It's hard to believe that seven months ago, I didn't think I could give her this, happiness and a relationship. I've never been happier to be wrong. "Bring it, Babe."
After we check-in, watch a safety video, and are shown to our lane, Steph waits until I'm up to throw before she steps close to me and whispers in my ear, "I've been thinking about what you said, and my answer is yes."
The minx planned that on purpose and my axe hits to the side of the bullseye and I don't even give a shit, because she's saying yes to moving in with me. I'm rooted in place for a minute, waiting for her to take it back, but she doesn't. Instead, she steps up to the line and hits a bullseye before stepping back and winking at me. Ignoring everyone and everything, I pull her to me and kiss the daylights out of her. She's going to keep me on my toes, and I couldn't be happier about that.
Get busy living or get busy dying. Without her, it felt like I only had one choice. But with her, really with her, we're living and loving, and not settling for anything less than happy.