~ ~ Previously ~ ~

As she buckled in, she thought about her encounter with Joe. She should have felt at least a little excited about the prospect of a fun day or about things possibly getting back on track with Joe. Instead she felt aggravated and annoyed. Maybe she should think about why she felt that way.

She turned the key and put the car in gear. Or maybe she'd stock up on Ben & Jerry's, head back to her apartment, and have a TV marathon of her own. Thinking could wait.

Chapter 3 - Thursday

Ranger's birthday dawned like any other Thursday. When his alarm went off at 5:00 a.m., he was awake and aware within seconds. The first thing he noticed was the stiffness in his lower back. The second thing he noticed was the ache in his hip from where he'd hit the pavement. Both were sustained while taking down Ziggy Zankowski yesterday. He'd quickly wrestled the fugitive into submission and cuffed the man. Then he and Tank delivered the high level drug dealer to the Feds. Thanks to good planning, the capture itself was quick. Overall it was little effort for a very big payday. Very big.

After he hit the bathroom for a nature break, Ranger tossed on baggy black shorts, a sleeveless black t-shirt, and black sneakers. He gently stretched his back and rubbed the muscles in his right hip, careful not to press on the bruise. Two years ago, a warm shower or a couple of hours of sleep would have taken care of it. Hopefully, this morning's workout would ease it up. He flung a small white towel over his shoulder and headed down to the gym on 3, snagging a bottle of water from the fridge on the way out.

Even at 5:10 a.m. the gym was busy. Cal and Binkie were spotting each other in the weight room. Woody was on one of the elliptical machines and Vince was on the stair climber. Junior and Ram were practicing takedown maneuvers in the sparring ring and Bones was on one of the treadmills. He was always pleased to see his men avail themselves of this perk.

When Ranger first began crafting the business plan that would one day become Rangeman, he realized that the business would only be as good as the men he hired. He tried to think of how best to ensure his employees had everything they needed to excel as they would be the driving force behind Rangeman's success.

Yes, experience made a difference. But security was a physically demanding profession so training the body was as important as training the mind. Providing all employees easy access to facilities such as the gym and the gun range was crucial. While the cost to install each was substantial, Ranger felt the results proved the investment to be worthwhile both to his men personally and to his company as a whole.

Unfortunately, he couldn't provide a pool on premises. However, he was able to work out a sweet deal with a nearby swim center. All of the employees, including the caretakers Ella and her husband Louis, had taken advantage of it at least once.

The SEALs in particular appreciated it. He heard that they worked out not only individually but also in teams. That thought reminded him to check with Cal or Hal to see if the swimmers needed anything, He didn't want out of sight to mean out of mind. The men worked better when the boss took an interest in them.

As Ranger approached the treadmills, he could feel someone behind him and turned. His cousin Lester, five inches taller and 11 months younger, greeted him with a one-armed hug followed by a buddy punch to the shoulder. "Happy birthday, cuz."

"Don't mention it." Ranger punched him back, harder. "Seriously. Don't mention it."

Ranger took the middle treadmill, draping the towel across one handle. He cracked the seal on his water bottle but left it capped before setting it in the holder. Lester hopped onto the remaining treadmill to his left, arranging his towel and water bottle in the same manner. There was silence as each man selected the program settings for his run.

Once they began their warm up, Lester spoke again.

"I hear Tia Reyna is making her special cake for you Saturday."

Ranger grunted to show he'd heard.

Lester glanced over with a smile. Using a silly baby-talk voice, he teased, "Is the birthday boy grumpy this morning?"

Without looking, Ranger shot out one arm and punched Lester in the shoulder hard enough to make him wobble.

Lester laughed. "Good to know your peripheral vision and your aim are still sharp, old man."

Ranger snorted. "You're basically my age. If I'm old, you're old."

"Yeah, but no matter how old we are, I'll always be younger and prettier than you." Lester grinned.

Ranger grinned back. "Be careful, primo, or I'll tell Mama you're being mean to me and you won't get any cake."

Lester laughed. "Okay, okay. I yield."

They fell silent after that, concentrating on their run.

Ranger always used this time to think. He'd review his schedule for the day, or plan a take down or strategize an operation given to them by the ATF or FBI.

This morning, he began by thinking about how lucky he was to have Lester for a cousin. He was closer to Lester than to his own brother Marco. Part of that was the age difference, of course. Marco, the family's first boy and second child, was five years older. Lester was close in age and had lived only two blocks away. The two of them had grown up together. Nobody could pull him out of a bad mood as quickly. Granted, sometimes it had been Lester's antics that had put him in a bad mood to begin with but Ranger could never stay mad at him. Nobody could. Lester had always been an easy-going goofball which made his legendary focus and ferocity in the field all the more surprising.

Ranger shook his head to clear it. What he really needed to focus on was how to move forward with Stephanie.

He couldn't suddenly bare his soul to her, blurting out his hopes and dreams like the hero in some sappy romance channel movie. It wasn't his style for one thing. But the abrupt change in attitude would confuse her since he'd spent the past few years trying to keep her at arm's length. Well, except for the occasional kiss. And the steady stream of cars. And making sure she had a partner when she needed it. And keeping track of her so that he could get there before any bad guys could. And the times when the desire to be with her was so strong it overcame all reason and discipline and he'd resorted to poaching in the alley.

Well, shit. Come to think of it, that was the complete opposite of staying away. Seems like she wasn't the only one confused by whatever it was they had.

Okay, this would take some finesse. He'd have to think of it like a mission. Create a multi-level strategic plan with the end objective of winning her heart completely. Lester would probably give it some dumb name like Operation Woo Lovely Stephanie and start talking about OWLS to throw off everyone not assigned to the team.

The last time he had set out to romance anyone he was, how old? Thirteen? Fourteen? Back then he had absolutely no idea what love was or what girls wanted. Had no clue how to talk to them. And he was bad at the entire process of finding a girlfriend. Really bad. Like, had to resort to boosting a damn car bad. It wasn't until Celia's birthday card had sparked an introspective review that he'd remembered why he'd done that. Why he'd gotten drawn toward the kids with gang affiliations.

That theft was an effort to impress an "older lady" of fifteen and a half. She was pretty and popular and hung out with the gang bangers. She never noticed the kid one grade behind her who was at least three inches shorter than her and weighed maybe 100 pounds. He cringed, remembering how desperate he was. How deeply he was pining for this girl that he really knew nothing about beyond her looks and the type of guy she seemed to pick. So, he tried to become just like los matones that she dated, hoping it would give him a chance with her. Instead, he failed spectacularly.

Of course, by the time he'd finished his growth spurt in high school, he didn't have to do anything outrageous to get attention from girls. Right before his fifteenth birthday, he started getting taller. By the time he was eighteen, he'd grown up and filled out. Running added endurance. Lifting weights added bulk and definition. The ladies had noticed him then and every day since. A raise of an eyebrow, a crook of a finger, or a smoldering look, and the honeys would come running. The only thing he had to do was to pick one. Or two. And, on one memorable occasion, three.

Despite being hot and sweaty as he ran, he felt a chill slither down his spine. What if he was just as bad at courtship now as he was in high school? Dios, he really hoped he'd improved since then. The last thing he needed was to try to win over Stephanie with all the delicate moves of his short, scrawny fourteen year-old self. But it wasn't like he'd had any practice with romance and wooing. He hadn't had any chance to learn how. He could flirt but that wasn't the same, was it? What if it turned out he had no game for long term relationships? OWLS could end up crashing badly due to his inexperience with this one specific thing.

He shivered at the thought. It had been a very long time since Ranger had felt this insecure and uncertain of his abilities. It was unsettling.

To his right, Bones finished his run and shut down his machine. As he stepped off, he asked Ranger about a scheduling conflict. The answer - Ask Tank - was easy enough but the interruption marked the end of Ranger's ruminations.

The day rolled on and by the afternoon he still hadn't had a chance to return to planning. He was at his desk filling time between meetings by reviewing quarterly budget projections. The ATF people were scheduled for conference room 1 in sixteen minutes. Ranger and the rest of the Core Team would be in attendance. That should take him through the end of his day.

There was a mild increase in the noise on the control room floor. Someone said, "Hey, Bomber" and he knew that Stephanie had arrived.

He also knew that she didn't like the nickname Bomber or Bombshell or any other variation of Bombshell Bounty Hunter. She put up with it because she was too polite to put her foot down and stop it. In his opinion, the Burg manners that had been drilled into her since birth were a hindrance that should be left behind like other antiquated social niceties. Like making special forks just for eating asparagus or having to welcome an uninvited guest just because they showed up on your doorstep.

Then again, his own Mama often lamented his lack of etiquette, and even Lester had declared him socially awkward, so who was he to say?

He watched Stephanie approach his office. Judging from the spring in her step and the gleam in her eye, she was in a cheerful mood. She was wearing plain jeans, a t-shirt with Pink Floyd artwork on it, and her black boots. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail that swung from side to side as she walked. Her giant purse was slung over her left shoulder and tucked under her left elbow. In her right hand she held a small white shopping bag, the kind made of heavy paper with stiff handles sticking out of the top.

A wave of calm washed over him. Just watching her was good for his health. How much better would their lives be when they were finally together?

"Hey, Batman." She gave him a cheerful grin that echoed in her voice.

He tipped his head to acknowledge her greeting, letting the barest of small smiles show. "Babe."

She came all the way in to stand at the desk next to him. She set the white bag gently in front of him then dropped her purse at her feet. "Happy Birthday."

Based on the packaging and - he breathed deeply - the sweet smell, it was something from the bakery. When she'd set the bag down, there was the quick impression of a sharp edge against the paper of the shopping bag. She knew it was his birthday but the bag and the box it contained were too small for a cake. The packaging wasn't right for donuts. So he guessed it was a cupcake. Possibly two, though they'd be squashed together, so that put his guess back to one.

"I got you something. I was going to get you a card, too, but I couldn't find one with enough room for what I need to write and then I thought it would be better to come tell you in person instead of writing it but I didn't want to show up empty handed on your birthday, so …"

She was so excited about it that she didn't wait for him to reach for the bag, but dipped her hands in. She pulled out a small box, moved the bag out of the way, and set the box in its place. She flipped open the lid of the box.

"Ta-dah!"

Inside was one cupcake. The pale yellow icing was piled almost as high as the cupcake was tall. There was a plastic decoration with the Batman logo stuck in it. It was simple and silly and wonderful. There was only one problem.

"Thanks - it looks great." he gave her his most sincere smile. He really did like it. The little plastic logo would be added to the collection in the special drawer in his desk upstairs. "You know that I can't eat it."

"Sure you can. I had them put a fork in the bag."

She started to rummage in the bag but he grabbed her wrist briefly,

"That was very thoughtful of you. It's the sugar I'm talking about."

"It's okay. The 'my body is a temple' thing doesn't count on birthdays. Everyone knows that birthday treats have no calories, sugar, trans fats, or anything else harmful."

He raised one eyebrow at her.

She looked at the cupcake. Picked it up with one hand. Turned it one way and then the other. Bringing up her other hand, she swept all of the icing off with her index finger where It perched like a yellow cloud. She looked around his office. As he reached under the desk for his trash can, she shrugged and stuffed the entire clump of icing in her mouth, finger and all. He watched mesmerized as she slowly slid her finger back out, her pursed lips wiping it clean. She brushed her finger across the thigh of her jeans a couple of times to dry it.

"There. Now it's a muffin." She pulled one small birthday candle and a lighter from the bag. She poked the candle into the newly created muffin and lit it. "You have to make a wish!"

He thought about what Celia had written on his card. He was tired of being logical, of being ruled by reason. There was a huge list of arguments against it, but he wanted, for once, to go for what his heart desired. And his heart wanted her. Hell, he'd even eat the damn muffin if it made her happy. It would be worth the extra time in the gym.

He wished he could be the one for her. He also wished she would choose him. He blew out the candle and made the wish official.

He could feel his expression soften as he looked at her. Her amazing blue eyes were bright and her cheeks were flushed a pale pink. She looked so happy. A warmth stole over his body when he realized that he had made her happy. He loved that feeling.

All right. He'd made his wish, now he should put the plan into action. Mentally he reached for the OWLS planning book to execute the first step. Then he remembered that he hadn't formulated a plan. Shit. What subtle move should he make to get this journey started? Think, Manoso. He reminded himself that, despite what it felt like, Special Forces soldiers didn't panic.

"You'll come to Newark with me Saturday. Meet my family." Great. He didn't ask her - he told her. That was a command. He had ordered her to Newark like she was a subordinate.

She stared at him and murmured, "Saturday is Atlantic City with Joe."

He exhaled as if he'd been punched and his chest tightened. For the first time in years he had put his heart out there and she was saying no. Worse - he was losing her to Morelli. He used to say that Morelli was a good guy with a sucky job but that was back when Joe actually seemed to care about Stephanie. He should have said something sooner. He could feel his face go completely neutral to hide his emotions. Stephanie called it his blank face and she hated it. She didn't understand that it was a tool of the trade.

"You're going to Atlantic City with the cop Saturday?" Years of practice kept any inflection out of his voice. His inner fourteen year old wanted to throw a fit but the adult in him knew better.

"How did you know?" She looked startled at first, then her face fell as she realized what she'd done. "Out loud?"

He didn't bother to confirm it for her. "Thought you were on an off period," he said mildly.

It was the same tone he'd use for small talk, like discussing the weather. That is, if he was the kind of guy who indulged in small talk. Which he didn't. But if he did then it would sound like that.

She frowned. "We are, but –"

"So, even your off phase is still on." He made it a statement.

He pushed away the plate with the muffin. There was no way he could eat it now, not with his stomach knotting up.

"We're not on." She rolled her eyes.

"Does Morelli know that?" He was trying to sound neutral but slid past that. To his ears, he almost sounded bored.

"He's not my boyfriend. We're off." Stephanie stepped back and crossed her arms.

"Yes." He mirrored her posture, crossing his arms and shifting his chair back from the desk. "Off to Atlantic City to bask in the sun. Should be fun for you."

Okay, there was that neutral tone he'd been trying for. Hopefully it wouldn't slip again.

"It's his sister Cathy's birthday. Well, her birthday is actually in September. Anyway, the casinos have these party packages with all kinds of stuff included –"

Great. His real birthday was losing out to her Not A Boyfriend's sister's fake birthday party. It took great effort to appear outwardly unaffected but he managed it. He was a professional, after all.

As she described the delights in store for the partygoers, every word she spoke was like a stab to his heart. More than once, he'd survived actual torture. Some of the practitioners had been trained in the art. Others were gifted amateurs. Nothing he'd undergone had hurt as much as finally making his choice then having it snatched out of reach.

"It sounds like your idea of the perfect day." His voice was mild but inside he was still berating himself. He should have spoken sooner.

"I don't have to go, Ranger." Stephanie was starting to sound aggravated. "I only agreed because it would be a fun day out for free. In fact, I did a lot of thinking last night and I'd rather talk to – "

He saw Tank waiting in the hall and checked his watch. "Sorry, Babe. Can't keep Tank waiting. Don't worry. You and Morelli will be on again by the end of the weekend." He stood up and slipped his phone into his pocket. "Thanks for the muffin."

As he stepped around the desk, he gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. Tank gave him a quizzical look, but he shook his head. They headed down to the conference room, leaving a frowning Stephanie behind. For the rest of the afternoon, one thing kept playing over and over on a loop inside his brain.

He should have spoken sooner.

~ ~ To Be Continued ~ ~

~ ~ Author's Note ~ ~

I know it's getting angsty and there's some bone headed moves going on but I promise we're heading for a BABE HEA.