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

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Happy Birthday, Steph! The story (and epiphany!) are based on a random meme that showed up in my Facebook feed.

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Enjoy the Ride

As the gate went up, Manny entered the garage, sparing a sideways glance at another patrol unit heading out. With efficient movements, he pulled up near the stairwell and waited silently. It had been a long five months tracking a high value target across two continents and I was more than ready to get back to Rangeman business and life in Trenton. I don't often take the long jobs anymore, and this one wasn't even supposed to be that long. A couple weeks, tops. The easy job quickly turned into a clusterfuck as more intel came in. I could have tagged out and sent some of the guys out in the wind to run down the leads on our HVT, but it tied into one of my old missions and I needed to see it through. That commitment meant missing out on months of my life, of the lives of those I love. It was just one more concession I made in the name of keeping people safe.

Manny's quiet, "Glad you're back, Sir," hung in the air behind me as I exited the SUV and slammed the door. The stairwell door opened while I was grabbing my bag from the backseat. Tank waited by the elevator, lifting his chin to Manny as the SUV pulled away and headed further into the garage. Even though I spent a week hunkered down in a safe house on the beach to get my head on straight and rehab a minor knife wound to my thigh, I was still agitated and keyed up. I'd hoped to avoid really having to talk to anyone tonight. It's why I was here at Haywood and not climbing the stairs to Steph's rat trap apartment.

Tank gave me a thorough once over. "How's the leg?"

"Fine. Anything that needs addressed tonight?"

"Negative. You need to see Bobby?"

I shook my head. "I'm going to go upstairs and crash for the night and check in with Steph in the morning before she leaves for work."

"She moved."

My heart lurched. "In with the cop?"

Tank's brows furrowed for a minute before clearing. "Fuck, no. They've been over for months. Based on the few fights they had at scenes, it was her doing and permanent. He's finally moved on to a kindergarten teacher."

"And Steph?"

Tank shrugged. "Been busy."

Busy? Busy doing what? With who? Did she move on while I was gone? Tank correctly interpreted my unspoken questions. "Mrs. Plum set her up on a few dates early on but seems to have given up on that. Bobby thought maybe something might be going on with a guy at the new gun range outside of town and managed to be there at the same time as Bomber on a few mornings. Everything seemed professional. That, and the guy seems pretty happy with his husband, who helps run things."

"She's going to the gun range?"

"Affirmative. Gun range, gym, shadowing a PI. Started mid-October."

About a month after I left, then. It's a reminder that I also missed her birthday. I'd been hoping to be here to see her.

"She still working for Vinnie?"

"Yes."

"Any problems?"

"No."

That was maddening little information, even for Tank. "She still going after lower-level skips? Where'd she move?"

Tank opened the door to the stairwell, waving his arm to indicate we were walking up. I guess he was taking me at my word that my leg was fine. "She's been going after all of Vinnie's skips."

I stopped in my climb to the penthouse, turning to glare at him. He held up a hand. "Don't kill the messenger, especially before you have all the intel. I already told you she changed, started taking the job more seriously. She brings in most low and mid-level skips on her own. For the high bond and dangerous skips, she came to me, and we worked out a deal. She runs some searches in exchange for using our programs and hires off-duty guys to go with her and pays them the standard Rangeman hourly fee, even though most of them would do it for free at this point. But it was important to her that she pay them for their time, so we went with it, mostly so she'd keep asking for help rather than try and go after the Stark Street set on her own. Sometimes she just needs extra bodies to cover exits. At first, only a few guys were willing, but as soon as the rest of them saw that she was being serious about the gun range and self-defense training at the Y, most of the guys let her know they'd be available to help. It's a win-win. She gets her skips and the fees, and the guys earn a little extra bank and get let off the Rangeman chain for a bit."

My eyebrow rose at that. "Explain."

He snorted and moved past me to continue up the stairs. "When they work with her, just about anything can happen and it keeps them on their toes. You just can't train for some of the shit she faces and the way she pulls in information and interacts with her skips is an education. Chet underestimated a little old Bingo lady and he worked monitors for a week until the blue bingo dauber dots on his face faded. I had to write Ramon up for a failed drug test when he got sucked into an I Dream of Jeannie marathon at Mooner's and ate a brownie. Hell, even Les took a nut shot from the Pleasure Treasure lady. But all of them came back with stories and smiles on their faces. Probably from the fast food and donuts she treats them to as a personal thank you." He shrugged as I unlocked and opened the door to the penthouse. "They see her as a little sister to help and protect now instead of a burden of the job and they're generally happier and more relaxed because of it. No downside in that."

I chewed on his words while tossing my bag on the table and taking in the apartment. Nothing had changed in here while I was gone, even though it sounded like everything had changed outside these walls. "But no serious mishaps?"

With a sigh, Tank rubbed a massive hand over his bald head and my body went on alert.

"Binkie and Rocket went with her for a medium bond in Hamilton Township. Everything in the file said it should be an easy capture, and she'd done her research and surveillance ahead of time. Low level dealer but caught with a shit ton of coke. Living with his mom. No priors, no indicators of violence. When they got there, gunshots rang out from the house as they approached. Both Steph and Binkie took grazes to the arm. They were able to adjust their plan and get inside. Once there, they found another player. Steph disabled that one with a knee to the nuts and cuffed him while they waited for the cops. Steph pulled his ID and called Connie; turns out he was a supplier wanted on a federal warrant." Tank laughed. "The cop showed up and Steph picked a fight with him to stall things until Connie got there with faxed paperwork for her to take him in. The look on Morelli's face when Steph showed him the right to apprehend was a thing of beauty."

I could easily see it and after my heart rate slowed from "graze to the arm," I smiled. "She make bank for the extra?"

"Fifty grand. She insisted Rangeman take twenty percent. Even better, she earned the respect of some of the guys that were on the fence about the new her."

All the money should have gone to her, and it rankles that some of my men might not have been showing her respect. She's unconventional, but her record speaks for itself. Tank cut me off at the pass. "At first, she wanted to split it fifty-fifty and was pissed I wouldn't accept it. She went off on some rant about paying her way and not being in your entertainment budget and not being a charity case. I don't know where that came from, but she was firm. To keep the peace, we negotiated to take twenty percent as long as Binkie and Rocket's payment came from the Rangeman share. She didn't like it but accepted it. Treating her like an equal seems to be the key to negotiating with her. She doesn't want to be taken care of, just respected."

I filed that information for later, already knowing it but struggling to put it into practice. "That the only problem case?"

"A few other minor ones. Bumps and bruises. One stalker that she caught herself, one firebombed car where she was never in danger. She takes things more seriously now."

That was welcome news but didn't answer the question I wanted to know. "You still haven't told me where she moved."

He smiled. "She rents an apartment on the sixth floor of a complex about twenty minutes from here, one of the ones we monitor. Paid for a few extra months on her apartment and didn't announce she was moving, just quietly transferred her stuff out over the course of a couple days. We didn't even know until she came here to set up a contract to have a few of our panic buttons in place. She declined cameras, though."

I'm happy as hell she's finally out of that death trap but can't help but wonder what finally gave her the push. Tank must sense my confusion, because he adds, "Like I said, she's changed. Not sure what brought it on, but it's been interesting to watch. Ghost is dating a girl from the Burg, and they don't know what to make of her kicking the cop to the curb. It's gotten out that she moved from her old apartment, but she's been good about not advertising where she is. I'm not even sure her mother knows exactly where she lives, but then again, her mom's been busy taking some classes at the community college. That's got the Burg gums flapping, too."

That was a lot of change to take in. It's late, and I fought the urge to head to her new place to see if I could let myself in. The need to see Steph was strong. I'd done a lot of thinking over the last few months, and even more in the last week. Her dumping the cop, this time for real by the looks of things, was welcome news. She deserved better than that toxic back and forth and it seemed she finally figured that out. But she deserved better than what I'd offered her in the past, too. Part of me acknowledged that while I set the stage with the deal and my actions after, I could also admit that I was no longer content to be the fallback guy or the interloper during their off phases. While chasing my target, I quickly realized that while I still appreciated the hunt, I was over a solitary life on the move. I had ample opportunity to pick up a woman for the night over the last few months, but always found a reason not to. Alone in impersonal hotel rooms, with no one but my hand to keep me company, I'd think about the rightness I sometimes felt in coming home to her in the apartment when she hangs out. It hit me out of the blue one night that I was finally at a place where I was ready to admit that I wanted and could offer more. With Steph. Only Steph.

I'm not sure how long I stood there lost in my thoughts. Tank smirked but otherwise did not comment on my inattention when his booming voice startled me. "You thinking of making a play for Bomber?"

Not willing to give anything away, I remained silent. Steph deserved to hear my thoughts first. Tank shook his head. "If you think you're going to go in with the same playbook you've always used, you're going to be disappointed. Like I said, she's different."

With a "glad you're back, see you tomorrow," Tank let himself out. I ran a tired hand down my face. It was almost midnight, too late to track Steph down tonight. Better to shower off the day and hit the sack and be rested for the conversation I want to have.

When I finally climbed into bed, I ran a hand over the sheets on the empty side. Steph loved my sheets. Maybe I should have Ella pick some up for me to give to Steph for a housewarming gift. Or a belated birthday present. I could offer to help break them in. With that thought, I drifted off with a smile on my face.

The dream I swiftly settled into was one of my favorites. Steph, handcuffs, and the shower was a potent combination and it frequently played out in my head with a better ending than what really happened years ago. Suddenly, though, we're in my bed and Dream Steph, clad only in a royal blue teddy is settled on my legs. Her hair swung forward, shrouding her face as she leaned forward and kissed my chest. My hand made its way to her head, my fingers working their way through her curls. The softness of her hair, the feel of her lips making their way down and over my abs… it felt so real that I knew I was going to wake up in the morning with a raging hard-on.

It wasn't until I felt her tongue glide up my full length before hot, wet heat engulfed me that I realized maybe this felt a little too real. With great effort, I struggled my way to consciousness, both shocked and amazed to realize Steph really was here in bed with me. Our eyes met briefly before she returned her attention to what she was doing, adding her other hand to caress my aching balls. Fuck. This was going to be over embarrassingly fast if she continued that.

Once I got my hands to cooperate and let go of her hair and the sheet, I tried to pull her up, so I could really see her. She wiggled out of my grasp and added her hand to the mix. The inability to just sit back and enjoy what she was doing until after I made sure we were on the same page was surely karmic payback from some past misdeed.

I was finally able to find my voice, even if the words came out strangled. "Babe, let's talk."

She released me, but not before running her tongue up my length and kissing the tip. Her head tilted to the side as she looked at me through narrowed eyes. "You want to talk? Now?"

"Yes!" Pretty sure I did, even if she was making it hard. Pun intended.

She made a disgruntled noise as she sat up onto her knees and walked herself forward until she was settled over my rather unhappy dick. Any other night, I would have been fucking thrilled to wake up with her mouth on me, but I needed to make it clear I wanted this be for more than one night.

"What's gotten into you, Babe?"

She shot me a wry grin. "Nothing, lately."

I barked out a laugh and she graced me with a smile. A little pressure eased off my heart at the knowledge she wasn't moving on without me. "I'm glad you're back, Batman." She leaned forward and braced a hand on either side of my head. There was no hesitation when she kissed me, and I let myself settle into it. When she eventually pulled back, she ran a tender hand down the side of my face. "I missed you."

"Missed you, too. Sorry I was gone for your birthday. Things with the case went sideways and it took longer than I intended."

"It happens." She shrugged and the movement pressed her lower body more firmly against me, reminding my unhappy dick that I ended his playtime prematurely. I took a good look at Steph, noting that she was wearing a lacy bra and boy short combo and it was ten times sexier than the blue teddy from my dream.

"Was it a good birthday, with your family?"

"Nope, just me. My nieces had a school thing, so birthday dinner was punted to the weekend."

She didn't seem all that upset about it. "Morelli?"

"Worked."

"The girls? Mary Lou?"

She shrugged again. "Busy."

Wait. That meant… "You were alone on your birthday?"

"It's fine. It was still a good birthday. I had an epiphany and there was wine and a "Congratulations, Becky!" cake. Actually, the wine and cake came before the epiphany. Pretty sure, anyway."

I had to smile at that. "Becky didn't get her cake?"

Steph made an exaggerated sad face. "Guess not. And that's too bad, because it was an excellent cake."

"And this excellent cake led you to an epiphany?"

She blew out a sigh as her fingers ran up and down my chest and shifted around, causing my hips to thrust up into her. She hissed and closed her eyes for a moment, a smile overtaking her face. The beauty of it was a shot straight to my groin as I grabbed her hips to still her movements. It took a moment to realize she was speaking. "I remember sitting at the table with a fork, enjoying a truly delicious buttercream frosting, making my way towards the center, and washing it down with a bottle of white that had a pretty label. I was feeling sorry for myself, alone on my birthday, and realizing there's never been a Congratulations, Stephanie! cake and there probably never would be. Another year had gone by, and I didn't really have anything to show for it. No savings, still in the crappy apartment that I struggled to pay for, still chasing low level skips for peanuts because I sucked at my job. Still breaking up and making up with Joe."

"And?"

"And that's it. I woke up the next morning. The cake and the wine were gone, and there was a napkin filled with random shit on one side and a list on the other."

"Babe, putting yourself into a food coma isn't usually considered an epiphany."

If there was more than moonlight spilling on us, I'd probably be seeing her roll her eyes. She ran one of her fingers up the valley between my abs. Unbidden, my hand came up to trace the lacy edge of her bra. Her hand snaked over and covered mine, moving it to settle on top of her breast. Neither of us moved and I was too shocked by her boldness to speak. A jolt of surprise and lust went straight to my cock and I forced myself to remain motionless, waiting to see what she'd do next.

"That wasn't the epiphany. Something I had written on the napkin was."

She grabbed my other hand and brought it up to her other breast. Still guiding my hands, she used my willing fingers to pull the cups of her bra down and anchor them under her breasts. The sight of her in the dominant position, her body on display and guiding me in the reveal, was sexy as fuck. When I looked at her face, I expected shyness or even embarrassment. Instead, there was nothing but openness and desire. Suddenly, I had to know. "What was written on the napkin, Steph?"

With a smile that shot straight to my dick and threatened to end the fun before it began, she said, "Life is like sex. You can lie back and let it screw you, or you can climb on top and ride the hell out of it."

I'm not sure what I was expecting, but it wasn't that and shock must have shown on my face. But only for a moment, because after dropping that bomb, she leaned forward and captured my mouth in another searing kiss that oozed confidence. My hands were still on her breasts and my brain finally re-engaged. Sliding my hands to the side, I ran my thumbs over her hard nipples and swallowed the moan it pulled from her.

After long, delicious minutes, she pulled back just enough to look at me. "I must have seen it online somewhere, but that was the epiphany. I'm done being passive and getting screwed. The list was things I wanted to get better at, things I wanted to do before my next birthday. I've been going after what I want. I wanted a better place to live, and to not have to mooch off my parents. I wanted money in the bank so I had choices and could control my future. I want to live my life without regrets."

Her lips settled on my jaw and lazily worked their way up to my ear. After she softly bit my lobe she whispered, "I want more than what we've had. More than a night here and there and letting you walk away because I'm scared. Taking chances was my birthday gift to myself."

My breath hitched at her words. I could tell by the way she didn't immediately sit back up that she'd lost some of her bravado. My thumbs gave her nipples one last caress before I wrapped my arms around her and gently flipped us. My hips anchored her to the bed, and I still held her tight in my arms.

"Look at me, Steph."

It took a few moments, but she finally turned her head to face me and opened her eyes her face curiously blank. "Turns out, I had an epiphany, too."

She looked worried, and then curious. "Yours didn't come from eating a salad, did it? Nothing good can come from those epiphanies."

The laugh that escaped me had our bodies sliding against each other, pulling moans from both of us. "Didn't involve food, just missing you and realizing I wanted more than what we had, too. I want a you and me."

She relaxed a little and I felt like shit for what was going to come next, but I needed to know. "What about the cop? I'm not interested if he's still in the picture."

Steph's eyes narrowed and I prepared for a fight, but the anger leaked out of her almost as soon as it flared. "Ancient history. I didn't just figure out what I wanted; I realized what I didn't. He and I are just incompatible, and the rest of my life seemed like a really long time to have the same fights over and over again. I think we kept getting back together because it was easy, and he fought the end of it because that meant he had to go put some effort into finding someone else. But once I made the decision, I knew it was the right one." She bit her lip; the move had me groaning and I almost missed her question. "What about you? Anyone I need to worry about?"

I shook my head. "It was never about anyone else, just not being in the right place to offer you what I thought you needed."

"And what did you think I needed?"

"What Morelli could offer you."

She snorted. "If I wanted a house in the Burg and family storming their way in on Sundays, I would have had it already. I think neither of us really wanted it, but it was expected, so we kept trying to make it work. I'm never going to be that girl. You know that, right?"

She looked a little worried, but she didn't need to. "You're not that girl, I'm not that guy. We're just us and we'll enjoy the ride and figure it out as we go."

"Really?"

"Really, Babe. How about you let me wish you a belated birthday and then tomorrow you can walk me through your new life, maybe show me your new apartment."

She smiled and moved her legs to wrap them around me, crossing her ankles just above the small of my back. "Sounds like I'm going to enjoy the hell out of this ride."

Me, too, Babe. Me, too.