Chapter Three

By the time Stephanie got to the bar, her heart rate was largely back to normal, assuming normal was roughly the equivalent of scaling the Matterhorn.

She pushed through the door and took a minute to adjust to the dim interior and the noise. Her gaze swept over the room. It wasn't very busy. Most of the after-work crowd had left, and all that remained were a few stragglers. The serious drinkers that would close the place down hadn't shown up yet. She filed through the various tables and barstools at the counter. The patrons were mostly men. Interspersed were two groups of women, all in business attire. She spotted Brady. He was sitting at the bar nursing a whiskey, eyes glued to the game. His navy suit didn't quite hide the fact he was carrying. The slight bulge near his waist was a dead giveaway, and Stephanie remembered what Ranger said happened to the last guy. She ran a hand over her belly in sympathy.

There was open space on either side of him, but he didn't look like a guy that was out trolling for company, and this wasn't his first rodeo. She figured he might get spooked if she sat down next to him since there were a dozen open seats.

Stephanie pushed up on a barstool a safe distance away and ordered a seven and seven. The bartender slid her drink across the polished mahogany counter and Stephanie took a tentative taste, watching Brady in the mirror over the bar. Still engrossed in the game, he alternately sipped his whiskey and shoveled in peanuts. Stephanie ran a finger down the condensation on the glass and wiped it on her napkin as she toyed with a plan. This capture had to be a success, because she needed the money.

"Give me a few minutes." Stephanie said to her breasts, hoping Ranger heard her.

She pictured him pinching the bridge of his nose and muttering curses under his breath in Spanish. Maybe banging his head on the steering wheel of the space shuttle and wondering why he'd hired her. She needed this capture to be a success for that reason, too. She wanted Ranger to think of her as clever and capable: not just the girl that burned down the funeral home.

A commercial break interrupted the game, and Brady slid off his barstool and headed down the hall to the men's room. Stephanie hopped off her barstool and edged closer and waited. Her pulse pounded in her throat and her palms were sweaty. She resisted the urge to wipe them on her skirt.

A couple of minutes passed and Brady ambled back down the hall. Stephanie walked towards him, rummaging in her bag, looking absorbed in finding whatever. Just as she reached him, she fake stumbled and knocked into him. She reached out and clutched his arm for support.

"Oh my gosh. I'm so sorry." Stephanie exclaimed.

Brady's eyes locked firmly on her chest. He steadied her, and she pulled back from him.

"Thanks. It's just been one of those days. I guess I really need a drink." She tried her breathless porn star voice on him. If his eyes ever cleared her nipples, she'd give him her million-dollar smile, but he didn't seem to be interested in anything north of the nipple border.

"I know what you mean. How about I buy you that drink?" His voice was deeper than she thought it would be.

His eyes might have flickered to her face when he said it, but she couldn't be sure. On the plus side, the only thing he would be able to identify was her bra size.

He took her elbow and guided her to the bar. Her first thought, she really hoped he'd washed his hands. Her second, she was coming on to some guy carrying a gun that was wanted on an open warrant. All in, not the worst date she'd ever had. She hopped up on the barstool next to him and leaned forward a little, giving him a preview.

"What do you do?" Stephanie asked him.

Stephanie forced herself not to wince. Not only was it lame, but it was not the right thing to ask a guy on the run. She mentally pictured Ranger groan.

Brady's eyes cut up to her face, and she saw suspicion. She gave him her best doe-eyed look and tried out her million-dollar smile.

"Accountant." He said dryly.

Stephanie widened her eyes and leaned a little closer. "I think you win. Maybe I should be the one buying you a drink." Stephanie winked at him and he smiled, relaxing a little.

"What about you?"

"Lingerie buyer." She replied.

His eyes cut back to her breasts, and Stephanie forced herself not to sigh. Really, what was it with men and breasts? Granted, lingerie probably conjured up visions of frilly, lacy thongs, and a low cut teddy, instead of the industrial granny panties that had made up the bulk of her buys. Another one of those male myths. All men thought women liked dental-floss-up-your-ass thongs, when most liked good coverage and boy shorts.

"Bar seems a little busy." Assuming busy was all of five people, Stephanie gave a mental eye roll. "How about we go somewhere else?"

"What did you have in mind?" Brady asked her nipples, turning his body towards her.

She had his attention now. She let her knees fall on either side of his leg as she scooted a little closer.

Stephanie's shoulder tilted up. "Whatever." She made her voice low and husky.

Brady licked his lips and threw some cash on the bar. She knew she had him.

"Let's go." He practically barked.

He held out his hand to her, and she slipped hers in his. It was large and soft, like the rest of him. He had an athletic build that had gone soft, but he still towered over her, and a flutter of vulnerability washed over her as he tugged her down the hall instead of towards the front entrance.

"Where are we going?" She squeaked as panic bubbled.

"Out the back." Brady rumbled.

Stephanie tried to slow down, but he was too strong and tugged her forward. This had not been the plan, and icy fear paralyzed her brain. Ranger's voice pierced her hazy thoughts. "I've got you. Nothing is going to happen to you." That's what he'd told her, and she believed him. The rising panic ebbed.

"Wait." Stephanie's voice was firm and Brady halted.

"Give me a minute." She smiled at him. "I need to use the little girls' room." Then she giggled. She wondered how many brain cells that had cost her. Even pretending to be that stupid was dangerous.

He let her hand go, and she popped into the ladies' room. "Going out the back." She repeated into the wire.

She wanted to give them time to get in place, but she also didn't want Brady to wriggle off the hook. A couple of minutes passed, and she popped her head out. Brady was still waiting in the hall. Stephanie stepped towards him and ran her hand up his chest.

"Ready?" She batted her lashes and gave him what she hoped was a lust filled look, and not one that looked like a drunk hyena.

It must have worked, because he grabbed her hand and started tugging her towards the door.

The minute they pushed out the door, a pair of powerful arms wrapped around her and swung her away from Brady. Instinctively, she knew it was Ranger, and Stephanie relaxed into him.

She heard cursing, grunting, and the sounds of a scuffle. A few seconds later the unmistakable snick of handcuffs echoed in the night and she peeked around Ranger's shoulder. Tank and Hal hauled Brady to his feet and off towards a waiting SUV.

Ranger's voice whispered close to her ear. "Proud of you, babe."

Stephanie smiled at the praise. She pressed back into his broad, unyielding chest, resting her head back against him, and released a pent-up breath. She would have sworn she felt his arms tighten around her for just an instant. Too soon, he let her go and stepped back, and she turned to face him. They stood looking at each other.

A beat went by and he motioned with his hand to her chest. "The wire."

"Oh, right. Sorry." Stephanie slid her hand down the front of her blouse and pulled out the wire and handed it to him, supremely disappointed he didn't help. An almost smile ghosted across his face as her thoughts scrolled across her forehead like a billboard.

"Les will take you home."

With that, Ranger left. She pushed down the urge to call after him. So much for the hope he would drive her. She felt deflated, but then what did she think was going to happen?

Les' warm hand settled on her back, urging her towards the SUV with gentle but insistent pressure. He opened the door and gave her a boost up and then jogged around and got in the driver's side.

"You did great." Les enthused, giving her his trademark grin. "That voice, that pickup. That was like every man's wet dream. I think we all need a cold shower after that."

Les was laughing, and Stephanie gave a derisive snort. "Thanks, I think."

Somehow, she got the distinct feeling that wasn't the case for Ranger. Apparently, he'd been immune to her sexy voice and pickup lines. He seemed relieved to hand her off. Stephanie blew out a soft sigh. Who was she kidding? Ranger was out of her league. He was varsity, and she was in the peewee league.

"You should come to RangeMan around nine tomorrow and we'll get you set up with a fob for the office and garage, get your paperwork done, and then you can get started. We have a ton of searches."

"Sounds good." Stephanie ran an impatient hand through her hair. She felt unsettled, and she wasn't sure why. Energy hummed through her, making her jumpy and fidgety.

"You OK?" Les asked, glancing over at her.

"Yeah, I'm good. Just a little keyed up I guess."

"Expected. Just a little adrenaline."

A few minutes later, they pulled into her lot. Les opened the door and gripped her around the waist and set her down on the ground. She was grateful for the assist; the odds were high, she'd either break an ankle or fall out on her ass if she tried to jump.

Les' hand rested on her low back as they headed into her building. Her hands shook as she tried to put the key in the lock, and she took a deep breath, willing her hands to steady. A strong, masculine arm circled around her from behind, and stilled her hand. Les took the keys from her and gave her hand a little squeeze before he inserted the key into the lock. He opened the door, and she stepped in. Les stood in the doorway, studying her, his face unreadable.

"Do you want me to clear your apartment?"

Stephanie gave a negative shake of her head. "No, it's fine."

Rex was running on his wheel and the only other noise was the low hum of the refrigerator. It was unlikely any psychos or stalkers lurked behind the shower curtain.

"You seem a little stressed. I can help with that." The timbre of his voice had dropped, and her nipples contracted in response. The way he said it left little room for interpretation.

His eyes drifted down, noting her reaction and then back to her face. He wore his trademark grin, but the look in his eyes was anything but friendly. All heat and fire smoldering just under the surface.

Stephanie swallowed past the lump in her throat. Did she want Les to come in? Part of her definitely did, and that part was screaming pretty loud, giving her the urge to squirm.

"I don't think that's a good idea." She allowed.

Les' shoulder tilted up. "Probably not."

He stood in her doorway waiting while she debated.

"I think I'll take a pass tonight." Stephanie finally whispered, caught up in those dark eyes that promised delightfully wicked things.

"Is that a hard pass?"

"Just for tonight."

The switch flipped and Les, the charmer, was back. "OK, I'll see you in the morning. You know my number, call me if you change your mind." With that, he was gone, and Stephanie was alone in her apartment with her runaway thoughts.

Stephanie flopped down on the couch and blew out a shaky breath. She dropped her head into her hands and massaged her temples. Why not invite Les in? He was gorgeous and easygoing. The rules were upfront and well-known. They'd get naked and sweaty and no one would get attached. He wouldn't spend the night and she wouldn't expect him to.

So why? Because tomorrow she would see Ranger and he'd know, and somehow that just seemed wrong. Her gut clenched along with parts south when she thought of Ranger. She was officially insane. The man barely knew she was alive.

Stephanie forced herself off the couch and into her bedroom, where she kicked off her shoes and peeled off her clothes. A long hot shower and a date with the massager would do her good. She was jittery and achy in all the wrong places, and if she didn't release some of the tension, she'd never sleep or she'd break down and call Morelli. Neither of those options would lead to anything good.

Twenty minutes later, Stephanie was a lot more relaxed as she dried off and pulled on her big fluffy pink robe. As she exited the bathroom, she swore she heard the deep, sexy rumble of Ranger's Porsche. She raced to the window and looked out. A sleek, black Porsche pulled out of her lot. But really, what were the odds?

Her phone dinked, and she checked the display. A text that said "Hall" from an unknown number sat winking at her.

OK, well, that was cryptic. Stephanie peered out making sure there were no weirdos or stalkers. When she was satisfied the coast was clear, she opened the door and picked up the package propped against the wall. The attached note was written in a sexy, loopy, bold scrawl, that she instinctively recognized as Ranger's handwriting.

"Welcome to the team," was all it said, but sparks still shot through her as her fingers traced the words. The handwriting matched the man.

Embarrassment washed over her. She'd been in the shower intent on a little self-service that had starred Ranger in some very vivid ways, and he'd been just outside her door. She wondered if he knew. Stephanie rolled her eyes. There was no way. Was there?

Her phone dinked again.

"Nice shower?"

"Omigod!" Stephanie shrieked, startling Rex.

Rex stopped running on his wheel and sniffed the air, his little whiskers twitching, beady eyes scanning. No food, no impending hamster doom. All was well, and he went back to running. Her face blazed so hot she could probably fry an egg on her forehead. She raked her hand down her face and blew out a harsh breath. Calm down, there was no way he could know, she assured herself. Stephanie winced. Yeah, who was she kidding. Of course he did. She would never be able to look him in the face again.

Stephanie opened the bag. Nestled inside was a pint of Ben and Jerry's and a spoon. Stephanie flopped down on the couch, smiling despite her overwhelming embarrassment, and flipped open the lid. She toyed with the phone and tried to think of something witty to say.

"Ben and Jerry, the only men a girl needs."

"You've been hanging out with the wrong men."

Stephanie's mouth popped open and hung there for a minute. What did you say to that? She tried for something neutral.

"How did you know Cherry Garcia is my favorite? Are you psychic or something?"

"Nothing that exotic. I called Les, Les called your grandma…long story."

Stephanie smiled. Anything that involved Les and her grandma was bound to be a story.

"Hmmm. Next you'll tell me you aren't really superman."

"Want me to be superman?"

Stephanie swallowed. Her whole body sizzled with heat. The innuendo and invitation in that statement, unmistakable. She had no doubt he could rock her world, but then what. Right now, she needed the job.

"I think I'll stick with Ben and Jerry."

"Disappointing."

Now that was the understatement of the century.

"Night."

"Night, babe."

Stephanie toyed with the phone. He didn't seem like superman. He was more dark, broody, and mysterious. Stephanie saved his contact under batman. She thought that suited him better.