Bonus chapter. You'll get chapter 10 tomorrow, as scheduled.

Chapter 9

Stephanie's POV

I was glad to be in John's car, heading home. I had fun tonight, but being that close to Morelli brought up too many bad memories, ones that I want to forget. It felt good to get dressed for the club tonight. It's been a long time since I've worn something other than scrubs or lounge pants. The occasional dress doesn't count. I stare out the window of the car as we drive from Philadelphia back to Trenton. John's voice breaks me out of my musings.

"You did great tonight, Michelle. Morelli would have followed you anywhere."

"Thanks. It felt good to have a role in returning him to prison, even if Joe is innocent. It gave me some payback."

"You know what he did to you wasn't right. All of us would love nothing more than to beat him to a bloody pulp. No woman deserves to be treated the way he treated you."

"You're just saying that. I know how you guys can be players."

"Michelle, many of the men we work with play the field. I won't deny that. I did that, too, when I was younger. The difference between Morelli and us is that we won't force a woman to have sex with us. If she isn't willing, we walk away, no matter how far along we are. We respect our partners. Besides, Ranger wouldn't stand for us disrespecting a woman."

"What do you mean?" I ask, confused by his statement.

"The first day that Ranger was in Trenton, he called a meeting with all the male new hires. He explained the Rangeman Honor Code. We must live by a set of rules if we want to stay employed by his company. First, what happens in Rangeman, stays in Rangeman. We must not break the confidence of our co-workers. Second, our bodies are temples, and we must keep them in tip-top shape to ensure our safety. Thirdly, whoever works for Rangeman is equally knowledgeable, valuable, and honorable. It doesn't matter if we served ten years in the military or ten years in jail; if Ranger is hiring us, we pass his standards. Lastly, we are to treat women how we would want a man to treat our sisters, daughters, or mothers. If there is ever a hint of any kind of harassment or mistreatment of a woman, that will be cause for a suspension and potentially termination. I live in the building. Ella is like our building mother. She cleans each of our apartments once a week and will buy food for us if we ask. However, her services are not automatic. We need to treat her with respect and do everything in our power to make her life and work as easy as possible. That means that we are expected to make our beds, clean our dishes, and keep our apartments relatively tidy. She will not clean or enter our apartments if they are in disarray. She is not our maid, and we are not allowed to treat her as such. Most of us are well aware of her role and didn't need that reminder.

"So you see, Michelle, if any of the employees of Rangeman were to force a woman to have sex with them as Morelli did to you, we would be terminated. I can tell you that while most of the guys we work with find you incredibly sexy, you are, for many, a sister. We want to protect you, not because you need our protection, but because you are so accepting of us. You call us out on our bullshit. You don't go running away if we forget your around a make a crude comment. You have earned everyone's love and respect just by being you. It's what drew me to you."

Wow, I never realized that the guys at Rangeman thought of me that way. I know I have a great relationship with them, but why wouldn't I? They are so thoughtful and caring, even though they look big and scary. I mean, even Cal, with that flaming skull tattoo is a big teddy bear. A few minutes later we are pulling up in front of my house. I see the light on in my room, so I know Grandma is still awake. She usually waits up for me when she stays over. While it might bother some thirty-year-old women, I love it. I know that Grandma cares for me and wants to make sure I'm okay.

"Would you like to come in for a little while? Grandma is staying over tonight, but we can watch a little tv or have some coffee."

"I'd like that, Michelle."

We get out of Woody's car and walk hand-in-hand up to my door. I unlock my door and key in my new alarm code. My purse goes in the cabinet drawer in the foyer while my keys go in in the dish on the top. My phone sits on the top of the table where I plug it in to charge.

"Steph, is that you?" Grandma calls from the top of the stairs.

"Yes, I'm here with John."

"Oh, okay sweetie. I'll talk to you in the morning."

"I'll be right back, John. I just want to go get changed. Feel free to grab something to drink and put on the tv."

I walk up the stairs to my bedroom.

"How did tonight go? Did you manage to get that horse's patoot Morelli?" Grandma asks me.

"Yes, I did. Ranger said I did a great job. I feel good, real good, with what I did tonight."

"You look nice. I haven't seen you dress like this in a long time."

"I know. I felt sexy for the first time tonight in a long time, but I also realized that I've settled into the Burg mom role a little."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, while I'm not a stay-at-home wife and mother, I dress as the other women do by wearing mom jeans, long-sleeved and short-sleeved t-shirts, and sneakers. My hair is usually in a ponytail, and I rarely take time to fix my makeup. I'm frumpy."

"You may be, but you still managed to grab a live one, and he's downstairs. Put on something comfortable and go down to your man. I won't bother you. Good night, sweetie."

"Night, Grandma," I reply as I kiss her cheek. I grab a pair of cotton pajama pants, a support tank, and a short sleeve top that goes with my bottoms. My slippers are on my feet and I move into the bathroom to change and take off my makeup. With my luck, I'll forget and wake up with puffy raccoon eyes tomorrow morning. Five minutes later, I'm walking back downstairs. I notice that John is staring at me.

"Do I look okay?" I ask, suddenly self-conscious.

"You look better than okay. Only you could make those pajamas look like lingerie."

"Oh, stop, John, these aren't that great."

"I wish you would see yourself the way I do, in fact, the way most other men do. You're beautiful, Michelle."

I look down at my feet, as I was never comfortable with compliments. I mean, my mother certainly never bestowed any compliments on me and my ex-husband never had anything positive to say. "Thank you," I respond meekly.

"I got you a beer, is that okay?"

"Yeah, that's fine."

"When did you get the alarm? You didn't have that a couple of weeks ago." John asks.

"Ranger talked me into it, or should I say, rather insisted that I have one. He sent Hector over to install it without asking me. When he told me, I was angry, but he explained why I needed on. So, I now have an alarm system. It's the basic package, but it's better than nothing." The basic package only includes monitoring for breaking and entering, cameras as the doors and windows which save to an off-line server, and fire and police notification. It's enough where I feel a little safer.

We settle on the couch and put the television on. It isn't long before we are kissing. Once again, when John's hands start to roam under my shirt, I pull away.

"I'm sorry, but the kids are upstairs, and my Grandma, I mean, what if one of them comes down here."

John looks resigned. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have pushed. Look, I think it's time I head home. Will I see you this weekend?"

"I'm not sure. I have to check what the twins have on their schedules."

"I'm willing to spend the day with you chauffeuring your children around."

"I know that, and I appreciate your willingness to help, but I don't think it's a good idea to introduce you to the kids just yet. You're the first man who I have seriously dated. I don't really know how to do this."

"I get it, don't worry. Whenever you're ready, I'll be here."

"Thank you. I don't deserve you."

I walk with John to the door, where we share a gentle kiss. "Call me, please."

"I will," I tell John. When he steps on the porch, he stands at the door, waiting to hear me lock the door and set the alarm. Once he hears the beep, he walks to his car. I head to the closet in the hallway for the blanket and pillow so I can sleep on my couch. Another day over. I go to the bathroom one last time and catch a glimpse at myself in the mirror. I have two gray hairs! Where the hell did they come from? I'm too young to have any gray hair. I put the towel in the hamper and get a clean one from the linen closet when I spy my bra. It's a plain white bra with padding. No lace, no satin, no-frills, no underwire. It's functional, but not sexy. I look at my panties and, for the first time, observe that I'm wearing cotton, French cut briefs. When did I turn into my mother? When did I stop buying Victoria's Secret? God, when did I become so frumpy? It's with that depressing thought that I head to bed on my couch, alone.

It is Friday night once again, and I am spending it with my colleagues from Rangeman. Everyone was so impressed by my ability to get Joe out of the bar that they wanted to celebrate with me. So, Ranger agreed to treat everyone to dinner and at least one round at Shorty's, a pizzeria in a part of Trenton that I would never venture into on my own. I can tell you, I am grateful to arrive with my personal bodyguards.

Now, when it comes to pizza, Pino's is the best, hands down, or so I thought before tonight. Lester kept insisting that Shorty's had the best pizza in Jersey, and I outright refused to believe him. So now that the aroma of a sausage pizza is hitting my nose, I must say that my taste buds are already begging for a taste. All the guys watch as I take my first bite. As much as I try to control it, a moan escapes my throat. I swear, I just had a food orgasm. I finish chewing and look Lester in the eye.

"You were right, this is the best pizza in Jersey."

The guys hoot in appreciation before everyone digs in. I look around this establishment, and I see the scarred tables, the scratched floor, and the dated booths. The employees are tough, from the waitress who has more street smarts than book smarts to the tattooed men creating the masterpieces. They all give you the stink eye when you walk in, and I'm sure that I would not have been welcomed here without my Merry Men, as I have come to call my co-workers. However, now, I can tell that I would be accepted back here with open arms.

After we finish eating, I start to ask the guys to tell me about themselves. A few inform me that they have long-term girlfriends, a couple are in new, budding relationships, and the rest have sworn off any type of commitment. Lester though was the funniest.

"You know, every man has a different 'ideal' woman. Now some men, like Binkie, like petite women, with small asses and tits. Other men like women with large assets. Some are more into asses, and some more into tits. Some want curves, some desire no curves. So, no matter what you look like, there will be men who are attracted to you."

I had to laugh at Lester's logic. I know that I have always been self-conscious about my moderately sized chest, which was a B-cup until I had my twins. Thankfully, they stayed at a C-cup. I lost in my thoughts when I hear Manny call me.

"Earth to Michelle, where did you go?"

"I'm sorry, I got caught up in my head. What did you ask?"

"I asked, what do women prefer in their men?"

"Well, thankfully, we're pretty varied in our opinions as well. Some women want tall, dark, and handsome, some like muscular men, some like more slender men. It's really more about personality and how a guy treats us that matters, beyond the initial attraction."

"Is it true size doesn't matter?" Hal asks. I have to stop myself from spitting out the beer I just drank.

"Oh, Hal, size does matter. Any woman who tells you otherwise is trying not to hurt your feelings." I have no idea why I just said that. My hands fly to my mouth. I can only thank the two beers that I drank for clogging my filter.

"So, what's more important? Length or girth?" Bobby asks, seriously.

"I don't know why I'm telling you this, but length is the most important factor. If a guy is too short, he can't really hit the good spots. A long, thin one is better than a short, fat one. Thought, if you have length and girth, well, you're a woman's dream. However, you can be too long and too fat. That size, though, is completely dependent on the size of the women. Most petite women can't handle very long or fat ones, because it's uncomfortable. From what most of my friends say, seven to nine inches is the sweet zone." Several of the guys high five, including Lester. "The next factor is staying power. You could be the largest man on Earth, but if you can't last, you aren't worth it."

"I take it your ex had staying power since you have twins." Vince states.

"Well, not really. Once I discovered that he preferred to be called 'Dickie' instead of Richard that should have been a sign. I mean, any man that uses that name must be compensating."

"I don't understand," Vince says.

"My ex-husband isn't the father of my twins. He married me despite the fact that I was pregnant. That was the one and only chivalrous thing he did."

Hal asks, "How old are they?"

"They just turned nine a few months ago, near Thanksgiving." Shit. I quickly glance at Ranger who is looking directly at me. I see him mentally counting back, observing the moment he realizes that he is the father of my children. I look away, turning towards Vince who's telling us about his twin brother. As much as I try to enjoy myself, I feel on edge for the rest of the night. I don't know how Ranger is going to react, I only hope that I still have a job come Monday. About thirty minutes later, a couple of the guys start to leave, since they have the early shift tomorrow. I use their exit as my excuse to head home as well. John once again drives me home. Only this time, he doesn't come in. What have I done?