I pulled up in front of Joe's house on Slater Street and put the Mercedes in park.

"Any chance I could talk you into a ride to Rangeman?" Joe asked, unbuckling. "I need to change clothes, but I'm ready otherwise."

"Sure," I said, glancing at the car clock. I had plenty of time before I had commitments at work. "Take your time."

Morelli got out of the car and turned to me.

"I hate to ask this, but any chance you'd take B… B…. Bob for a walk?" he asked.

"Anything for Bob," I said, shutting off the car.

I waited on Morelli's doorstep while he went inside, and a short time later, he handed a leashed Bob out to me. Bob went full wooly mammoth mode, jumping up on me and knocking me flat on my ass. He gave me wet kisses with his huge, pink tongue while doing his happy-dog dance over me.

"Sorry," Joe said, pushing Bob away and helping me to my feet. "He's missed you."

"I can tell," I said, straightening my dress and brushing the dirt off my ass. "Let's go, Bob."

Morelli handed me a massive plastic poop bag, and I rolled my eyes.

"Really? Wouldn't a snow shovel be more appropriate?" I asked in a snarky tone.

"It's in the garage if you want it."

Morelli went back inside, and Bob and I hit the pavement, my heels clicking with each stride. He smelled everything in sight, including, but not limited to, the sidewalk, flowers, vehicles, an abandoned white dog turd on old Mr. Geary's lawn, a picket fence, and a statue of the Virgin Mary at the corner of Mr. and Mrs. Rubiano's lot. We walked around the block, and Bob finally decided to hunch in Mrs. Martinez's yard.

In this moment, it occurred to me why people chose pet dogs like miniature poodles or chihuahuas. Their poops were tiny, nearly microscopic. You could easily sneak away from the poop after it had fallen to the ground, feigning ignorance if a property owner yelled at you. Easy peasy. Bob's poops fell somewhere between elephant and King Kong in size. They could not be ignored. The desire to run away and leave Bob's steaming dog feces laying in the yard was strong, but I fought the urge and did the responsible thing. I picked up the poop in the bag and dropped it in the garbage can across the street, trying not to gag too much as I did.

We walked a few more blocks before circling back to Morelli's small front yard. I sat on the front stoop with my bare legs sprawled out in front of me and scratched Bob behind the ears, telling him he'd been a very good boy. He laid on his side, stretching out to enjoy the warm sun and affection.

Morelli popped out of the house a few minutes later dressed in black fatigues with a gym bag slung over his shoulder. He thanked me for walking Bob and locked him in house.

"Ready?" I asked.

"Yes," Morelli said, putting his house key in his pocket.

"I may hit a drive through on the way back to Rangeman. I'm not sure I can do turkey on whole wheat for lunch. Is that okay with you?"

"Absolutely," Morelli said, buckling into the Mercedes. "I've had enough of those this week myself."

I hit the road, and in ten minutes, we were in the drive through line at Cluck in a Bucket. The impaled chicken was flying high above Trenton, spinning for all it was worth, and some poor schmuck was dressed in a Mr. Clucky costume handing out coupons to customers walking into the store, no doubt sweating his balls off on this hot May day.

"What would you like?" I asked Joe, pulling my wallet out of my messenger bag.

"Fried chicken sandwich with fries and a Coke."

I placed Joe's order and added a Double Clucky Burger with cheese, plus fries and a Coke for myself. I began to pull ahead and heard honking behind me. I glanced in my rearview mirror and saw Lula in her red Firebird. I waved, and she waved back. Seconds later, my phone rang. I answered it using hands-free Bluetooth.

"Hey."

"Hey yourself, girlfriend," said Lula. "What are you doing up there?"

"Ordering food," I said, stupidly. "How'd you recognize me?"

"Girl, how could I not recognize your hair? Hot car, by the way. Who's with you? Is it Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome?"

"Joe is with me. We're grabbing lunch after a funeral. What are you doing?" I asked.

"Oh lord, that man is fine. Are you back with him now? Why is he in your car? If you're done with him and still with Ranger, can I have him?"

"Easy there, killer. You're on hands-free speakerphone."

"Hi, Lula," Joe added awkwardly.

"Well damn. That got real weird real fast," Lula huffed.

I pulled forward, told Lula to hold on for a minute, and handed the man at the cash register window money, paying for whatever Lula had ordered in addition to our food.

"Okay, I'm back," I said.

"After some thought, I stand by what I said in what I believed was the privacy of a phone call with Stephanie," Lula said. "And I'm not even mad about it."

"What?" I asked, not understanding.

"If you're done with Joe, I'll take him," Lula reminded.

"Wow," Joe said, a humorous grin on his face. "Thanks, Lula. I'm honored. I'll keep that in mind." He gave me a wide-eyed, deer-in-the-headlights look and shook his head 'no.'

"You bet, honey," Lula said. "Oh man, you paid for my food? Thanks, girlfriend!"

"You're welcome," I said. "What are you up to today?"

"Helping Vinnie set-up our new storefront on Hamilton," Lula said. "It's crunch time!"

I took the soda cups from the drive-thru attendant, handing one to Joe and placing mine in the cup holder.

"So what's this big entrepreneurial project you two have going?" I asked, curiosity getting the best of me.

"I can't say, but you're invited to our grand opening tomorrow night. Be there at six. We're at ten fifteen Hamilton Avenue."

"Sure," I said as I grabbed our food bag. "Wouldn't miss it."

"Wear something hot, and bring your Latino eye candy," Lula said. "We could use some good lookin' people to spice the event up. You can come too, Joe, honey! I could use a date."

"I'll think about it," Joe said, rightfully hesitant to commit to anything involving Lula's shenanigans.

"See you then. Have a good day, Lula."

"Right back atcha, sista."

I pulled out of the Cluck in a Bucket and navigated the busy mid-day traffic, shoving French fries in my mouth.

"You two are an odd pair," Morelli said, smearing mustard on his sandwich. "I don't know how you stay friends with her."

"When your life is as screwed up as mine, being friends with Lula is easy. Everybody is too busy staring at Lula to notice what a mess I am," I admitted, shoving more fries in my mouth.

"I could see that," Morelli admitted.

Morelli and I parted ways in the elevator, with me going to the apartment while he went to the fifth-floor control room. I changed into gym clothes for my personal training appointment later, then weighed my options. I could go to my fancy new office and get some work done for Ximena. I could do work on my laptop in the apartment. I could ride around with Lester looking for bad guys. Or I could take a nap.

If I was being honest, nothing but the nap was really an option. I was experiencing cry hangover from the funeral, and I'd eaten a truck-load of carbs at Cluck in a Bucket. Plus, my stomach wasn't feeling great.

I flopped into the bed, taking a moment to appreciate Ranger's extraordinary bed sheets before unlocking my phone.

I had one text from my Grandma, reminding me that my mother was a 'piece of work' and to 'ignore her nonsense.'

I rolled my eyes and continued scrolling.

I had a variety of work e-mails that I chose to ignore.

I had two personal e-mails—one advertising 'male pen1s enhancement" and another advertising 'buy three, get three free' hand soaps at Bath and Body Works. I deleted the first, then I clicked on the ad for hand soap, put six in my shopping cart, and checked out, mailing them to myself at Rangeman. Stephanie Plum: domestic goddess.

I decided to text Ranger to check in next.

How's it going? I texted.

A few minutes later, my phone buzzed with is response.

Loading mom into the Cayenne now. I'll be home around dinnertime.

I texted back. Great news. Looking forward to seeing you tonight.

I laid down my phone but was surprised when it buzzed a minute later. It was Ranger again.

Do you have plans next weekend?

Next weekend? Most of the time, I wasn't sure what I was doing the next day, much less next weekend.

Before I could respond, my phone buzzed again.

It is Memorial Day weekend.

No plans, I responded.

My phone buzzed with his response a few moments later.

Great. Now you do. See you tonight.

A small thrill coursed through me. I had plans! Sure, I had no idea what those plans were, but if they involved Ranger, they had to be good.

I pulled the covers over myself, put the pillow over my face, and within minutes, it was sleepytime for Stephanie.

I woke up tangled in the covers with my phone ringing from somewhere amidst the tangled bedding. I fought my way out of the covers and dug through them desperately in search of my phone. It stopped ringing before I found it, and I let out an angry sigh, flopping onto my back. A few seconds later, it began ringing again, and I continued my frantic search.

"Hello?" I answered breathlessly.

"You're late."

"What?" I asked sleepily, glancing at the bedside clock. It read 1:35 PM. "Oh crap!" I said, hanging up the phone. I shoved my feet into my shoes, grabbed my key fob, and sprinted for the elevator.

I raced into the gym and found Rodriguez standing with his back against the wall near the door. He didn't look happy.

"Sorry," I said, setting my fob by the door.

"Gimme ten pushups for every minute you were late," Rodriguez announced, his tone cold. "By my calculations, that's seventy."

I nearly choked on my own tongue. Twenty-five pushups just about sent me into heart failure. Seventy?

I got into a plank position and started, counting with each push-up. By thirty, my arms were shaking and beads of sweat were dripping down my nose onto the mat. At forty-four, my arms gave out, and I collapsed onto the mat, breathing heavily.

"Com'on, Plum," Rodriguez said. "Let's do this."

I wiped my face with the hem of my racerback tank and got back into pushup position, squeezing out another eight reps before my arms gave out again.

"No excuses," Rodriguez taunted. "Move it, Sugar Plum Fairy."

"Would you shut the fuck up?" I shouted angrily on my knees. "I'm trying!"

I got back into plank position and finished the seventy push-ups with shaking arms, screaming ribs, a stitch in my side, and tears streaming down my face. I collapsed to the floor, and Rodriguez threw a gym towel at me.

"Don't be late again. I hate it when people waste my time."

I wiped my face with the towel and stood, trying to gather my composure and catch my breath.

I completed some running ladders on the treadmill before doing strength and agility exercises as directed. Rodriguez finished my torture session at 2: 25 PM, and I headed straight for the apartment to shower.

I fobbed my way in and found Ella vacuuming the apartment.

"Hi," I said, waving to her.

She shut off the vacuum and greeted me with a friendly wave.

"My apologies, dear. I don't want to disturb you."

"You're totally fine. Stay—you're welcome any time. I appreciate all that you do to keep this place running like a well-oiled machine," I told her. "I'm just headed for the shower."

I dumped my key fob onto the sideboard and high-tailed it for the shower. The bathroom had been freshly cleaned, and dirty towels had been replaced with fresh, white, fluffy ones. God bless Ella.

I took a fast shower, dried my hair, and reapplied my makeup. I dressed in black skinny slacks, an eggplant-colored v-neck blouse, black stiletto heels, and a skinny gold belt. I clipped a portion of my curls back behind my ear with a gold clip and checked out my reflection in the mirror. My face was still a bit of a wreck, but at least most of the scratches and scrapes were covered on the rest of my body.

"Why, don't you look nice!" Ella exclaimed as I entered the kitchen.

"Thanks," I said, blushing. I retrieved a bottle of water from the refrigerator and took a long sip.

"Is there anything I can get for you?" asked Ella. "Any regular groceries you'd like me to keep on hand? Toiletries you prefer? Makeup or personal care products that are getting low?"

"I'm really not picky," I admitted, digging a few mixed nuts out of a container in the pantry. "As long as I have toilet paper, hot water, and peanut butter, I'm good."

"Alright, dear. If I find some items I think you might enjoy, is it okay if I bring them in?"

"Of course, but please don't go to any trouble for me," I said, placing the nuts in Rex's food bowl. "You already do entirely too much for me."

Rex scurried out of his soup can, shoved the nuts into his cheeks, twitched his whiskers in thanks, and scurried back into his can.

"It's my pleasure," said Ella with a smile. "I enjoy my job."

"Thanks, Ella."

I took my messenger bag and key fob, and I headed for my office.

It was after six o'clock when Ranger popped his head into my office.

"Hey," I said, stretching my arms over my head, my muscles tired and aching after my workout. "How's your mom?"

"Relieved to be home," he said, sitting in a club chair. "Ximena is going to stay with her tonight while she's in Newark on business to make sure she's comfortable with her colostomy."

I nodded understanding and saved the document I'd been working on for Ximena.

"How was your day?" Ranger asked.

"Pretty uneventful," I admitted. "I went to the funeral. Drove Morelli around. Walked Bob. Ate lunch. Napped."

"Napped?" Ranger asked, looking like he was thinking about smiling. "What am I paying you for again?" he joked.

"I've seen you nap, Mr. Judgmental," I scolded, shutting down my computer. "Anyway, yes. I napped. Then I had training with Rodriguez, followed by a shower, then a few hours in my office."

"You look great," Ranger said, scanning my outfit. "Would you like to go out for dinner?"

"If you want," I said, shouldering my messenger bag. "I'm game for whatever."

"Whatever covers a lot of territory," Ranger said, taking my hand and pulling me close to his body.

"I trust you," I admitted, breathing in his unique Ranger smell.

Ten minutes later, I had exchanged my messenger bag for a small black crossbody purse, Ranger had freshened up, and we were settled into his Porsche 911 Turbo. I relaxed back into the luxurious leather seat. As Ranger drove out of the garage, I took a moment to evaluate my life.

In the past week, I'd gone from living in an economy model apartment to an upscale, designer penthouse. I had a real job with benefits. I had a Cuban god as a boyfriend, and not only was he smart, strong, and sexy—he was sweet, thoughtful, caring, and generous. Despite the untimely demise of my Jeep, my Toyota Camry had survived the week, and I had also acquired a sexy Mercedes. And despite my family being a real disaster, Ranger's parents not only liked me, they had openly endorsed a marriage between us. Was I a lucky girl or what?

"Babe," Ranger admonished, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. "You're smiling, and you just giggled like a schoolgirl. What's up?"

I straightened in my seat and elbowed him playfully.

"I'm good," I said cheerfully. "Very good, in fact."

"Yeah?" he asked, seeming pleasantly surprised.

"Just thinking about how great things are," I admitted sheepishly. "I'm trying to ignore the five thousand ways I could screw things up."

"Don't think like that, Babe."

"Banishing it from my mind. Pinky swear," I said, crossing myself.

A few minutes later, Ranger pulled up to the valet parking entrance of a tall downtown building I'd never paid much attention to before in Trenton. He put the Porsche in park and climbed out, speaking to the valet. He handed the man cash, then walked to the passenger door. He opened my door, then extended his hand to me.

"Ready?" he asked, a sparkle in his eyes.

I nodded, unbuckling myself and allowing him to help me out of the car. He placed a hand on the small of my back and escorted me into the glass and marble lobby of the building. We crossed to the elevator, drawing attention from several people waiting in the lobby. I liked to believe it was because we looked like such a handsome couple, but if I'm being honest, it was probably because we both had massive facial bruising. That tends to draw unnecessary attention.

Ranger pressed the 'up' button and held me close while we waited for the elevator to arrive.

"Where are we going?" I asked curiously.

"Dinner," he said, laughter in his voice.

I rolled my eyes, and he gave me a full-blown smile.

"Always the man of mystery."

The elevator arrived, and we stepped into its mirrored chamber. He pressed the button for the top floor, and we ascended quickly, the pull of the elevator making my stomach flutter. The doors opened, and we stepped into a marble and glass lobby decorated in gold and red accents. A sign lit with track lighting reading "Mario's" hung on one wall.

"Wow," I breathed, wrapping my fingers around Ranger's arm. "What is this place?"

"I occasionally bring clients here for meetings," Ranger said. "I haven't had the opportunity to dine with a woman here before, though."

He leaned in and gave me a soft kiss, and I returned by wrapping my arms around his neck.

"Thanks for taking me on a new adventure," I said.

"Any time."

A man in a fancy, tailored suit walked towards us in the lobby.

"Mr. Manoso, so good to see you!" he exclaimed. "Your table is prepared."

We followed the man into a dimly lit private dining room, where we were seated at a round table. Two waiters immediately scurried to our table, one placing water goblets before us and the other showing Ranger a bottle of wine. Ranger nodded his approval at the wine selection, the bottle was uncorked, and the server poured us each a glass of the red liquid, depositing the uncorked bottle into a bucket of ice.

It occurred to me that this was an extraordinarily fancy and probably an expensive place to dine. I'd never experienced anything like this before. Was I dressed nicely enough for this? Would the menu be in English? Visions of the movie "Pretty Woman" with Julia Roberts's fork struggles came to mind, and I swallowed back panic.

"Relax, Babe," Ranger said, his tone light. "This is supposed to be fun."

"Fun," I repeated, my tone conveying the stress I felt.

"Have a drink," he suggested, taking a menu into his hands. "May I order for you, or would you like to select your own dishes?"

I sipped my wine, enjoying its bold flavor. It wasn't too dry, but it wasn't too sweet either. It was perfect.

"You've got my permission," I said, relaxing back into my tufted velvet seat. "But," I added, "if dessert is part of this deal, I get to choose."

Ranger laughed lightly, and I couldn't help but smile in response. He seemed calm, happy, and at ease. I hoped having his mother in her own home and on the mend had relieved significant stress from his life. This wasn't a Ranger I got the opportunity to see often, and I really liked it.

A waiter returned to our table and deposited a plate filled with fancy breads, softened herb butter, and olive oil dip in the center of our table.

"May I take your order?" he asked politely, removing a slim black electronic tablet from his jacket pocket.

Ranger ordered several courses, most of which I didn't recognize, and the man tapped the order into the tablet. He topped off my wine glass before strolling back out of the dining room.

"The bread looks incredible," I said, poking around on the plate. "Anything specific you'd recommend?"

Ranger shook his head. "I don't usually eat the bread," he admitted. "Try them all."

I selected a slice of bread that had a crusty, herb-infused exterior and a soft center. I smeared a small section of herb butter onto it and broke it in half, setting half the slice on my bread plate. I bit into it, and I moaned with pleasure as the yeasty richness of the bread mingled with the Italian herbs and creamy butter on my tongue.

"That is amazing," I sighed, closing my eyes as I savored the flavors.

"Babe."

Ranger's eyes dilated fully black, and he looked like he was thinking about taking this show back to the apartment before dinner even started.

"You've got to try this," I said, holding the bread across the table for him to sample.

He looked from me to the bread, then back to me, no doubt debating whether to let these dirty, filthy, unnecessary carbohydrates enter his body. He finally relented, taking the bread gently into his mouth and, in the process, my fingers, too. He gently sucked my fingers before slowly sliding them out of his mouth, and I ruined my panties as his eyes caught mine, my breath hitching in my chest.

"You're right," he said. "It's excellent."

To my surprise, he helped himself to a slice, but he avoided the butter and oil.

Next, the waiter brought us each a small dinner salad on a white plate with a silver rim and a plate of crab cakes. The base of the salad was baby spinach, and it was drizzled with a balsamic vinaigrette. The salad was topped with candied pecans, ripe red raspberries, and feta cheese.

"Beautiful," I breathed, looking at the incredible dishes set before me.

I began working through my salad, and Ranger enjoyed a crab cake.

"So, next weekend, huh? What are our plans?" I asked Ranger.

"Do you think you could stand not knowing?" he asked, a playful gleam in his eye.

"No," I admitted, my shoulders slumping.

"How about I give you a basic framework, and I'll fill in the specifics when the time comes?" he suggested.

I had to admit, this side of Ranger was playful and fun. As much as I hated surprises, I was curious to see what type of surprise Ranger had planned for a weekend together.

"Deal."

"We'll be going out of town for four days and three nights," he said. "The climate will be about the same as here, or maybe a bit cooler. Pack casual clothing and a swimsuit. We will be flying, so don't forget your ID."

I stared at him, waiting for more information. He simply smiled and relaxed back into his seat.

"Really? That's all I get?"

"Yes."

"Jeez! You're stingy!" I exclaimed, and he beamed in return.

Next, the waiter brought out two dinner plates. He set my plate first, which contained a perfectly-cooked chicken breast atop a bed of handmade pasta with a creamy garlic sauce and a side of broccolini. Ranger's plate was set next. It was filled with beautifully arranged shrimp, roasted vegetables, and some type of cabbage dish. It all looked like it belonged in a magazine.

"How did you know about this place?" I asked Ranger as I sliced into my chicken.

"We have the security contract for this building," Ranger said, spearing a shrimp onto his fork and eating it. "I try to support my clients' businesses when I can. Speaking of clients' businesses…."

His voice trailed off, and he reached into the pocket of his dress slacks, pulling out a small black velvet jewelry box. In response, I nearly choked to death on my chicken.

"Babe," Ranger said, the concern in his tone apparent. "Are you okay?"

I stood, staring at him in panic. I nearly ran out of the room, but I was frozen to the floor in shock.

"It's not a ring, if that's what you're having a panic attack about," he said, looking around to make sure we didn't have an audience for the scene I'd inadvertently created.

I took some deep, cleansing breaths and tried to slow my pounding heart.

"Sorry," I apologized, sitting back in my chair. "You caught me off guard."

"No problem," he said, a hint of nervousness in his usually calm voice. "I didn't mean to give you the wrong idea. I am sorry, too."

"I'm good. You're good. We're all good," I said nervously, taking a sip of water. "You were saying?"

He gave me a nervous smirk. "I saw these in a client's business, and I thought they would look beautiful on you."

He opened the box to expose a pair of diamond stud earrings. I was guessing they were approximately one carat each, and light reflected off their perfectly cut facets. They were stunning but understated, a classic accessory for any woman.

"Wow," I breathed, studying the jewelry. "They're gorgeous."

"They're yours," he said, delicately placing the velvet box in my palm. "I hope they brighten your life for years to come."

I replaced my cheap nickel-plated cubic zirconia earrings with the diamonds.

"I don't know if I've ever received something so beautiful," I admitted sheepishly. "Thank you."

I extended my hand across the table, and Ranger took it in his, squeezing it.

"I enjoy showering you with nice things," Ranger said, his brown eyes soft and affectionate. "I've spent a lot of years working eighty hours a week to establish a successful business, and it's an honor to finally have someone to share it with."

"I love you," I said. "But I hope you know you don't have to go to all this trouble for me. Tonight has been wonderful and romantic… but you know I'm fine with pizza and beer, right?" I asked.

"I know," Ranger said, taking a sip of his wine with a smile.

We finished our dinner, and I was so stuffed, I thought I might have to unbutton my pants.

"Oh! I almost forgot. Lula invited us to her grand opening tomorrow night. Will you go with me?" I asked Ranger.

"What kind of grand opening?" he asked skeptically.

"I don't know," I admitted. "But she seemed excited. She wanted us to look sexy."

Ranger looked like he'd rather jump off a bridge than attend any function planned by Lula. I'd seen Ranger jump off a bridge before, and truth be told, he might have enjoyed it.

"Okay," he said hesitantly, "but only because you're my date."

"Thank you!" I exclaimed, clapping my hands together. "Who knows? Maybe it will be fun. We could coordinate outfits."

"Don't push it," Ranger said, raising an eyebrow.

"May we tempt you with dessert?" the waiter asked as he collected our plates.

"Yes," said Ranger, gesturing in my direction. "The lady will be selecting our desserts tonight."

"Is dessert to-go an option?" I asked hesitantly, and Ranger gave me a two-hundred-watt smile. "I'm stuffed."

"Yes, ma'am," the waiter said, scurrying away with our plates.

He returned quickly with a rolling cart covered in plates of ever dessert imaginable—cakes, pies, cheesecakes, hand-dipped chocolates, and more.

I selected a piece of lemon raspberry torte and, for good measure, added a small plate of chocolates. The waiter praised my choices and took them to the kitchen to be boxed up.

"Do you mind if I use the little bounty hunter's room?" I asked Ranger.

"It's down the hall to the left," he said, pointing me in the right direction.

I drained my wine glass and stood.

"Thanks. Be right back."

I found the bathroom and quickly did my business. I washed my hands, reapplied my lipstick, and tamed a few rogue curls back into the small gold hair clip.

A woman came out of the other bathroom stall as I fussed with my hair. She was wearing a tight-fitting little black dress that showed a lot of cleavage with strappy Louboutin heels. Her hair was perfectly curled into loose, sexy waves. Her makeup was flawless, her eyes lined with tight black lines and glue-on lashes. Her jewelry probably cost more than all of my personal belongings combined. She gave me a once-over as she approached the sink, looking disgusted that she had to share the bathroom with a lowly creature like me. She washed her hands quickly, dried them on a silky black towel, and hurried out of the bathroom.

A thought crossed my mind, and I struggled to push it away. That woman was exactly the kind of woman I could see Ranger with. The kind of woman he probably deserved. She clearly had class and money, and she would have looked stunning on his arm. I felt my self-confidence fall a few notches as I took in my Target slacks, Payless heels, Nordstrom Rack blouse, and Dollar Tree hair clip in the full-length mirror. Who was I kidding? I could never be like that woman. Being in a fancy place like this made me feel like a fraud.

I tossed my hand towel in the wicker hamper and exited the bathroom, finding the woman flirting with Ranger in the hall. Ranger was holding the bag of desserts, his face locked into a cold stare. He was doing his best to ignore the woman. I was impressed at his focus, and honestly, the fact that he was ignoring her warmed my heart. He really did love me. I gave a small laugh that caught his attention, and he looked relieved to see me.

"You'll have to excuse me," he said to the woman politely. "You ready, Babe?" he asked as I approached.

"Yes," I said, allowing him to wrap his arm around me.

Without warning, he pushed me into the wall, and his lips connected with mine. His kiss was sexy and passionate, and he grabbed a handful of my ass with his free hand. My head spun with endorphins, and electricity ran from the roots of my hair to the tips of my toes. It occurred to me that he was making a show of it to get rid of the woman, but I didn't mind. I had to admit—I was enjoying myself.

By the time Ranger let me come up for air, my world was spinning and the woman had left.

"Let's finish this at home," Ranger breathed into my ear, sending a shiver down my spine.

I nodded agreement, and we left the restaurant arm in arm.