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

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Chapter 6

SPOV

My back is killing me, and I reach around to rub it. We're at thirty-seven weeks and heading into the home stretch. Every day moves me closer to getting this baby out of me, which I'm looking forward to. The downside is that every day moves me closer to having to give birth, which I am definitely not looking forward to. I don't know what I was thinking, but I made the unfortunate choice to watch a few birthing videos online. Yeah, shouldn't have done that.

I was on the couch staring into nothing when Ranger came in; he glanced at the computer screen and took the laptop away from me with a muttered "Babe." By the time he came back with a bottle of water I was feeling a little more normal. We stared at each other for a minute before I blurted out, "I've changed my mind, someone else can have the baby!"

His mouth twitched, but he wisely said nothing, just gathered me up into his lap for a hug. With my face buried in his neck and his hand rubbing my belly, I started calming down. "Make sure they give me drugs. Seriously. Maybe drugs for the both of us so you forget that, too."

The only response I got was a kiss on the temple. We both sat there, soaking up the quietness and lost in our own thoughts. Well, I was lost in thought. Ranger was probably planning the next ten years and single handedly running the business through ESP while dealing with my freak-out two floors away.

Since then, Ranger's been a little more attentive than normal, which is saying something; he's been extra touchy-feely since Jiffy Pop did the popping thing. That man loves to rub my belly and run his fingers along those three freaking stretch marks on the underside. I've been religiously greasing myself up like a pig, and I still ended up with them.

It's been a couple months since he told me the stories about his friends. It was unexpected but it feels like it brought us closer together. He's a little freer with tidbits of information when we're alone, but he'll never be a Chatty-Cathy. He does more talking to the baby, like his morning chat is a catharsis, a chance to get it all out.

Even if I'm awake, I pretend to be asleep when he talks to the baby just so he won't clam up. I can tell his mood by what kind of life advice he gives on any given morning. Some of it's funny, like if there's a mouse, get out of Tank's way or if you need to shut Lester up, ask him about the Donald Duck incident. Those are good days. Most of it's practical; things like keep your word, pay attention to your car's maintenance schedule, and don't forget important days. Every now and then he'll throw one in that's unexpected, like this morning when he told Jiffy to never give flowers as an apology when you've messed up because they'll start associating flowers with bad stuff instead of happy times. Those are the normal days.

The advice that catches me the most off-guard though, are the things that I know are attached to memories that haunt him. Always note the exits in a room. Pack more ammo than you think you'll need. Leaders don't get to have a bad day. Make sure you have a handcuff key on your person. Trust your back-up but keep an eye on them. There's always an extra rub across my tummy before and after the bad stuff. No details, just advice and rubs. On those days, I stay in the office so he can see me and know we're ok.

Joe has given us a wide berth. My short jail stay earned me a voicemail box full of messages, most of which I deleted. Ella had a pineapple-upside down cake waiting for me by the time I got home. Once the endorphins were satisfied, I listened to the few messages that mattered. Mare wanted the real scoop, while Lula and Connie both sent "atta girl!" messages. My dad asked if I wanted to borrow his Buick again and grandma offered to start a rumor that I left Joe "because he was a dud in the sack."

Curiously absent was a message, or twenty messages, from my mother. She showed up at Rangeman two days later, asking to talk to me. I wasn't in the mood to get another lecture and have it on camera for everyone else to hear, so I reluctantly invited her up to the apartment. After a quick tour, she admitted that the penthouse was "nice" and not what she expected. A lot of the floor had been used for storage since Ranger didn't need much room for just himself; we doubled the size of the apartment by adding 2 bedrooms, a bathroom, and an area to be used as a playroom.

I wasn't sure what to do after the tour, but she started the ball rolling with, "You don't come by much anymore."

"I didn't want the pressure after I ended things with Joe or have to justify my choices."

She gave a little harumph, stating, "I just want you to be happy! You act like I'm some meddling harpy that doesn't care about that."

"You mean like how instead of congratulating us on our marriage, you disrespected us by pulling out the pictures of my wedding to Dickie?"

Her hands are wringing together, and she stops as she looks down at them. "I shouldn't have done that. I just didn't understand why you wouldn't want to get married surrounded by family."

"We just wanted something quiet that was special for us. Neither of us like being the center of attention."

Her eyebrows hiked up to her hairline, and I wondered if that's how I look when I'm wearing my shocked face.

"I know how that sounds. Just because I used to end up on the news doesn't mean I liked it!"

That got a small chuckle from both of us. I noticed her looking at my belly and asked, "Why did you tell Angie Morelli about the baby after you promised to keep quiet? Did you think we were joking about it being a safety issue?"

She sighed. "I really didn't mean to. She had called me to tell me how Joe was heartbroken that you had run off and married Ranger but was hoping you'd change your mind and I said something like it was too late for that and he really wouldn't leave you now. She guessed what I meant and ran with it. I'm sorry, it wasn't my intention to tell anybody until you were ready."

She really did look remorseful, but I hated the message she sent out, that Ranger was only with me for the baby. I could feel my blood pressure rising and decided it would be a good time to practice the Lamaze breathing that Mare was teaching me. I was surprised to feel her reach out and lay a hand over mine. Neither of us said anything, my breathing the only sound in the room.

When I opened my eyes, she had a small smile on her face as she looked at a picture of Ranger and me on the end table. "I never thought I'd see you like this. Married, with a baby on the way, and happy about all of it."

"I am happy."

"I know. I can see the way you two look at each other. He's not going anywhere. Neither are you."

It made me happy that she could at least understand that. "How many phone calls have you gotten about Joe arresting me."

She pats my hand. "Only a few. I just told them that that busted nose had been a long time coming, and he deserved it. People seem more interested in how Angie Morelli is coping."

I didn't know what to say to that, to my mom defending me. She reached into her purse and pulled out a so new it still sparkled cell phone. "Can you help me set this up? I understand how to make a call and answer it, but that's it."

That startled a laugh out of me. "You finally got a cell phone? What happened to the house phone being all you needed?"

"I canceled the house phone."

"You what!"

Her cheeks pinked up a bit and she looked down at the cell phone box still in her hand. "When I complained that you don't come over anymore, your father pointed out that if you couldn't trust me, then I probably wouldn't see you or the baby. I don't want to miss my grandchild's life because you don't trust me or you're afraid I'll say something that will hurt them."

I truly didn't know what to say to that. When I remained silent, she added, "Honestly, I'm kind of enjoying the quiet."

That got me laughing and before I knew it, I admitted, "I don't want you to miss out on Jiffy Pop's life, either."

"Jiffy Pop?"

"My stomach did the sudden pop thing."

"You used to love that stuff when you were a kid."

Huh. "I don't remember that."

"You and your grandfather would make it when you went to their house, and he'd drop Red Hots into the bowl to make them melt. You always came home with red, sticky hands."

I do have a vague memory of that, one of only a few with Grandpa Plum. In that moment, I knew that I wanted the baby to have memories with all their grandparents. An hour later, Ranger found us still sitting on the couch, debating which apps would be good for her. If he thought coming home and finding his mother-in-law in the apartment was weird, he didn't show it. I think the fact that we were laughing let him know that things were good.

When she was ready to go, she turned to Ranger. "I hope that we can all get together for dinner soon. It doesn't have to be at the house or in the Burg. It might be nice to let someone else cook for a change!"

We agreed, and Ranger walked her back down to her car. When he returned, he looked contemplative.

He didn't say anything, so I had to prod. "What's that look for?"

"Was there an alien abduction?"

The laugh from me was unexpected and Jiffy Pop kicked a few times. "I think she realized that family was more important than having the latest gossip."

Since then, things with her have been a lot better and we've met them for dinner a few times, even meeting up with Ranger's parents. Outside of the Burg, my mom was surprisingly relaxed and easy going. Maybe the Burg brought out the worst in all of us.

The pain in my back is dulling, but still annoyingly there. Getting off the elevator, I'm glad it's a Friday and the workday is almost done. Zip and I just completed a walk-through for a McMansion and all I want to do is kick off my shoes and put my feet up.

"Beautiful!"

I take a step back, wondering why he's waiting at the elevator for me. He steers me to the conference room and steps back with a flourish. The men are waiting for me with a cake and a small mountain of presents. My attention is fully on the cake, and I miss that Ranger is standing in the doorway behind me. He places a hand on my bump and a kiss on my neck before leaning close to my ear.

"The guys wanted to do this for you, Babe. They'll be more relaxed if they're not afraid to say the wrong thing to you in front of me, so I scheduled a consultation out of the office. I'll be back at four."

With another quick kiss for me and rub for Jiffy, he's gone. I'm sad he's going to miss it but I understand his reasoning. The cake is delicious and Les insists we need to play a shower game. For the record, watching a bunch of big blindfolded badass mercenaries dig through rice for tiny clothespins is hilarious and I'm pretty sure Jiffy Pop learned a lot of new words that will get them in trouble.

The gifts range from the very practical and necessary case of diapers and spit-up cloths to whimsical onesies with things like, Mommy just wanted a backrub, Argh, wipe my booty, and Little Mother Sucker on them. I don't even have to read the tag to know that the giant inflatable ball pit is from Lester. He's completely unrepentant, calling it a tactical combat training simulator. Apparently, that will keep Ranger from killing him.

The last gift makes my jaw drop. Several of the men got together and came up with (already approved) plans for a play loft with a climbing wall and giant slide to be built in the new playroom. Lester pouts a little, but finally concedes that it's an awesome gift. I know that Ramon is very good at sketching out quick little doodles and portraits, so I'm encouraged that he'll be painting the mural on the wall behind the loft.

The shower has been fun, and it's nice that the guys want to be involved. It seems like all I had to do to be accepted here was punch a cop. I wish I'd known that years ago!

When I stand up to head upstairs for a short nap, a pain shoots across my abdomen. I try and hide it but grabbing my still sore back catches everyone's attention. Bobby is at my side in seconds, asking if I'm ok. Another contraction keeps me from answering and the room goes silent for ten seconds.

"Operation Jiffy-Pop Drop is a go!"

"What? Wait. No. No dropping!" I'm horrified that Lester has given my birth plan an actual mission-style name.

No one's paying attention to me and almost every man is rushing around as Les and Bobby yell out orders. Before I can wrap my head around it and react, I'm on the elevator and then carefully walked to an SUV, helped inside, and then escorted, presidential style, to the hospital.

By the time Ranger comes through the stairwell door on the labor and delivery floor, we're all red-faced and slightly embarrassed. My 'team' has been alerted to Ranger's impending arrival and told to stay put. Coming up to me and crouching down, he asks, "Babe, are you ok? Why are you out here in the hall and not in a room?"

"Braxton-Hicks."

You can see the wheel's turning before the 100-watt smile forms. "False alarm."

"False alarm." Rangeman essentially stormed the castle just to be told to go home.

Lester tries to put a positive spin on it. "Practice maneuvers are where you work out all the kinks. At least we know the Jiffy Pop Drop protocol works!"

I roll my eyes. Yeah, it worked. Maybe next time I'll get a baby out of it.