Chapter 12

"Are you sure about this?" I called out. Then I leaned in close to the bathroom mirror to give my lashes one more swipe of mascara.

"Yes," Ranger replied. Ever the master of patience and all things Zen, his tone didn't relay the fact that he'd answered that same question a dozen times over the past half hour. "You'd meet them eventually anyway."

"I would?"

Quiet for a beat. "Anita wouldn't have kept quiet about meeting you, and the rest of them would've clamored to get the chance. You've been the primary topic of conversation today in the family group text. They're excited to meet you."

That was flattering, I supposed. Also, surprising - who would've guessed that Ranger had a family group text?

One last look in he mirror, then I tucked the mascara away into my makeup bag. I was as ready as I was going to get. I stepped out of the bathroom to meet Ranger, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting. He had assured me that the thing with his family tonight was very casual. He was still in his usual black t-shirt and cargoes. His only concession to the occasion was the loss of his gun belt, though I was sure he still had his Glock on him somewhere.

I watched his gaze sweep over me, and I went hands to hips. "What do you think? Do I pass muster?"

"With flying colors," he assured me.

"Can you give me the rundown again?"

"The party is at my parents' house. It'll just be immediate family, so you don't have to worry about being bombarded by cousins. My brother Cisco will be there with his wife, Diana. They have two kids. Anita and her husband, and their kids. My sister Celia will be there, but her husband may or not make it, because -"

"He's a firefighter," I finished. "Wesley."

"There's not going to be a quiz."

"I know." On our drive back to Newark, I'd gotten the lowdown from Ranger. I wanted to be prepared for what I was walking into. To my surprise, he'd answered all of my questions with no pushback.

There was another problem I hadn't thought of until that moment, and I froze while I was slipping on my shoes. "Wait. Will we speak English? Will I be able to understand anyone?"

Ranger nodded patiently. "Yes, we'll speak English."

"Is that just for me? I don't want to put you out or make anyone uncomfortable."

"It's not just for you. We grew up speaking both English and Spanish, since our parents wanted to make sure we were fully bilingual. Now, it makes sense since the family has grown. Greg speaks a little Spanish but isn't fluent, and Karen doesn't speak it much at all," he said, referring to two more of his sisters' spouses. "The kids all know a lot of Spanish, but English is their first language."

Ranger handed me my bag, but I just grabbed the essentials and slid them into my pockets. "I won't need the stun gun or anything, right?"

"My sisters can be pushy, but not that pushy."

"Then I'm ready." I took a bracing breath. "Are you sure about this?"

"Babe."

"Right. Okay, let's go."

I made Ranger swing by a local liquor store first so I could pick up a gift for his brother. I figured, when in doubt, liquor does the trick. Under Ranger's advisement, I selected a bottle of Glenfiddich 12 Year Single Malt, along with a gift bag. It was okay that I was set back another $50, since this was a special occasion. And because I'd be turning in two more FTAs tomorrow. I tore the price tags off both my purchases, and I was good to go. Until we pulled up to the curb in front of the house, when I needed another minute.

The house was about 15 minutes away from where we'd been staying. The neighborhood was upper-middle-class. The house was two stories with an attached garage. The driveway was already overflowing with cars.

I realized I was twisting the handles of the gift bag in my lap, and I worked at untangling them while I peered at the house. "Are we late?"

"No."

"Then why are we the last ones here?" I challenged.

"I doubt we're the last ones. Are you ready?"

"Will I get to see your childhood bedroom?"

"I lived in this house for less than a year. We grew up in a neighborhood on the other side of town, and didn't move here until I was in middle school."

That must have been the year before Ranger moved to Miami to live with his grandmother. "But you did have a bedroom in this house?"

"Cisco and I shared a room."

"How'd that go?"

"Why don't we head in so you can meet him, and then I'm sure you'll be able to answer that for yourself."

Officially called out on my stalling, I nodded resolutely. We marched up the driveway, but when I started to head in the direction of the front door, Ranger snaked an arm around me and steered me in the opposite direction. "Everyone's out back."

We let ourselves into the backyard via a gate in a wooden fence at the side of the house. Music was playing, and over that, I heard the sounds of people talking and kids laughing. It sounded like a stereotypical party, but not your typical Burg party. In the Plum household, the first sound that greeted guests was the drone of the television. At Morelli family gatherings, I'd always been greeted by boisterous Italian bickering. I didn't hear any bickering at Casa de Manoso.

We rounded the corner of the house and I took a moment to get my bearings. The backyard was large with mature trees that offered privacy from the neighbors. Large dining set with umbrella. Huge sectional furniture. It was clear that outdoor entertaining was a priority. Four kids were kicking a soccer ball around the yard, and adults were congregating around the dining set. No one was seated - this was a family that mingled while they socialized.

A man who I assumed must be Ranger's father looked up from his station manning the grill. He grinned. "Carlos is here!"

A dozen pairs of eyes turned in our direction. There was a pause, and then a frisson of excitement. The group met us halfway, and Ranger was quickly swept up in a sea of hugs and hearty shoulder slaps. The first person who approached me was Anita. "Stephanie! I'm so glad you could both make it."

She pulled me into another hug, and when I was released, I found myself face to face with Ranger - except this Ranger was wearing jeans and a white button-down shirt. I blinked a couple of times before I recovered. "You must be Cisco."

"And you must be Stephanie. It's great to meet you." He smiled, and I was struck again by the similarities between him and his brother. Upon closer inspection, Cisco's eyes were a little lighter, and he wore his hair shorter. His jaw was more rounded, and he had more smile lines at the corners of his eyes. I suppose that was something to be said for Ranger's blank face - it worked better than Botox.

"Happy birthday," I told him. "I hope you don't mind me crashing your party."

"You're not crashing. I'm glad you could make it." And then he, too, pulled me into a hug. "We've been dying to meet you, ever since -"

Cisco cut himself off awkwardly, and when I pulled back from the hug, I found myself next to Ranger. He had his arms crossed and was giving his brother a no-nonsense stare.

"Ever since Anita told us she'd run into you," Cisco finished. Then he smiled at Ranger and gave him one of those back-slapping man-hugs.

When he was finished, Ranger brought his hand to my back and corralled me to the left. "Steph, these are my parents, Marcela and Ricardo. Mamá, Papá, this is Stephanie Plum."

His mom was several inches shorter than me, her dark hair streaked with gray. Her eyes were the same warm chocolate color that Ranger's sometimes turned, in those treasured moments when he wasn't feeling so serious. She reached out to take my hand in both of hers and held my gaze. "Welcome, Stephanie. It's so wonderful to meet you." And then she pulled me into another hug. She held on tight for a couple of moments before we parted.

"Mr. and Mrs. Manoso, it's great to meet you. Thank you for having me. You have a lovely home."

"Please, call us Ricardo and Marcela," Ranger's father told me. "Or Papá and Mamá, if you prefer."

I felt Ranger tense beside me, but then his father chuckled and pulled me into a hug. He released me and excused himself as he moved to tend to the grill. Anita took the opportunity to introduce me to her husband, Greg.

"And who is this?" My voice inexplicably turned into a coo as I gestured at the baby carrier she wore on her chest.

Anita smiled down at the top of the head poking out from the carrier. "This is Lola. You'll have to excuse her from the welcome committee - she'll get in on the hugs when she wakes up."

"I'll hold her to that." I gestured out to the kids in the yard, who'd been joined by Ranger. He was being swarmed by the four of them, who appeared to range in age somewhere between three and ten. "Do any of these other ones belong to you?"

Anita laughed. "The one in the pink t-shirt is Emily and the older boy is Robbie. The other two are Cleo and Ricky, and they're Cisco's and Diana's kids."

"Don't judge me for my child's lack of pants," said a voice from behind me. I turned to see a tall, beautiful woman who looked like she'd just walked off the set of a Wonder Woman movie. "He overheard a conversation between me and his dad about a 'birthday suit' - I'm sure you understand what we were talking about, please don't judge me for that either - and somehow he got the impression that it meant you're supposed to come to a birthday party naked. This was the compromise."

The little boy wearing nothing but Superman underpants was holding his fists up in front of Ranger, apparently in a fighting stance. Ranger was crouched down in front of him, adjusting the boy's form.

"You'll get no judgment from me," I assured her. "You must be Diana?"

She smiled. "And you're the famous Stephanie."

"Uh-oh. How'd I become famous?"

"How could you not be?"

I turned at the sound of another voice, but before I could really see who it'd come from, she had me swept up in another hug.

"You're the only woman who Carlos has ever mentioned in the past decade," she continued. "That makes you instantly famous in this family."

"Cassie," Anita said in a warning tone.

"That's me, by the way," Cassie said to me with the 200-watt smile. "The drop-dead redhead over there chatting up Mamá is Karen."

"Are you feeling overwhelmed yet?" Anita asked dryly.

"I'm hanging in there, but I feel like maybe I need flashcards or something to remember all the names," I joked.

"Not from a big family?" Diana guessed. I shook my head, and she commiserated. "Me neither. Don't worry, you get used to it."

"My family is very… Well. Let's just say that they're not as effusive. This is all great," I said, gesturing around at the party. "But it might take a lot of getting used to. I'm not sure I'll be around long enough for that."

I said it with a smile, not wanting to offend anyone. Anita waved me off. "Of course you will. Now that we've gotten you here, you're here to stay."

I wasn't sure how Ranger would feel about that. But I didn't have much time to consider it further, because Cassie took me by the elbow and steered me over to introduce me to her wife. I also met Celia, who had arrived shortly after us. I had a brief reprieve from being the center of attention while more greetings were doled out.

Then the hair on the back of my neck stood on end, and I felt Ranger's warmth behind me a moment before he spoke quietly in my ear. "You doing okay?"

"Yes. Your family is great."

"I know."

"Do you get to spend much time with them?"

"I try, when I'm in town."

I looked up to study him, but of course his face told me nothing. "How come you've never really talked about them?"

"You never asked."

Cassie popped up on the other side of Ranger and tugged at his arm like a… well, like a little sister. "You're hogging Stephanie. The rest of us want to talk to her, too."

"She's not a shiny new toy."

"Of course not," Anita chimed in. Cassie shifted to make room for her in the little circle we were forming. "She's a fascinating woman. We have so many questions."

"I'm really not that interesting," I objected. I also felt the need to speak up, since it seemed they may have forgotten I was standing right there.

"Oh, but you are," Cassie insisted, her eyes sparkling. "You have no idea. I hear you're a bounty hunter? How did you get into that? Don't tell me Carlos wrangled you into it."

"Pretty much the opposite," I said. "I think the first time I ever met him, he tried to talk me out of it."

"Little did I know, that was the worst thing I could've done," Ranger said dryly.

"Contrary to your belief, not everyone is going to trip over themselves to do exactly as you tell them," Cassie replied.

Cisco inserted himself into the conversation then, sidling up beside me. "He really needs to hang out more with people who aren't on his payroll."

"Or just people who don't have a stubborn streak a mile wide," Ranger groused.

I turned around to face him with a smile and a sarcastic quip on the tip of my tongue. But before I could say one word in my own defense, Marcela stepped up behind Ranger and gave him a smack upside the head. I watched with wide eyes as she then calmly took her place beside her husband. She smacked Ranger!

"Stephanie is a strong, independent woman," she said calmly. "Not stubborn - there's a difference. Her career choice and her successes have nothing to do with anything Carlos did or did not say to her."

I stared, dumbfounded, at this five-foot-three woman who'd just quietly put her grown children in their place. I supposed that one didn't raise five children, especially one who'd become a man like Ranger, by being meek. "Thank you," I stammered. "Although Ran - Carlos - certainly has helped quite a bit along the way."

Ranger settled a warm hand at the nape of my neck, and I allowed myself a minuscule step back, savoring his warmth and presence.

"So do you like being a bounty hunter?" Greg asked.

"Believe me, I ask myself that question a lot. Especially when my work day ends with me covered in garbage or dripping with paint or stew or God-knows-what-else."

Cassie wrinkled her nose. "That sounds a lot less badass than I'd imagined."

"How often can that happen, though? I'm sure there are plenty of badass moments that outweigh the gross ones," Anita said.

"You'd think so," I said. "But I seem to be a magnet for disaster. And garbage."

"And yet you manage to get the job done," Ranger reminded me. "It's the mistakes that make us human."

Anita cocked an interested eyebrow at Ranger, and then looked back and forth between the two of us, a smile spreading across her face.

"That's very true. I'm proud of you both for remembering that," Marcela said. Her gaze was on Ranger, and the affection there was unmistakable. Then her eyes flickered to the yard. "Cisco, Anita, go corral your children before they completely trample my azaleas."

The group split up, half of them going to re-establish the boundaries of the makeshift soccer field, and the other half gravitating toward the grill, which was emanating a heavenly aroma that made my mouth water. I turned to look up at Ranger. "Can I have a tour?"

"You want to see the house?"

I rolled my eyes at his cluelessness. He had no idea how much I craved more information about him. No doubt he was going to regret bringing me tonight. This peek into his family life was only going to stoke the flames of my curiosity. I spared him the duh that was on the tip of my tongue, and instead managed a polite "Yes, please."

A vociferous tour guide, Ranger was not. But he dutifully led me through the house, pointing out rooms as we passed them. The downstairs consisted of kitchen, dining room, living room, and den slash home office. There was also a powder room. Upstairs there were four bedrooms and three full baths.

"This is the room that Cisco and I shared when I still lived here," he told me, holding open the door to the first bedroom in the hallway at the top of the stairs.

"Was the floral wallpaper your choice or his?" My hopes for using the room to get any additional insight into Ranger were dashed. The room had obviously been repurposed. There was one double bed, an empty chest of drawers, and a bare bones closet.

"This was the first room that freed up, with both of us out of the house, so it became the guest room." He led me down the rest of the hallway. "Celia and Anita shared this one. And Cassie and Liana shared the third."

"Who's the oldest out of all of you?" I asked.

"I am."

That made good sense, now that I'd seen a bit of the dynamic between Ranger and his siblings. "And then?"

"Celia, then Cisco, Anita, Cassie. Liana's the baby of the family. She's only 25."

"Will I meet her tonight?"

"I don't think she's going to make it. She works at a PR firm in Manhattan, and said something about a client emergency."

"You're all fairly close in age, then. Five of you, all less than ten years apart. I can't imagine what that was like, growing up."

"Chaotic, most of the time," he said. "But my mother managed to keep us in line. Mostly."

"Not your father?"

"He helped. But we all knew that Mamá was the one you didn't want to cross."

"Did your mom work when you were all growing up?"

"Off and on." He leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb. "She's a nurse. When we were really young, my father worked as an electrician during the day and went to school at night. When he got home from classes, he helped put us to bed, and then he studied while my mother worked the graveyard shift at the hospital. She would either be home in time for my father to leave the next morning, or he would drop us off at my Tía's house and she'd take us to school."

"That sounds like a lot of juggling."

He shrugged a shoulder. "They made it work. I'm sure it was hard on them, but as kids, we never noticed. They never let on that they were stressed about work or money. But when my father graduated, he got a job as an electrical engineer at a manufacturing company. Things changed after that, and my mother was able to cut back her hours at the hospital. I still remember, one night when we were eating dinner, I looked up and saw that my mother had added chicken to her plate. She normally only ate the rice and beans. I'd always assumed that she didn't care for meat, but that was the moment I realized that we just hadn't been able to afford enough of it."

When he finished his story, I realized that I'd been practically holding my breath, hoping he'd continue. I wasn't used to Ranger sharing such personal information. Maybe it was because we were here, in his parents' home. Maybe it was just because we were surrounded by his family, so the memories were fresh. Whatever it was, I never wanted it to stop.

"I've experienced a lot of examples of really great mothering, and a lot of not-so-great examples, too," I said. "Your mother seems like one of the really great ones."

"She is."

There was a series of photos lining the hall, and I studied them closely. "Who was the biggest troublemaker?"

"When we were kids, it was Cassie and Liana. Being the youngest, they tended to get away with shit that the rest of us never did."

"And you were an angel," I teased. "The model of perfection, even as a kid."

"I had my moments," he admitted. "But I didn't start causing any real trouble until I was in my early teens."

I turned away from the photos to make a sassy remark, but was interrupted by the sound of the patio door downstairs. For a moment, we dimly heard the cacophony from the backyard before the door slid shut again.

Downstairs, we found Marcela and Greg in the kitchen. The latter had an armful of plates and silverware, and I rushed to open the door for him so he could carry his burden outside.

"Carlos, could you go help your father with the grill? You know how he always burns the vegetables."

"I'm on it," he promised. He turned to me and spoke low in my ear. "You good?"

I waved him off with a smile, then turned to Marcela while Ranger disappeared into the backyard. "What can I do to help?"

"You're so sweet. Could you start chopping up those tomatoes for the salad?" Marcela's hands were busy tearing apart lettuce leaves and tossing them into a large bowl. She gestured with her chin to a few tomatoes sitting on a cutting board next to her.

"You bet." I was no Julia Child, but even I could handle chopping a vegetable. Right? "I was just admiring your photo wall upstairs. I loved the ones at the beach. Where were those taken?"

Marcela smiled. "That's Montauk. We used to vacation there for a week every summer, along with my two sisters and their families. The kids always loved it. They would organize sand castle contests and hundred-meter swim races."

"Sounds like fun." I tried to think of more to say, but my attention was also a bit hung up on not massacring the tomatoes.

"Those vacations will always be some of my favorite memories from when the kids were little," she said fondly. "It was a real treat back then - money was a little tight, what with raising all of them and with Ricardo taking night classes for his degree. But I'm so glad we made that one week every summer a priority."

"I've never been to Montauk, but I've heard it's beautiful. My family vacationed at Point Pleasant a few times when we were young."

"Tell me about your family. Do you have many brothers or sisters?"

"Just one sister. Valerie."

"Are you two close?"

I laughed. I couldn't help it. Then I noticed Marcela's look, and I bit it back. "Sorry. Um, no, we weren't very close back then. I think we're a little closer now, but…"

She shook her head and held up a hand. "You don't have to explain. I understand, believe me. I raised four girls, and I had two sisters of my own."

"You have a wonderful family," I told her sincerely. "Thank you again for having me here. I know you weren't expecting me, at least not until this morning, so thank you for being so welcoming and making room for me."

"Expecting? No. But hoping, yes." She smiled over at me. "You're welcome here any time, Stephanie. We've all been so looking forward to meeting you."

I paused. "You have?"

"Of course. Carlos doesn't talk about you often, but -"

"He talks about me?" I interrupted. Then I pressed my lips together, embarrassed. But… he talks about me?

She gave me another smile. A knowing one. "He's mentioned your name a couple of times over the past few years. But that was enough. And even if he hadn't mentioned you, I could still tell something was different. That he had someone."

My face felt warm. "We're not… I mean, Rang- Carlos and I, we're just…"

She reached over and put her hand on top of mine. "It's okay. I know."

I wanted to ask her what she knew, and whether she could explain it to me. Because I was confused. "Really. We're just friends."

"Okay. I believe you." She said it in a tone that implied the opposite.

I sighed. "We do care about each other. A lot."

She smiled serenely at me as she took the cutting board and dumped the tomatoes into the salad bowl. "I know."

"It's been great to get to meet you all, and get some insight into how Ranger grew up. He doesn't tend to be very talkative."

"Yes, that's true." Marcela looked pensive, and focused her gaze on the salad. "He knows that words have consequences. I'm afraid that he learned that lesson harder than most."

I found myself nearly holding my breath again, waiting for her to go on. Desperate for more. When she didn't, I struggled with how to prompt her without being too forward or seeming too nosy. "For as long as we've been friends, I sometimes wonder if I really know him as well as I think I do."

"You do," Marcela assured me.

"He seems so different from the rest of you."

"You may feel differently if you met my mother. I was raised a little differently than the way I chose to raise my own family. More disciplined, certainly. A lot of that rubbed off on Carlos, I think."

"The Abuela he lived with through high school?"

Her eyebrows shot up. "He told you?"

"Just that he was sent to Miami to live with her after he got into some trouble when he was younger."

"Sent?" Marcela shook her head. "He makes it sound like I shipped him off in a crate."

I laughed. "I'm sure he didn't mean it like that."

"Ultimately, it was the right choice for everyone. He needed to escape for awhile, and I was afraid that if we tried to keep him here, that would only make things worse."

She eyed me, and I got the sense that she was being deliberately cryptic. I didn't know the full story behind the circumstances that drove Ranger to Miami when he was a teen, and it seemed I wouldn't learn it from Marcela.

She continued. "I think he escaped a little too much. He had some rough years. And of course, I wish that he could have been home. But I can't regret any of it, since all of those experiences combined made him the man he is today. And I wouldn't trade that for anything."

"I agree."

Marcela held my gaze, and a barely-there smile played at the corners of her mouth. The expression was so familiar, and I was struck again with marvel that this was Ranger's mother. Before she could say anything else, the back door slid open and we both looked to see Ranger stick his head inside.

"We're about ready out there," he said. I saw his eyes flicker between us. "Everything okay?"

"Of course," Marcela said. She thrust the salad bowl into my hands. "Vámonos."

Ranger kept his eyes on me as I walked toward him, and I worried that he could read my every thought on my face. One of the most frustrating things about our relationship was how it often seemed he could read me like a book, whereas his blank face protected him. I may as well be trying to read hieroglyphics.

I set the salad on the table that held the rest of the food, although no one paid it much attention. I couldn't blame them. My mouth was already watering from all the delicious smells, and that was before Ranger started pointing things out to me. I ended up with a plate heaped with congri, lechón asado, croquetas, and bocaditos. Celia was fixing drinks and offered me one, but after taking one look at the very long pour of tequila that went into the pitcher, I politely declined. Probably it wasn't a good idea to test the limits of my alcohol tolerance in the presence of Ranger's family.

We took our seats at the table once we'd all filled our plates. Extra chairs had been pulled in, and it was a cozy fit. I felt like I was halfway in Ranger's lap, and I still kept bumping elbows with Diana on my other side. Still, it didn't feel cramped, just intimate. The kids sat at a miniature picnic table in the yard.

I was happy to take a backseat to the conversation around me, enjoying the playful and easy banter, pitching in when I could. No one was complaining about neighborhood gossip, and no one was muttering under their breath. I glanced around and didn't see anyone gripping their knives with white knuckles. It was different. Comfortable.

The food was amazing. Ranger and Marcela might have been the only ones who touched the salad. The rest of us were too busy with the melt-in-your-mouth roast pork and the various carb-wrapped meats and cheeses and fruits. I had never heard of a pastelito before, but I wasn't sure how I'd made it this far in life without one. And that wasn't even dessert, I was told - of course, being a birthday party, there would be cake.

After dinner, Cassie and Diana were huddled over their iPhones near a stereo system, compiling a party playlist. Ranger and the reset of his siblings, in-laws, and nephews and nieces had all divided into two teams and were engrossed in what appeared to be a fiercely competitive game of soccer. I'd decided to sit it out on the bench, in deference to my injury. Ricardo and I were drafted as 'referees'. I hoped they weren't expecting much of me, since I had no idea of the rules.

"Stephanie?"

I looked back at the sound of my name, and saw Marcela just on the other side of the patio door. I rushed to open it for her, since both her hands were occupied by a decadent-looking cake.

"That looks amazing," I breathed.

"Chocolate fudge filling?" Ricardo asked hopefully. He peered over Marcela's shoulder while she put the cake on the table that had already been cleared of the remnants of dinner.

"Raspberry filling. Cisco's favorite." She caught my eye and winked at me. "Carlos's, too."

"He eats cake?" I gaped at her. That did it. I was officially convinced that the Ranger I knew was actually a different person than Carlos.

Ricardo chuckled. "He'll usually refrain when it's first cut, but if you keep an eye on him after he thinks no one is paying attention, I'm sure he'll have at least a few bites."

Marcela winked at me. "Please tell me you're not one of those girls who doesn't eat dessert."

I grinned. "The opposite. In fact, one of my new life mottos is to eat dessert first. Although I'd have to agree that chocolate fudge would beat out raspberry any day."

Ricardo playfully nudged his wife with his elbow. "See? I knew I liked this woman."

"Just you wait," she told him affectionately. "In a few months it'll be your party, and then you'll get to choose the cake."

"Sí, Mamá," he said with a smile. Then he leaned over and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

"Are you another October birthday, like Ranger?" I asked.

"No, mine is in February," he said. At my look of confusion, understanding dawned in his eyes. "She's referring to a retirement party. I tried resisting, but it was futile. I'm pretty sure by this point, she's invited so many people that we'll need to apply for some type of special permit."

"Retirement!" I said meaningfully. "Wow, congratulations."

He waved his hand dismissively. "You can save your congratulations for the party. It's going to take me several months to steel myself for the attention."

"I appreciate you welcoming me into your home tonight, but I don't want to intrude any more than I already have."

"I expect to see you there," he said definitively. "I don't know why Carlos has waited so long to bring you around, but now that he has, I expect to see you a lot more often."

I felt my face flush again. I didn't want a repeat of the awkward part of the conversation with Marcela in the kitchen. "I'm afraid you may have misunderstood. Ra - Carlos and I are just friends."

He studied me for a moment, taking a sip of his beer. "Hmm."

The resemblance between him and Ranger at that moment was uncanny. He acted like he was listening intently to what I was saying, even though I wasn't saying anything. Which, of course, compelled me to keep talking. "We're friends. We're not in a relationship."

He gave me a strange smile. "I've seen the way my son looks at you. The way he's looking at you right now, in fact."

Startled, I swung my gaze over to the other side of the patio where I'd last noticed Ranger. Sure enough, my eyes met his. He was in the middle of a conversation with Greg and Anita, but he was looking at me.

"He's just watching out for me. He can be a little overprotective." I didn't want to get into the whole situation with Gabriella and Los Reyes, so I left it at that.

Surprisingly, Ricardo chuckled. "A little overprotective. Yes, that's probably true. My son is certainly a worrier. But trust me, the way he keeps looking at you isn't out of concern. Plus, there's the fact that you're here tonight."

"I was with Ranger this morning when we ran into Anita," I said by way of explanation.

"That may be true, but you wouldn't be here if you and he both didn't want you to be. The fact that you are, speaks volumes."

"We're… friends," I said again, lamely.

"Carlos hasn't introduced us to a friend like you in a very long time."

I didn't know what to say to that. Luckily, I didn't have to say anything, because Ranger chose that moment to make his way over. "Can I steal Stephanie for a minute?"

"It's about time," Ricardo teased. "She was just complaining to me that you hadn't asked her to dance yet."

"That's not how I remember our conversation," I challenged.

"Stephanie has a selective memory," Ranger explained patiently.

I went hands to hips and stared him down. Fat lot of good it did me. He regarded me steadily, and I watched while the almost-smile blossomed into a full one. I would not melt, dammit. Nope, not me. Fully solid.

Ranger held out a hand, looking like a man who had all the time in the world for me to take it, because he knew that I eventually would. Damn him.

I caved. He took me by the elbow and towed me through the yard, past his siblings. I hadn't noticed when everyone had paired off, but the yard had turned into a dance floor. Even the kids were dancing - surprisingly well, in fact. I had a feeling I was about to make a fool of myself.

"I don't know how to salsa," I protested.

Ranger stopped when we made it to the corner of the yard. I realized he'd staked out a spot where he could keep an eye on the house and all points of entry. "Yes, you do."

"How would you know? You've never seen me dance. I'm telling you, I don't know how."

His hands went to my waist and he pulled me against him, already starting to move to the beat. He dipped his head to speak low in my ear. "Your hips know what to do. Trust me."

I felt heat creeping up my neck, but with Ranger's hips moving against mine, I found that he was right. I fell into the rhythm naturally. He slowly got our feet in on the action, using the pressure of his hands on me to cue me when to move. Before I knew it, we were dancing.

I wanted to talk to him about the conversations I'd had with his parents. About how great his family was, and how much I'd enjoyed meeting them. About how much I loved seeing him here, in a setting that was so different from how I'd always pictured him, and yet where he fit so easily that I found myself questioning whether I really knew him at all.

I had questions, and I wanted to sit him down and pepper him with them. And yet experience told me that I may not get the answers I was looking for. So I resolved to put them out of my mind and just enjoy the moment. The one where we were safe, surrounded by people Ranger loved and trusted. The moment where he was as relaxed as I'd ever seen him. I'd never seen him dance before, and boy, had I been missing out. So for tonight - for this moment - we just danced.

###

The drive back to the house was silent. Which wasn't different from any other drive with Ranger. Sitting in his passenger seat always gave me plenty of time to think. And on this occasion, I had plenty to think about. I'd thought that meeting Ranger's family would provide some answers about the man of mystery, but I found that I was left with more questions.

Ranger parked in the garage and let us both in through the back door. He retrieved two bottles of water from the fridge and handed me one. I took a seat at the kitchen island and picked at the label on my bottle.

"Did you have fun tonight?" I asked.

"It was good to see everyone," he said. "We all live nearby - Liana is the furthest, and she's just in Brooklyn - but between work and kids and life, we don't all get together as often as we should."

"Hmm."

"What?"

"Anita said that you're the one who's most often missing from Sunday dinners."

He looked like he was thinking about smiling again. "I've spent my whole life hearing 'Anita said'. How fun that I now get to hear it from you, too."

I shook my finger at him. "Don't go all woe of the eldest sibling on me. You're talking to a youngest child, here. You won't get any sympathy from me on that one."

"What about you? Did you have fun?" He used his hands on my knees to swivel me on my bar stool to face him, and then he gently pushed my knees apart and stepped between them.

"I did. Meeting your family was really nice."

"Uh-oh."

"What, uh-oh?"

"Your voice went all high and fake. What are you not saying?"

"Nothing." I gave him a smile that I could only hope didn't look as forced as it felt. Then I used my hands at his waist to back him up a couple steps so I could slide off my bar stool. "I'm beat. I'm gonna turn in."

"Hey." He followed me down the hallway toward the bedroom. "Are you okay?"

"Everything's fine. I'm just tired, and I think I'm due for a pain pill."

He snagged my hand, stopping me just short of the master bathroom. He gently guided me to the bed. "Take a seat. If you're in pain, you should've said something."

"I'm fine," I protested.

Ignoring me, he retreated into the bathroom and emerged moments later with a pill. He handed it over along with my bottle of water. "Was the dancing too much?"

"No. I loved the dancing. Seriously, I'm fine." I waved him off.

"There's that tone again."

I rolled my eyes. "Has anyone ever told you that these superpowers of observation can be really annoying?"

"You're the only one who's ever told me that."

"Then I think your brother is right. You need to spend more time with normal, non-Rangeman people, because I'm sure that they'd agree with me."

Ranger took a seat next to me at the edge of the bed. "Tell me the truth. Did anyone say anything to you tonight? Did they freak you out?"

"Freak me out? Why would you think that?"

"It's not like they ever hesitate to speak their minds," he said dryly. "Who knows what you could've ended up talking about."

A laugh bubbled up and escaped before I could stop it. I shook my head. "They definitely weren't what I was expecting."

"What did you expect?"

"I didn't know what to expect," I admitted. "I guess maybe a family of Rangers."

"I'm one of a kind."

"You are that."

"Wondering what went wrong?"

"Of course not." I shot him a derisive look, but when I caught his gaze, I saw something unfamiliar there. Uncertainty? In the next instant it was gone, but I couldn't pretend I hadn't seen it. I turned to face him more fully and brought my hands up to rest on his shoulders. "You, Carlos Manoso, are the spitting image of your father. You have his determination, his poise, and his unexpected humor. And you got your mother's eyes and her quiet strength. I don't know them very well, but I do know you, and I can confidently say that you are the best of them, and you're also your own man. I can tell that they're so proud of you. As they should be."

I watched while he absorbed that. I kept my eyes on his to make sure it really sunk in. He brought up one of his hands to cup my face, and his thumb swept over my bottom lip. "Babe."

I closed my eyes then while my heart clenched. I loved it and I hated it when he called me Babe. Loved it because I knew what it was often shorthand for, and hated it because sometimes I just wished he'd say the other words out loud. When I opened my eyes again, he was closer. All I had to do was lean forward, and our lips would meet. Instead, I pulled back.

"I can't do this," I told him.

"I know. You're in pain. I wasn't going to try anything. I just need to kiss you."

"I can't," I said again. I dropped my hands from his shoulders and put enough distance between us until it felt like I could almost breathe. If only he'd stop looking at me.

"What's wrong?"

"I had a really great time tonight."

"And that's a problem?"

"Yes." My fingers were toying with the hem of my shirt. I clasped my hands together in my lap, forcing them to stop. "Did you know that at least three times tonight, I had to try to explain to various members of your family that we aren't together? Like, a couple?"

He expelled a breath. "I tried to warn you. My family can be a little nosy, and they don't always respect boundaries."

"It wasn't the questions that I minded. It was my answers."

"Explain, please."

I tried to gather my thoughts, but wasn't sure how to explain it to him. I'd only recently started to gain better understanding, myself. "Morelli told me that I was 'his Ranger'."

I didn't bother looking up for his reaction. I'd bet my entire bank account that he didn't even have one. At least, not one that I'd be able to read. He remained silent, so I did my best to forge on.

"He meant it in the sense that he felt like the poor schmuck waiting around for me to be the one to adjust my picture of 'Someday' so that it matched his." I drew in a deep breath. "And it made me feel really bad, because I led him on for years. I thought it was possible that my picture would change. That it would morph into what he - and my mother and sister and the entire population of the Burg - thought it should be."

"Sometimes pictures do change."

I forced myself to lift my chin and look him in the eye. "And sometimes they don't."

"I think they do, more often than you know. But it can take time for the new picture to come together."

"I'm afraid that Morelli was right," I admitted.

"About what part?"

I didn't want to say it out loud. Didn't want to admit it even to myself. Because I was afraid that there was a small part of me that was waiting for Ranger's picture to change. I hadn't realized it until tonight. His family was wonderful, but I'd left feeling disappointed - because they all had what Ranger had always told me he could never offer. I'd convinced myself that maybe he just didn't know how to offer it. Didn't know what that kind of happily-ever-after picture looked like. But I'd now seen firsthand that that wasn't the case.

"What does your picture of 'Someday' look like?" I asked.

He was quiet for long enough that I wondered whether he'd answer. He was doing that thing again where he was reading me. I didn't even want to know what he was seeing.

"I haven't been able to afford the luxury of the picture," he said. "There have been too many times in my life when I assumed I wouldn't get to have a 'Someday'. I had to learn to live for today."

"What happens when that's not enough?"

The blank face was firmly in place. I knew what he was going to say before he said it. "Babe."

I tried to ignore the thickness in my throat. "You love me."

"You know I do."

"You love me as in, you like me being alive and you have fun keeping me that way."

He took a slow breath. "I also love you as in, my day is better when you're a part of it. As in, I look forward to not only getting you in my bed, but to waking up with you still in it."

"But only for today."

I watched his jaw flex. He didn't open his mouth to argue.

"You love me in your own way." I repeated the words he'd given me more than once.

"Yes."

"I think in my picture." I paused to clear my throat. "I want there to be someone who just plain loves me. Without qualifiers."

His Adam's apple bobbed. "It's for your protection."

"I know. You've always been honest about what you can offer, and what you can't. I'm sorry that I haven't been as honest with myself. This is just me trying to do a better job of that."

He reached for my hand again, but I retreated to the bathroom. Toothbrush, makeup remover, sleep shirt. I gathered my things quickly, studiously ignoring the burn of Ranger's eyes on me. My heartbeat was the only sound in my ears as I made my way down the hallway. I flipped the kitchen lights off on my way, though I still felt the pressure of his gaze until I closed the door of the guest room behind me.