A/n: Over 10K views and 180 reviews…this is so awesome. I love this site and I love sharing this story, it's so fun to write; I appreciate, more than I can say, all the kind and encouraging things you all have had to say.

I killed my phone last weekend and it had 2 apps I used to make story notes, chapter outlines, funny things I thought of that I wanted to incorporate in my story…it's all been lost. The next chapter may be a week or so out, since I'm pouting too much over the loss to really dig in.

Two days. Two unbelievably long, fruitless days. As Les entered the elevator and pressed the button that would whisk him to his room on, ironically, the 7th floor of the Grand Hyatt, to a room he'd barely spent any time in, he was grousing and unhappy. The tip they'd gotten on the skip, while good, had been scant on some important information. For example, the snitch had neglected to share that their fugitive, one Martin English, had hired two dangerous men to guard his body at all times. They'd also neglected to inform him that he had become a mid-level dealer in the short time since he'd made bail for committing some high level white-collar crimes, so the playing field was not at all what RangeMan had expected. Still, they felt pretty confidant that they had a good window of opportunity to apprehend him tomorrow when he met their snitch for lunch.

It was a small consolation, however; Lester was in sexual limbo and had found himself having trouble focusing on the task at hand the past couple of days. His mind, his attention…hell, his heart was back in Trenton. Missing someone and feeling like you were incomplete without being in their presence was a new normal that Lester was actually enjoying acclimating to; being with Giana brought him a sense of peace he didn't realize had been absent from his life. The spiritual wholeness, the love he felt when he thought of her made the ache in his chest that much harsher.

And now, here he was, wasting more time without here in a hotel room less than seventy miles from the woman he loved.

Love. I really do love her, he thought to himself, a smile lighting his beautiful face as he exited the elevator and made his way to his suite. The realization had been a long time coming, ebbing in and out of his conscious thoughts for a number of weeks. And then one day, they'd met at Gia's house for lunch and she remembered that he preferred fresh tomatoes to sun dried. Such a small thing; she'd substituted plum tomatoes in her own recipe, just to please him, and had brushed off his thanks as though pleasing him were the most natural thing in the world. How she hadn't noticed the shift he felt after that small, seemingly banal act was something he puzzled over for almost a day; was he really so starved for affection and genuine thoughtfulness that he was mistaking gratitude for love? The answer had come to him in a wave of emotion that left no room for doubt; he loved her. He'd been working around to telling her ever since that afternoon, and he felt mildly disgusted with himself for his cowardice. He needed to get back home to her.

As he opened his hotel room door, reflecting that 'home' meant an almost entirely different thing now than it did before he met Giana, he paused. There was a small bag and a woman's jacket near the chair in the foyer of his suite that didn't belong to him, and a quick glance in the entryway closet confirmed that this was his room…shit. Housekeeping must have delivered the bag to the wrong room. He made his way cautiously into the room, hoping there wasn't some random tourist relaxing on his bed. He was beyond the realm of dealing with this right now.

He'd only just rounded the corner toward the bedroom when he saw her, through the open door. Giana sat, perched on the edge of the king-sized bed, in a black lacy corset and matching panties. Her legs were crossed, revealing what looked, to Lester's hungry eyes, a bare leg that went on for miles. She smiled, inviting and a little shy, drinking in Lester's predatorial stance. He made his way toward her, his natural gait morphing into that of a hunter, stalking its prey.

Once he reached her, he pulled her to her feet and gathered her in his arms so every possible inch of her body was pressed against his. Without speaking, he kissed her. Words would have been wasted, anyway; what Lester had to say couldn't be expressed by anything he could think to say to her….well, maybe one thing…

Breaking the seal of their mouths, Les touched his forehead to hers and gazed at her eyes, neither blinking, both full to bursting with words unspoken. He knew, as well as he knew his name, that he would cherish this woman in his arms until the day he died. All the earlier trepidation, the self-criticism born of years of rejection seemed a hazy memory now that she was staring back at him with all the love he felt for her, shining from her eyes.

"I love you, Giana." He said, so soft and heartbreakingly sweet. She squeezed her eyes shut, taking a precious moment to appreciate what he said. She knew Les, knew his heart and the uncertainty he sometimes felt when it came to letting her love him…because she did love him. How could she not love this perfectly imperfect man, as he stood baring himself and leaving his soul exposed at great personal risk, to tell her that he loved her the way she loved him? Drawing in a calming breath and praying her voice reflected the surety she felt, she opened her eyes and smiled at him before twining her fingers through his thick hair. Moving her lips a hairsbreadth from his, she answered his unasked question.

"I love you, too, Les. So much." There was no hesitation in his movements now, nothing but a satisfied glow and a low moan as he ravaged her mouth, her throat, her neck with his hungry lips. His movements were slow, calculated; they were designed to leave Gia balanced on the edge of a knife for as long as possible as he explored her body.

As he undressed her, slowly, languidly, taking his time to unwrap the gift she'd given him when she pledged her love for him, the quiet of the room was peppered with sighs and whispered declarations of love. And after a torturously long lovemaking session, when Lester finally sheathed himself in her heat and lay, still and trembling and cradled in the perfect cushion of her body, she kissed him again and again murmured her adoration of him. The shift he'd felt weeks before was a tiny tremble compared to the shuddering, explosive rattle he felt realign and right his broken heart and twisted soul. Lester's hold on her tightened and he returned her kiss, whispering, "My Giana." as he began moving against her.

Hours later, sated and content, they lay together in bed. So entwined with her that Les wasn't sure which arm and leg lumps were his, he only had the energy to sigh and burrow in closer. That was how he'd been the entire time they'd been holed up, Gia noted with satisfaction – utterly content.

Twisting his head so he could gaze at her face, he noticed she was already focused on his. His grin, usually reeking of confidence, was more shy and reserved than normal. "Hi," he murmured, pressing his lips to her bare shoulder.

A soft, "Hmmm," was her only answer as she returned his kiss.

"Not that I'm complaining, but what are you doing here? And how'd you get into my hotel room?" he asked, his fingertips skimming the alabaster skin of her arm. She shivered before smiling and replying, "Stephanie. She threw a fit when she found out that Ranger interrupted your day off to come here for an FTA, so she got the hotel info from him and called me." Here she kissed him soundly before continuing. "I also had some good news that I wanted to share." She untwined her legs from his, the loss of her body sparking a flash of melancholy in his chest. Shaking his head, he leaned forward to see what she was digging out of her purse. With a "Tah-dah!" and a flourish, she presented a stapled sheaf of papers to him.

"'Petition for Annulment of Marriage'," he read before glancing up at her. Her joy was obvious in her smile as she announced, "The DA dropped Hector from the investigation. He's officially no longer a suspect! He suggested we file this as soon as possible, and I agreed. I don't want anything standing in our way; not anymore."

Whispering his accedence, Lester reached for her and pulled her back onto the bed. The absence of her body from his, though new, was unacceptable right now (and, he suspected, would continue to be unacceptable a lot in the near future). Wrapping his arms around her, he drew her as close as possible, pressing her back into the mattress as he covered her body with his. Positioning himself so that he was, once again, hovering at her entrance, he whispered, "Eyes, Giana."

Only when she opened her eyes to lock gazes with him did he slip into her welcoming warmth. With twin sighs, they began the slow build toward their release.

"Les?" Gia asked, a couple of hours after she'd presented him with the annulment paperwork. They'd made love again, then dozed in the fading light. Ranger had texted Lester and told him they didn't need him for the takedown, after all, and to enjoy the suite for as long as he'd like.

Now he lay, boneless and limp while Gia trailed her fingernails gently over his back. Up and down, up and down, until Lester thought he'd sink right through the mattress to the floor. This was another reality of being with Giana; she was a nurturer, something Lester had gone so long without it had no longer figured into his life. Now…suffice to say, he'd been tempted on more than one occasion to fake a minor illness, just to receive Giana's attention.

"Hmm?" he answered, not lifting his head.

"Can I ask you something?"

Oh, hell. In his limited experience in dealing with women's emotions, these words only spelled 'trouble'.

"Hmm?" he asked again, a bit more cautiously. He knew he'd answer whatever she asked – already, denying her anything seemed a feat too high to conquer – so he prayed she wouldn't bring up anything that might ruin the mood.

Shyly, she asked, "Why do you ask to see my eyes? When we're, you know…"

"Doing the nasty?" he asked, grinning with the relief of having dodged that particular bullet.

Gia rolled her eyes and snorted. "So romantic." she muttered.

Rolling onto his side, he noted with some satisfaction the hungry look on her face when he exposed his body to her. Baby, if you keep looking at me like that, we're going to save a LOT of money on laundry in the future. He shrugged and said, "I like it. Your eyes are beautiful, and very expressive. I guess I know I can gauge what you're feeling when I can see your eyes, and when I'm about to make you come, I like to see it." Here he grinned wickedly at her blush, and was moving toward her again to sate his appetite when there was a knock at the door.

"Great timing," he grumbled, reaching for his basketball shorts and t-shirt. After ensuring that Gia was in the bathroom and not visible, Les eyed the peephole and let the uniformed bellhop in, dropping his wallet in the process. The tray he pushed was laden with covered dishes, and Lester bent to retrieve his wallet from the floor, he heard the boy gasp. Straightening, Les took a glance around and almost instantly started seething.

There stood Giana in shorts and a tank, her hair piled high into an artfully messy bun. Her smile only served to enhance her beauty, and the healthy glow of having been recently loved by Lester made her infinitely more appealing. The bellhop, oblivious to Lester's chagrin, returned her smile with a goofy grin of his own and said, "Good afternoon, miss. Hope you're hungry, this sure smells great." As she traded small talk with the boy, Lester felt his internal temperature ratchet up a notch; the kid was obviously smitten with her, and she stood there, continuing to encourage his gawping. Drawing himself up, Les shoved a ten into the kid's hand and ushered him out the door. Slamming it behind the bellhop, Lester whirled on Giana.

"What the hell was that?! Why'd you come out here, half dressed? Do you like the attention or something?"

Almost as soon as he opened his mouth, a panicky voice inside his head started chanting. Abort! Abort!, but the need to regain control of the situation overrode all good sense.

Giana stood, jaw slightly agape, as Les finished his tirade. He saw the flush of anger make her already beautiful skin glow almost luminescently before her mouth snapped shut. With a final glare, she spun around and slammed the door to the bedroom shut behind her.

Fuck.

After giving her a few minutes – okay, so it was 30 seconds, but it was all he could take – Lester entered the bedroom to find it empty. The sound of the shower running told him what he was anxious to know; exactly how pissed was she? Nervous energy dictated his next few minutes, so he straightened the bedclothes and picked up the delectable lingerie he'd peeled off her body hours before, folding it and setting it on top of the dresser. He heard the water shut off and sat on the edge of the bed, waiting, his knee jiggling fast enough to ignite a small flame.

The door to the bathroom opened and Gia stepped out wearing a hotel robe. Ignoring Les, she swept through the bedroom and out the door, marching over to the foyer where she'd left her luggage. Lester trailed behind, wary and silent as she scooped the bag from the chair and spun around, sidestepping him and marching back toward the bedroom before slamming the door, again.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Lester fisted his hair, agitated and stumped. He knew, knew he'd pissed her off with his comment, and he knew it was uncalled for. But Christ, he'd waited what felt like his whole life for this woman and not ten minutes after they left the bed they'd been cocooned in, some asshole was eye-fucking her in their hotel room! That's all I need, some pencil dick making a move on her now, he groused to himself. After all the time he'd spent pining over her, working to shore in his place in her life, and the very day she tells him she loves him, there's someone else vying for his spot.

Hearing the faint sound of the blowdryer, Les decided he needed reinforcements and snatched his cell up to squeeze in a call before Gia was finished. Stephanie was the obvious choice, but when his finger hovered over her name on his phone, he couldn't do it. He didn't want to disappoint another woman with his bullshit, and he was sure she'd be disappointed in his behavior, too. Resigning himself to his new, unfavorable position, he dialed the only other person he could think of that might want to help dig him out of this hole. He scrolled through his contacts and dialed.

"Hello."

"Vaughn, hey. It's Lester." He was met with a beat of silence, then, "Hey, what's up? Aren't you with my sister? Everything alright?"

Les gritted his teeth and pulled his hair again, standing to pace the small space.

"She's fine. I just, ah…I fucked up with her, already, and I need some help figuring out how to get her not to leave." He rushed through the words, embarrassed but determined to fix what he'd already broken.

Vaughn's surprise was evident in his voice. "Oh. Um…want to tell me what happened?"

"Not really, but I think you're my best bet at convincing her to stay. So here goes." Lester ran through the story quickly, mindful of the noise coming from the en suite. When he was finished, Vaughn let out a low whistle and chuckled. "You sure put your foot in it, huh?"

Lester huffed, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, I get it, I'm an asshole. But how do I get her to stay?"

Again, Vaughn's surprise showed in his tone. "She said she was leaving?"

Lester stopped his pacing and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand. His sigh was gusty and deep, belying the neutral tone he assumed. "No, but why wouldn't she? I basically accused her of flaunting herself around a stranger."

Vaughn was silent for a beat before speaking again. His tone was warm and comforting, his words spoken with care. "I don't know why you'd assume that, Les. Gia hasn't shared any personal information with me, but I will say this: you remind me a lot of Hector."

Lester's eyes widened in surprise; this wasn't where he expected this call to go.

Vaughn continued. "He had some insecurities when we got together; out of respect for him I won't say any more, but there were things we had to work through together. You need to work through this with her. Don't assume she's looking for an excuse to leave you; I know my sister, and she doesn't give up easily on anything. Try apologizing for overreacting and tell her where you're coming from. You can't make a go of this if you're already trying to spare each other's feelings, especially with my sister, she hates that shit. Transparency is the only way to have a strong relationship. I like you, I'd like to see you stick around." The last part was said with no small hint of amusement, so Les thanked him quickly and hung up. He turned to go back into the bedroom and wait for Gia to finish her hair, but stopped short when he saw her standing in the doorway, an unreadable expression on her face.

"Who was that?" she asked, frowning.

Transparency. Apologize. Don't spare her feelings.

"Vaughn." Her face showed surprise, but she didn't speak so he continued. "I wanted some advice on how to dig myself out of this hole."

She considered that a moment, then asked, "Did he help?"

Instead of answering, Lester took her hand and led her to the couch, sitting next to her. He sighed and rubbed his scalp before speaking.

"I'm sorry. I overreacted , it was uncalled for and you didn't deserve my suspicion." He held his breath, trying to prepare himself for her rejection and readying himself to beg her for one more shot.

She nodded, not looking at him, before picking up his hand. "Do you remember," she asked softly, "what I told you the night we had our first date, after you waited to see what I'd do when Dickie tried to pick me up?"

Les searched his memory and deflated even more. "You said we need to work on trusting each other." He felt ashamed; not only of his actions but that he couldn't be what she needed. He wasn't what she deserved.

Giana saw the emotions flashing across his face and scooted closer, sliding onto his lap. Lester's arms immediately went around her waist and he buried his face in her neck, holding desperately to the only thing he wanted.

"I think," she said gently, stroking his back slowly, "that our story is going to have lots of chapters. I don't think it's going to be simple, or always easy, and I think we're going to need to work at it…but I want to. I need this to work, Lester, because I love you. If you need reassurance, I can understand that and I can provide that, in whatever way you need me to. What I can't do is constantly defend myself, and I can't read your mind. You have to be honest about what you're feeling, when you're feeling it. I'm on your team, baby, and I want to support you the same way you want to support me." She cupped his face and raised his head so she could look into his eyes. "I love you, Les. A lot. A bellhop isn't going to tempt me away from you." She smiled, intending for the last part to lighten the mood, but Lester only dropped his eyes and tried to burrow back into her body.

Giana leaned back, eyebrow raised expectantly. He could only shrug and mumble, ashamedly, "But what if someone else does?"

She felt, viscerally tasted, her heart fracture. Lester was a soldier, trained to power past and wade through every emotional grid. He had also been trained, first by his mother and then by his girlfriend, that his love wasn't always reciprocated and that he wasn't worth sticking around for.

"Impossible." She whispered past the lump in her throat. "You make me happy, every day. You are loyal and trustworthy and so loveable…and I'm all those things, too. As much as you care for me? I care for you the same way. You have my word, it's only me and you from now on."

Lester took a moment to consider what she was saying; he was, he knew, greedy for her love. The years he'd gone, flitting from woman to woman, had drawn focus away from the burning need he felt, now, with her, to be loved. Now that Giana loved him, learning to navigate his feelings of jealousy would be a necessity, one he doubted he'd be particularly good at, but he would try. For her, he would try anything.

With a reluctant nod, he whispered, "I'm sorry. I'll try," and when she smiled and rewarded him with a kiss and a "We'll try. Together.", he knew they would be all right.

I listened to John Hiatt's 'Have a Little Faith In Me' while I wrote this; it's beautiful, and if you're in the mood for a new love song, I'd recommend it