Thanks so much for the reviews - keep them coming! I tried to respond to each, but if I didn't get you, know that I sincerely appreciate your time reading and reviewing.

Rating for smut (this chapter) and language; don't own them, will return them, etc.

Quick clarification: I am not a shithead (Sam!). Or at least, I don't think I am. When I said this story is pre-written, I mean that most of the chapters are complete. There is still a lot of work to be done, however – last minute checks and edits, changes based on the reviews, etc. So the every day or every other day timeline is still very tight, and will become even more difficult as the Spring semester gets underway. The next person to call me names in a review (Sam!) is going to get a cupcake ending! Ohhhh….. (you know I love you, babe :)

Part of this chapter was Christie's birthday present, so BC babes, you might recognize parts of it. Of course, I had to rip off that happy ending…

This chapter is set immediately post Plum Luck (the next day!)

March (ten months previously)…

Ranger stared at the photographs Lester had dumped on his desk. "Fuck."

"Yeah. The cop's an idiot."

Ranger scrubbed his hands over his face. He'd only been gone a few days, but hadn't slept more than an hour in that time. Nor had he been able to let down his guard for a second. That kind of vigilance exhausted him even more than the lack of sleep. To top it off, while he had been gone things had gone wrong in the Miami office - things that he was going to have to clean up. And now this. "Does she have any idea?"

"I don't think so." Lester waited as Ranger tried to decide what to do. "Are you going to tell her?" he said.

"She has a right to know."

"Let me know what you want us to do about the cop," Lester said as he walked out the door. It clicked shut behind him, leaving Ranger with the silence and the damn pictures. He flipped through them again. Fucking dumbass cop. A cop should be better at spotting surveillance, and shouldn't have let them catch him horizontal with a mob princess.

He stood and pulled his jacket on. Standing at the corner of his desk, he stared down at the incriminating snapshots, trying to decide if he should take them with him. Finally, he scooped them into a manila envelope and tucked it in the inside pocket of his jacket.

Going to Steph's on as little sleep as he'd had was probably a bad idea. But he didn't want to wait - he couldn't keep this from her.

It was snowing, just little flurries, but enough to slick the roads as he drove toward her apartment. He flipped the wipers and peered at an intersection that had lost power. The interior of the truck was stifling hot from running the defroster on full blast, but was silent. The only noise was the occasional swish of the tires slicing through the slushy muck coating the roads.

When he reached her parking lot, he pulled the gearshift to park and stared up at her window. The light pouring out of it gave off a cheerful, inviting glow. As he watched, he could see her shadow as she walked into the kitchen, and then back out a moment later. Hot cocoa. He'd bet money that she was pouring a mug of cocoa. It was just one of those kind of nights.

He knocked instead of picking the locks. When she opened the door, her eyes widened in surprise and he could hear her involuntary gasp of air. She had on a thick warm sweater, sweat pants, and her hair was tugged up in a messy ponytail. In her hand was a mug of steaming cocoa.

"Hey, I thought you were out of town."

"Just got back." He stared at her for another minute, drinking in her features, before he was no longer able to hold back the smile prompted by the sight of her. "Gonna let me in?"

"Oh!" She grinned at him and stepped back, opening the door wider for him. He followed her into the living room where she curled up on the couch under a blanket.

"Cold?"

She nodded, burying further into the blanket, and brought the mug to her lips. Only her nose and her eyes were showing. She lifted the mug towards him. "You want some?"

"Sure."

Her eyes widened again, making him smile. She started to wiggle her way out from under the blanket, but he stopped her. He dropped a kiss on the top of her head as he walked past. "I'll get it. Stay warm."

Her mouth was disguised by the steaming mug, but her eyes were smiling at him.

He tried to come up with a plan as he poured a mug for himself. He was too tired to figure out the least hurtful way to tell her. Really, any way he chose was bound to be bad. The phrase 'shoot the messenger' was running through his head. Not that he thought Steph would shoot him in a literal sense, but he wouldn't appreciate taking the cop's heat for this. Before he left the kitchen, just to be safe, he checked the cookie jar. Two guns were in there, both unloaded.

He sat down on the opposite end of the couch from her, and lifted her legs, still wrapped in the blanket, onto his lap. He took a sip of the cocoa and watched her over the rim of the mug.

"Last time you agreed to chocolate you were here to..." she trailed off, as though she had just realized what the end of that sentence was and her face flushed darkly.

He winked at her. "This isn't that kind of visit." Grabbing the remote off the coffee table, he started flipping through channels. He stopped on a hockey game and raised an eyebrow at her in question. She nodded, resting her head against the back of the couch.

"So where's the horse?"

A burst of laughter escaped her. "I guess back at home. Diesel's gone too, so you don't have to worry. But you saw the gate..."

He cut his eyes to her. "You're lucky I'm insured. I told the adjuster it was some crazy lady with PMS."

She bit her lower lip, trying to hide her amusement. "I'm sorry. He made me do it. I didn't want to--"

"It's okay, babe."

She smiled and studied him, as if knowing it wasn't his entire reason for showing up. He focused back on the TV, following the hockey puck around the screen, but didn't turn to look at her. Finally he realized he just had to spit it out. "Lester got suspicious and started trailing Morelli."

He felt her body stiffen. She didn't respond and he kept staring at the game, though he was no longer paying attention. Steph swung her bound legs off his lap and wrestled the blanket from around her. Once she was free, she stood and walked into the dining room.

He gave her a minute to collect herself before following her. Stopping in the doorway, he braced both hands above him on the doorframe, blocking her access to the cookie jar. She had her back to him, staring out the window at the lazy snowflakes.

"Do you want to know?" he said softly.

She took a deep breath - even from the back, he could see her straighten, bolster herself. She turned around and looked him in the eye. "Just give me a yes or a no."

He tilted his head, a fraction of a nod, but it was enough confirmation. She turned away from him, but not before he caught the sheen of tears in her eyes. He slowly flexed his hands, which had squeezed into tight fists without his even noticing. Stepping up behind her, he rested his hands on her shoulders and then watched, absently, as they tightened in a gentle pressure and then slid up and down the arms of her wool sweater. Her dark head dipped forward and her body drooped listlessly. With the slightest tug of his hands, she leaned back against his chest. Her hair, when he leaned down to press a kiss to her temple, smelled clean and fresh like her shampoo; her skin was cool and smooth under his lips. There was a stupid commercial playing on the TV, the laugh track sounding garishly inappropriate in the still apartment.

"You must think I'm a complete idiot," she said.

He wrapped one arm around her waist, anchoring her to him and used the other to push back the curls that had fallen out of her ponytail so he could speak directly into her ear. "No, I don't."

"Terry?"

"Yes."

She turned in his arms and pressed her face against his shirt. He closed a hand around the back of her head. "You can cry, you know."

She shook her head against his chest. "I'm too fucking mad to cry."

"Just say the word and I'll let the guys have him."

She leaned back far enough to look up at him. Her eyes were dark, her cheeks were pink. "Hell, no. I'll do that on my own. I'm just so fucking mad! I want to kick something or, or do...something." She trailed off, staring at his mouth with a startling intensity. The embrace in which he was holding her changed from comforting to sexual in a split second, the air around them crackling with sudden energy.

He tried to move slowly, to give her time to change her mind, but she lifted her head to meet his lips. Her hungry response drew an immediate reaction from his body. His tongue probed into her mouth, tasting her. She tasted sweet, just like she always did.

He rested his forehead against hers and smoothed his hands over her hair. She was staring up at him, her blue eyes darker than normal, pain and desire swirling in their depths until all he wanted to do lose himself in her.

"Don't go there," he said softly.

The tip of her pink tongue darted out to moisten her lips. He groaned. Somehow, she wiggled her way closer to his body, her hands pressed over his thundering heart, until they were touching from knee to chest.

"You're right," she said, her voice husky. "This wouldn't be fair to you."

"Fuck fair. I'm more worried about you." He had kept a very careful distance from Stephanie, emotionally, for both their sakes. This time it was even more necessary. She was vulnerable, she was in his arms, but still, he wasn't a big enough bastard to take advantage of her.

Though if he'd had anything more than mere momentary snatches of sleep over the past three days, his resolve would have been easier to keep.

Her lips brushed against his collarbone. "I won't regret it."

"Yes, you will." He stroked a hand over her back and kept repeating that in his head. She would regret it. Only a complete asshole would touch her right now.

A soft sigh escaped her as her fingers rose to touch his jaw. They carefully traced over the stubble and came to rest on the side of his neck. Under her fingertips, his pulse was pounding from the exertion required simply to hang on to his control.

She stood up on her toes, her entire body rubbing against his as she did, and brushed her lips across the other side of his jaw. He could feel her breath on his cheek as she spoke. "How could I ever regret you?"

His arms tightened around her, and he stared into her eyes, trying to judge her. They shimmered with tears she refused to cry in front of him, but there was no fear. No hesitation.

If he'd had sleep, he still could have walked away.

But as it was, the idea of Steph ready, willing, was too tempting. He grabbed her ass with both hands and hauled her closer, lifting her toes off the ground. She was so willing. This time it was her who deepened the kiss, her tongue that was exploring and tasting. Her nails sunk into his shoulders as she ground her hips against him.

He turned around, setting her on the edge of the dining room table. Her legs came up around her waist, pulling them even closer together. He met her lips again, the desire between them spreading, heating. One hand dropped to her breast, his thumb finding her pebbled nipple even through the thick sweater. She moaned and arched her back. The movement gave just enough room between for him to slip his hand down the front of her sweat pants. First brushing his fingers over her, he pushed inside. She was hot and wet. She was his.

Unable to stand it for another second, he stood upright, lifting her with him, and walked toward the bedroom. She yanked at his shirt as he walked. Her breathing was heavy as her clumsy fingers worked it out and then tried to undo his belt buckle. He tossed her onto the bed and wasted only a second getting his belt the rest of the way unfastened and his cargo pants unzipped. He grabbed the bottom of her sweat pants and yanked them off. Then he fell on top of her on the bed, reaching between them to tear off her panties in one smooth rip.

One last second of clarity reigned. "Are you sure?" he said, studying her, looking for any sign that she had changed her mind. There was none.

"I'm sure."

"Do I need a condom?"

A quick, negative shake of her head. Her breath was coming in choppy pants. "Pill."

He couldn't wait any longer. It'd been too long since he'd held her body beneath his, since he'd felt her. She winced when he pushed inside her. He paused, studying her face, and started to pull back when she whimpered and pulled him tighter. "No, stay," she whispered.

He pushed the rest of the way. Her inner muscles clamped down, making him groan aloud. He stilled and pushed her sweater over her head. Lifting her up, he pulled it off and laid her back down. She wasn't wearing a bra and his eyes were instantly drawn to her tightened nipples. He leaned down and gently flicked his tongue over one, making her gasp and arch her back. He waited until she relaxed before repeating the gesture on the other side. This time she moaned and tried to angle her hips. But he remained still, pinning her to the bed.

Her nails sunk further into his back. "Move," she said, arching her back up.

"Like this?" He pulled out, just a fraction of an inch before pushing back in, hard, until he was as far as he could go.

She groaned as her head fell back on the mattress. "Do it again."

"Look at me," he said, waiting for her to open her eyes. He wanted to make damn sure that she knew it was him, and not the cop, that was inside of her. And he'd keep fucking her until her face no longer bore that expression that said she deserved what Morelli was doing to her.

She held his eyes as he sped up, hers darkening and her breath coming faster as he pushed her closer and closer to the edge. And then he pushed her over, her head falling back and his name on her lips. He followed a second later and let his body sink down over hers.

While they waited for their heartbeats to return to normal, she sifted her fingers through his hair which had come loose. It slipped through her fingers and she rubbed the back of his neck. Her lips were moving across his collar bone.

When he lifted himself off of her, she made a sound of protest and tightened her grip on his shoulders. Smiling, he pressed a kiss to her temple. "One second, babe."

He sat up on the edge of the bed and unlaced his boots. He toed them off and shucked the cargo pants before laying back down beside her. Pulling the covers over both of them, he tucked her naked body tightly against his own. She sighed and sank into him, resting her arm over the one he had around her waist.

…

Steph concentrated on Ranger's fingers. They were lazy, slipping over the curve of her belly, down toward her hip, across her abdomen. They were feather soft, only the barest brushes with his finger tips. Up, down, over, back up...

But even though she was using all her concentration on that, rather than on what had just happened, her eyes still filled with tears. She blinked furiously, trying to clear them before he noticed. How stupid could she be? Ranger tells her Joe's cheating on her so she jumps him? She knew Ranger's stance on relationships, and she had fallen into bed with him anyway. Not just fallen - she had borderline begged him.

He was going to walk away in the morning, and she didn't know if her heart could handle it. In the span of an hour, both relationships might have just been ruined. Her and Joe's because he was a cheating bastard and her and Ranger's because she was a blithering idiot.

She could handle no longer have Joe in her life; she couldn't handle losing Ranger.

She sniffed before she could stop herself. Ranger's fingers froze in place. He removed his arm from around her and for a terrifying second she thought he was leaving. But he only reached up and pulled her hair aside. He pressed a kiss to the back of her neck, and then moved to kiss her cheek.

"Are you okay," he said softly.

She blinked back the rest of her tears and made sure her voice wouldn't crack before answering. "Yeah, I'm fine."

He lifted himself up onto an elbow and peered over her head. She started to shift away from him, but using his other arm, he pulled her closer. "Steph."

When she still didn't answer, he pushed on her shoulder, brining her over onto her back. Leaning down he kissed her, a soft touch of his tongue sliding across the seam of her lips. He rested his forehead against hers. "Still angry?"

She breathed a quick, inward sigh of relief and smiled at him. Joe was a much safer topic than what had happened between them. Or what was going to happen next. "I think I've burned off most of the anger. I'll come up with an appropriate revenge tomorrow."

"You have a lot of people willing to lend a hand."

She smiled at that. "If I wasn't terrified you guys would kill him, I'd take you up on that."

He grinned. "We can control ourselves." He leaned down and brushed a light kiss across her lips. His fingers moved over her ribs.

"Are you staying?" she said.

He raised an eyebrow and a hint of a wolf grin tilted his lips. "You're naked. Where on earth would I go?"

…

Steph woke up alone. She sat up, saw that the bedroom was empty, and flung herself back against the covers, disappointed, but not overly surprised. Glancing at the clock, her eyes opened wide - it was past eleven. But then again, she probably needed the sleep. Ranger hadn't let her sleep much during the night, and she was sore in enough places to prove it.

Coffee. That's what she needed. Emotionally and physically, she had been through a fucking ringer the night before, and she couldn't cope with any of it until she had coffee. She leaned over the edge of the bed and saw his black t-shirt. Not even thinking about why it was still there, she pulled it over her head and padded out of the bedroom.

She came to a fast stop, almost tripping over her own feet, when she was confronted with Ranger sitting on her couch. He was shirtless, and clicking away on a laptop. Their eyes held over the top of the screen and the moment stretched between them. She hesitated, unsure how to proceed. He looked serious. Much too serious for a man who had spent most of the night in the positions they had been in. But then his lips lifted in a small, intimate smile and her heart flipped over in her chest.

He glanced back down at the screen of his computer and the moment was broken. She blinked and shook herself out of her trance. Following her nose, she found a fresh pot of coffee and bakery bag.

She poured a cup, grabbed a boston creme and plopped down on the other end of the couch from him. She curled her legs under her and tugged his t-shirt over her knees.

"Morning, babe."

"Mmm."

He smiled at her before turning back to the computer.

"It's late. Why are you still here?"

He hesitated before saying, "I didn't want to wake you."

What he didn't say aloud, she realized, was that he also didn't want her to wake up alone. "Thanks."

"Do we need to talk about it?" he said after a minute.

She waved a hand in what she prayed was a casual gesture. "Don't worry. I know the drill."

He studied her a moment, his eyes intense. She turned away and fixed her attention on her coffee cup, trying not to let him see how badly she wanted him to deny it, to say no, this time was different.

"I should get to work," was all he said.

"Yeah, me too."

He stood up, and grabbed his jacket off the back of a chair.

"Do you want your shirt?" she said with a smile. Though it was a shame to cover that perfect chest.

"Keep it - it looks cute on you. I'll zip up the jacket. No one will notice." He patted the pockets and froze, staring at her.

"What?"

With an apologetic look on his face, he pulled a manila envelope out of his pocket. "Evidence. It's yours if you want it, or I can shred it. Either way, Lester and I are the only ones who have seen it."

Her fingers inched toward the envelope. She took it and sat frozen on the couch, staring at it, barely noticing when he stepped out the door. Finally, unable to resist, she tilted the envelope to the side. The pictures shook out easily, landing face up on the coffee table.

Pain seared through her chest as she stared at the photos. But the pain was quickly replaced by a burning anger. She didn't know what it was about her that made men think they could cheat on her, but she wasn't about to let Joe get away with it any more than she had let Dickie get away with it.

Then again, she had slept with Ranger last night, so maybe they should just call it a wash and end it. But it didn't escape her that had Ranger simply shown up, without this piece of information, she never would have landed in bed with him.

She sat back on the couch and tried to decide about her next course of action. In the span of 12 hours, she had found out that Joe was cheating on her, and had watched Ranger walk away. Again. For split second, though she would never admit it aloud, she entertained the thought of just shredding the envelope. Pretend she had never seen the pictures and just plow ahead. But she dismissed the thought - she had too much self-respect to stay with Joe after this.

She stood and took a deep breath, rubbed her clammy hands over her jeans, and grabbed the envelope, her keys and her purse. She let out another breath, trying to gather her courage, before walking to the door.

…

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