ELEVEN

I knocked on the door to Ranger's seventh floor apartment at five of six. His mother answered it and greeted me with a warm hug and a kiss on each cheek. The most wonderful aroma drifted out into the hallway.

"What smells so good?" I asked as I entered and she took my coat.

"Oh, it's just ropa vieja," she replied, the name trilling off her tongue.

I had no idea what that was, but if it tasted as good as it smelled, I didn't care.

Ranger relaxed on his couch, a hockey game on his big screen TV. He wore black military fatigues and a black t-shirt, still managing to look sexy as hell. He smiled when he saw me, gingerly moving into a sitting position and patting the newly open spot next to him.

"I see we're still married," he quipped, eying up the gold rings with an amused expression.

"I've tried everything," I moaned. "They are really stuck."

"Word on the street is you married Morelli. Not going to take long before he gets wind of that."

"The Burg rumor mill works faster than the word on the street," I replied with a grimace. "Both my mom and Morelli were inundated with calls the moment I set foot in public yesterday."

Ranger's smile grew. "And how'd that go?"

"My mother has now ironed every piece of fabric in the house. And Morelli can barely stand to kiss me while I'm wearing rings from another man."

"I counted on him going off the deep end, but I didn't think it would bother him that much," Ranger replied, looking pleased. "So, tell me about this skip you've hit a dead end with."

"George Fortecelli," I replied.

Recognition crossed Ranger's face. "Let me take a wild guess. Arson charges?"

I narrowed my eyes at Ranger. "That's a little too good for just a wild guess, even for you."

"About a year and a half ago, Rangeman got called in to set up some basic security features for CampTech. They'd had some issues with someone setting fires in their dumpsters. No one ever got hurt and nothing major damaged, but after the third incident their CEO decided heightened security might not be a bad idea. He also asked us to see if we could find the culprit, as he suspected it was one of his employees. George Fortecelli made the short list, but we could never find anything to tie him, or any other employee, directly with the fires. The new security cameras put a stop to any further incidents."

"He must have quit CampTech not long after," I put in. "That was his last known employer, and, at least on paper, he hasn't worked anywhere for nearly a year. You don't happen to still have anything on Fortecelli from that investigation?" I asked. "Even just an address would be helpful. The one he gave Vinnie is an empty lot."

"I'll check, but CampTech could probably give you an old address from his file."

"I already tried that. The guard turned me away at the gate and when I tried to call to set up an appointment I was told employee files are confidential."

"I'll put in a call to their CEO."

"Thanks. But that's not everything about Fortecelli. When Lula and I checked out the property he put up for his bond today, we found three greenhouses full of marijuana. And this wasn't some redneck operation. We're talking totally off the grid: solar panels, well water, automatic sprinklers, sunlamps. Unfortunately, no stoned out Fortecelli to take in."

"Well now you know how he's been earning a living the past year."

I shook my head. "Something feels very off. He got caught on a bar's surveillance camera lighting a trash can on fire, and it ended up burning down the condemned building next to the bar. If anything, Fortecelli did the neighborhood a favor. A decent lawyer could probably plea down the felony charge to a misdemeanor with community service. So why did he skip bail and risk not only losing his property and greenhouses, but also getting charged for growing and distributing?"

"No one can run an operation of that size without help, so he's got to have business associates. I'll put some feelers out, see what I can find. You're right about something feeling off."

Ranger's mother called us to the table and I heaped my plate high with homemade Cuban food. Ropa vieja turned out to be delicious shredded stewed beef and vegetables served over rice. The glass of red wine next to my plate seemed to magically refill itself, leaving me feeling really good by the end of dinner.

"That was delicious," I told Mrs. Manoso. "I've never had Cuban food before."

She shot Ranger a disapproving look. "Carlos, you've never offered to cook for Stephanie?"

I almost choked on my wine. "You can cook?" I asked incredulously. Ranger caught my eye across the table, and his glare clearly said I'd die a horrible and slow death if this conversation left this room.

"Of course he can cook," his mother replied. "I taught all my children how to cook. Carlos, you must offer to cook sometimes. I'm sure Stephanie cooks for you all the time."

Ranger grinned at me as I squirmed in my chair. "We both keep odd hours," I told Ranger's mother, eager to reroute the conversation topic. "It's difficult for either one of us to find the time."

"Work, work, work," she said, turning to Ranger. "It's all you young people think about. When are you going to think about settling down and starting a family?"

Ranger went rigid. "Mama, we've discussed this," he said with a tone of finality that would have terrified anyone. Except, apparently, his mother, who just shrugged.

I volunteered to help with the dishes as Ranger's mother banished him back to the sofa to rest. As I dried the last pot, Ranger's mother turned to me and said, out of the blue, "don't give up on him, dear."

I blinked, my eyebrows moving up of their own accord. "Sorry, what?"

"He loves you, but he's too self-sacrificing and stubborn. He doesn't think he deserves to be happy. But he's slowly coming around, realizing he wants you in his life. A mother knows these things." She tapped the side of her head as she left the kitchen.

I stood in shocked silence for a few seconds before I followed her into the living room.

Ranger's apartment contained only one bedroom, so he'd arranged for his mother to stay in one of the studio apartments on the fourth floor. Around ten, she excused herself to return to her accommodations.

"I like your mother," I told him after she left.

"I apologize for her comment at dinner," he replied. "She was out of line."

I gave him an astonished look. "Have you met my mother?"

Ranger's lips curled into a half smile. "There isn't a lot in this world that scares me, but the thought that my mother and your mother might happen to meet terrifies me. We'd be dragged before a priest and married before we knew what was happening."

"Good to know the thought of marrying me terrifies you," I teased.

"Because you're so eager to run down the aisle?"

I sighed. "We're both screwed up," I conceded. "I should get going," I told him, standing.

"You had wine. You should stay," he urged, pulling me back onto the sofa.

"I'm fine to drive now. And you need to rest, doctor's orders."

"I can rest with you next to me."

I shot him a disbelieving look.

"I know my limitations. Stay the night?"

"I wouldn't be able to look at your mother tomorrow morning."

Ranger chuckled. "If you aren't here tomorrow morning, my mother's going to scold me for not inviting you to stay."

"I wouldn't want to be the cause of you getting scolded by your mother," I replied with a grin.

Ranger placed a chaste kiss on my forehead and gingerly got off the couch and headed for the bedroom. Clearly, the movement caused him pain.

"You should take the pain pills the hospital gave you," I suggested, following him into the bedroom.

He shook his head. "Too easy to get hooked on that stuff. Time is as good a medicine as anything," he said as he disappeared into his dressing room.

I couldn't argue that point with him.

Ranger reemerged into the bedroom a few minutes later, wearing black silk boxers that rode low on his hips and nothing else. A large square bandage decorated his left side and another taped on his lower back.

"I'm not going to have to fight you off, am I?" he asked.

I blinked, realizing too late I'd been staring. I hurried into the bathroom. A pink toothbrush, still in its wrapping, sat on the marble vanity next to a hair brush. I brushed my teeth, washed my face and brushed out my hair. There were clothes in Ranger's closet for me. I'd stayed in his apartment enough times that Ella kept it stocked, though everything had Rangeman sewn onto it. I found a pair of cotton shorts and a t-shirt and slipped them on before returning to the bedroom. I turned off the lamp on the nightstand closest to me, plunging the room into darkness, then I crawled into bed.

Ranger laid on his right side, waiting for me. I scooted over to him and he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me tight against his chest. He tilted my chin upwards, laying a gentle kiss on my lips.

"Goodnight, Babe."

"Goodnight," I replied automatically.

My mind kept me awake for a good while, cocooned in Ranger's warmth under the covers. I'd shared a bed with Ranger many times. A few of those times platonically. This felt different. This felt…domestic. Lula's words echoed inside my brain. His mother's words bolstered Lula's observation. Lula thought I'd tamed him. His mother thought he wanted me in his life. And now here I was, asked to spend the night with no strings attached. Could they both be right?

I woke to the soft sound of clinking pots and pans in the kitchen. I lay on my back, one of Ranger's arms over my chest as he slept on his stomach next to me. I glanced at the bedside clock and saw 6:45 and groaned internally. I tried to fall back to sleep, but my mind decided the day should start now.

Thoughts of George Fortecelli rattled around my brain, trying to puzzle out why I had a such a bad feeling in my gut when it came to his case. Then my mind wandered to the man in bed next to me, and what I wanted to do to the man in bed next to me. I internally chastised myself. He'd been shot a week ago, Stephanie, what is wrong with you? And his mother is in the kitchen! I pushed away those thoughts, as they could lead nowhere good. I should probably get out of bed, as direct proximity to Ranger never helped keep my thoughts chaste.

I tried to gently slide to the edge of the bed, but Ranger's arm tightened around me, pulling me back against him. He cracked one eye open.

"Bit early for you, isn't it?" he asked, his voice husky from sleep.

"I can hear your mom in the kitchen. I can't get back to sleep."

He nuzzled my neck, kissing along my collar bone, and suddenly sleep became the farthest thing from my mind. His mouth moved up my neck and across my jaw until his lips found mine. His kisses stayed light, though, and soon he pulled away.

"I have you in my bed and I can't do what I want to you. Do you know how frustrating that is?" he murmured in my ear.

I did. Of course, the only reason I'd agreed to stay in his bed was because I'd known nothing could come of it. But that did nothing to cure the ache between my legs.

Ranger reluctantly let me go and rolled to his back. I caught him grimace, ever so slightly, as he slowly pushed himself into a seated position. I didn't like that he was in pain. It reminded me how close to death he'd truly come.

"I'm not sure I like how you're looking at me," he said as he swung his legs out of bed. "You're too serious. I prefer it when you look at me and get all hot and bothered."

I pushed myself up onto my elbows, then scooted over to get out of bed. "This is serious. You got shot. I thought you were going to die." I blinked back tears, unsure why I suddenly felt so emotional.

"But I didn't die. So why does it still bother you?" he asked as he crossed the room, moving toward me.

"Because you told me you took the bullet for me. Do you think I want to live with that kind of guilt? You should have just let me get shot."

"You're right. I should have just let you get shot."

That stunned me into silence. Ranger closed the gap between us and locked his eyes with mine.

"I should have let you get shot," he repeated. "You were there on a Rangeman assignment to protect our client. If it had been Tank, Lester, Bobby, or any of the guys in your position, I would have let him get shot while I drew my sidearm to take out Aaron."

"So why didn't you?"

"You know why." Ranger's fingers softly brushed the side of my face. "The same reason you gave me your blood. You wouldn't have done it for any of the others."

I opened my mouth to argue that I would have, but the lie died on my lips. Ranger was correct. Probably, that made me a horrible person. "I would have sold my soul in that moment, if it meant keeping you alive," I whispered instead.

"I know." He pulled me tightly against him for a few minutes. "You make my instincts override my training, and that's not good in a business like mine."

"You aren't going to ask me to do any more jobs for Rangeman, are you?"

Ranger nodded. "I've worked hard to build Rangeman into what it is today. I can't let my personal feelings for you endanger that. I'm sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry for, I understand." And I really did. Most of my interactions with Ranger involved Rangeman jobs, so I also understood it would distance us. And maybe that was for the best. I didn't know if I wanted to be responsible for domesticating Ranger. Some creatures were better off left wild. "So, what are you going to do when you have jobs that require a feminine touch?"

Sighing, Ranger replied, "I'm hiring a woman to be on staff full time. I already have Tank interviewing some potential candidates."

"Replacing me," I mumbled, meaning to make it sound like a joke but failing miserably.

He tiled my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze. "No one can replace you," he told me, voice forceful.

Ranger let me shower first. I hopped out, towel dried my hair as best as I could, and dressed in Rangeman embroidered clothes from the dressing room. I followed an amazing smell into the kitchen and found Ranger's mom making omelets for breakfast. I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat down at the dining table. Ranger joined me ten minutes later, his hair damp, dressed in black fatigues and a black t-shirt again.

After breakfast, I stood up and announced that I needed to go. Weekends didn't mean much to bounty hunters. I tracked down skips whenever the opportunity arose. Plus, I needed to go grocery shopping and do laundry at my mom's house.

Ranger's mother gave me a warm hug.

"It was so good to finally meet you, Stephanie. I hope we will meet again, under much better circumstances. Please, check in on Carlos after I leave to make sure he's not overdoing it."

I told her I would, though I doubted very much that Ranger would let me check in on him if he didn't want me to. Not to mention the fact that he and I being alone in the apartment might lead to him overdoing it.

"And remember what I told you last night in the kitchen," she said as I put on my coat and grabbed my purse.

"What did you tell her last night, Mama?" Ranger asked warily.

"Never you mind," she replied.

Ranger shot me a look and I knew he'd wheedle it out of me the first chance he got.