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TWENTY

Carefully, I stepped over my former front door. I wrote the kitchen off as a total loss, clearly unsalvageable. I made my way to my conjoined dining room and living room. The legs of the dining room table and chairs were charred, the carpet burnt away to reveal blackened floor boards. Nothing more remained of the sofa than a hunk of warped metal springs, and the television had melted. Where carpet remained, water puddled atop it. Black waves crept along the ceiling. Besides a burnt door, the bathroom looked exactly as I left it. My bedroom had moderate damage, mostly from smoke and water. The carpet squished under my feet. Glass still littered the floor from the window Ranger shot out.

"What's the plan?" Ranger asked.

"Grab my clothes, I guess. The smoke smell should wash out."

Truth was, I didn't have a whole lot of valuables to collect. I had a couple pieces of jewelry and my laptop, all of which happened to be in the bedroom. The old family photos all lived at my mother's house and everything more recent was digital and saved to the cloud. My messenger bag, only through dumb luck, had been in the bedroom and not in its usual spot on the kitchen counter, so at least my I.D., wallet, and birth control pills hadn't burned up. Not that my wallet contained anything of value either.

Ranger carried a bag of clothes down to his SUV while I continued to stuff more clothes and shoes into another trash bag. As soon as Ranger left, Morelli crouched down next to me.

"You don't have to stay with him, you know," he said.

"It's better than staying with my parents. At least Ranger has 24/7 security in case Fortecelli tries to strike at me again."

"You could stay with me."

I held up my left hand. "Thought the rings didn't do it for you?" Plus, I'd feel just as bad if I got Morelli's house burned down as I would if it were my parents' house.

"I think I just had to get over my shock." He put a hand behind my neck and pulled me close for a kiss.

"Anything?" I asked as he pulled away. I could already see the 'no' in his annoyed expression.

"They're just rings," he said, I think to himself. Then he kissed me again, this time with tongue.

Someone in the room cleared his throat. Morelli pulled away from me with a low growl. He grabbed a bag of shoes and carried it out of the room, ignoring Ranger.

"Don't look so smug," I scolded Ranger as I stood up. His face wore an amused half smile.

"I never pegged Morelli to be the kind of guy who balked at a woman with rings."

To be honest, neither had I. The Morelli men were infamous womanizers. A married woman simply presented a challenge, and I wasn't even really married. At one time in my life, I would have lumped Joe in with the rest of the Morelli men, but somewhere along the way he'd grown out of it.

"Maybe this is why he can't pull the trigger with you. Marriage turns him off," Ranger continued.

"I'm pretty sure it's only a problem because they're your rings."

"Technically, Tank picked them out."

"I'm sure that will fix it for Morelli," I replied sarcastically. "And don't put him down. There is something to be said for the morals of a man who respects a married woman."

"Are you insinuating I wouldn't keep my distance from a married woman?"

I shrugged. "You seem to think it wouldn't shock your family. Would you keep your distance, if the tables were turned and these were Morelli's rings?"

Ranger gave me a serious look. "You'd be off limits."

"Really?"

Ranger stepped closer to me and locked his gaze with mine. "Really. It's something you should consider if he ever pops the question."

I pulled my eyes away from his, unsure of how to respond. Instead, I scanned the dresses hanging in my closet. I would need something for Ranger's cousin's wedding. I selected a practical black dress, with cap sleeves, a modest neck line and hem that hit just past my knees.

"It's a wedding on a beach," Ranger quipped. "Not a funeral."

"You have a better suggestion," I grumbled, regretting it at once.

Ranger's eyes darted across my closet. He reached out and retrieved a silky cream dress with a navy-blue lace overlay. It had tiny spaghetti straps, a plunging v-cut neckline and a slightly flared skirt that just barely covered my ass. I'd clearly been feeling over-confident when I'd bought it.

"No."

"I took a bullet for you," he fired back, voice light.

"And I made sure you didn't bleed to death," I returned, pointing for him to return the dress to the rack.

"I'm buying your plane ticket."

I sighed. He had a valid point there. "We'll need to drop it at the dry cleaners."

Ranger grinned triumphantly and slung the dress over his arm.

Morelli returned and he and Ranger took a few more bags of clothes, shoes, bedding and toiletries out to the car. I would need to arrange for a storage locker and find a pickup truck to get the bedroom furniture out.

I stood in my soggy living room and looked around at the devastation while Morelli carried down the last bag.

"You okay?" Ranger asked softly.

"I shouldn't be, but I am. At some point, all this madness just got normalized."

I walked into the kitchen and found my blackened cookie jar. It had cracked in multiple places, caving in on itself. I picked away broken pieces of pottery and the charred remains of my bag of Chips Ahoy and found my .45 revolver. The barrel had melted to the side of the jar.

"For once, it was good you had no bullets," Ranger remarked, looking over my shoulder.

I sighed. "You bought me this gun. And you made sure I knew how to use it."

"Feeling sentimental?"

"A little."

Ranger put his hands on my waist from behind and kissed me behind my ear. "I'll buy you a new one, just like it. And a new cookie jar, too."

Without another look back, we left my barbequed abode. My burnt hand began to throb and my eyes stung from the smoky air. My stomach grumbled about lunch, or the lack thereof.

Outside, Morelli waited by his POS unmarked cop car. "Give me a sec," I said to Ranger as I walked over to Morelli.

"Thanks for helping," I told him. "You didn't need to."

"Yes, I did," he replied, grabbing my hips and pulling me close. "You and I have some stuff we need to work out, but I'm willing to let it wait. I don't like your current living situation, but even I admit it's probably the safest place you could be right now, short of a safe house. The DEA is raiding Fortecelli's property as we speak, so if you think he was pissed before, it's about to get worse."

"Great. You don't suppose he'll try to do anything to my parents, do you?"

"He tried to burn you alive in your own apartment. Who's to say what a lunatic like that will do? I've already requested extra eyes on your parent's place. But you might just want to lay low for now."

"Ranger had the same idea. He's taking me to Miami tomorrow. His cousin is getting married and he thought it best for me to get out of Trenton until the dust settles."

Morelli's brow furrowed. "I really want to hate that idea, but I can't." His cell phone buzzed and he looked at a new text message.

"More bodies on Stark Street?"

"Something like that. Just be careful, okay. We will talk when you get back." He locked his eyes with mine, tipped my chin up, and kissed me gently.

I walked back to Ranger.

"You tell him about Miami?"

"Yes, he doesn't like it, but even he admits it's probably best that I get out of dodge. The DEA is raiding Fortecelli's property right now." My stomach growled loudly as I finished talking.

Ranger grinned at me. "Hungry?"

"Starving. And my hand hurts."

"We'll stop at Walgreens and get what we need for your hand. There is a drycleaner across the street. Then lunch."

We parked in the Walgreen's lot and Ranger went into guard mode. He insisted I get out of the SUV, lest Fortecelli tried to torch it with me inside. We bought a bunch of bandages, a large bottle of aloe vera gel, and the strongest lidocaine cream on the shelf. Next, we dropped my lacy dress off at the dry cleaners. Then he drove us to a shady looking Thai restaurant only half a block from Stark Street.

"Why is it that every time you take me to a restaurant, it's a hole-in-the-wall kind of place?"

"Because those are always the best places."

"So this is good Thai?"

"It's amazing Thai."

I looked around the neighborhood. It wasn't the place I'd want to find myself after dark. "It looks sketchy."

Ranger grinned. "It's fine, Babe."

I angled out of the car. "So, I suppose you'd have no problem with me grabbing take out from here on my way home alone some night?"

"Not a chance in hell. But when you're with me, it's fine."

The restaurant had no seating, just a takeout counter. The walls were plastered with a hideous maroon wallpaper covered in elephants. There were elephants everywhere: printed on the menu, figurines on wall shelves, even an elephant end table holding a half dead ficus. Ranger ordered chicken sautéed with spinach leaves in a peanut sauce. I got chicken pad thai, with a side of fried taro root served with peanut sauce, and a deep-fried banana covered in honey for dessert.

By the time we walked into Ranger's apartment, drool practically cascaded down my chin from the smell of the Thai food.

"Forget the stuff in the SUV and my hand. Let's eat!" I exclaimed.

As I scraped the last tasty tidbit from my takeout container, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw my mother's number.

"Hi Mom."

"Stephanie! Did you tell Bonnie Kline you were married to Ranger?"

I pulled the phone away from my ear, fearing my mother's shouting might prove detrimental to my hearing. "I might have made a joke that may have made her think I'm married to Ranger," I replied into the receiver. Even holding the phone an arm's length away, I could hear her reply without any trouble.

"So, you think marriage is a joking matter?"

I sighed. "No, Mom."

"Then why in the world are you telling people you are married, when I've just spent the last week telling people you aren't married?"

"I'm not telling people. I said one thing to Bonnie Kline, and she sort of just assumed the rest." Okay, I may have helped a little with her assumptions, but still. It was just one person.

"Well Bonnie's telling people, and they're calling me! What am I supposed to do, Stephanie?"

"Unplug your phone?"

"If you ever want pineapple upside-down cake again, you will fix this."

That was not an idle threat. I squirmed in my chair, sweat forming on my forehead. I didn't want to face a future without pineapple upside-down cake.

"Do you have Bonnie's number?" I finally squeaked.

She did, of course. But I had nothing to write on or with. And with my right hand bandaged, I couldn't physically write anyway.

"Wait, wait, I need to find a pen and paper."

Ranger retrieved a pen and sticky note and stood by, ready to write down Bonnie's number for me.

"Okay, I'm going to put you on speaker," I told my mother, "so Ranger can write the number down for me."

"Why can't you write it down?" my mother asked as I changed the phone to speaker mode.

I squirmed some more. "Did I forget to tell you?" I asked innocently. "I burned my right hand this morning."

"You told me the fire started outside your apartment." My mother's voice sounded tense.

"Technically, it did. It started in my hallway, near the door. I burned my hand on the doorknob when I tried to open the door. That's how I bumped into Bonnie. She's an EMT."

My mother gave an exasperated sigh. "Everyone knows you're supposed to feel the face of the door for heat before touching the doorknob during a fire."

I did recall something about that from second grade fire safety class. Of course, things were a bit different at three in the morning, when you're half awake and think someone's just burned popcorn again.

"Okay, what's Bonnie's number?"

My mother recited Bonnie's number and Ranger copied it down. "Call her, now! And I'll know if you don't!" And my mother hung up.

Ranger looked like he was holding back laughter. I kicked him softly in the leg. "This is serious. Pineapple upside-down cake is at stake."

Still in speaker phone mode, I dialed Bonnie's number. It rang six times then went to voicemail. I left the lamest message in the history of voicemails. "Hi Bonnie, it's Stephanie Plum. I think there was a misunderstanding this morning. I'm not actually married. I was tired and in pain and just really confused from breathing all that smoke. So, if you could please stop telling people I'm married, my mom would really appreciate it. Thanks so much. Bye."

By the time I hung up, Ranger had walked into another room so the recording didn't catch his laughter.

I called my mother back. "Bonnie didn't answer, but I left her a voicemail telling her I'm not married."

My mother stayed silent for a few seconds, contemplating if I'd earned back pineapple upside-down cake privileges. I could see her perfectly in my mind's eye, an expression I'd memorized during my formative years. "Well, that's fixed then. Will you be over for dinner Saturday night? I'll make you pineapple upside-down cake."

It didn't escape my notice that she hadn't invited Ranger. "I can't," I breathed. "I won't be in town. I leave for Miami tomorrow. Ranger's cousin is getting married and I'm his plus one."

My mother went silent for a beat. "You're going to Miami? Stephanie, do you realize what people will say?"

"Have fun? Enjoy the sun? Lucky you?"

"Everyone will think you are honeymooning!"

In the background, I heard Grandma Mazur exclaim, "Stephanie's going on a honeymoon! How nice."

"Stephanie isn't going on a honeymoon." My mother's voice sounded muffled, her hand likely over the receiver.

Suddenly, a lot of unintelligible noise came from my mother's end before my grandmother's voice came over the line. "Where you going on your honeymoon?" she asked, having evidently wrestled the phone away from my mother.

"Miami, but it's not a honeymoon. I'm not married, remember."

"You still got those rings on?"

"Yeah."

"Then it's a honeymoon. Tell everyone it's a honeymoon. They'll give you free stuff."

I heard my mother huff in the background. "They will not. Stephanie, don't tell anyone it's your honeymoon," she shouted.

"I hear Miami is real nice," Grandma continued. "I bet there will be lots of sexy men walking around in those skimpy swimsuits. I bet you Ranger has one of those speedos. Boy, I'd love to see him in one of those, I bet he fills out one of those banana hammocks real nice."

My phone suddenly levitated out of my hand, as Ranger grabbed it and ended the call. "Your family terrifies me."

I grinned at him. "My Dad is pretty normal."

"Your grandmother more than makes up for that."

It took several trips to retrieve all the garbage bags full of my smoky clothes from Ranger's SUV. Ranger's housekeeper, Ella, stood waiting for us as we brought up the last bags.

"You can't wash all this for me," I protested.

"Of course I can," she replied. "You just had a fire. It's the least I can do. I'll wash your warm weather things first, so you're all ready for the weekend."

"Thank you so much!" And I launched myself into her for a grateful hug. Ella patted my back awkwardly. While Ranger showed his employees great respect, he certainly never hugged them.

Once I released her, Ella grabbed a bag in each hand and carted them back to the elevator. Ranger steered me into his apartment.

"You need to let me change the bandages on your hand," he said, pushing me into a dining room chair. He dumped the Walgreens bag onto the table and got everything ready before gently taking my hand.

"How bad does it look?" I asked, my eyes squeezed shut. My hand throbbed something fierce now that Ranger had taken the bandages off.

"Not too bad. You've got some blisters, but mostly just mild burns."

I cracked one eyelid open. The palm of my right hand shone a brilliant shade of cherry red. A large white blister had formed on my palm, just below where my middle and ring fingers joined my hand. Smaller blisters appeared on the tips of all my fingers. I groaned and returned my eyelids to the closed position.

I yelped as something cold touched my skin.

"I'm putting more of the Lidocaine cream on," Ranger explained. "I'm trying to be as gentle as possible, I promise."

"I was more surprised than hurt," I admitted.

"Might be less surprising with your eyes open."

I opened my eyes and watched Ranger finish treating my burns. I'd seen Ranger throw grown men across rooms, out windows, and once off the edge of a parking garage. Yet other times, like now, his touch felt incredibly gentle. He wrapped my palm and fingers, then wrapped my thumb separately, so at least I could perform a pinching action now. The Lidocaine and aloe creams were already working their magic, the pain fading away to pleasant numbness.

I spent the rest of the afternoon making phone calls, renting a storage unit and a U-Haul. Ranger assigned two lucky Merry Men to pick up the U-Haul, clean the furniture out of my apartment, and take it to the storage unit.