THIRTY-ONE

Three more days passed. I tried very hard not to panic or go mad from boredom. As the sun set, I heard tires crunching on gravel and immediately peeked out a window. My heart skipped a few beats when I saw my pickup truck pull to a stop in front of the cabin and Ranger climb out.

Clinging to some modicum of dignity, I refused to allow my feet to rush me out the door and into Ranger's arms. Instead, I walked calmly into the bathroom, tossing my few articles of toiletries back into a black bag and zipping it up. Then I gathered my clothes from the bedroom, practically running into Ranger's chest as I turned around to exit.

"Ready to go, I see," he quipped. Dark circles rimmed his eyes and his beard grew two days past five o'clock shadow territory. It reminded me eerily of how he'd looked in the ICU.

"Is Greenridge in jail?" I asked, heart thumping as the words left my mouth.

Ranger stood motionless for a second, then shook his head. "He was found this afternoon, dead in his car from a self-inflicted gunshot wound. He took the coward's way out."

I locked eyes with Ranger. "Self-inflicted?"

"Yes," Ranger replied, his gaze unwavering. "I told you I would try your way first. And I kept that promise. I tracked down the man in the photos Rossi gave you. That took the better part of two days. Once I turned him over to Morelli, things snowballed. Didn't take long for Morelli to crack him," something close to admiration crept into Ranger's voice. "And not only did he implicate Greenridge in the drug ring, but a bunch of cops, including Lucas. He also confessed to nailing your window shut, setting your apartment fire, and arranging to ambush us and destroy our bodies in a warehouse fire, all on Greenridge's orders."

"Morelli told you this?"

Ranger shook his head. "Someone hacked into the PD's system and downloaded the video of the interrogation, then leaked it to the press."

"Someone?" I repeated, my eyebrows creeping toward my hairline.

A half smile turned up the corners of Ranger's lips. "Someone," he repeated back. "And once the media had it, well, it went viral. When the cops turned up at Greenridge's house to bring him in for questioning today, they found him slumped over behind the wheel."

"Conveniently dead of a self-inflicted gunshot wound," I finished.

"You don't believe me?" Ranger's brow furrowed as he asked the question.

I opened my mouth to tell him I did, but closed it without any sound escaping. I wanted to believe Ranger, but a small amount of doubt lingered. It would always linger. It seemed I'd gotten snarled in his complicated past as much as him. "It doesn't matter," I finally said. "With Greenridge gone, you can take me out of this hillbilly hell."

"It matters to me, Babe. When I give you my word on something, I mean it. You doubted my commitment at the first opportunity you got. And now you doubt me about this. This isn't going to work if you can't trust me."

"I do trust you!" I returned. "I trust you with my life all the time. And I trusted you to keep my family safe these past few days."

"But you don't trust that I'm telling you the truth."

I sighed, not wanting to get into an argument with Ranger within hearing distance of his employees. "I want to. I'm trying to, but trust takes time."

"What can I do to speed up the process?"

"It'll come with time," I reiterated with a small smile. "Just the fact you care about building trust helps." Reaching up, I caressed the side of his face, fingers playing over the coarse stubble of his beard. I flushed lightly as I considered how his rough face might feel on other, more sensitive, parts of my body.

"I don't know what just crossed your mind," Ranger remarked with a slow smile, suddenly pulling me against him, "but I think I'd like to find out."

"Take me home and I might just tell you," I teased, dodging a kiss.

"Hmmm," he murmured into my neck. "I'm not sure I want to wait that long. Stay here," he ordered, peeling himself away and leaving the bedroom. I heard him dismiss his men, letting them know he'd lock up and escort me home after I finished packing. An engine caught outside, leaving Ranger and I completely alone in the middle of nowhere.

Ranger stalked back into the bedroom, a feral glow behind his dark eyes. His expression sent a hot wave of arousal through my entire body, culminating between my legs with a dull ache. We closed our distance, Ranger crushing my body against his. I tipped my head upward, capturing his lips greedily. Ranger returned my eagerness tenfold, his tongue darting into my mouth and setting my blood on fire. The tension of the last few days slowly ebbed as I surrendered myself to the passion.

The backs of my knees hit the edge of the bed, Ranger controlling my descent with an arm wrapped tightly around my waist. As soon as my back sunk into the mattress, he slipped my jeans off in one swift motion. His eyes swept up my bare legs, a predatory smile curling his lips as he focused on my black cotton underwear. Like everything purchased by Ella, the word 'Rangeman' had been stitched into the fabric.

"I like my name on you," he remarked as he leaned over, brushing a kiss against the inside of my right knee. His mouth worked northward, my breathing becoming more and more erratic with each agonizing inch, until finally he kissed my sex through the fabric. I moaned, my fists pulling at the comforter beneath me.

"Is this what you were thinking about?" he asked, gazing up at me.

I felt myself flush again as I nodded, earning a smile from Ranger. Dragging the cotton aside, his lips felt like fire against my flesh. My gasp filled the silence as his tongue circled me, sending tingling vibrations through my core. He pulled away, ripping my panties down my legs before returning his mouth between my legs. I writhed against the comforter as his course of sucking, licking, and gentle nipping overwhelmed my senses. With a euphoric cry, my world came undone at the seams for a few heavenly seconds.

Panting, I tried to collect myself as Ranger pulled away. He shot me a glance that simmered with unbridled arousal. I moved to pull my shirt off, expecting our encounter to continue, but he stopped me. I gave him a questioning look as he handed me back my panties and jeans.

"The closest neighbor is ten acres away," Ranger remarked. "That's why this is a perfect safe house. Excellent privacy." He tossed something onto the bed and I glimpsed the fob for my truck.

My mouth formed an 'O' as I finally grasped his meaning.

"Time to pay up, Babe," he growled.

"What do you mean, I'm not getting a cut of Fortecelli's bond?" I yelled at Vinnie, who's head hung around the doorframe of his office.

"You didn't bring him in," Vinnie shot back.

My mouth dropped open. "If it weren't for me, the cops never would have known to dredge the river to find him!" It had taken a few days of dredging before the body turned up, then another week for the ME to make a positive identification. But Vinnie would get his bond back, now that Fortecelli was legally declared dead.

"That was just luck."

My vision went red. I needed my cut of Fortecelli's bond to refurnish my apartment. Whenever they finally left me move back in. Last update from Dillion didn't make it sound like repairs were keeping to schedule.

"I suppose it was also just luck that I saw you on Stark Street yesterday, striking a bargain for your lunch meeting," I returned. Yanking my cell phone free of my purse, I pretended to push a few buttons. "Got some really clear photos…"

Vinnie paled. I hadn't actually been anywhere near Stark Street yesterday, but Vinnie didn't know that.

"Fine. Fine. Connie, cut her a check." Vinnie's door slammed, so I took it to mean conversation over.

Connie grinned as she wrote out the check. "Nice bluff," she mouthed at me as she handed me my due.

Pocketing the check, I drove back to Rangeman. Feeling incredibly happy after my pay day, I breezed through the door into Ranger's apartment, calling out playfully, "Honey, I'm home."

Ranger emerged from the kitchen, a delicious aroma following him. He pulled me against him and laid a blistering kiss on my lips. "I know you were teasing, but I do like hearing you call this place home."

I sighed, worried this line of thought would lead to an encore of our discussion from the night before. Ranger had asked me to consider dropping the lease for my apartment and living with him on a permanent basis. I'd flatly refused. The ensuing conversation just barely avoided crossing the line into an argument. Dodging the topic, I instead asked, "What did Ella bring for dinner? It smells delicious."

"Ella has the night off," Ranger reminded me.

"Takeout?" I asked. No takeout I'd ever eaten smelled this good.

Ranger shook his head before replying, "Fricasé de pollo. Though it's not as good as my mother's."

"You cooked?" I asked, jaw dropping.

"You can cross it off your bucket list now," he replied dryly.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "You aren't trying to bribe me into living here, are you?"

Ranger laughed. "Always so distrustful. No, I'm not trying to bribe you. This may be a one time event," he warned. "Once I'm cleared to go off these light duty work hours, I won't have time to cook, even if I did want to."

I helped set the table and Ranger carried out a large earthen bowl filled with a Cuban chicken stew.

I took my first bite and gazed at Ranger incredulously. "Is there nothing you aren't great at?" The food tasted as delicious as it smelled. I couldn't imagine his mother's being better.

"Apparently, convincing you to live with me," he returned darkly.

I rolled my eyes. "Please, don't take it personally. I just…I need to feel independent."

"You don't feel independent here?"

For the second time in a few seconds, I sent him a disbelieving look. "I feel like a kept woman here," I returned honestly. How could he not see that?

"A kept woman?" A frown tugged at his lips. "That's really how you feel?"

"A little," I confessed. "For me, desperation breeds motivation. If I don't bring in skips, I'll go hungry, get my electricity turned off, and maybe get evicted. But here…well, Ella feeds me, and you're not going to evict me."

Ranger shook his head slightly, a hint of a smile on his lips. "I certainly don't want to stand between you and your independence."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "So no more discussion about me living with you?"

He nodded and we went back to eating, though a nagging sensation remained that we weren't truly done with discussing my living arrangements. When we finished, I volunteered to do the dishes. As I placed the last plate into the dishwasher, I heard someone knock on Ranger's door. Quiet conversation hummed from the entrance way.

"Babe, can you come here?" Ranger called from the foyer.

Drying my hands on a dishtowel, I stepped out of the kitchen, curious as to the nature of the intrusion. Usually Tank called Ranger if something went down involving Rangeman. Instead of Tank, I stopped dead as I glimpsed the female employee who had led me to jump to wild conclusions last week.

"Steph, this is Sam," Ranger introduced. "She needs your assistance with a job she has tonight."

"My assistance?" I stuttered.

Sam nodded emphatically. "I'm supposed to try to cozy up to a sleaze ball we suspect is embezzling money from his father-in-law's business. When I asked Tank what I should wear to the bar, he told me to aim for bimbo."

"It's not Vinnie, is it?" I asked Ranger alarmedly.

"Vinnie?" Sam repeated back.

Ranger bit back a smile. "Believe it or not, Babe, Vinnie isn't the only sleaze ball in Jersey swindling his in-laws."

"Okay, but I'm still not sure why you need my help," I told Sam. "Sounds pretty straight forward to me."

Sam sighed. "I'm not exactly well versed in the feminine arts. I'm more comfortable in army fatigues than a dress. I can do sexy, but when you start throwing around words like bimbo, I'm in over my head. Is that like a slut? Or more a prostitute? Tank said you could probably explain it to me better than him."

I wasn't sure if I should take that as a compliment or not. "You're not from Jersey, are you?"

Sam shook her head. "Is it that obvious?"

"Okay, what clothes do you have to work with?" I asked.

Sam hefted a large, paper Macy's bag into my arms. I peeked inside and immediately saw several promising articles of clothing. Sam might not be as hopeless as she thought. I carried the bag into Ranger's living room and began sorting through it, laying out various outfit combinations on the floor.

"I'm really sorry about last week," Sam said softly as she watched me work. "I know it's my fault you and Ranger got ambushed."

I shifted uncomfortably. "There's nothing to apologize for. The misunderstanding was entirely my fault." I surveyed the four outfits I had laid out on the floor. "So, a bimbo is a lot more than just clothes," I explained. "Sure, a bimbo dresses provocatively, but it's also an attitude. Imagine a valley girl with a Jersey accent. Not much going on between the ears."

"But not a prostitute?" Sam asked.

"No. A bimbo isn't looking for money for services. But she's looking for bragging rights, so a man's wealth would certainly attract her. Which bar are they sending you to?"

As Sam answered, I pointed to one of the outfits. "Go put that on. Then I'll help you with your makeup."

"Makeup?" Sam asked hesitantly.

"Yep. Another hallmark of a bimbo is excessive makeup."

Sam disappeared into Ranger's guest bathroom with her assigned outfit while I folded the remaining clothes. Once Sam emerged, pulling awkwardly at her mini skirt, I showed her how to apply thick globs of eye liner, mascara, and eye shadow before handing her a curler for her long blonde hair.

"Twirl your hair around your finger when you talk," I instructed, giving her a final once over. "And try not to use words over two syllables. If he thinks you're faking the dumb thing, you're going to tip him off."

"I'm so nervous," Sam confessed. "I wish you were going to be the one talking in my ear tonight. I'm not sure how much help Tank is going to be."

"You'll be fine," I assured her, though I didn't necessarily believe it myself.

I sighed as I shut the door behind Sam, leaning against it heavily. Ranger gave me an amused look from his spot on the sofa where he'd been studiously ignoring us in favor of his laptop.

"You found that funny?" I sniped. "She's your employee. If she blows it tonight, I don't want any of the blame."

"I found that entertaining, but also illuminating," Ranger replied.

I raised my eyebrows in his direction.

Ranger waved me over. "I want to show you something."

I sank into the couch next to him and he angled his laptop so I could see it easier. A logo blazed across the screen. "Rangewoman," I read. The lettering appeared identical in size and style to the Rangeman logo, except that the letters in Rangewoman were purple. "Very clever name. How did you ever think of it?"

Ranger nudged me gently for my sass. "It's occurred to me that I might be losing potential customers, especially among females, who may feel intimidated by my all male workforce."

After experiencing a guy with a tear drop tattoo sent to install security features at my apartment, I agreed with his assessment. "Your guys intimidating? Never." I jumped away before Ranger could elbow me again.

"I've decided to create a new division, staffed by women, that caters to those clients," Ranger explained. "Rangewoman seemed the obvious choice in name."

I had to admit, the idea held great potential. Ranger often put me on jobs that required a female touch, even asking me to walk through homes to determine the types of security systems a woman would find most appealing. "So I guess that means I need to prepare myself for walking in on you feeling up more female employees?"

Ranger shook his head. "I promise you, that will not happen again. Besides, I plan to hire a woman to oversee Rangewoman, so she'd get the pleasure of wiring up her employees."

"Have anyone in mind?" I asked.

"As a matter of fact, I do," he replied, giving me a serious look.

It took a few seconds for me to catch his meaning. "What? Me? Are you insane?"

"No, you're the logical choice. You've worked for me on plenty of occasions performing the exact services Rangewoman will offer."

"I don't know how to run a division of a company! I can barely handle being a bounty hunter."

"Steph, you just taught Sam how to play the part of a bimbo in half an hour."

"That's different. That was just me imparting natural skills."

Ranger rolled his eyes. "Babe, that's exactly what I'm looking for in the person to run Rangewoman."

"You can't…really…seriously?" Words seemed to fail me.

Ranger laughed. "Yes, I'm serious. It'll be a few more months before Rangewoman is ready to launch, anyway. Just think about the offer, okay?"

I narrowed my eyes at him as a new thought popped into my head. "Wait, this isn't a pity offer, is it? I told you at dinner I needed to feel independent, so you're offering me a job in hopes it means I won't move out?"

Ranger closed his eyes, a look of exasperation passing across his features. "Trust, Babe. I wish you'd trust me."

"I do!" I protested, but he silenced me with a finger to my lips.

"Then why do you think I must have an ulterior motive to offer you the Rangewoman position?"

"Because I bumble my way through life. I'm not an asset to a business. I'm a liability."

"Babe." Ranger pushed his laptop onto the table and took my face in his hands, forcing me to meet his eyes. "I wish you could see your own value, the way I do."

"Ranger, your men bet on how I'll destroy my next vehicle. That's not someone you want running half your company."

"Yet not a single one of them ever question me when I bring you in on a job," he replied. I figured now was not a good time to point out that was probably because he intimidated the hell out of them, even Tank. "You look at the world in a different way, Babe. A way that leaves me in awe, which is why I've asked you to do jobs for Rangeman time and time again. You thought to look for baking pans in Fortecelli's apartment. I never would have thought to do that. And then you raised the theory that Cookie might be his girlfriend."

"But I was wrong about that…"

"So? I'm wrong about lots of things, Babe. You still thought outside the box. You're exactly the type of person I want running half my business."

"If I accept," I stated tentatively, "I'm still moving back into my apartment."

"I'm not asking you not to."

I sighed. "Okay, I'll think about the Rangewoman position," I promised.