Disclaimer: Janet Evanovich owns all rights to the following characters. This story is intended only as artistic exercise and I am in no way profiting financially from it.

Warning: This story contains adult themes and language. Babe story.

Intentions of the Heart

Chapter: 6 Gluttonously Addicted

Previously:

He leaned back to look at my face, brushing the tears away from my cheeks with his thumbs, "You're the most incredible woman I've ever known … thank you, for loving me." He pressed the softest of kisses to my lips, the last kiss that we would ever share.

Kissing him goodbye was more poignant than words could have expressed.

But, in that moment I knew… it was time to let go.

Stephanie's POV …

Those three months without Ranger were an exhausting emotional rollercoaster. As soon as I seemed to be on stable ground, and tried to find my bearings the ride started again, throwing me headfirst into another series of unexpected loops and turns. I'd been through each stage of loss more than once, but there was one stage that had eluded me … acceptance.

Losing him was something that I would never be able to accept.

Despite the heartache, I realized something very important during that time... I was stronger than I had ever imagined. I could survive on my own. I didn't need someone to fall back on. I could stand on my own two feet and pick myself up whenever I would fall.

The first step was really letting go of Joe and the safety net that he symbolized. I had clung to our relationship for years out of fear of the unknown and breaking away was a little like riding a bike for the first time. It was scary and I didn't know if I would lose my balance and fall, but I took the risk, and it was worth the ride.

For years I battled with low self esteem and the belief that I needed someone to feel validated and successful in life. But, over those few months I learned that needing and wanting someone were two very different things.

Solely depending upon another person for happiness was like closing my eyes and letting them drive from the passenger seat. It was reckless and I was destined to either crash or end up some place I never wanted to go.

I was finally ready to control my own destiny.

Don't get me wrong. I wanted Ranger so much that it hurt… but I didn't need to be with him, or anyone else for that matter. For the first time in my life I was ready for a healthy relationship, a new start, and my chance to fly.

However, growing up and facing reality hadn't saved me from feeling… lonely. My deep-seeded emotional turmoil had given way to more primitive "needs" … and I was quickly becoming a danger to anything with the proper "equipment" and a steady pulse. Though, my fix was proving hard to find. I tried … believe me I tried, but I couldn't help but compare every man I came in contact with to Ranger, and inevitably they came up lacking.

Ranger had made good on his promise to "ruin me for all other men" … and at that moment I hated him for it. I mean, who does that? It was like offering someone a Tasty Cake and after they enjoyed their little slice of heaven, you tell them that they have been discontinued, and that they will have to spend the rest of their life trying to satisfy their craving with Twinkie's or Vanilla Wafers…

It was just cruel.

I flipped onto my back, kicking the covers off of my legs with a disgruntled sigh. I glanced over at the alarm clock and glared murderously at the obscene numbers. 1:00 a.m. People are only meant to see those numbers once a day and it is NOT supposed to be in the middle of the night!

I rolled back over onto my stomach, giving my uncooperative pillow a few good, frustrated punches as I struggled in vain to find a comfortable position.

Ranger had been gone for 97 days, the equivalent of a thousand tears, a large investment in Budweiser, 3 burnt-out shower massages and a maxed-out Pleasure Treasures account. But no form self-help would ever compare to the real thing.

"Not that I would even consider touching that stupid man if he were here," my inner, bra-burning feminist roared enthusiastically. "NO sex is good enough to put up with that emotionally inept, commitment phobic man!"

Feeling the need to dispute the credibility of that claim, my over-active hormones flooded my mind with images of Ranger … naked, sweat-glistening, muscle rippling, smoldering hot Ranger …

Touché.

My inner feminist quietly stepped off her soap box and humbly conceded defeat. How do you compete with six feet of chiseled perfection? After all, I could dish out his punishment in bed, right?

If he were there …

Which he wasn't … the rat bastard.

Thanks to the potency of that panty-melting highlight reel I had enough pent-up sexual aggression to drive an entire city to the brink of sexual deviance ... Viagra had nothing on me. At the rate I was going I would probably spontaneously combust before somehow managing to fall asleep.

Fuck it.

I threw my legs over the edge of the bed and stepped into my fuzzy pink slippers. There was only one thing that could appease me at that moment and it had nothing to do with opposite sex. I debated whether or not to change into more appropriate clothes but quickly disregarded the idea. Who wastes time putting on a bra during the event of an emergency? My pink polka-dot boy shorts and thin cotton tank covered all of my "goodies" anyway … well, barely, but desperate times and all...

I made my way into the kitchen, grabbed my keys and some money off of the counter, wadded it up and shoved it into the back pocket of my tiny boy shorts as I scrambled towards the door.

Ten minutes later, with the shaking hands of an addict about to make a "score", I pulled into Barry's Food and Drug. I sprinted to the entrance, silently thanking God for their extended hours.

I made my way down aisle twelve, shamelessly drooling over the vast smorgasbord of frozen sin, wickedly decadent words like "custard, gelato and sorbet" making my eyes glaze over and my mouth water in anticipation. And that's when I saw it, the Mecca of slow-churned, creamy goodness … Ben and Jerry's.

It was as if the rays of heaven were shining down upon the frosted glass display, illuminating the Holy Grail of divine, caloric temptation. Like a mere mortal in the presence of deity I couldn't help but take a closer look. I pressed my flat palms to the freezer door, my warm breath fogging up the chilled glass, my lips forming into a single, mouth-watering sound …

"Mmmmmmm."

Looking at the plethora of orgasmic concoctions I knew that I would never understand why someone would choose plain old vanilla. As a self-proclaimed dessert connoisseur, the lack of flavor was simply unacceptable. It was like choosing to have standard, missionary-style sex with the lights off… it was bland, boring and a complete abomination of something potentially delicious.

Each carton seemed to speak to me, enticing me with promises of cookie dough chunks, gooey marshmallows and caramel ribbons. I may not have been able to eat them all in one sitting, but I was certainly going to give it one hell of a try! That night was going to be a double-fisting, straight out of the container Ben and Jerry's binge fest. Within an hour I'd be basking in a "better than sex", sugar-induced afterglow … Well, admittedly not better than Ranger sex, but definitely more satisfying than run-of-the-mill vanilla sex!

Mmmm…. Ranger…

My mind veered off course, my body shivering with remembrance of just how luscious the Cuban Sex God could be. If they named an ice cream after him it would undoubtedly be called Chocolate Mocha-Latte Ecstasy … and I would be gluttonously addicted. That cocoa-colored skin and those dark-chocolate eyes made me want to devour him whole, tasting and savoring every deliciously, wicked inch …

"Mmmmmmm …"

Damn it! I shook myself from my lusty stupor. Damn it! … Damn It! … DAMN IT!

That was exactly how I got myself into that mess! The ONLY men in my life that night were Ben and Jerry! At least they would stay in one place long enough for me to enjoy them! And when I'd had my fill I'd either tuck them into my freezer, inviting them to stay or throw them out with the morning trash. MY rules, MY decisions, MY enjoyment, on MY time frame … Now THAT was the perfect set up!

"Stupid men," I grumbled, wrenching the freezer door open with so much force that the hinges shrieked in protest, the shelves rocking with the movement, sending an avalanche of assorted ice cream pints spilling from the racks, tumbling down upon me. I stumbled backwards, tripping over a stray carton, landing flat on my ass in the middle of the aisle as the remainder of the shelves poured out on top of me.

Apparently, Ben and Jerry didn't agree with our little arrangement … typical, self-indulgent, chauvinistic men.

The last container landed heavily on my stomach, earning an ever so attractive "hummpph" from my unsuspecting belly. I could hear the sound of footsteps quickly approaching and the humiliation of the moment began to set in. If there was ever a time in my life when I wanted to be invisible, that was it.

There was a rustle of movement and a flurry of hands pushing the ice cream pints off of my body.

"Are you okay?"

I looked up into concerned blue eyes, and I wanted nothing more than for the earth to open up and swallow me alive. Given the option between death and ever facing that kind of embarrassment again, I'd just pray the mortician went light on the rouge.

Why do these things always happen to me?

I took the hand offered to me and sat up on the ground, brushing myself off. My rescuer crouched down in front of me, obviously concerned as he waited for my response.

"I'm okay, just, PLEASE tell me you didn't see the whole thing..."

Blue eyes smiled blindingly, revealing deep, boyish dimples. "Okay … I didn't see the whole thing," he chuckled.

God, that voice could melt steel.

"Well that's just great," I sulked. "How long have you been standing there, exactly?"

"Oh, only a few minutes or so, I was just waiting for you to finish so I could take a look. I didn't want to interrupt you, though, for a minute there you looked really … errrr … happy with the selection." His dimples reappeared as gave me a knowing smirk.

My face flamed scarlet. Of course he saw me in my sexually deprived haze, lusting over a tub of ice cream like some sick deviant with a frozen snack fetish.

Which I wasn't… usually.

My life couldn't possibly get any worse than this.

"For a minute there I was jealous of that damn ice cream. I'd sure love to put that look on your face." He gave me a lopsided grin and a flirtatious wink before his expression turned thoughtful. "Until your expression changed… and you looked like you might start spitting fire," he shook his head shivered. "Now, that I could do without."

Nope … I was wrong. My mortification was now complete. "Clean up on aisle twelve … Curdling milk and dignity spill in the customer walk way. Clean up on aisle twelve!"

I scrambled to my feet with as much poise as I could muster, bringing several pints of Phish Food and a carton of Cherry Garcia up with me. "Uhh yeah… Sorry about that. A lot on my mind, ya know? Anyways… thanks for your help." I rambled, no intention of explaining my colossal mood swing to that handsome stranger.

He stood up, bringing his chest up to eye level with me, his tight white tank top straining over the deliciously-sculpted muscles of his chest. My eyes traveled the length of his body on their own accord, noting the red, silky basketball shorts hanging low on his hips and the ornate tribal tattoo wrapping around his muscular calf. He was gorgeous, his sun-kissed skin, brilliant blue eyes and honey-blonde hair gave off a laid-back surfer vibe; though, his size and build was much more "Merry Man" than lanky teen. He must have been nearly 6'5, and over 230 pounds of solid muscle …

OH … MY … GOD!

Maybe I'll invite him over … surely he would love an ice cream sundae and a slice of "homemade Plum pie". After all, Blue Eyes and a bottle of whip cream could make for an extremely delectable treat ….

Damn it! Ice cream … I needed Ice cream!

"I … I… better go … thanks again." I stuttered, stumbling through the debris towards the front of the store.

"Hey, no problem, are you sure you're alright? Do you need help carrying all that?" He stepped towards me, reaching his hands towards the precious bundle in my arms and I froze. I was completely mesmerized by the rippling bronzed muscles in his arms and shoulders … Yum! I wonder if he tastes half as good as he looks … surely I could have just a tiny little nibble …

ICE CREAM! For the love of God, I needed Ice Cream!

"No! … No, no … I'm good!" I nearly squeaked. If he touched me I wouldn't be able to control myself and committing a lewd act in public wasn't on my list of activities for the night. I rounded the corner of the aisle and all but sprinted to the check-out stand.

Hallelujah!

A tall, stick-thin man in his early twenties was leaning up against the cash register with an expression of pure boredom on his narrow, ruddy face, his red hair hanging limply across his forehead. "Thank you for shopping at Barry's Food and Drug," he droned on in a monotone voice. "Did you find everything you were looking for today?" he continued, his lips smacking together as he chewed his gum like a cow chewing cud.

Charming.

"Yes, thank you," I replied in a rush, shoving my purchases down the conveyor belt towards him. Had they always moved so slowly?

"Would you like to sign up for our Frequent Shopper Rewards Program? You could save -"

"No, no thank you. I'm in a bit of a hurry," I interrupted, retrieving a crumpled twenty dollar bill from my back pocket.

"Do you need any ice or stamps today?"

Sigh. "No," I grit through clenched teeth.

"Would you like to donate a dollar to the Boys and Girls Club of Trenton?"

Is this guy serious? "Sure," I rasped, pressing my finger to the twitch in my eye.

"Do you have any coupons?"

"NOPE," I growled, exchanging my intended four letter word of choice for a more civilized response. Do I look like a fucking coupon clipper to you, Ginger?

"Paper or plastic?"

Oh for Hell's sake! "I don't give a rat's ass!" I snarled. "I don't care if it's made from the skin of your first born child! Just put the fucking ice cream in the bag!"

"Jesus, Lady! What the hell's your problem?" the checker snapped, crossing his spindly arms over his narrow chest.

Ohhhhh… Bad move, Pal.

In an instant I had a handful of his blue employee smock in my clenched fist, pulling him across the counter towards me until our faces were mere inches apart.

"You don't want to know, but if you don't hurry your bony ass up you'll be paying for every mistake of every worthless man in my life … Understood?"

He gulped roughly, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he frantically nodded his head in understanding. "Ye … Yes Ma'am."

Finally! Apparently "Big Red" was a little slow on the uptake.

He fumbled with my purchases with shaking hands as I slammed my wadded up cash down on the counter. I pried the bag from his grasp, calling "keep the change," over my shoulder as I rushed towards the exit.

I was so close… I could almost taste it…

I yanked my car door open and tossed my grocery bags on the passenger seat. I released the emergency break, turned the key in the ignition …

"Click …clk,clk,clk, clk."

You've got to be kidding me!

I turned the key again, receiving the same result, the engine struggling futilely to roll over. I gripped the steering wheel so hard that my fingers blanched white from the effort as I banged my head into the center part of the wheel. I just couldn't win.

I wrenched the door open, rounding the corner to kick the front tire like any mature adult would. "Stupid piece of shit!" I slumped down onto the curb, dropping my head into my hands as hot tears stung my eyes.

God hated me… it was the only explanation for this.

I heard the crunching of gravel and a deep sigh as someone settled down beside me. "It's just not your night, is it honey?"

"Is it ever?" I sniffed pitifully.

"Car problems too?" Apparently "Blue Eyes" had front row tickets to the Stephanie Plum Show twice in one night. What a treat.

"I … I just wanted some ice cream," I mumbled pathetically into my hands, feeling desperate and exhausted. He draped a heavy arm across my shoulders and gave me a reassuring squeeze.

"Shhh … it'll be alright. Do you need a ride? It's too late to call a tow truck…"

I nodded my head, my throat too clogged with tears to speak. Walking home in my pajamas and slippers didn't really sound all that appealing at the moment.

"Come on then, let's get you home." He led the way towards his truck, stepping aside as he opened the passenger door for me. I looked up at the behemoth of a vehicle with wide eyes. The "truck" looked like it ate SUV's for breakfast. The tires alone were bigger than my entire car. I assessed the distance from the ground to the cab warily, "Maybe I'd better get a running start …"

A deep, rich laugh pulled me from my musings. "It's okay, Honey. I'll give you a boost." Before I could object he lifted me effortlessly into the truck. He stood on the step bar and reached across my lap to buckle me in. Normally I would have made a snarky comment about possessing opposable thumbs and being capable of fastening my own seat belt, but it had been so long since anyone had taken care of me, and for a moment I allowed myself to enjoy the luxury.

"Thanks for the ride," I muttered shyly as he climbed behind the wheel. I should have been nervous about getting into a car with a complete stranger but despite his size he didn't strike me as threatening and my "spidey sense" wasn't picking up on anything.

Knock on wood.

"Hey now … no need to be nervous. I won't bite … hard." He glanced towards me and laughed playfully at my frazzled expression. OH GOD …

"My name's Chase Covington and I'll be your chauffer for the evening, Mrs …?"

"It's Miss … and you can call me Stephanie."

"Well then, Miss Stephanie … where to?"

We made small talk as I guided him through the streets to my apartment, clutching the bag of ice cream in my lap as I bounced in my seat, the suspended cab and high-lifted frame bumping jarringly. His laugh was contagious and I couldn't help but relax in his presence. I studied his profile as the lights from the passing cars washed over his features. He was really handsome, but yet again my mind pointed out my preference for darker hair, chocolate eyes and Cuban features.

I sighed in resignation. It was hopeless, no matter how handsome they were, no matter how funny and intelligent and charming they may have been, they're just weren't … Ranger.

He pulled into my lot and ambled his way out of the truck. He opened my door for me and as I tried to jump to the ground he gently grabbed my hips and lowered me slowly to my feet.

"Thank you so much for the ride. I really appreciate it a lot… maybe I'll see you around sometime." For some reason I felt awkward and unsure of the appropriate goodbye and found myself acting more formal than usual. I turned to leave and he snatched the bags from my hands, matching my stride.

"You don't think I'm going to leave you in a deserted parking lot in the middle of the night, do you? My mama raised me better than that."

We made our way up to my apartment and I was grateful that I had taken the time to straighten up before I went to bed. I opened the door, Chase filing in behind me as I flipped on the lights to the front room. "You can just set those—"

A tingle shot down my spine and I swallowed my words. A dark figure rose from the couch and I jumped slightly.

"Ranger," I breathed both shocked and overwhelmed with relief.

He ignored me, his murderous gaze resting on Chase. I pictured the scene from Ranger's perspective and immediately realized what it must have looked like. It was 1:30 in the morning and I was with a strange man dressed only in a pair of skimpy pajamas … shit!

"Ranger it's not-"

He held up a hand, effectively cutting off my explanation as he took a deliberate step towards Chase and the rage in his eyes told me exactly how bad it looked.

I had a feeling it was going to be a really, really long night.

Thoughts? Comments? Bowl of Chocolate Mocha-Latte Ecstasy ice cream anyone? ;)