A/N: Thank you so much for everyone who stuck with me through the writing process. This is the final chapter of "Plum Sweet". As much as I'd love to continue writing on this story forever, I feel it has come to an organic, proper ending. It's time for me to quit procrastinating and get back to writing my Masters thesis so I can *finally* graduate. Hopefully I can get back to this more enjoyable writing form soon. All the best, my babes. -J
All characters belong to Janet. I'm not making a profit.
I strolled into the bonds office a little after eight. I was dead on my feet but determined to return my life to some sort of normal. I was wearing my usual outfit of jeans, t-shirt, and tennis shoes with the addition of one of Ranger's black hoodies to combat the early spring chill.
Connie was sitting at her desk painting her fingernails high-gloss red. She was wearing a red v-neck sweater and a grey pinstripe skirt with black platform heels. The door to Vinnie's inner sanctum was closed, and Lula hadn't arrived.
"I didn't know to expect you today. Thank god you're here," Connie said. "I've got a whole pile of skips that have been stacking up on my desk, and Vinnie's totally lost it. Harry's been putting the pressure on, and I think his nuts are in a vice. He's got Joyce out hunting for some of these guys, but I've tried to load her down with the untraceable and crazies. I saved the regulars, high dollar bonds, and run of the mill criminals for you. They are in this pile," she said, gesturing to a stack of file folders.
"There have to be at least fifty folders there," I protested.
"You were gone for more than a week. Vinnie's been writing more bonds lately trying to pay for Lucille's new Cadillac. Besides, word got out that you and Ranger were out of town, and I think the clientele took advantage."
"Ungh."
I sat in one of the orange plastic chairs in front of Connie's desk and began sorting the pile into four piles: convenient captures, moderate effort, homicidal maniacs, and 'over my dead body'.
"Has Joyce brought in any skips?" I asked.
"Two. She's not very resourceful. How's Ranger? Maybe he can help you clean up this stack."
"He's healing, but I don't think he's up to skip chasing right now," I said.
"I'll give him a call to see if Tank could lend us a hand," Connie said.
The door slammed open and Lula swung her ass into the office. She was wearing a hot pink tube top, a black denim mini skirt, and cheetah print Via Spiga spike heels. A giant pink shoulder bag was hanging from her shoulder, and she had a box of doughnuts in her hand.
"Hey girl!" she said, dropping the doughnuts on Connie's desk. "It's about time you got home. How's Mr. Tall, Dark, and Hot?"
"He's good," I said, selecting a Boston crème doughnut from the box. "He'll be good as new in no time."
"I couldn't help but notice you're wearing his sweatshirt, on account of its halfway to your knees," she said, selecting a pink frosted doughnut with sprinkles for herself.
I glanced down at the sweatshirt. Okay, so it wasn't exactly glamourous, but it was comfortable and smelled heavenly just like Ranger. What wasn't to like?
"And?"
She was serious, her expression inquisitive. "Did you get some?"
"Jeez Louise," I said. "He slept over last night, but I didn't 'get some'. Mooner was at my apartment in my bed. I was on the couch, and Ranger was in the chair. Nothing happened."
Lula rolled her eyes.
"Damn girl, I was waiting for a juicy story," she said.
I tried to contain my smile, but I couldn't hold it back entirely. My mouth upturned slightly, and Connie caught it.
"What aren't you telling us?" Connie asked, raising an eyebrow.
I considered not telling Lula and Connie, but I figured they'd find out soon enough. Better to spill the beans on my terms.
"Ranger and I are sort of…. Together now," I said as explanation.
"Together?" Connie shrieked, dropping her red fingernail polish. The lacquer leaked onto the file in front of her, and she scrambled to wipe it up with a Kleenex.
"As in a relationship," I clarified, biting into my doughnut.
"You go girl!" Lula exclaimed. "You're gonna be Mrs. Batman!"
"Doubtful," I said through a mouthful of doughnut. "Been there, done that, got the t-shirt. Marriage gives me hives."
Lula looked doubtful, but she didn't say anything.
I grabbed the eleven files I'd placed into an easy captures pile and shoved them into my messenger bag.
"I'm going to try to clear up some of these easier captures first, then I'll do some research on these others tonight," I said by way of explanation.
"I'll go with you," said Lula, grabbing another doughnut from the box and making a beeline for the door.
I wanted to protest, but I hadn't packed my gun or pepper spray, and I knew Lula came with all the critical bounty hunter accessories.
"Take this," said Connie, handing me a file box. "Might make that pile easier to move around."
I thanked her, dropped the remaining files in the box, and went to the car with Lula.
"Why the hell are you driving this car?" she asked.
"My Corolla was murdered," I said by way of explanation. "You were there. You should know."
"No, I mean why aren't you driving one of Ranger's cars? His cars are hot. They're better for my image."
"I can get my own car. I don't need a babysitter," I said, a hint of anger in my voice. "I can take care of myself."
"Sorry, didn't realize it was such a sore subject," Lula said, slipping onto the passenger seat. She sat in silence for a beat, then changed the subject. "Who's ass are we hauling back to the clink first?"
"Hershell Goodwin," I said, putting the car into gear.
New Jersey had rid Hershell of the responsibility of his driver's license years ago as a result of poor vision, but he was undeterred, taking his 1987 Pontiac Bonneville for occasional spins around the Burg. These jaunts often left light poles, mailboxes, and parked cars damaged beyond repair but left his indestructible car only minimally worse for the wear.
I'd been hunting skips for a long time, and I'd hauled Hershell back to jail at least twenty-five times. The pick-up had become routine, and Lula knew the drill. I knew he'd come willingly as long as I brought a slice of French silk pie from Baker's Square, so I pointed the car in the direction of Route 1.
When we got to Baker's Square, the lot was full of Mercury Grand Marquis, Buick Le Sabres, and Lincoln Towncars presumably belonging to senior citizens enjoying a late breakfast. Since there was nowhere to park, I gave Lula a twenty and sent her in for the slice. I idled at the curb, watching the lot for a space to open. No one vacated their spot before Lula jogged back to the car five minutes later carrying three pies.
"Three?" I asked.
"One for you, one for me, and one for Hershell," she said, opening the lid to a coconut cream pie. She dug around, coming up with a plastic fork. She shoveled a bite of pie into her mouth before offering me a bite. I hesitated before finally accepting the bite. It was heavenly.
We parked in the lot of Hershell's retirement apartment complex and trudged to his door wielding his pie. Lula knocked, and he answered wearing an olive polo, khakis, and suspenders that held the pants just below his armpits. He accessorized the outfit with thick, large frame glasses and the quintessential comb-over.
"Good morning, Mr. Goodwin," I said, giving him a warm, friendly smile. "I'm sorry to interrupt your morning, but I was wondering if you had time to go downtown to reschedule your court date with us. I know it's an inconvenience, so we brought pie," I said, gesturing to the pie Lula displayed like Vanna White from Wheel of Fortune.
"Oh dear. I missed my court date?"
"Yep," I said, "but it's no problem. We'll go get it cleared up."
"That pie does look delicious," he said, glancing in Lula's direction.
"You can't beat this chocolate pie," Lula said, studying the delicacy in her hands. "Those little chocolate shavings on the top are like sprinkles of happiness. I even asked for a pie with extra shavings. Did you know at Christmastime, the chocolate is red and green? Fucking festive."
"I've got a fork in the car. If you want to grab a coat, we'll take you downtown. I can give you a ride back home later today if that helps," I said politely.
"Okay little lady," he said, taking a step back into his small foyer to collect his jacket from the wall hook.
We shuffled him out to the Buick and buckled him into the backseat, where he happily ate pie all the way to the police station. We had him booked with body receipt in hand in under thirty minutes.
"We're on fire," Lula said, buckling herself back into the Buick. "Where to next?"
"We're going to go grab Sharonda Blake so we can bond her back out before the lunch rush," I said, pointing the Buick toward Stark Street.
"You're awfully generous today."
I was on the first block of Stark when I noticed I was being tailed by a black Rangeman SUV.
"Son of a bitch," I said under my breath, pulling into a parking spot on the third block.
"What's up girl?" Lula asked, unbuckling.
I jerked my thumb in the direction of my shadow and extracted my cell phone from my pocket, dialing Ranger.
"Yo."
"Yo yourself. Why do I have a shadow?"
"Babe," was his response.
I sighed and rolled my eyes so hard I got dizzy.
"You're not in a friendly neighborhood, babe. The control room saw you cruising that way, so I asked Hal and Manuel to find you. They were in the neighborhood."
"That's so comforting," I said, spreading my words thick with sarcasm.
Ranger had the unfortunate but sometimes convenient habit of tracking my cars and my purse. He'd saved my ass more than once thanks to a tiny electronic tracker. Since Big Blue was my de facto spare car, I wasn't surprised my progress was being monitored.
"Your safety is my priority," Ranger said, his tone all business. "If you've got a problem, take it up with me tonight, but don't hassle my guys. They're following orders. Be safe. Love you."
And he disconnected.
"Did I just hear what I thought I heard?" Lula asked, her eyes wide.
I cut my eyes to her. "Huh?"
"Did Batman just use the "L" word?"
I tried to fight back the smile, but again, it crept onto my face like a giddy school girl.
"Girl, you're in love!" Lula exclaimed. "You lucky bitch!"
We sat in silence, studying Sharonda's apartment building. No activity was apparent in the building or on the street, so we climbed out of the car. Hal ambled over to us while Manuel stood guard over the vehicles. Unattended vehicles had a way of disappearing on Stark Street. Better to leave someone with them. All the better if he looked like Thor and wore a gun at his hip.
"Morning, big guy," I said to Hal, giving him a wide smile. "Sorry you got called for Stephanie duty."
"No problem," he said. "When Ranger says to guard his woman, you guard his woman."
My eyes grew wide.
"He said that?"
"Yes."
"Jeez Louise…."
Lula wrenched the door to the apartment building open, and we trudged up the stairs to the second floor to knock on 2B.
A woman opened the door with the security chain still in place. She was small, maybe 5 feet tall with perfect chocolate skin, chocolate eyes, and a blonde weave. She was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, looking comfortable in her time away from work.
"What?" she asked.
"Sharonda Blake?"
"Who wants to know?"
"My name is Stephanie Plum, and I represent your bail bondsman…"
Click. The door slipped shut.
"Damn it," I said, kicking her door.
"Stand back, and let me do the talkin'," Lula said, pounding on the door. "Sharonda honey, it's Lula. Open up, girlfriend."
The door opened a crack again, and Sharonda looked out.
"Lula! What the hell are you doing with this stupid white ho?"
"She ain't no ho," Lula said. "She's a badass bounty hunter, and I'm her bounty hunter assistant. Wanna go for a ride with us?"
"Hell no," Sharonda said, trying to close the door.
Lucky for me, I had my foot in the way.
"Move," Sharonda said, kicking at my foot.
"We'd really like to take you to reschedule your court date," I said as politely as I could manage. "We'll get you back before you have to go to work. We can have Connie meet us to re-bond you."
"Re-bonding takes money that I don't have," said Sharonda.
"Okay, how about this," I said, my tone hinting at frustration. "You come downtown with us willingly, or I send Hal in to get you and drag you out."
Sharonda peeped over my shoulder to Hal, who stood well over six feet and looked more like Hulk Hogan than Mr. Rogers.
"Well, when you put it that way… let me get my purse," she said, stepping away from the crack in the door.
"Nice," Lula said, fumbling around in her purse. We're two for two. We're hot!"
After ninety seconds, Sharonda didn't return. I listened for movement in the apartment, but only heard a faint sound coming from within. I tried to place the sound and realized it was the sound of a window being opened.
"She's going down the fire escape!" I shouted.
Hal was on his phone in an instant, probably dialing Manuel on the street. Lula ran flat out for the stairs in her heels.
I put my foot to the door. Nothing. I tried again, and the security chain popped with a zing!
I raced into the apartment, spotting the open window off the bedroom with Sharonda's retreating form outside. I ran flat out with Hal behind me and hurdled through the window onto the fire escape. I made it two steps before losing my footing, tripping Hal in the process. Hal and I went ass over teakettles down the stairs, knocking into Sharonda halfway down. We landed with an "oof" with Sharonda on the bottom, then Hal, then me on top.
I rolled off Hal, and Hal rolled off Sharonda. We laid on the macadam for a moment catching our breath, Manuel standing over us.
"You alright?" he asked.
My body ached and my head hurt, but now wasn't the time to complain. Time to suck it up and forge ahead.
"Crap," I croaked, getting to my feet and examining myself. The knees were torn out of my jeans, my knees bleeding. I'd ripped the front of my shirt, and the palms of my hands were skinned.
Hal was on his feet next, brushing himself off and examining himself. His elbow was bleeding and his clothes were dusty, but he appeared to be mostly intact.
Lula joined us in the parking lot, and we stared down at Sharonda, who stared blank faced up at us.
"Is she dead?" Lula asked.
"No," said Hal, hauling Sharonda to her feet. Manuel used flexicuffs to secure her, then hauled her to the SUV.
"Where would you like her delivered?" Manuel asked.
"Take her to the station unless Hal needs a Band-Aid first. We'll follow you."
"That place gives me diarrhea," said Lula. "Cops give me the runs."
"So take Big Blue back to the bonds office," I said, handing her the keys. "I'll have the Merry Men drop me off when we're done."
I arrived back at the bonds office at lunch time with two body receipts in hand. Hal and Manuel had gone back to Rangeman to accept their hazard pay, and I was in the mood for lunch.
Lula and Connie were eating subs from Giovachinni's. Lula offered me half of her sandwich, but I snagged a few of her chips instead.
"Two skips in one morning, you're on a roll," said Connie. "Who's up next?"
"I haven't decided yet," I said, sinking into a chair to examine my knees. "I think I'm going to head home to clean up and change first."
Connie cut me a check for my capture fees, and I pointed the Buick in the direction of my apartment. I took Bob out to tinkle and gave him some doggie crunchies. Then I showered, bandaged, dressed, and was back on the road in twenty minutes. My stomach was rumbling, so I headed to Cluck in a Bucket.
My phone rang as I pulled out of my neighborhood. It was my mother.
"Hello?"
"Stephanie? Your grandmother said you're home. I'm making a nice roast chicken for dinner tonight with peas, new potatoes, and pineapple upside-down cake. I thought maybe you could join us."
My mother was pulling out all the stops by tempting me with my favorite dessert, but even pineapple upside-down cake couldn't tempt me to suffer any more verbal or emotional abuse at her hand. I wouldn't soon forget the early morning phone call I'd received in Atlanta.
"No thanks mom, but have a nice dinner," I replied, then disconnected.
My phone rang again ten seconds later.
"Stephanie Michelle Plum, don't you dare hang up on me."
I sighed. This conversation wasn't going anywhere I wanted to be.
"I'm not hanging up on you mom. I'm busy," I explained, pulling onto Olden.
"Joseph is home," my mother announced. "Maybe you could bring him with you to dinner tonight."
"I'm glad to hear he's home, mom. I'll stop by," I said. "I can't make dinner tonight though. I'll talk to you later. I need to go."
I disconnected, then changed trajectory, pointing the car in the direction of Pino's instead.
I arrived on Morelli's doorstep thirty minutes later carrying two meatball subs, a tub of coleslaw, a tub of potato salad, and a two-liter bottle of Coke. I tried the door. It was unlocked, so I cracked it a tad before knocking on the frame and shouting.
"Hello? Joe?"
"In here," was the response I received, so I let myself in and headed for the living room.
Joe was sitting on the couch wearing green plaid pajama pants, a grey long sleeved t-shirt, and slippers. He was scruffy with significant beard growth, and I noticed a few grey hairs mixed into his beard, making him seem older. His face was handsome, but his head was bandaged. He was watching the History Channel.
"Hey, stranger," I said, spreading the food out on the coffee table. "I thought maybe they hadn't been feeding you at Saint Francis, so I wanted to bring by something edible." I gave him a wide grin, and he made an effort to return it, only one side of his mouth responding.
"Th… Th…. Thanks," he said, shutting off the television.
"How are you doing?"
"Fi… Fine."
I went to the kitchen to retrieve two glasses with ice, plates, and silverware. I poured Joe a coke and set it on the table next to him.
"Your ha…. Hands?" he asked.
I didn't understand what he meant, so I glanced at my hands, seeing the ragged tears from today's capture.
"Oh. Yeah, I scraped them up capturing a skip this morning. It's no biggie. They'll heal."
Joe moved to pick up his Coke, but his hands trembled and his movements were awkward. My stomach twisted into an uncomfortable knot, and my heart crept up my throat.
I wasn't sure what to do. Ask if he wanted help? Let him do it himself? Put the drink in a different cup? I noticed a water bottle sitting on the table next to him that had a built-in straw, a handy contraption for a man who's extraordinary hand-eye coordination had recently been trashed by a bullet. I finally decided to ask, willing myself the strength to do hard things.
"Would it be better for your Coke to be in the water bottle?" I asked, gesturing to the bottle.
"It's okay," he said. "I g…. Got it."
He took a deep breath, two handed the glass, and lifted it to his mouth. He took a sip, spilling a small amount on his shirt before setting it back on the table. My heart constricted in my chest once more.
I busied myself preparing plates.
"How does it feel to be home?" I asked.
"Comfortable," Joe said. "Glad to… to… to have you... you home."
I smiled. "It's good to be back in Jersey. I'm not cut out for Southern life, and my hair was even more displeased."
Morelli gave me another lopsided smile. "Love yo…. Your hair. It has at… attitude."
I laughed, and Joe joined in. I placed the plate in his lap, regretting buying him messy side dishes. His coordination did seem royally ruined.
"Did your family drop you off at home to fend for yourself?" I asked, scooping into my potato salad.
"N—n- no," he said. "Mom is co—coming back so— soon. Moo—Mooch will st—stay tonight."
He took a bite of his meatball sub and sighed with pleasure.
"How's Bo- Bob?"
"He's good," I said, telling him about Mooner's dog sitting job. I assured him I'd keep Bob until he felt ready for the responsibility. We ate and visited, carrying on light conversation.
"Surpris—sed to see yo—you," Morelli announced when we'd lapsed into companionable silence.
"Why is that?" I asked, stopping with my fork halfway to my mouth.
"We broke up," he said, clear as day.
I put my fork down and set my plate on the table. I took a deep breath, working to channel all the honesty and kindness I could muster.
"Joe, you're still one of my best friends," I said, placing my hand on his knee. "I care about you. Nothing changed that. Why wouldn't I come here?"
Morelli looked away from me, studying his plate.
"Joe, talk to me."
Our eyes connected, and I saw Joe's eyes were sorrowful, tears collecting at the corners.
"My fau—fault," he announced. "I was… wasn't good… to you."
"Joe…" I began, but he kept speaking.
"I wa… was too bu…. Busy with work. Did… didn't put you fi… first. Now I'm… ruined."
"Joe, stop," I said, scooting to the edge of the sofa. "It's not your fault. It's no one's fault. We gave it everything we had for years. It's not that we didn't try. It's not that we didn't love each other. It's not that we don't…"
I stopped, unwilling to finish the thought. I still loved and cared for Joe very much, but was I in love with him? The answer was overwhelmingly no. Maybe I'd made the wrong choice by coming here. Maybe I'd made things worse for both of us.
A single tear slid down Joe's face, and my heart shattered into thousands of pieces. The man who I'd loved was broken not only physically, but emotionally. His blank cop face was gone, replaced now by raw emotion. I did the only thing I could, scooting across the couch to his side and wrapping my arms gently around him.
He leaned into me, letting the tears and emotions flow freely. He rested his head on my chest, and I leaned back to accommodate his trembling body. His hands trembled, holding me softly. My heart wrenched in my chest, and tears threatened to spill from my own eyes. This Joe was not the Joe I'd left when I traveled to Atlanta. This was a damaged, fragile version of the man I'd loved. I felt helpless, unable to repair his damaged body, mind, or heart.
As usual, I fought back my tears, refusing to be weak. Being weak was perhaps my greatest fear in life, conditioned and groomed by past life experience. How many times had I been here in the past five years? It seemed refusing to be weak had been the story of my life ever since I left Dickie. I'd spent an impossible amount of time being strong, overly independent, and refusing to trust again. After all, isn't that what it all boiled down to? Refusing to trust anyone but myself?
I thought about the times I'd refused to trust Joe, always fearing the worst of his intentions. Believing Terri Gilman might be lurking in the nearest closet, waiting to take Joe on my dining table just like Joyce had taken Dickie. Not only that, I'd refused the stability Joe promised when offering to support me so I could quit my job at the bonds office. Did I really love my job, or was I afraid to drastically alter my life and income stream for someone who could shatter it later? I thought about all the horrible experiences I'd had as a bond enforcement agent and all the time I'd spent living hand-to-mouth, barely scraping by because I'd been too proud.
I had lived to protect my heart.
Then there was Ranger. My heart seized once again as I thought of the man who currently held my heart. My love for Ranger was unplanned, sneaking up on me as I fought through my daily grind. He was a faithful friend and generous lover. He'd been unfailingly kind, never questioning the crazy decisions I made or the irrational way I lived my life. He was continually a stabilizing force, offering me protection, cars, faith, and affection when I always needed them most. For years, he'd given me every reason to trust him but had made it clear a relationship wasn't possible. Then everything changed in Atlanta. This week alone, he'd offered to buy me a mansion and put marriage on the table. Now that he'd altered his life enough to make room for me, could I alter myself enough to trust him? To make room for him?
Frankly, I was exhausted. I'd been strong for too long. Something had to break the cycle. Ranger was more than I deserved. Could I learn to accept happiness in lieu of fierce independence?
My mind raced as I held Joe, him crying and me rubbing his back. We sat like that for a long time. He eventually relaxed into me, slipping into sleep. I held him until his sleep was deep, then slid out from beneath him, settling him onto the couch. I laid a blanket over his body and placed a kiss on his cheek.
Joe stirred slightly, his voice a whisper.
"Love you, cupcake."
"Love you too, Joe," I said, brushing an unruly hair from his forehead.
I bagged up the leftovers, placing them in his fridge. I tore a piece of paper from a notepad on the counter and scrawled a note for Joe.
Joe,
I'm only a phone call away. Call anytime. I'll be here in a jiffy.
Yours,
Stephanie
The sun was setting behind me as I walked onto the deserted sandy beach at Point Pleasant. The early spring air was cold, so I pulled my hands into the sleeves of Ranger's sweatshirt. After I'd left Joe's, I decided I was done chasing skips for the day. I silenced my phone, pointed the Buick east, and began driving. I drove until the road ran out. I walked halfway to the water before settling into the sand, sitting with my legs stretched out before me. I let the breeze blow my hair around my head like an unruly halo, inhaling the scent of my strawberry shampoo mingling with the salty sea air.
I'd had nearly an hour to calm my thoughts on I-195 behind the wheel, and a calm had settled over me by the time I'd reached Allentown. A small voice somewhere deep within myself had spoken, shouting over the fears and doubts. It said, "You've spent years finding yourself, and you've finally found her. Care for her fiercely, forgive her often, and let her run free. Live with hope, not fear."
I watched the grey waves crashing into the sand before me, their musical rhythm piecing together my battered heart. Point Pleasant was my escape, the one place on earth I felt I could truly run away from all my problems to be alone with my thoughts. It had been a long time since I'd visited this beach. Too long, and I vowed to come back sooner next time. I deserved that much.
I'd sat for almost thirty minutes examining my life. I made promises to myself, and to the bankrupt, broken girl who had conned her cousin into a job so many years ago.
Twilight had turned the sky from pink to lavender behind me when I heard tires on the gravel parking lot. A figure approached, outlined by the night's artistry. I pulled my legs to my chest, willing myself to become small. To disappear into the sand. I'd hoped for more time alone.
"Stephanie?"
I glanced over my shoulder, and our eyes connected. He closed the distance between us, and I gave him a hand to settle into the sand beside me. I leaned into his shoulder. He kissed my temple, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.
We sat in the quiet, and minutes passed before he broke the silence.
"Are you okay? I was worried when you didn't come home tonight."
I nodded.
"I'm alright. I just need some time."
"Anything you want to talk about?"
I shook my head no, pulling my arms farther into the sweatshirt.
Strands of twilight illuminated his thoughtful brown eyes and handsome face, highlighting wrinkles he wore like a badge of honor. His dark hair was washed with grey. He took a deep breath, then began speaking.
"When you were born, you changed my life, Stephanie. I held you in my arms, and I promised to protect you from everything. I did when you were a kid, but I've failed you as an adult."
"Dad, stop…"
"Hear me out," he said, fingers digging into the sand. He stared out at the water, watching the waves crashing onto the sand.
"I let you marry that prick Dickie without a word, and he crushed you. I knew he wasn't good for you, and I did nothing to stop it. He was a womanizer and a cheat. I didn't step in to put the pieces back together either, and I let your mother destroy your confidence."
He took a deep breath, then continued.
"I let you pursue a dangerous career when I could have supported you financially to give you time to get back on your feet. I thought Joe was taking care of you, but I realized a few years ago you were both struggling. I didn't intervene, telling myself you wouldn't want me to. When I began to realize how much I'd failed as a parent, I checked out mentally and emotionally instead of getting my shit together to help you. I'm your father. I should have protected you. I'm sorry."
My dad and I were a lot alike. We weren't touchy, feely people. This situation, which was as improbable as any I'd ever experienced, was surprisingly comforting. I reached across my dad's body, taking his hand in mine to squeeze it.
"It's not your fault, dad. It's no one's fault. But thanks for loving me."
He kissed my temple again, and I let a single tear roll down my face. It wasn't a tear of sadness or grief, but a tear of relief. Having my father in my corner was something I'd needed for a long time.
"I'm going to spend the rest of my life making the last six up to you, Stephanie. I'm going to be the dad you've deserved all along. I started tonight by talking to your mother. I'm sorry it took me so long to figure it out. Fearing I'd lost you in Atlanta forced me to relive all the wrong I've done. I couldn't live with it if I'd lost you."
I leaned into him harder, and he rubbed my arm.
"You're frozen, Steph. Let's get you somewhere warm."
He wasn't wrong. I was frozen to my bones, but I found the water too tempting, unable to draw myself away.
"How did you find me, dad?"
He removed his arm from behind my back and folded his hands in his lap.
"When you didn't come for dinner, I drove to your apartment. You weren't there, but your friend Carlos was waiting there for you. He made a few calls, then we came here. He said you'd be here. I guess he was right."
I heart stuttered to a stop in my chest. Had my dad just called Ranger 'Carlos'? Had hell frozen over?
"Ranger is here?"
"He's sitting in my car in the lot. He said he couldn't drive yet, that his friend had dropped him off at your place."
I felt hope bloom in my chest once more, and I knew everything was going to be okay.
"He loves you, you know," my dad stated matter-of-factly.
"I know, dad."
"Do you love him?"
"Of course. With everything I have," I said without hesitation.
"He's a good man, Stephanie. He'd do anything for you. He'd never ask you to change who you are. He loves you for the free-spirited wild child you are," he said, a smile tugging at his narrow lips. "Don't let your mother's perverted sense of love ruin this for you."
"I won't, dad. Thanks."
My dad struggled to his feet, then reached his hand out for me. He pulled me to my feet, and I gave him a kiss on his cheek. We brushed the sand from our pants before making our way to the parking lot.
As Ranger saw us approach, he slid out of my father's Buick. He took several steps in my direction, opening his arms to me. I collapsed into him, his strong arms holding me to his chest.
My father climbed into his car and started the engine. He gave us a wave over the steering wheel then pulled out of the parking lot, leaving me alone with Ranger.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his face concerned, the tension palpable in his voice.
"Yes," I whispered, holding him close. "I'm good," I said.
I really meant it, too. I felt more in touch with myself than I had for a long time. Not that all this emotional self-exploration wasn't exhausting, because it was. Unfortunately, it had become a necessity.
"Are you okay?"
He pulled away from me slowly, holding me at arm's length. His face was serious and guarded, his eyes filled with an emotion. Worry, I thought.
"Are we okay?" he asked, his voice low.
"Of course we're okay. Why wouldn't we be?"
He ran his fingers through my hair, separating the curls with his fingers. He pulled my face to his, our lips brushing against one another's in a soft kiss. I tried to deepen the kiss, but he pulled away.
"I thought you'd changed your mind," he said, his voice thick.
"What?" I felt my forehead crease with concern.
"About Morelli," he said. "About us."
The tracking device, I thought. Someone in the control room saw me at Morelli's.
"No," I explained. "How could I? My mind is already made up about you."
He studied me, his face emotionless. Fear began gripping at my seams. Had I hurt Ranger?
He removed his coat and wrapped it around my shoulders. He held me close to him once more, his lips placing soft kisses in the center of my forehead.
"I'm sorry I went to Joe's," I said, my voice quiet. "I'm sorry if it hurt you. It's just… he's one of my best friends, Ranger. I had to make sure he was okay."
"I know."
"I won't go back if it's a problem. I…"
Ranger cut me off.
"It's not a problem, babe," he said. "Visit him every day if you'd like."
He paused, collecting his thoughts before speaking again.
"Why did you come here?"
"To think."
"About?"
"Me."
He held me at arm's length again, a smile playing at his lips. Apparently that wasn't the answer he'd been expecting. Stephanie Plum, full of surprises.
I took a deep breath and gripped his hands in mine.
"You need to understand something about me," I began. "I've spent a lot of time being strong. Being independent. I've refused to trust anyone but myself for so long that I almost forgot why."
I shifted my weight from foot to foot. I was out of my comfort zone. Sharing my thoughts and feelings wasn't one of my strengths, but I was going to have to start if we were going to make things work between us. It was time to grow up.
"I was stubborn. I lived in fear, and I forgot to pursue happiness," I said, rubbing my thumb along the back of his warm hand. "I'm sorry you were caught up in the crossfire. Joe too. I've been awful to both of you, and I owe you both apologies."
"Babe," he said, his tone gentle and understanding.
"I had a lot of time to think tonight," I explained, gesturing toward the beach. "About what I want for myself, for my life. I don't have it all figured out yet, but I know it includes you. It took us a long time to find our way to this point," I said. "I don't want to miss my chance."
His face relaxed as he pulled me into an embrace, caressing my body. Electricity flowed through my core and into my limbs like lava, taking my breath away.
"I love you so much," I confessed, breathing in his intoxicating scent. "I swear, I'm going to fight to make this work. I've never wanted anyone so much in my life."
In an instant, Ranger's mouth was on mine, our tongues exploring, our hands frantic. He backed me into the Buick, pressing himself in to me as we held and loved one another. I broke from the kiss, gasping for air and heart racing. He did the same.
"Should we head back?" I asked, studying his face.
He gave a simple nod before placing one last kiss on my lips. He limped around the Buick and settled himself into the shotgun seat. I slid in next to him, turning the key so the car rumbled to life.
Ranger gave me a wide, infectious smile, and I found myself returning it.
"What?"
"This car looks good on you, babe."
I scrunched up my face in disgust, but I had to fight the smile. Big Blue and I had been through a lot. It wasn't a sexy car, or really even a practical car considering the gallons of fuel it sucked, but the car was indestructible, just like my fighting spirit.
I put the car into drive, pointing the car west toward the interstate and Trenton.
"I suppose I should replace my Corolla tomorrow," I sighed. "I hate car shopping. I really liked that car, too."
Ranger studied me for a long moment, nothing but street lights illuminating the interior of the car. When he spoke, his voice was gentle. Sweet.
"I'd be happy to get you a suitable replacement," he said, taking my hand in his. "That is, if you'd let me."
My emotions immediately went into defensive mode, my body's long-conditioned response to stress. I paused, taking a breath to calm my emotions. Ranger had proven time and time again that his only desire was to care for me. I knew his offer came with no strings attached.
I glanced to my right and realized Ranger's face showed trepidation. I felt my heart soften.
I adjusted my grip on the steering wheel, glanced his way, and gave him a nod.
"Okay," I said. "But nothing ostentatious, please. Like I said before, I really liked my Corolla. And let's not forget, I'm hard on cars."
He visibly relaxed, settling deeper into the seat. He gave my hand a friendly squeeze.
"What did you do today?" I asked, making friendly conversation as I pulled onto the interstate.
"Ximena took me to see my parents and aunt & uncle in Newark," he said.
"I bet they were happy to see you."
"I think they were more thrilled to see Ximena," he said with a smile. "She's been busy in Boston. She hasn't been home for a while. They're excited to have her home soon."
"She'll be back again soon?" I asked, the excitement palpable in my voice.
"I offered her a position in Trenton this morning," he said. "I'm exploring business opportunities in Newark, and I think Ximena would be the ideal fit to run a Rangeman operation there. In the meantime, you might prefer her following you all over the city instead of Cal."
"What?" I asked, annoyance apparent in my voice. I hated having a babysitter.
"Connie called me today to ask if Tank could provide additional BEA coverage for the bonds office. She told me you've got a box of folders that need cleared up, and she told me who some of the skips are. I don't want you going after some of those guys alone."
I thought back to the piles I'd sorted in the bonds office earlier that morning. As far as I was concerned, Tank could have the 'over my dead body' pile. I wasn't sure how I felt about Ximena going after them with me.
Ranger continued. "Tank is tied up in Newark business negotiations. Plus, I'm on light duty for at least another month, so Tank is covering a lot of double shifts. We could use the help, and you could too. I imagine Ximena would be more pleasant as your shadow than Cal, and I know she'd enjoy spending more time with you. Hector or Lester can assist when necessary."
I thought about the snake tattooed on Cal's forehead, and smiled. Ranger was right. Cal wasn't exactly incognito on a takedown.
"I'm willing to try it," I said. "I'm not thrilled about having a partner, but I'm willing to negotiate if it's with Ximena."
"Babe," Ranger laughed lightly. "You've had a partner. Her name is Lula. I'm only adding one more person to your posse temporarily."
"Fine," I sighed. "Thanks. That pile really is insane," I said, gesturing to the box in the back seat.
He looked over his shoulder and visibly cringed.
"Are you going to have any free time?" he asked.
I sighed. I honestly wasn't sure. Any given week, I might pick up ten to twenty skips. Almost fifty posed an insane challenge, especially when more skips would come in daily at the office.
"Maybe," I said. "Probably not."
"Do you think you could make some free time Saturday?"
I glanced over to him.
"What's up Saturday? Do you need help with a job? I can make time," I said, my voice sincere.
I really did want to make time for Ranger. Even if my job was about to be insane, I was committed to making time for us.
"No, babe. I was wondering if you'd go to dinner at my parents' in Newark."
We pulled into Trenton after 9:30 PM. My stomach was rumbling, and I knew Bob would have his doggy legs crossed needing to tinkle.
"Do you mind if we stop by my apartment before I drop you off at home?" I asked, turning Big Blue on to Hamilton. "Bob needs to go outside."
"I don't mind," Ranger said. "I had planned on sleeping over tonight anyway, as long as you don't mind."
"Really?" I squeaked.
"Of course," he said. "Where else would I be?"
In your heavenly bed in your luxe apartment, I thought, though I didn't say it out loud. My small efficiency apartment with an outdated bathroom wasn't exactly first-class accommodations.
"And Bob went outside before your dad and I left for Point Pleasant. I fed him, too."
I stared at him as if corn was growing out of his ears. He didn't notice, continuing the conversation.
"I brought something to your apartment for dinner, but if you'd rather stop somewhere for dinner on the way home, it's your call."
"You took out the dog and brought dinner? Who are you?" I asked, only half joking.
"Ella made dinner," Ranger clarified. "I'm just trying to take care of you, if you'll let me."
I let that sink in for a beat. I fought the urge to argue or make a sarcastic remark. A small voice somewhere in the back of my brain reminded me how kind he'd been.
"Thank you," I said, willing myself to accept his attention and be grateful.
I parked in the back of my lot, and we trudged to the elevator and into my apartment. I unlocked the door and pushed it open. Bob greeted us in the foyer, doing his happy dog dance. I stroked his ears and told him he was a good boy, then hung my messenger bag on its hook.
Ranger wandered into the kitchen and began sorting through items in the fridge. He pulled out a bottle of beer, popped the lid, and passed it across the counter to me. I thanked him and took a long pull. He reached into the fridge again, bringing out a carrot, which he set into Rex's bowl.
My heart fluttered in my chest to see Ranger's human side. His sensitive side. The man who cared for my furry menagerie. The man who was caring for me. Batman, meet Bruce Wayne.
Rex emerged from his soup can, wiggled his nose in thanks, shoved the carrot into his cheek pouch, and scurried back into his soup can.
"Are you sure your parents will like me?" I asked hesitantly.
"Of course they will," Ranger said. "I like you. In fact, I love you, so they will too. Don't worry about it."
Ranger continued sorting through the fridge. I was dumbfounded by all the racket he was making. When I'd left this morning, my refrigerator had been empty. I was even out of olives. What the hell was in there?
I glanced over his shoulder and saw that my refrigerator had been stocked full. I could see oranges, apples, cold cuts, a bag of carrots, a head of lettuce, milk, pickles, olives, juice, beer, a cucumber, a dozen eggs, several brown paper packages that presumably contained cuts of meat, various condiments and dressings, a plastic carton of cupcakes, and piles of food I couldn't identify in the back. Three covered dishes sat on the top shelf, and he pulled them out.
"Wow," I said, "Ella went all out. She really shouldn't have."
A smile tugged at the corner of Ranger's mouth, but he didn't say anything.
"What?" I asked curiously. "What's so funny?"
Ranger removed the lids from the containers, exposing two plates with lasagna and one bowl of salad.
"I went shopping," Ranger announced.
I was speechless.
Ranger set one plate in the microwave and pushed the "go" button. The lasagna twirled on the rotating plate.
"Close your mouth, Steph," Ranger said, a smile playing at his lips. "You're going to let in flies."
I closed the distance between us and wrapped my arms around him, his back to my front. I inhaled his scent, splaying my hands across his abs. He placed his arms over mine, interlocking our fingers.
"I love you, babe. I hope you know that."
It had taken years of work, frustrations, failed relationships, and steamy sexual encounters to get us to this point, but it seemed that Ranger and I had suddenly settled into a new normal. I was okay with that. It was time for a change in my life, and I couldn't have asked for a kinder, more generous, stabilizing force.
"I love you too."
Ranger turned to face me, hoisting me onto the counter with his hands at my waist. At this height, Ranger and I were eye-to-eye. He leaned into me, his forehead resting against mine, his eyes locked with mine. He placed his lips softly to mine, his kiss starting gentle but becoming more eager. I returned his enthusiasm, my tongue begging for entry to his mouth.
Ranger broke the kiss, his hands finding the hem of my shirt and lifting it over my head. His lips returned to mine, then traveled down my neck to my collarbone. His hands were everywhere, sparking electricity everywhere he touched. He laid me back on the counter, stripping me of my jeans, socks, and shoes, leaving me in nothing but a pink lace bra and panties.
He planted a trail of kisses starting at my ankle, up my calf and thigh, across my hip, and up to my navel. I trembled with excitement and pent up energy.
Unfortunately, my stomach refused to cooperate in that exact moment. It let out an angry rumble as Ranger kissed my navel.
"Crap," I whined. "That's so embarrassing. I'm sorry."
The microwave beeped, announcing the lasagna was officially reheated.
"Lucky for you, dinner is served," Ranger said, turning to remove the plate from the microwave.
I moved to get off the counter, but Ranger was back in an instant, the plate on the counter and his hands on my body.
He pulled a fork from a nearby drawer, cut a piece of the pasta dish, and carefully fed it to me. I moaned with pleasure as the bite melted in my mouth, savoring it.
"Don't worry," he said. "I'm a man of many talents. Multi-tasking is one of them."
He pushed me onto my back once more and hooked a finger into my panties, removing them in one swift tug.
"I'm going to meet all your needs tonight," Ranger said, trailing kisses up my thigh.
He gave me a playful grin, his head between my legs.
"And tomorrow, I'm buying you a car."
He teased me briefly with his tongue before giving me a truly wicked grin.
"And next week, I might buy you a house. That is, if you'll let me."
Then he kissed me… there… and fireworks exploded inside me.
Oh boy.