Chapter 11
Ranger
The moment I stepped onto the fifth floor the back of my neck was tingling with the awareness I'd come to associate with one Stephanie Plum, but that made no sense. It was barely seven in the morning. I'd never seen her in the building this early. In fact, as of yet I had no definitive proof that Steph existed at all before eight-fifteen. While part of me wanted to brush the feeling aside, a phantom sensation brought on by the fact that I so often had it when stepping onto the command floor these days, my gut was telling me to find her. And I'd learned to never ignore my gut feelings.
Gathering my neutral expression so as not to give the impression that anything was amiss, I stopped five slow steps from the stairwell door and scanned the main area for signs of her curly head popping up over a cubicle wall. If anyone asked, I would tell them I was just taking stock of the office. The deviation from my usual routine of heading straight for the bank of screens to check in with the guys on monitor duty would be a little harder to spin, so I hoped no one was paying that much attention to my routines as I strode in the complete opposite direction to circle past Steph's desk.
Everything appeared exactly as it was when I'd passed it on my way upstairs last night, so I continued walking, taking a round-about path back to the monitors that took me past the break room.
The tingle grew stronger as I approached, peaking when I reached the open doorway, compelling me to stick my head inside. And sure enough, there on the couch, with a cup of coffee cradled between both hands, her feet tucked up under herself as she leaned against the arm rest, was Stephanie Plum. She was dressed ready for work in black pants and one of the blouses I'd had Ella embroider with the Rangeman logo, but her heels were set, empty, on the floor in front of her beside her purse. Her eyes were closed and I thought she might have been sleeping until they blinked open, landing on me immediately as I stepped over the threshold.
"Car-uh Ranger," she said, straightening and swinging her feet down to the floor. Even after almost a month of working here, she still struggled to call me Ranger, and if I was being honest, I was disappointed every time she belatedly remembered. Using my street name put distance between us that I wanted to remove. It sounded wrong on her lips in a way that hearing her say Carlos was right, and that scared me. As much as I tried to deny and push aside my feelings, they were seeping through the barrier I'd erected, drip by drip and I was running out of fingers to plug the leaks. One of these days she was going to do or say something and the dam would break and I'll be on my knees confessing everything to her.
I couldn't have that. On a prolonged inhale, I tamped down all the feelings, slathering on a fresh layer of spackle and tuned back into what she was frantically rambling about.
"- battery died, so I had to call Lester and Bobby for a lift, but since they had to be here so early I didn't have a choice and-"
"Babe," I uttered, cutting her off and simultaneously admonishing myself for allowing that name to slip past my defences. Again. It had started as a single mistake, a slip of the tongue on her first day, but as the weeks passed, I'd noticed it taking root in my vocabulary so much that it often took effort to remember to call her by her name. The last thing I wanted was to slip up in front of Tank or Bobby, or worst of all, my idiot cousin. I could only imagine the chaos he'd create if he heard it.
"It's fine. You can hang out here whenever you need. Do you have a plan to get your car fixed?" I waited for her silent nod, trying to not be drawn in by the doe-eyed expression she suddenly had on her face. She didn't know it, but she held a frightening amount of power over me. "And to get home?"
Her lips parted, but then she looked away with a frown, realisation crossing her features. "I didn't think that far ahead. I could probably ask Bobby and Lester for a-"
"Lester and Bobby are scheduled for shifts that run late today," I pointed out. "But I can drive you home."
Her eyebrows shot up in surprise, but again she nodded. "Uh, thanks," she said slowly, lifting her mug to her lips and taking a small sip as her surprise morphed into something softer. "But I can call my Dad if it's inconvenient."
And just like that, more words were coming out of my mouth, and I couldn't stop them. "My last meeting ends at six, so if you like we can grab dinner upstairs before I take you home." Where the hell had that come from?! I didn't need to be intermingling my professional and personal lives any more than I already was. Taking her to dinner to apologise for how I treated her is one thing, but inviting her into my personal space? I'd never had a woman in my apartment, and for security reasons, it was best to keep it that way.
"Oh." The surprise was back on her face while I attempted to smooth out my thoughts. I'd already vetted her to work in the building, and once you were in the building and had access to a computer, it wasn't much of a stretch to gain access to my private sanctuary on the seventh floor. Probably, if I wanted to keep it secure and unattainable, I should live elsewhere, separate from the business. Something to think about.
"That sounds nice." She graced me with a genuine smile, and all the worry that had been swirling inside me ceased to exist. That smile could cause entire armies to pause in the middle of a battlefield conflict, just to bask in the glow.
I gave myself a mental shake, reminding myself that relationships were not in the cards for me. Steph was a temptation, but I couldn't give her more than I was already giving her: A place to work, a helping hand. Anything more would put her in danger. Anything more and she'd be vulnerable to the enemies I'd made over the years. The last thing I wanted was for her to be hurt because of me.
Unbidden, Mama's ultimatum to have real interactions with the people in my life sailed through my head and I strengthened my resolve. I could be her friend. I could get to know her better. But that was as far as it could go.
She was sipping her coffee again, watching me over the rim of the mug, making me feel seen and unguarded in a way that I wasn't comfortable with. I knew it was unfounded, but I felt like she could see straight through all my defences to the secrets I kept hidden deep inside; the dark, twisted moments of my career I tried desperately to forget. And for someone who prided myself on my privacy, on keeping the demons locked tightly away from the light of day, it was a scary notion.
"I should get back to work," I said with a nod, backing away toward the door. "Enjoy your coffee."
I turned on my heel and marched out of the room, admonishing myself for how freaked out I was feeling. I'd faced certain death at the hand of a firing squad and come out alive, calm enough to continue my mission and achieve my objectives, but a smile and a look from a woman had me shaken? Pathetic. By the time I reached the bank of monitors, I'd regained my composure. My blank mask was firmly in place, my thoughts were centred and I was ready to tackle the day ahead of me, so long as my tongue didn't take any solo adventures without my brain's approval when faced with Steph.
*o*
Dinner was pleasant and friendly in the same way the apology dinner at Rossini's had been. We talked about work, mostly. I asked how she was settling in, if she was having any difficulties with the men, or if she needed further training in any aspects of the job. She pointed out that while it was a different environment to what she was used to, she was really enjoying the job, and the men were all really nice to her. (They'd better be for all the threats I'd made to keep them in line). Then she proceeded to ask about various aspects of the business that she had less exposure to, making suggestions and giving me things to think about. And it wasn't until I was ankle deep in a story about how I'd used the money from missions I'd run to start up the first infant form of Rangeman down in Miami that I realised she'd asked me about my life and I hadn't even contemplated not telling her.
That caused me to pause in my explanation and excuse myself to the bedroom under the guise of needing to take an important phone call, when really I was just giving myself a stern talking to. Just because she wasn't forbidden fruit anymore didn't mean I should fall down the rabbit hole, tell her every intimate detail of my life, ask her to marry me and put up a white picket fence around our lives. I needed to get my head on straight, or I was going to do something I'd regret. Something that would ultimately push her away. I could handle her in my orbit as a friend, colleague and honorary family member, but I couldn't forgive myself if I hurt her.
After that, things had been a little stilted. She didn't ask me any more questions about myself, for which I was grateful. But I was too off kilter to rely on my usual instinct for finding just the right topic to get my dinner partner talking enough that they didn't notice I wasn't active in the conversation. It didn't take us long to finish the delicious meal Ella had provided for us, and then I was ushering her to the door with an awkward, "I suppose I should get you home."
In the car, she launched into a tale involving her grandmother, a funeral parlour, and a casket that had me both quietly chuckling and silently thanking the universe that, while Abuela was strict and authoritarian, she was not prone to bouts of whatever craziness Steph's grandmother appeared to thrive on.
We were both smiling as I pulled into the parking lot behind her apartment building, scanning the cars and not finding the familiar red Miata. I mentioned it's absence to Steph and she let out a sigh, her joyous demeanour deflating as she flicked a curl that had sprung free of her ponytail out of her face.
"Yeah," she said, as I pulled up to the building entrance. "Dad organised for someone to come out and replace the battery while I was at work, and it turns out the problem is a lot bigger. He got them to take it into the shop to get it fixed, but I'm probably without wheels for at least a week. Which sucks, because Manoso-Santos dinner is this weekend, and Lester and Bobby will be coming from the opposite direction after visiting Katie and the new baby, so I won't have a lift. I guess I could always call a cab, or-"
"Babe, I can drive you to family dinner," I offered, silently cursing as that name slipped easily past my lips again. Twice in one day was a record.
She grimaced, unbuckling her seatbelt and reaching for her bag from the footwell. "Thanks, but I prefer to be on time or early for dinner," she said, a hand on the door handle. "I'll just-"
"I can be on time, Steph," I cut her off firmly. "I-" I was about to explain how I had excellent time management skills when she suddenly turned back to me with both her eyebrows raised, an accusatory expression starting to form.
"So you really do arrive late deliberately to upset your mother?!" she questioned.
A shock ran through me that wasn't entirely unpleasant. Something about her calling me out for my actions was thrilling. "No," I said, then thought about it a second and amended. "Well, yes, but you don't understand."
She settled back into the seat again, with an expectant expression, her hands folding together on top of her purse as she stared directly into my eyes. "Then explain it to me," she instructed.
I took a breath, that same thrill wilting a little as I realised explaining meant admitting all the ways I could be vulnerable, all the ways my family could be vulnerable just by me showing up. "My work for the government means that-" I started evenly.
"Bullshit."
I started in surprise. I'd seen her pull this kind of stern manoeuvre on Lester a couple times, which had been amusing. Seeing my cousin put in his place always had a mood lifting effect on me, but being in the direct line of fire from Steph's icy blue stare was something entirely different. "What?" I finally managed to utter.
She shook her head, letting out a derisive sound as she flicked the curl again. "So you think," she said, returning her gaze to mine. "That because of the work you do, you're too dangerous to be around?"
I nodded, feeling like I'd laid my foot on a landmine and if I opened my mouth to try to defend myself, the pressure would change and I'd be blown up.
"But I know for a fact that Lester and Bobby do that kind of work as well," she pointed out. "Just less frequently."
"They don't-," I couldn't control my tongue, attempting to make her see my point of view even as I felt certain it would lead to my demise.
She held up a finger, her face the picture of authority, and I'd be lying if I said it was a turn off. "Unless your sentence ends in you acknowledging that they rarely miss family dinner, you should probably close your mouth," she commanded, and my teeth clacked together as I snapped my mouth shut, staring at her in wonder. I was in serious trouble if she was going to make a habit of this kind of behaviour. I'd never met a woman I wasn't related to that had the gumption to square up to me like this, and it was doing things to my internal organs that I couldn't easily control. In fact, they might be irreparable.
"I'll pick you up at four thirty," I informed her.
We stared at each other a minute and then she nodded shortly, reaching for the door and thrusting it open, letting in a cold blast of air. I tried to avert my eyes, so as not to stare at her ass as she got out, and then she was standing on the curb, leaning back into the car, a sweet smile on her face. "Thanks for the lift, Carlos," she said. "I look forward to seeing you here on Sunday, four-thirty on the dot." And with that, she closed the door and sauntered into her building, leaving me reeling.
I was in deep shit, I acknowledged as I watched her ass sway side to side until it disappeared behind the frosted glass doors. Deep, deep shit. Stephanie Plum held too much power over me, and I was one swift wind, one smile, one stern expression from caving to the desires coursing through my body.
