"You do? What are you proposing?" Stephanie asked, her curiosity piqued. Carlos motioned for Stephanie to sit on the couch. She moaned as the buttery leather moulded to her body. "So comfortable. You'll have to help me up. I'm not sure I could manage on my own."
"Anything for you, Babe," Carlos replied. He sat beside Stephanie, then reached for the documents on the coffee table. Stephanie never noticed them until that moment. "You need a job, and I have an office position available."
"No! I don't need a pity job," Stephanie snapped. She wasn't a charity case.
"Babe, please, reconsider," Carlos begged. Stephanie groaned. He had to say please. It always guaranteed her compliance.
She sighed and rolled her eyes. Carlos grinned in amusement. Stephanie was expressive, and he loved it. She got distracted by his smile and vowed to make him smile every day. "Fine! What are my duties?"
"Client liaison and office manager," Carlos replied.
"I won't be stuck at a desk all day, would I?" Stephanie asked, narrowing her eyes.
"No. You'll be visiting clients for contract negotiations with Tank or me. I won't put my Babe in a corner," Carlos replied.
"Did you just modify the famous Dirty Dancing quote, then use it on me?" Stephanie asked, her eyes narrowed as she dared him to contradict her claim. Carlos laughed as he nodded. "So I won't be chained to a desk?" His smile had nothing on his laughter. It was music to her ears and made her feel warm and fuzzy inside.
"For a few weeks, yes. Once the doctor clears you for activity, I'll take you to client meetings," Ranger explained.
"Why are you offering me a job I never applied for?" Stephanie wondered.
"You applied for the position before you started working for Vinnie," Carlos explained. "We interviewed the military men first. Tank left a message for an interview. You never replied."
"I never received a call," Stephanie said. She narrowed her eyes. "When did Tank leave the message?" Stephanie couldn't understand how she could miss something that important.
"Tank said your phone got disconnected and sent you an email," Carlos explained, reviewing their communication exchange in the text messages.
"My laptop died last Thursday," Stephanie confessed. The computer would work had the charge cord not burned out. Carlos confirmed Tank sent the email the following day.
"We can get Hector to fix the computer or transfer your data to a new laptop. You never provided your mobile number," Carlos said.
"I don't have one," she confessed. "It was too expensive to keep. Dad paid to reconnect the landline. We briefly discussed a mobile device, but Daddy helped me enough."
Carlos jotted a few things on a list. Stephanie tugged the page from his hand. Under the heading of supplies, Carlos wrote laptop, cellphone, watch, and panic button. He had clothes, shoes, lingerie, and dresses under the header labelled other.
Stephanie read the contract. "Um. I'm not going to pass the entrance tests," she said, pointing to the paragraph. Carlos tugged the papers from her hand, then added a note that Stephanie had longer to meet the requirements due to emergency surgery. He modified the other references to exercise accordingly.
"Do you run?" Carlos asked.
"Only when I can't button my jeans," Stephanie confessed. She wasn't opposed to exercise. Stephanie found the whole sweating part of exercising as something to avoid.
"You'll need to spend time in the gun range."
"I don't like guns," Stephanie reminded him.
"You're a natural," Carlos claimed. "Part of the uniform requires carrying a gun."
Stephanie snorted. "I said I don't like guns, not that I couldn't shoot them. Why does everyone assume I don't know how to fire a weapon and hit a target?" It always frustrated Stephanie when people drew the wrong conclusion.
"Babe? Did you forget to tell me something?" Carlos asked.
Rolling her eyes, Stephanie said, "Daddy and Uncle Joe used to take my cousin and me on their hunting trips. I can tag a deer between the eyes at a hundred sixty yards using a 30-calibre rifle with an accurate scope."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"You seemed determined to show me how to hold the gun," Stephanie said. She didn't mind feeling his muscular pecks and heat pressed against her back. The memory made her hormones go wild.
"I bet you could give Ram a run for his money," Carlos replied. Stephanie rolled her eyes. Who the hell did Carlos think taught her to shoot? Her cousin, Davin Ramsey, competed in various long-range shooting competitions before joining the military. He was one of the best snipers in the army and participated in several sniper competitions.
"Who do you think taught me to shoot?" Stephanie mumbled, speaking Italian.
"How do you know Ram?" Carlos asked.
"Cousin," she replied. "On the Mazur side. Our grandfathers were brothers."
Stephanie yawned as she initialled the changes and signed the contract. Carlos added his signature. "I'll get the Rangeman lawyer to print an updated version for your signature. Wait here," Carlos said.
A few minutes later, Bobby arrived with Stephanie's prescriptions. He shook out a few pain pills and an antibiotic. "Is that penicillin?" Stephanie asked. She refused to take anything without proof. An allergic reaction would hinder her recovery. It wasn't a risk Stephanie was willing to take.
"No," Bobby replied. "Your dad said you're allergic." Bobby grinned when Stephanie demanded to see the bottle. Carlos passed Stephanie a glass of water to swallow the pills.
"I'd like to stay up and visit, but I need to lie down," Stephanie said. Carlos guided her to the bedroom and tucked her into their bed. He kissed her gently, then stroked her cheek. Stephanie smiled at Carlos before closing her eyes. She barely heard the snick of the door closing as he left.
"Is she sleeping?" Bobby asked when Carlos returned to the living room.
Carlos raised an eyebrow when he saw the other men making themselves at home. The men were sitting around the coffee table holding plates overflowing with food. It appeared they hadn't eaten in days. "She's asleep. Where did you get the food?"
"Ella," Lester answered, talking around a mouth filled with food. He paused to swallow the chewed morsel inside his mouth. "Did she decorate this apartment?"
"Yes," Carlos replied. He grabbed a plate of food and a fork, then sat on a chair to eat. Ella cooked his favourite meals using healthier ingredients. Carlos didn't have to worry about the artery-clogging fats in the foods. The flavours reminded him of his teens living with his grandmother in Miami.
Lester collected the leftovers, leaving Carlos to grab the dirty dishes and cutlery. The men worked together to put everything away. Tank washed his hands before returning to the living room.
He grabbed the contract off the side table. "She signed it?" Tank rhetorically asked while grinning. Tank noticed the modifications for exercise. He passed the document to Bobby, who nodded.
"I'll start her on yoga once the doctor clears her," Bobby said. Hector grinned, then added he'd teach Stephanie to throw knives since she didn't like guns. Carlos thought it was an appropriate addition. They carried two guns and two knives at all times. It was part of their military training. Hector carried a gun but preferred the blades.
For a few hours, the men discussed everything they wanted to teach Stephanie. Lester volunteered for martial arts training. Tank offered to teach defensive driving. They told Carlos he should train Stephanie in the gun range. "Men," Carlos sternly said to silence them. "Ram will continue with the weapons training."
"Continue? What does that mean?" Lester interrupted. He was confused. How could Ram have trained Stephanie on weapons if she had never met him?
"It means Davin trained me on handguns and rifles," Stephanie said, calling Ram by his given name, proving she knew the man. "Carlos, I need help." Her face was pink from embarrassment. She needed Carlos to help her use the washroom. Stephanie waited inside the bathroom for Carlos to assist.
"Everyone uses the toilet, Babe," Carlos quietly said when Stephanie explained her predicament. Carlos gently pulled down her pants and helped her sit on the toilet seat. Her face turned bright red when her bladder immediately released. Carlos reached beneath the sink to grab a panty liner. He left the bathroom briefly to grab clean panties and shorts.
"What are you doing?" Stephanie asked when Carlos prepared a soapy cloth.
"Washing you," he replied, smiling at the obvious. "We need to keep the stitches clean, and I don't want you bending to reach." Stephanie's face turned bright red as Carlos washed, then pat-dried her privates. "Let me know if the liner pulls on the stitches."
"I'm sure it's fine," Stephanie whispered. Carlos washed his hands, then helped Stephanie stand. He gently pulled up the clean panties and shorts. "Thanks." Stephanie knew her face was beet red.
Carlos kissed her lips, then turned her to wash their hands. Stephanie's heart raced as her breath caught in her throat. "Just breathe," he whispered. Carlos dried their hands, then turned to face her. He gently kissed Stephanie, proud of her for asking for help. "There's food in the fridge for you," Carlos said when Stephanie's stomach growled.
Stephanie blushed from her stomach loudly demand for more nourishment. She couldn't control her appetite. The IV provided the fluids her body required as she healed. She had eaten solid food for the past few days, but it wasn't enough to satiate her hunger. "I'm so hungry I could eat a horse," Stephanie said.
"Ella made chicken stew for you," Carlos replied. "I'll get it for you." Carlos got Stephanie situated in the oversized chair. He returned with a tray with a bowl of soup, which smelled delicious. Stephanie's stomach grumbled loud enough for the other men to hear.
"Shit, Little Girl. Was that you?" Tank asked. He was shocked to hear a woman's stomach growl that loud.
"Sorry, Big Guy. I can't help it," Stephanie mumbled. "The jello, juice and low-fat food at the hospital didn't fill my stomach. You guys didn't smuggle enough of the real stuff to make a difference." Stephanie ate her soup. She loved the flavours. It tasted better than her mother's soup.
"Was it good?" Lester asked when Stephanie basically inhaled two servings of her food.
"The best chicken soup I have ever eaten," Stephanie confessed. "Do you think Ella would adopt me?"
"Not necessary," Bobby said, grinning. "Ella is Ranger's aunt. You're already part of the family."
"Any other relatives here?" Stephanie asked. She narrowed her eyes and pointedly looked every man in the face.
"We're like brothers but not biologically related," Lester said.
"Brothers in arms?" Stephanie asked.
"I knew you'd get it," Bobby said, holding out his hand, palm up. Lester slapped money into his palm, grumbling about losing the bet. Stephanie found the exchange humorous. She thought it was foolish for Lester to wager against what she would understand. "Les, Stephanie's dad is a general. I told you she'd understand the concept. Steph, are you related to your Uncle Fitz?"
"No. He's been my dad's friend since they were children," Stephanie replied. "I always called him Uncle."
Lester's brows furrowed. He was trying to make sense of something. It evaded him. "You said your dad served with Fitz, right?" Lester asked. Stephanie nodded. "His first name is Fitzwilliam?"
"Fitzwilliam Connors," Stephanie replied. Lester groaned. "Do you know him?"
"He kept busting my balls in basic training," Lester whined, making Stephanie giggle. Fitzwilliam had no patience for distracted soldiers. She noticed him fidgeting on the couch.
"Do you have ADHD or something?" Stephanie asked. The others laughed. Lester confessed he did have issues with maintaining focus. Serving in the army helped control the urges. "Okay. That makes sense. His brother got too distracted during deployment and got his troop killed. Uncle Fitz was ensuring you understood what was at stake."
"I get it," Lester replied. "He certainly made sure I could focus on my tasks. I wouldn't have made it without him busting my ass."
Bobby grabbed Stephanie's tray and bowl to return them to the kitchen. Stephanie heard the water run and the dishwasher door open. "I could get used to this," Stephanie said.
Carlos gently lifted Stephanie, then sat on the chair with her on his lap. He carefully situated her to protect the cuts and stitches from pulling. "Babe?" he whispered.
Stephanie knew Carlos was asking if she was okay. "I'm fine, Ranger," she replied. "Just a little tenderness." Bobby grabbed the pain pills for Stephanie. "Do you have Tylenol? Those make my head fuzzy. I forget things when I take them." Carlos had to repeat himself in the hospital many times. It took a few days for the drugs to leave her system so she could think straight and remember what he told her. Carlos was patient, which she appreciated.
Bobby briefly glanced at Ranger before agreeing. Stephanie rolled her eyes. Carlos wasn't her boss. Well, technically, he was her Rangeman boss, but not someone to make her personal life decisions. Bobby grabbed his medical bag to grab the pills for Stephanie. Lester gave her a glass of water while Bobby shook a few pills from the bottle. She popped them into her mouth before taking a drink.
Stephanie sighed as she relaxed against Ranger's muscular chest. The heat radiating off his skin through his shirt warmed her from the chill she felt when Bobby removed the heated tray from her lap.
Hector grabbed the blanket Ella draped over the back of the sofa. He covered Stephanie before returning to his seat. Stephanie smiled at her new friend. His scary expression got betrayed by his kind actions. "I love it here," Stephanie sighed.
"Are we living here?" Carlos asked.
"Mmm hmm," she replied. "I'll buy out my apartment lease with the money Hector let me have from capturing Morelli."
"We can empty your apartment," Lester offered.
"That's fine. I don't plan on returning," Stephanie confessed.
"We'll take care of everything," Hector said, speaking Spanish.
"De nada," Stephanie replied. She felt Carlos inhale a sharp breath. Carlos had declared his love and devotion to Stephanie, speaking in Spanish. He had no clue Stephanie understood anything he said. "Yes, Carlos. I understood every word. I'm too exhausted to bother denying it or pretend I don't understand."