Chapter 101: Together with my Best Friend(s)
Ranger’s POV
I love my Babe.
She screams loud enough to bring hotel security to the room.
And Mark. He shows up, gun drawn, and is determined to search the room until he realizes his boss isn’t exactly dressed.
So is Diego. And Hec. And Connie, ML, and Candy. Each one shows up, guns drawn and confused. Well, not ML. She shows up with a pot.
“ML, what’s the pot for?”
“Well, I don’t have a gun. I found a pot. I made do, OK? I was worried and I grabbed a weapon. So sue me.”
Perhaps I should consider a new ‘Surprise!’ hello.
“I’m fine, guys. No seriously, I’m fine. Heard some great news over the phone from a friend, forgot I wasn’t at home.”
I’m in the bathroom listening to her lie to hotel security, her partner, my men and her friends. I’m laughing silently.
“No, I don’t need you to search the room. Guys, I need to put on some clothes. Seriously. Thank you very much for the assistance. Good night.”
I finally hear the door close and I wait. She walks back into the bathroom.
“Were you trying to kill me?” She’s all pink and moist from the shower and my pants are tightening.
“No. Surprise?” I shrug and she rolls her eyes.
“Thanks. So . . . how long are you here?”
She looks suspicious but clearly longing to hug me. I pull her closer and smell the citrus hotel shampoo she used. “I may need to go back to the East Coast again for a few random surveillance measures but I’m here for right now.”
“For right now?” she asks softly, moving closer still.
I smile. “I don’t foresee needing to leave before you go home.” I tug the towel from her body.
“And after?”
“Hopefully not.” I look down. “The evidence has been handed over. Manny is in charge of bringing White down. Knox has been arrested. You could say I’m done.” I hope the questions are over. Her nipples are saying hello.
The kiss that follows that statement is less a kiss and more a declaration.
I love you.
I missed you.
I really missed you.
Our mouths meet in a frenzy of heat and passion and longing aggravated by nine lonely months apart. There are no gentle nips, no playful caresses. This is all about need and want and desire. This is fire and heat. She wraps her long legs around my waist and kisses me, neck, shoulders, lips, whatever she can reach. I move forward, Steph tumbles back onto the bed, and I land right on top of her.
I don’t waste any time reacquainting myself with her body. With the sweet curves and soft skin I’ve missed for weeks. I catalogue every sigh and every moan, attentive as always to her needs. I make love to her, body and soul, with all of me. Every thrust, every squeeze and caress, tells her of my love for her, my devotion to her, and my acceptance of her trust and love.
It’s over too soon, so I immediately roll over and give her the run of me and she takes it. From my lips to my toes, nothing on my body is left untouched. She redresses me and sinks on top of me, head thrown back in ecstasy, and sets a punishing rhythm. Her eyes, her face, are fierce and loving and I commit it to memory.
My woman. Mine. Nothing will take her from me.
She tweaks and pinches my nipples, runs her hands through my hair and holds onto the headboard behind me as she speeds up and it triggers my release. I roll her back over and thrust to my completion, whispering her name like a benediction, and it triggers her orgasm. I roll back over and watch as she comes, red and sweaty and sexy and beautiful. So beautiful.
She collapses on top of me, exhausted and smiling. Just the way I like her. She curls up next to me and sighs. “Are you going to stay in here?”
“Tonight? Yes. My room is on the 3rd floor. I’ll give you a key. Only Tank knows I’m here so far.”
“Did you text him?”
“Yes. Why?”
“I was with him,” she says, looking disgruntled. “He said you weren’t joining us.”
“I didn’t intend to join you at Sonic’s. I did intend to be here when you got here, though.”
“Were you in Market Square?”
“Maybe.”
She laughs quietly. “I thought so.”
Damn. No playing hide and seek with her. I kiss the top of her head. “Missed me?”
“Not really,” she replies, shrugging. Her cheeks pink and I grin.
“Liar. I think you missed me.” I look down at her.
“I think you missed me more,” she says, stroking my erection. She slides on top of me and I steady her while her hands slide across my chest. She tweaks my nipples and laughs.
“I’m starting to think you like it when I’m on top.”
“I don’t have any complaints.” I reach into the bedside drawer.
“Safety cuffs?” She looks excited by the thought. I jerk my head to the TV, where I left my guns and knives. I hand her the cuffs, slide out of bed to check the safety latch on the door in the living room, and return.
“You can’t cuff me to anything. I’ve checked. I’ll correct that later but if you want to cuff my hands together, go for it.”
Steph’s POV
I glance at the cuffs and toss them back in the drawer. “Round three.”
“Love the enthusiasm, Babe.”
I stare pointedly at his erection. Ranger’s recovery time is amazing.
“You were missed in a lot of ways,” Ranger mutters. I’m trying to hide the laugh but I can’t. I look up at him. He looks as if he’s thinking of smiling.
I still can’t believe he’s here, but . . .
“The beard is . . . ” I’m not sure. Hot yet not all at the same time. I never expected Ranger’s face to be half hidden under hair. It was definitely ticklish. I liked it. Old man Ranger is hot. He has a few strands of gray. Sobering thought.
He looks as if he’s thinking of smiling. “I’ll shave. If I managed to grow this in 2½ weeks, I’ll have the full beard by the time I head to Syria.”
“Thank god,” I mutter.
“You don’t like Hairy Carlos, Babe?”
I bite my lip and try not to laugh. “Hairy Carlos?”
He grins. “No manscaping here.”
I tug the sheet away and look. Ranger looks the same. Just that hideously gorgeous beard.
“Is it over?”
“Almost. White will be in custody by this time next week.”
I pull my face away from his chest. “You mean he’s still free?”
“At the moment. He shot Juana. I thought she should have the honor of taking his ass down.”
“That’s wonderful.” I’m looking him over. “Where did the burn on the side of your neck come from?”
Ranger’s face shutters slightly. “Bullet?”
“Is that an answer to my question?”
“Yes.”
I sigh. “Would you tell me the full story without me having to coerce it from you?”
“I’m sure you’ve seen it on the news. Police in Orlando, Florida are looking for a third man to charge in the shooting near Disney.”
“That was you?”
“Yup.” Ranger tugs the sheet away from my chest and eyes my nipples. They perk up and decide to say hello.
“Te amo,” I whisper. I get the 1000W smile for that.
“Te amo tambien, Stephanie.” Ranger picks me up, places me in the middle of the bed and slides in next to me. I straddle him and start kissing him, soft deep kisses, just trying to assure myself he’s here. I still can’t believe it. Ranger immediately places his hands on my waist to steady me.
Ranger spends the next hour assuring me he’s really there. He covers every inch of my body in kisses and we make love slowly this time. The orgasm is perfect and Ranger is kissing the backs of my knees, watching me shudder and squirm, when his phone beeps. I ignore it and the room phone rings.
“Ignore it.” It continues ringing and I look at him. Ranger sighs and nods.
I answer it. “Yes?”
“Tell him to tone it down. The walls are paper-thin,” Hector says.
I look at Ranger, horrified. He grins. “Oh god, please tell me you’re joking.”
“Nope. Night, partner.” Click.
“Carlos—”
“Don’t say you can’t.” He gets out of the bed, pulls the door to the bedroom, and smiles. “OK, so only Hec is going to have his night ruined.”
“Mark is on the other side,” I whisper. Oh my god, who heard us? Did . . . I cover my face with the pillows and wonder if it’s possible to die of embarrassment
Ranger picks up the phone and dials.
“Yo.” Mark and he sounds groggy.
“Phillips.”
“Sir!” Awake and alert now.
“Have you heard any noises from the CO’s room?”
“No, sir. I was asleep, but I can go check.” I hear him getting out of bed.
“No, go back to sleep. And try not to hear anything you’re not supposed to hear.”
Mark is quiet for the moment. “I’m pretty certain that I can stuff the pillows against my head, sir.”
“Good.” Click.
I bury my face in Ranger’s shoulder. “Oh my god! I can’t believe you just did that.”
“Did what?”
“You practically told Mark we were in here . . . making love!”
“He was asleep and I know him. He’ll knock out again in five minutes. Military training. Sleep when you can.”
I’m staring at Ranger. Are you KIDDING me?
Ranger’s POV
Now we only have to worry about Hec and his night-owl tendencies. I’ve considered drugging him in the past. May need to do it anyway.
Steph’s looks embarrassed and mortified. I want to laugh but I’m betting that’s the wrong thing to do here. I smile instead.
“OK, what’s the plan for tomorrow, Babe?”
She snuggles back against me. “We’re supposed to go scouting with Lula for flowers and favors.”
“Fun.”
“All the fun of wedding planning, no pressure to be the bride.”
“Not interested?”
She’s quiet for a long time. “Not right now.”
“Fine.”
“Why?” She shifts to look at me. “Am I ring-eligible now?”
“Is that what you want?”
“Ranger.”
“Carlos.”
Again, she’s quiet. “Carlos. I thought you had no intention of getting remarried.”
“I didn’t.” I sit up. “I’ve changed my mind on some things.”
“Marriage.”
“With you? A possibility. If that’s what you want. When you’re ready.”
She sits up and squirms. I smile. “Want another round?”
She stares down at the sheets. “No.”
“Jump in the shower. I’ll check for sheets.”
Steph hits the shower and I check the closet for extra sheets. I find them, strip and resheet the bed, and join her in the shower.
We finally leave the shower when the water starts running cold. My cock is straining and Steph is boneless.
“New sheets on the bed?”
“Yeah.” I need five minutes. That’s all. I’m close and if she gets out, I can handle this.
“Need help?”
“I got it.”
Steph snorts and sinks to her knees. “I’m not selfish,” she says.
I look down. No, she’s not selfish. I grab the safety bar and the shower rod and hold on. Steph’s learned some new things from Cosmo and I’m gritting my teeth to prevent myself from yelling. I’m just barely successful. I’ve never come that hard and I’m panting like I’ve just run a marathon when Steph stands back up and smiles.
“Better?”
I look at her. My cock is limp and exhausted. “I can’t stand your best.”
She laughs and climbs out. I’m right behind her. We both brush and climb back in the bed.
I’m drifting off, thoughts of work and play with my Babe by my side going through my head, when she pokes me.
“Were you serious about the ring?”
I open an eye. “What’s this really about, Babe?”
“Trying to figure out what’s changed.”
I sigh mentally. “Morelli’s out of your life, you and I want this, and we’re both ready. Timing’s bad but that’s life. Timing is never great. I don’t want to waste time debating the things I already know.”
“Like?”
“Like the fact that you and I love each other. We’re committed. This is permanent and we both mean what we’ve said.” I roll over to face her. “You’re a good Catholic girl. You’re faithful and at some point, making this permanent in some way is going to be on your mind.”
“What makes you think that?”
“That’s why you stayed with Morelli, right? Because he offered the possibility of marriage, kids, the white picket fence?”
She’s quiet. I’m wondering if I called that wrong.
“I know that just because he offered it that doesn’t mean you were definitely going to take it, but it was more than I was willing to commit myself to. I get that. That’s what’s changed. If you’re serious that you want me, that you want a life with me, then I’m telling you now that I’m willing to make a commitment as long as you understand that your life with me will be different from the life you may have imagined with Morelli.”
She’s solemn. “How?”
I roll onto my back and pull her on top of me. “I don’t know what you and Morelli may have agreed or not agreed on, but knowing what I do about the man, he’s traditional. He wants his wife at home cooking his meals, having his babies, and running carpool. That’s not a crack at him. It’s fine for him to want that. I have different needs.”
“And they are?”
I’m fighting the sleep to answer her questions. “I want someone who understands that I’m busy but never too busy for her. I want someone I can bounce ideas and thoughts off. I want someone who has a sense of fun and adventure, someone who can handle me disappearing and reappearing with only a few minutes’ notice, someone who can make her own moves. Someone I can trust completely.” I open my eyes at her. “I want the woman with me right now.”
“You don’t know how I’ve changed.”
“Have you stopped loving me?”
“No.”
“Then I have an entire lifetime to learn about these new changes. Besides, I’ve changed this past year too.”
“How?”
I smile and close my eyes.
-oOo-
Somewhere around 0200, I wake and catalog my surroundings. Steph? By my side, asleep. Location? Her bedroom. Time? 0224 EST. I reset my watch alarm for 0800 CST.
“Babe?”
“Hmm …” The legs shift and she’s nearly on top of me again.
“You have an alarm somewhere?”
“iPad.”
“Code?”
“Birthday.”
I pick up her iPad, enter her birthday and get a no. I reenter her birthday. Still no.
“Steph?”
“Hmm?”
“1002?”
“0802,”she mumbles.
“My birthday?” I’m pleased and surprised.
“Mmm hmmm.”
I enter my birthday and clear her security. I find her alarm app and check the alarm. 0530. I reset it to 0815. I grab my phone and send a message to Hector that I’m here, I’m in Babe’s room, and no one needs to come knocking in the morning.
I get an almost immediate reply back. I chuckle silently. He’s still only sleeping four hours a night.
-oOo-
“Oh my God!”
I bolt upright in the bed, wide awake. Steph vaults over me, out of bed, and runs for the bathroom looking frantic.
“I overslept! Everyone will be waiting on me! Everyone—” She shuts the bathroom door in my face and I chuckle.
“Is just waking up themselves. Time’s back an hour, remember. You’re meeting the girls at 0900. That’s 1000 at home.” I hear the toilet flush, the water run for a moment, and the door reopens. Babe looks disgruntled. I pull the bra off her and smile. Babe was trying to dress in a panic. Her bra was inside out. “Relax. I took care of it last night.”
“You could have told me,” she says, glaring at me. I tug her back into the bed with me.
“I wanted to tell you last night, but you looked peaceful asleep. I decided to let you sleep.”
I’ve tugged her back over to our bed. I slide the panties from her body and lean my forehead against her belly. Steph’s fingers are massaging my scalp and I breathe deep.
I don’t think of myself as a sentimental man, but I love holding her when she’s close. Now that Morelli is no longer a concern, I’m indulging myself. I get to touch her, kiss her, and make love to her as much as I please and he’s not a factor anymore.
This is heaven. Enjoy ‘Sharon’, Joe. She’s better for you anyway.
Damn wedding planning. I check my watch. 0830. I kiss her belly button. “Plan?”
“I don’t know.” I let go and Steph reaches for her cell phone. “Everyone’s been texting. Lula has a bunch of places for us to check out but we’re starting with breakfast tacos.”
Not surprised. Tank’s addicted to those.
-oOo-
Babe leaves to go wedding shopping with Lula and the girls. I leave her room to shower and change. I’m thinking about breakfast when there’s a knock at my door.
“Yo!”
“Yo!” I get a tight hug from Bobby. He passes me his shave case. “Whew!” He whistles. “Hairy Ric came for a visit, huh?”
“A short one. Takes me less time to grow a beard now than it did when I was in my twenties,” I reply. I take the shave case to the sink. Bobby. Only man I know with a straight razor and it’s lethally sharp. Hector enters the room and I sigh. Tech guys. If it has a chip, it’s not off-limits to him.
He smirks. “What?” Bobby is laughing his ass off, as usual.
“Just couldn’t miss this, huh?”
“Think of it as payback. I’m running off three hours of sleep.”
“Why?” Bobby asks.
Hector looks at him and rolls his eyes. “My room is next to Angelita’s. You put two and two together.”
Bobby grins at me. “Had another orgy without me and Les? I’m hurt, Ric.”
“I’d flip you off, but I’m fond of my neck.” I’m shaving with short, quick strokes. There’s a knock at the door. Hector disappears and reappears with Tank and Les.
“Not with your lady, RB?” I murmur, moving along my chin.
Tank shudders. “You really think I want to be there while they discuss dresses, shoes, and undergarments? No thanks. I had enough negotiating the colors.”
We all laugh.
“She knew I was there.”
“Damn.” Tank shakes his head. “Make it official. That’s unreal.”
I know, man. I know. Les’s stomach rumbles.
“Food,” he says. “I’m tired and hungry.”
“Cool. You’re driving.”
“Fine. I need to go move some stuff out of the Range Rover.”
“Nah. Different car.”
“Huh?” Les looks confused.
“Keys are on the table in the dining area.”
Les leaves. Next thing I hear is “HOLY FUCKING HELL!” He reappears, eyes wide. “I got your BMW keychain. Shitty joke, by the way, and if this is another, I might kill you.”
I smirk. “Hit the alarm button.”
Les hits the alarm button and we hear a faint, but insistent alarm. He runs for the windows and the guys follow him.
“You bought me a Vanquish!” Les is jumping up and down like a little kid at Christmas and the guys are laughing their asses off. “Holy fucking hell, Ric! A Vanquish?!”
“Take your RB and go test drive it. We’ll call you with the breakfast spot.”
Les is out of the door, with Bobby hot on his heels, before I’m done with the sentence. Tank returns, shaking his head.
“You know they’re not meeting us for breakfast, right? Les’ll have three tickets before noon.”
I grin. Almost done. Hector appears in the doorway, grinning.
“So . . . if she blows up my Lexus?”
I sigh. “What do I need to replace it with?”
“I’m not opposed to a Vanquish.” Hector grins. Tank laughs and leaves the bathroom.
“Where would you put Mijo?”
Hec sighs. “Fine. I’ll make do with a Jag XF.” He rolls his eyes, grins, and leaves.
I consider this. Not much more than Hec’s current car. My brother is definitely not a greedy man. Everything he does is about Mijo in the end.
I’m done. I wash my face and check. Nicked myself once, laughing at Les, but otherwise? Perfect shave.
I walk out and Hector and Tank are waiting. I raise an eyebrow, Tank curves his hand in a ‘U’ and I nod. We hit the door.
“Uh, for those of us who speak?” Hector says, eyebrow raised.
“Breakfast tacos.”
“Oh.”
Tank and I look at each other from the sides of our eyes.
Good to see you too, RB.
-oOo-
I’m working on my second taco when Les and Bobby finally appear, sporting ear-to-ear grins.
“Well?”
Les grimaces. “Damn cops.”
Tank and I look at each other and smile. Hector grins. “How many?”
“None, but I had to talk fast. I was 40 over the speed limit.”
I nearly choke on the taco. “What’s the speed limit?”
“Better question. Were you on the toll road where the speed limit is 85?” Tank asks.
“So suspicious.” “Yes.” Les and Bobby look at each other and grin.
I sit back. “Fuck! Les, you were doing 125? How the hell did you get out of that ticket?”
He grins. “I’m persuasive.”
“Promise the cop a blow job?” Hec mutters.
Tank chokes on his taco. I pound his back and he waves his hand and sips his water. We’re all laughing, tears running down our faces, while Les looks amused.
“I have a brand new Vanquish. You really think I wasn’t going to open it up?”
“Nah, we expected that. Forty over?” I shake my head. “Jesucristo.”
Les and Bobby order and we sit around and talk shit. Damn. It’s been nine months since we’ve all been together. Yeah, I think I’ve just completed my last extended mission.
“So, what have I missed?”
I don’t miss the looks around the table.
“Where do we start?” Les says, smiling.
“You got the videos from her clearance?” Bobby asks. I nod. “Better in person. You will forever regret not seeing her take Danny and Mack down in person.”
I’m sure. I watched those videos for weeks. They were better than TV.
“I, for one, will count watching her rip Pat a new asshole as my top moment,” Les says. He winces and I see Bobby and Tank glare at him momentarily.
I snort. “I’ve had a chance to peek around RangeWorld. What happened in Boston?”
The guys look at each other. “We’re not sure what went down between her and Mark,” Hector says. “We just know that she came back from her weeks at the beach a new woman.”
I nod. I have a clue. I looked at the contracts. Mark got into some shit, tried to hide it from her, and she slammed his ass. Just what I would’ve done. I want to know why she didn’t fire him but I see I’ll have to get that story from her. I look at Tank.
“We talked last night.” I raise an eyebrow. “Care and feeding instructions.” He looks over at Bobby and Les. “She gets it. Back off.”
“Are you absolutely certain about that?” Bobby asks, leaning forward.
Tank nods. “She gets it. We’ve discussed it. I’m satisfied she understands that she has to be careful.” Tank sips his OJ. “However, we need to let it go. Blank slate her again.”
I’m staring at Les and Bobby. I’m glad Tank is making this point. I was prepared to, but they’ll believe it more coming from him. From me, it’s just me protecting my woman, not me looking at the situation objectively. It’s me covering Steph’s ass, as usual, in their heads just as, before, it would have been Tank covering Lula’s ass.
“So we’re just supposed to forget four years of outright ridiculous—”
“Pushing it, Les.” My voice is ice cold and Les stops, mid-sentence, and gapes.
“I think what my RB means to say is that it’s hard to want to let this go after we fought so hard for her in the first place,” Bobby says. He leans forward. “We let it go once, got slapped in the face with it, and you want us to let it go again.” He sits back. “Hard not to feel we got our asses handed to us the first time.”
I wince; gotta love Bobby and his ‘gift’ for putting things delicately.
“You’d leave her to die?” Hector growls. We all look at him.
“Well . . . no,” Bobby says, sighing. “But—”
“Then quit talking yourselves into a corner. She gets it. As the only person sitting at this table who sees her every day, I’m telling you, promising you that she gets it. You weren’t there to watch her break down after the skip blew up in her SUV. That did it for her. That was her ‘Jason Deuce’.”
“What?” Les asks.
Hector tells the guys about the death of the skip and they whistle.
“Damn,” Bobby mutters. “Tough.” He looks at me. “Well, that puts a slightly different spin on it.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Les says, leaning forward. “The entire point of this was for her to value her life without anyone having to die. Now Hec is telling us that it took the death of her skip for her to realize that her life, his life, and Ric’s life are important. Well, while I’m grateful it wasn’t Ric, I’m not going to cheer that Drew Stefanic is dead.”
We all nod. We understand. It’s like the soldier who finally realizes that cleaning his gun is important after his partner is killed right in front of him because his weapon jammed.
Les sits back and finishes his water. “Or are you saying that Drew Stefanic’s life didn’t matter as long as Steph learned? What if she didn’t get it then? How many more people would have to die in some horrible accident before she got it? How many deaths are appropriate, Hec?”
Hector sits back, stunned.
Les’s angry and there’s no stopping him right now. “You guys think I’m crazy, not quite tied tight all the time because you think I’m reckless, but that’s not true and you know it, Ric.” I nod. “It’s always been important to me to accomplish the objective without a loss of life. Always!
I don’t consider the loss of Drew Stefanic’s life an acceptable outcome here. It’s not! You know what his death really means to me, Hec?” He leans forward to Hector. “It’s another person for the Bombshell folder. Another person whose family and friends we have to watch to ensure they don’t come after Steph. You really think that, in their grief, Nancy and Sue won’t blame Steph? That she won’t bear some blame for Drew’s death?”
“No,” I reply quietly. I lean forward. Time to cut Les off. “I’m sure Drew’s family and friends will blame Steph unfairly for what happened and that’s exactly what it would be. Unfair. Drew was FTA. Steph did her job hauling him in. She secured him in the SUV. Thomas chose to blow that SUV up. Steph had nothing to do with Thomas’s shit decisions.
You’re confusing Steph’s shit luck with her conscious decisions. Her luck? She has nothing to say over that, just like the loss of your Beemer. She drove it not expecting to have it blown up. That’s just her shit luck. The mall? That was a conscious decision she made that Tank, Hec, and I have all ripped her a new one for.”
I sit back. “No, Drew’s death is not an acceptable outcome, but it was the lesson she learned from seeing how her shit luck puts her in enough danger that was enough for her to get it. Drew’s death was not her decision. Don’t tar her with it.”
Les shakes his head. “I’m not saying it’s her fault that Drew died, Ric. I’m saying it should not have taken something that drastic for her to get it.”
The waitress stops by but we refuse the coffee refill. She walks off and we all stretch and shift. This is going to be an uncomfortable discussion but it has to happen. We need to have this out now, this morning, resolve it and move on.
“Les.” He looks at Bobby. “Steph’s resiliency is one of the most special things about her. After all the shit she’s been through, she still keeps moving forward. A lesser woman would have run screaming from Trenton, bounty-hunting, and Ric long before now. She hasn’t. Respect that. OK, so it takes longer for some messages to sink in. They do.”
Eventually, I mutter mentally. I look at Les and Bobby. They’re having a mental argument. Bobby’s back on our side of the fence and trying to pull Les with him. Les is refusing to come over. He sees my death in Drew Stefanic’s. He sees Hector’s death in Drew Stefanic’s and that’s not acceptable to him.
We’re all quiet. Hec is annoyed and not hiding it. “Besides, you fuckers plan to treat every woman in the company that way?”
We gape at Hector. “What?”
“We’re hiring women into the company. They’re not going to think like us. You guys gave me all the same training you gave Angelita, but you gave me tactics training she never got. I think like you because you’ve trained me to think like you. You plan to train her to think like you? You plan to wipe out everything that makes her Angelita? That makes her special? You plan to wipe out the thinking that’s saved this company twice?”
“That’s not the point and that’s a cop out, Hec,” Les argues stubbornly. “Are you suggesting that women are incapable of common sense, rational thinking?”
“Of course not!”
“Then why argue that line? It’s sexist. It’s implicitly saying, ‘Oh, women aren’t capable of making rational decisions, which is why men have to think for them! They’re incapable of making common sense decisions so we need to train them to think!'”
Each of us is stung, Hec most of all.
“I am the only fucker here partnered with a woman,” he growls. “I know better than anyone else that Angelita is capable of making a rational decision.”
“Then why argue that?” Les counters. “Women may view a situation differently, but there’s a difference between tactical thinking and common sense thinking. I’m aware that women in this company will view situations differently from us. That’s good. We need that new perspective and viewpoint when discussing business decisions and dilemmas. We’re overdue for it, but that’s not the same as realizing that if there’s shit blowing up around you then maybe, just maybe, you should be more careful.
Does it take military thinking to get that? You didn’t need tactical training to realize that you stood to lose your life if you weren’t careful. That’s why you came to use for help, right? Common sense decision. ‘I may die. Let me ask these men for help so I don’t die.’ Are you saying that women are incapable of making that exact same decision about their lives and their safety because they think differently than we do?”
Hector is pale. He knows he can’t argue against that.
“The mall was different, Les. You don’t have all the facts. She went to the mall because she needed time away from everyone. She needed privacy and space. It wasn’t an attempt to just do some shit for the sake of doing it! She needed time away.”
Les barks a laugh. “That’s even worse! So let me get this straight. Instead of asking for leave or vacation or just time away, she decided to go to the mall? Even after being kidnapped in Miami, being followed in the mall there, and hearing her death being ordered like a pizza over the phone, she decided that the threat was over or maybe it just wasn’t serious now that she was home and chose to ditch all security and her partner? After she instituted a vacation leave policy to combat burnout among the men?”
We all cringe. Les is chopping our arguments to pieces bit by bit.
Les laughs a completely disbelieving laugh. “Sexist! Completely sexist thinking. Instead of treating Steph like any other RangeMan who put an op in danger due to a shit personal decision, we’re having a discussion about how this is different because she’s a woman and she needs some space,” he says mockingly. “You’re suggesting we make allowances for sex!” Bobby lowers his hand and Les takes a few deep breaths. He looks around. “Or am I the only man here who has subscribed to some new journals and done some serious soul searching in a conscious effort to work on his sexism?”
I look around. I’m not the only man stung and caught off guard. Les nods.
“Yeah, can’t clean up a problem if you aren’t willing to do the hard nasty work of confronting your own shortcomings.” He turns to Tank and Bobby. “Isn’t that what we had to do with the company? Accept that the company problems were not Steph’s fault, accept our lack of leadership, and resolve to fix it going forward? Well, I’m doing the same with the sexism problem that’s been highlighted. I’m working to correct it and step one is treating all RangeMen the exact same, regardless of sex and/or gender.”
“Good,” Tank says quietly.
“Thanks. See, that’s the difference,” he says, leaning forward and snagging a few sugar packets. “We trained Steph to RangeMan standards and after she passed them I argued in favor of us treating her like any other RangeMan. No guards. Allow her to make the decisions on her movements. We needed to treat her equally and fairly and that was before she highlighted the sexism problem in Miami. I argued we should treat her fairly or am I wrong?” He adds the sugar to his cup and stirs the coffee before looking around for the waitress.
“No, you’re right,” I reply. I wave the waitress over and she refills our coffee cups before walking away again.
“Right! That’s all I want for Steph. I want her thinking to evolve from ‘hmm . . . no deadly enemies directly in front of my face. Everything must be fine.’ to ‘there’s a deadly situation going on. Everyone around me is moving carefully and with a partner. Perhaps I should move carefully and with a partner.’ Rational thinking is not gender specific and we need to stop making allowances. Don’t highlight a problem then ignore the obvious response the first time there’s a breach because it’s a woman. Now we’re fucking hypocrites.”
He snorts angrily. “Maybe she should spend some time with Juana Sanchez to understand how important that is. Juana’s still moving carefully on her leg. Did Juana ask to be shot? Nope. She stuck her nose into a mystery, just like Steph always does, and didn’t know the extent of what she was investigating. She was damn near executed for it. Now she’s under guard and trying to stay alive after fighting for her life in the hospital.”
We avert our eyes as Les wipes his. “I look at Juana Sanchez and see what could happen, has happened to Steph so many times. I don’t want it to happen again. I’m tired of seeing her get hurt. It hurts me, pains me, to see her get hurt and I’m not the only man around this table who is hurt when she’s hurt, am I?”
Each of us shakes our head slowly.
“Right. I want her to move carefully and consider her actions and I don’t want the death of her skip to be the reason she finally gets it. I’m sorry but I just can’t accept the fact that she finally got it because she saw someone die. I can’t accept that that’s what it took for her to get it. The morbid spectacle of someone’s death? That’s wrong. It’s just wrong and what’s worse is that it’s not the first time she’s seen someone die in front of her and it probably won’t be the last, not with her luck.” He breathes deep. “You know why I won’t let this go?”
“Why?” Hec asks quietly.
“Because we’ve seen this before. Abruzzi kidnapped and burned her all because she was trying to find a child. A child! That didn’t even involve an FTA. That’s just classic Steph do-gooding that resulted in her getting kidnapped and burned with a poker. Her shit luck in action, so to speak, but Abruzzi was clearly crazy and she still wouldn’t take precautions! The little security she did accept she demanded you remove almost as quick. That’s why I won’t let this go.” He turns to Bobby. “Second degree burn, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Bobby says quietly.
“How long did that take to heal?”
Bobby swallows hard. “Too long.”
“And she still has the scar.” He turns back to us. “That’s my motivation. That’s why I never want this to happen again. I never want to watch Bobby come back looking pale after treating her wounds. A battlefield medic looking sick after treating a second degree burn? I never had to see the wound to know it had to be nasty.”
I agree mentally. I saw it. I couldn’t eat for days. I look at my last taco and decide to pass on it. I see Tank do the same.
“I never want to watch you, Ric, and Hec go off to do things we can never speak of again. Especially not Hec. Not when we all know how important his faith is to him.” Hector’s eyes drop to the table. “I never want to have to pretend to be you with Tank at my back to give you cover. And I never want to watch Steph try to heal from a deep burn and catch FTAs at the same time. I never want to see the fear I saw on her face after Abruzzi kidnapped and burned her.”
We’re all quiet. This is a talk that’s been long overdue and Les needed to say this. I push my plate to the side and the waitress comes by and retrieves it. She busses the table and refills our coffee as we sit in silence, remembering the event that tied all five of us together.
Les shakes his head. “Move carefully, with a partner at her back, and consider the possible outcomes,” he says quietly. “If she needs time away, time alone, ask for it. It shouldn’t have taken the death of her skip for her to understand that her life is important and I really can’t believe you guys are arguing that because Steph’s a woman and they think differently than we do, we should just set a different standard.
We shouldn’t expect our RangeWomen to make rational decisions because they’re women and they think differently. Because that’s what this is about in the end. Because Steph’s a woman, and women think differently, we should excuse her failure to both communicate and make a rational decision because she’s a woman. That’s the argument you four are making right now and I’m stunned by it.”
He shakes his head. “At the moment, I’m not sure who I’m more disappointed by. Steph, for failing to tell us she needed time away and choosing instead to go to the mall? Or the four of you for trying to explain and rationalize her decision with a line of sexist thinking when we all committed to fighting sexism within the company and within our personal lives.”
With that, the light atmosphere of breakfast is shot. No one can argue Les’s statements and it’s hanging over us like a lead balloon. Every man remembers Abruzzi and most of us, all of us, would like to dig him up just to beat the shit out of him again, but I never realized how much that incident truly affected Les.
Clearly Les has done a lot of thinking in the past few months. I’ll need to get him alone and talk to him. Fuck the car. Les needs a vacation. He’s seen too much, burned the candle at both ends, so to speak, and he needs a mental break.
This thing with Steph is hitting him hard. It’s not about me for him. It’s about her. I’ve always know Les loves Steph, but seeing her get hurt so many times has clearly taken a toll on him. I’ve always been able to bounce back from that. Her decisions. I don’t fight them. I just try to back her and when she gets hurt, I patch her up and help her stand back up. Just what I would want. I’ve always been able to bounce back from situations because I refuse to allow them to affect me.
Les? Les has always felt things deeply. Seeing Steph get hurt so many times has hurt him deeply and now he’s angry because he feels she doesn’t take herself seriously. He doesn’t know everything that’s gone into making Steph the woman that she is. He doesn’t realize that a great deal of Steph is insecurity and hurt masquerading as bravado and determination.
Tank, Hec and I get it. We had those childhoods that leave scars. We had family and/or friends who let us down. Les and Bobby? They had privileged childhoods and have few scars. Les and Bobby get disappointed faster and take things personally because they expect more of everyone around them. They expect people to be rational when they aren’t.
The irony is that Les’s ability to screw with people’s heads is based on his understanding of people and their motivations, but he doesn’t know what I know about Steph. He’s counting the death of Drew Stefanic as a failure in his op when he doesn’t realize that his op succeeded in its objectives.
Les needs a vacation and a new challenge. Time to get him moving again.
I wonder how Javi’s doing with that ball. Nah. It would be cruel to send Les to NYC. Maybe Miami. Yeah, Les needs some downtime and a new challenge. Time to send him to Miami. Plus, if he’s been working to confront his sexist thoughts and actions, he might want to run some scenarios there. Yeah. I think Les is due some down time in Miami.
I look around the table. Les is concentrating hard on his coffee. Bobby is watching Les carefully. I meet Bobby’s eyes and he nods once. He agrees; Les needs a vacation. I look at Tank. Tank is also staring at Les. I meet Tank’s eyes and he shakes his head. I raise an eyebrow and he shakes again. I look at Bobby, who also caught Tank’s action. Bobby raises an eyebrow but Tank shakes again.
Tank will speak to him first. Tank’s picking up something we aren’t. I look at Bobby and he nods. We’ll make a decision after Tank’s talked to him. I look at Hec. He widens his eyes and rolls them in amusement. A clear ‘Oh, you remembered I’m here too?'” I laugh mentally.
Hec sits back. “I’m not saying you aren’t right to be frustrated, Les,” he says quietly. “The mall? That was because she needed time away and no, she didn’t tell anyone, but Ranger and I have addressed that. Tank’s addressed it. Your points are valid, very valid. You’re talking about a deeper issue here that none of us had even thought about or wanted to address.”
Les nods, mollified.
“But you have to let the anger and frustration with her go,” Hec says. “Yes, you’re right. It’s disappointing that it took the death of a man for her to understand her life’s important. I agree with you but again, let it go. She got there in the end and that’s what we all wanted.”
Les’s shoulders slump but he nods.
“Shit, I was frustrated with her. Angelita’s biggest problem is that she still doesn’t communicate her own problems. She expects everyone to guess then gets mad when they don’t.” He looks at me. “Good luck with that.”
I snort mentally. Why do you guys think I’ve made such a study of her? I can read her because I have to.
“Agreed,” Tank says. “I told her to stop that. Stop thinking we’re mind readers. If she needs something, she needs to let us know. But let it go again. Blank slate her. Show her the same trust you show her in running the company.” Tank leans toward Bobby. “You’re holding a grudge against her over the company. You let it go after the NYC call. Hell, you were her biggest cheerleader! What brought it back?”
Bobby sits back and groans. “The mall. Shit, I was just pissed because it didn’t seem as if she got it. I was proud of her, of everything she’d done. I don’t want to see her regress.” He stares at me. “I really don’t want to see her regress.”
“She won’t.” The guys look over at me. I stare at each of them. “I know her history says she will, but she won’t. This means too much to her. Having support in her life makes a difference. Knowing you guys were supporting her, cheering for her, even when I wasn’t around made a difference to her. So don’t bullshit her now. I know you don’t want to, but trust and believe in her again. I talked to her after the skip died. Believe me. She got it.”
Les and Bobby are silent at the end of that statement. Tank and Hec are pointing out the same points I wanted to make. Perfect. However, I understand Les and Bobby’s view. They argued me down on the guards and were both hurt when Steph did something we all saw is foolish. Hell, we were all hurt and confused.
And Les just called us all both sexist and hypocritical. I doubt any of us shake that off anytime soon. I freely admit my response to the mall situation was both sexist and condescending, but I’d prefer Steph to be alive and screaming at me over dead and silent. He’s right, though; our response was completely sexist.
“Let it go,” Hector says. “Don’t give her credit for rebuilding the company on one hand then say you’ll kick her out if she screws up on the other. That’s not how we treat RangeMen. None of us are perfect.”
“Kick ’em in the ass until they get it,” Les murmurs.
“Right.”
“Any fool can criticize, condemn, and complain,” Tank quotes.
Les and Bobby sigh. “But it takes character and self-control to be understanding and forgiving. Right,” they both mutter, finishing the quote. I smile mentally. Tank’s been at his motivation books again.
Les and Bobby stare at each other, mentally arguing this one out. Nothing is more important than the company to Bobby. Nothing is more important than me to Les. And Steph has been in factor in both of those areas of their lives. I can see this is hard for both of them but, finally, their shoulders slump. They’re in. They’ll blank slate her. Again.
“She also reminded me that when Ranger’s life has been at stake, she’s always come through for him,” Tank says quietly. “So let’s acknowledge that. Now, I told her I would try to communicate with her more and I promised her that the mall would never be spoken of again. No one is confronting her with that. I promised.”
Tank looks around the table until everyone nods. We’re in. We’ve always upheld each other’s promises. The mall is an off-limits topic.
“Good. She needs constant communication, but Les, she’s scared to talk to you. I told her about your fondness for fucking with people’s heads.”
Les stretches in his seat. “I’ve never had any interest in screwing with her. Steph’s too easy. It’s the payback you have to be concerned about.” He looks at me. “Fine. I’ll drop it. I really will. If Hec and Tank are satisfied she’s gotten it, if you’re really satisfied that she’s gotten it, I’ll let it go. I’ll blank slate her again and I won’t speak to her about it. I can’t anyway. Nothing I would say would come out right. Just know that if she ever betrays you or causes your death, I’ll have her in a straitjacket in weeks.”
I’m not sure how I want to respond to that. “You’d screw with the woman I love?”
“I’d screw with the woman who betrayed you, yes. I’d screw with the woman who caused your death, yes. At that point, she’s no longer the woman you love to me. She’s the woman who betrayed you and retribution would be required.”
I lean forward. “If she betrays me, that’s for me to deal with. If I’m dead, try to remember that I loved her in life.”
Les stares at me, clearly hurt and hiding it. Finally, he shrugs. “Fine. If she betrays you, I’ll let you deal. If you die, nothing on earth will stop me from driving her insane.”
“My relationship with Steph—”
“Is your business. I won’t be a factor. I still think she’s perfect for you. God knows she’s the only woman who could handle you.” I flip him off and everyone grins. “Seriously, primo, she’s the right woman for you and if you let her get away this time, I’m having your head examined. Make it official with her before Joe realizes what an asshole he is and changes his mind.”
Hector and I exchange a quick glance and start laughing.
“What did we miss?” Bobby says, smiling.
“Joe burned his bridges, his ships, and all methods of retreat,” I reply.
“Fuck,” Tank says, smiling. “He’s done?”
“He sent his goodbye note via his Mommy,” Hec says, sing-song.
Every man winces. “Asshole,” Les says.
“Yeah,” Hec says, grinning. “I have the audio of Steph ripping his mother a new one. It’s one for the ages. It will bring a tear to your eye, but you’ll have to get her permission to listen to it.”
Bobby, Tank, and Les all look at each other. They’re dying to hear it.
“That’s great to hear. Shit,” Les says, shaking his head. His smile drops slowly and he looks back up at me. “Seriously though, I’m happy to know the path is clear and you’re both on it. But if you end up pushing up daisies over some stupid shit that was her fault because she didn’t think, she’ll join you in eternity quick enough.” He looks at Tank. “Same for you and Lula. Trust that.”
The look in Les’s eyes tells me Tank and I won’t win this argument today. Les and I will have to have that one out privately. “How’s Tomas?”
A muscle in Hector’s jaw clenches. He’ll never forgive Tomas for leaving him to die.
“Paranoid. I think his don is ready to move against him.”
He’s a dead man, in other words. I look at Hec.
“She will always be my partner. Get ready.”
I smirk. “Understood. So, Mark and Nikki . . .”
The guys laugh and Hector closes his eyes, looking green. “You are an asshole.”
We laugh, but I think it hits all of us at the same moment. We look at Hec. “When did you learn French?” Bobby asks, amazed. We’ve been speaking in French this entire time and Hector hasn’t missed a word of the conversation. Only his use of connard alerted us to the fact that he’d learned French.
Hector snorts. “I’m tired of being left out of conversations when you fuckers switch from Spanish to something else and don’t realize it. It filled up the evenings.”
We look at each other and laugh.
Nosy little shit!
Steph’s POV
I’m exhausted. Ranger and I made love half of the night. I’m trying to hang in there, but I need a nap.
“You OK, Steph?” Lula asks. I nod. “You look wore out.”
I am, Lula. Worn out and sore, wonderfully sore. We’re in the Escalade and there are four RMSA guys in another truck following us.
“How do you stand it, Lula?” Connie asks, twisting around to look at the other truck. “You too, Steph. How do you deal with the constant guard?”
Lula harrumphs. “I don’t like it but Tank says it’s a fact of life as long as Ranger is on this op. Once he comes back and people find out that he ain’t behind what they think he’s behind, then I won’t be under guard all the time.”
Except for a few more months while they decide if the threat has decreased. I wonder how much of a say we get in that.
“Steph?”
“It’s the price of a life with Ranger,” I reply. It’s a high price. Is my freedom a price I want to pay?
Security, like freedom, is an illusion.
Well, no one ever accused me of being overly fond of reality, Tank. Lie to me. Please, let me have my little lies.
Lula pulls into the florist shop but before we can get out, Candy asks, “Lula, what’s the budget for your wedding?”
“I don’t have one.”
We all gape. Lula shrugs. “Tank said price is no object. We’re only doing this once so we’re gonna do it big. I can get whatever I want, however much of it I want.”
“Ok . . .” I’m still stunned. My budget was $10,000 and we went over that.
“Now, my personal budget is $20,000. I read somewhere the average wedding comes in at $25,000, so I’m aiming at right under that. My bro-in-law is taking care of the DJ—”
“The music producer, right?” ML asks.
“Right. Thelma, my sis-in-law, knows a good photographer and Tank and I saw her pictures. They really were good. So we got that and the guy to make a video. And Mrs. Carol Jean is lining up caterers for us to try.”
“Wow. This is a real family thing, huh?” Connie says.
Lula laughs and unlocks the doors. The RangeMen are looking at us in concern. “Tank’s family is happy he’s getting married. Anything they can do to make that happen, they wanna do.”
We get out and walk in.
“Lula!” The owner walks forward and she and Lula hug.
“Hey! I brought my girlfriends. These ladies are my bridesmaids and we’re ready to talk flowers.”
“OK!” We sit and help Lula choose flowers. This is more fun than I expected. ML and Connie have lists of everything you need for a wedding and we look at all kinds of flowers.
“Lula, what’s the theme? Do you have a theme?”
“Nah. I just want it to be classy.”
Sally Sweet planning my sister’s wedding pops into my head and I laugh mentally. I catch Lula’s eye and we both crack up.
“What?” Connie asks, smiling.
“Sally Sweet,” Lula says. “Damn, I need to put him on the invite list.”
“How’s that coming?”
“Tank’s side is twice mine. He didn’t think it would be but aside from you guys and a few more people, who am I gonna invite? And since we’re having it in Louisiana, who’s gonna be able to come?”
I catch ML’s eye and shake my head and widen my eyes. I know she was going to ask about Lula’s family and I know that’s a touchy subject. ML and Connie both catch the hint and nod.
Candy has no clue. “What about your family?”
I groan mentally.
Lula’s face hardens. “We don’t speak.”
Candy nods, her face softening. “I understand. Believe me, I understand.”
Lula and Candy look at each other and smile. I remember that they have that in common and I’m thankful Candy’s here. She and Lula squeeze each other’s hands and smile.
-oOo-
We hit the road to Houston next.
“OK, so what’s in Houston?”
“Bridal shops. There are much better ones in Houston than San Antonio or Lafayette.”
It takes two hours to get there so once we arrive, we have lunch. We waddle into the bridal boutique, chattering and ready to find the right dress for Lula. The RMSA guys behind us groan.
“Lula! You know we love you, right?”
“Gonzo, I know you’re gonna march your ass in here, you’re gonna take a seat, and you’re gonna pay attention.”
He grins. “Yes, I’m gonna do all that, but can you promise me one thing?”
“What?” We’re ready to walk in. It’s hot out here.
“No parading around in panties. I don’t want to try to lie to Tank, ma’am. He knows everything. He can see into our souls.”
Lula starts laughing. “Gonzo, you’re a damn fool.” The guys laugh. “Fine. We’ll yell at you to close your eyes so you don’t have to see more than you’re supposed to.”
“Thanks!”
We spend the next two hours dress shopping and I have more fun than I expected. We haven’t done this in years.
First, we look for a wedding dress for Lula.
“Maria told me to look for a mermaid dress. We’re working on getting my stomach flat, but I want something that says ‘Curves’!”
ML and I look at each other. Mermaid? The boutique owner brings out multiple dresses in Lula’s size (we’re stunned by that) and she tries them on. Connie and Candy take pictures from all angles.
“Candy, send those to Tank.”
“Lula! He’s not supposed to see the dress.”
Lula shakes her head. “We’re sending pics of the rejects. Let’s fuck with his head a bit.”
I perk up. Candy starts sending the pictures to Tank and Tank responds with ‘Am I supposed to comment?’
“Tell him yes.”
We wait for the reply. ‘Uh huh. That’s nice (repeat for each dress).’
Lula laughs. She doesn’t like any of the dresses so we try on Lula’s bridesmaid dress selection.
“Lula, I thought Steph was very clear. No pink and no shiny satin.” Connie’s glaring at Lula from the three way mirror. She’s wearing a shiny satin halter top in pink. She look terrible, like she has a loaf of bread on her chest. I’m wearing the same dress, but while it stops below the knees on Connie, it’s mid-knee for me and I look blotchy. Horrible. ML also looks terrible in this dress. She looks flat chested.
“You picked the one dress everyone looks terrible in,” Candy says, laughing. She snaps a picture. Her phone pings as we’re trying on dress two. “‘Great bridesmaid dresses (repeat for each dress). The ladies look lovely.’,” Candy reads.
“You sent that pic?” Oh god, Ranger’s going to enjoy laughing at that.
“Yeah. Only that one, though. I’m not sending the rest.”
“Good,” Connie says, glaring at her. “Because I’m not opposed to dumping you on the highway between here and San Antonio.”
Candy grins. “I have an idea. Why not allow them to get different dresses as long as they each wear the same color?”
We look at each other and smile. No one dress is going to look good on all of us. It’s the perfect compromise. We look at Lula, who is frowning.
“Well, I kinda had a baby blue floor length empire waist dress picked out.”
“Well, I haven’t seen the dress,” Candy says, “but I would think they still won’t look good in it. A floor length dress will emphasize that Connie’s short and her breasts are huge.” Connie nods. “It’ll make Steph’s boobs look even smaller without a serious pushup.” Thanks, Candy. “And depending on the fabric, it may make ML’s butt look even bigger.”
“And I don’t need extra attention in that area,” ML mutters.
“If they all get the same color dress, in a different style, then they’ll all look fabulous at your wedding. Besides, matchy-matchy is boring and I know you aren’t boring, Lula. Your wedding will be the event of the year in Lafayette. Make it the standard.”
Lula looks at all of us and nods. “Yeah,” she says, nodding. “Bow down, bitches,” she murmurs.
We look at each other in confusion. Candy grins. “Beyonce. It’s a song.”
I think we still need that rap cheat sheet.
Ranger’s POV
We spent the day talking shit and driving around San Antonio. Tank wants to surprise Lula with a house as a wedding gift but they have different ideas about houses.
“This is a shoebox,” Bobby mutters.
Tank looks at me. I shake my head. I might err on the side of excess, but I need more than 1500 square feet.
“She doesn’t want a big house,” he mutters.
“Get a maid,” Les replies. “If she doesn’t want to clean, get a maid. You know you’ll want room for a meditation space slash dojo. Plus the cats will need room. And you need decent closet space.”
“She says I don’t have any clothes.”
“No man has any clothes compared to a woman,” Bobby says.
“Build,” Hec says. Tank looks at him. “Just build. Take your time, build what you need. You aren’t going to find it buying.”
We are done with the house search before noon. We hit a grocery store and go back to the hotel and chill. Tank’s phone beeps and his eyes widen.
“Fuck!”
We look over. I raise an eyebrow and he passes me the phone.
I wish I could unsee what I see. Lula’s in a halter wedding gown with a red ribbon at the waist. It opens from mid-thigh down. I can see the garter belt. Hideous. Les and Bobby take one look and back away. Hec looks and laughs.
“Gimme.” He types a quick message back and Tank lunges for the phone.
“What did you say?”
“Uh huh. That’s nice (repeat for each dress).”
We laugh. Tank groans. “She’ll walk down the aisle in that.”
“Idiot,” Hec replies, reaching for the popcorn. “You won’t see her dress until the wedding day. Anything she sends you from now until then is her fucking with your head.”
“True,” Les says. “Besides, doesn’t she have her heart set on a mermaid dress?”
Tank considers this and calms. “Yeah, she does.”
Then the bridesmaid pictures arrive. We stare.
“The beard burn is a nice touch,” Hec murmurs. Tank thumps the back of his head. Les and Bobby smirk.
“I knew ML was built like a brick house, but that’s a nice healthy ass back there,” Bobby says.
“Thought you preferred sistas,” Tank says.
“I do, but I like ass first and foremost. I admire Lenny for being a man with good sense.” He zooms in on the pic. “Lord, exactly how big are Connie’s breasts?”
“I’ve always estimated a 40DD. Maybe at 38DDD,” Les says. We stare at him. He shrugs. “Hey, I like boobs. So sue me.”
I like legs, Bobby likes ass, Les likes boobs, and Tank likes attitude (and ass). I glance at Hec.
Hec likes men.
None of us will ever fight over women.
Tank chuckles. “Steph looks the best and she still looks bad.”
I look. Tank’s right. The beard burn makes her look red and the dress doesn’t fit well. Woof.
Steph’s POV
We’re headed back to San Antonio. Thank god.
I sleep the entire trip. I’m exhausted but I hung in there. Lula pulls into the hotel and everyone else gets out. We’re meeting for dinner.
“I told everyone you aren’t coming to dinner,” Lula says, frowning at me.
“Thanks.”
She nods. “Steph, I’m not gonna ask ‘cuz you’re my best friend and I don’t want to put you in a place to have to lie to me.”
I frown at her. Huh?
Lula clenches her jaw then loosens it. “We all agreed not to say anything about the beard burn on your face.”
My face is red. My jaw drops.
“You let me walk around like this all day?” I flip the visor down and look. Oh god, I wish I was invisible.
“Hey, we assumed you knew! Maybe it was an allergic reaction to something. Maybe it was bad makeup. Maybe you forgot to put makeup on that part of your face. We just decided not to ask.”
I groan. “Lula, it’s not what you think.”
“You have no idea what I think.”
“You’re right, I don’t. What do you think?”
Lula turns to me with a half-smile on her face. “I think I know you love Batman. I think I know that you wouldn’t do no shady shit to him. I think Imma ignore the hickey I saw on the back of your leg. I think I know I’m not gonna ask where the beard burn or the hickey came from because I don’t want to put you in a place of having to lie to me. Agreed?”
I think I love Lula. “Agreed.”
A/N: I wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! LOL.
