Standard disclaimer applies: Anything you recognize belongs to JE

Chapter 8

By one o'clock, I had finished all the searches in my inbox and had a good grasp of how the scheduling was done. Schedules were done a month at a time, and a month in advance. Some of the men were still active reservists, so we had to take that into account, as well as regular time-off requests, in making sure there was enough coverage. Contract workers could always be brought in to cover if need be, but that was a last resort. I was surprised at how much I enjoyed the challenge of making it all come together.

I stopped to grab a sandwich and a bottle of water on my way out. I briefly wished for a bag of chips, but that was never going to happen. Everyone knows a sandwich needs something crunchy to go with it, but carrots weren't ever going to take the place of Cheez Doodlz, even if they were both orange.

Connie and Lula were both in the bonds office when I arrived fifteen minutes later. I handed Connie my body receipt for Sampson and we spent a few minutes catching up. Connie had one new file for me, and I had finally gotten a line on one of the files I had picked up earlier. I asked Lula if she wanted to ride with me, since I really didn't want to go after this guy by myself.

Ernesto Estrella was charged with public intoxication, assault and destruction of private property. He had gone on a bender at the local dive bar and, when the bartender cut him off, Ernesto decided to make the bar self-serve. He managed to launch himself over the bar and landed in a heap on the floor beside the bartender. He grabbed the bat the bartender kept behind the bar and came up swinging. The first swing caught the bartender in the knee, and he went down hard. The second swing took out all the cheap liquor on the bottom shelf.

Ernesto was getting ready to take another swing when the other bar patrons realized he was destroying their chances at alcoholic bliss. They wrestled the bat away, but not before Ernesto managed to get in a few more swings.

The bond agreement listed his address as a rooming house on Stark Street. I had tried to contact him at the telephone number he had given, but that number was no longer in service. The reverse look-up for the rooming house address didn't show a telephone number either. I had finally been able to reach the woman who ran the rooming house, only to learn that Ernesto had moved on. The rooming house manager had heard he had moved in with a 'ho named Candace who lived a few blocks down on Stark but didn't know how much truth there was in the rumor.

Lula and I had picked up Candace not too long ago, and that was an area of Stark Street I was not comfortable going to alone. Candace lived on the third floor of a tenement style row house. Gang graffiti was spray painted along the sidewalk, stoops and alley walls. One ambitious young gangbanger had managed to add his tag as high as the second story window, but most of the paint was in the first six to eight feet of the wall.

We climbed the stairs to the third floor and took a moment to catch our breath on the third-floor landing. This was made especially challenging by the stench emanating from the apartment to our right. It smelled like someone was boiling old sneakers in a vat of gym sweat, but more likely it was some ethnic dish I was not familiar with. Fighting my gag reflex, I moved to Candace's door and knocked.

Even though I had met her before, I was still surprised at the woman who opened the door. The bond agreement had listed her age 20, but Candace could easily pass for someone twice her age. She had been living on the streets for many years, and drugs and hooking made you age quickly.

She recognized us as soon as the door opened and tried to slam it shut, but I already had my boot in place to hold the door open. "I didn't do nothin'," she protested.

"I'm not looking for you. I'm looking for Ernesto Estrella," I said. "I heard he was staying here."

"Ain't nobody here but me," she said. "And since you ain't lookin' for me, get your foot out of my door."

I ignored her request and asked, "Do you expect him soon?"

"I don't expect shit. Now get the fuck out of my face," she snarled. Life on the street had also made her tough, so when she gave me a shove I fell back against Lula, who had been standing behind me. With my foot out of the way, Candace slammed the door shut and we heard the bolt slide home.

"That didn't go so well," Lula observed. "Now what do you want to do?"

"Let's go downstairs. We'll wait in the car and keep watch in case he comes back," I said.

We headed down the stairs and made it to the second-floor landing where we met Ernesto coming up the stairs carrying a case of beer. I moved to the side to let him by. He glared at us suspiciously but continued up the stairs. Once I was between him and the exit I said, "Mr. Estrella? You missed your court date. I work for your bail bonds company and I'm here to take you down to get rescheduled."

Ernesto obviously knew the drill and knew if he went with me, he wouldn't get a chance to enjoy the case of beer he just carried up all those stairs. However, Lula and I were between Ernesto, his beer and freedom. Using the case of beer like a battering ram, Ernesto came flying back down the stairs at us. I dodged to the side and only got clipped by the side of the case. Lula was too big and beautiful to dodge, so she ducked. Ernesto and his case of beer went over the top of her crouching figure and, once again, ended up in a heap on the floor.

Several of the bottles had broken inside the box during the landing, causing cheap beer to leak from the cardboard and run over the floor. Lucky for us, Ernesto's shirt and jeans were soaking up most of the spill. Ernesto was stunned from the fall, but it didn't appear anything was broken. I cuffed him and carried the damaged case out onto the stoop. I figured it would be gone by the time I got Ernesto up off the floor and through the door.

I delivered Estrella to the Trenton PD and picked up my body receipt. We all smelled like a brewery and Carl Costanza threatened to give me a breathalyzer test before I left the precinct. I threatened to show his girlfriend a picture of him in his first communion finery and he let me go without another word. I stopped at the office to pick up my check from Connie and then decided to call it a day.

All I could think about was washing the smell of cheap beer off, so I turned my POS toward home and made a beeline for the shower. My bathroom was soon steamy and filled with the scent of my vanilla body wash and strawberry shampoo. The strawberry and vanilla scents reminded me that I hadn't picked up anything for dinner on my way home. Then I remembered there was actually food in my kitchen. All I had to do was figure out what to do with it.

I walked out of the bathroom wrapped only in a towel and almost screamed when I realized there was a man in my living room. Thankfully, I recognized that it was Ranger before I did.

"Jeez, make some noise or something," I complained.

"If you had heard me while you were in the shower it would have been worse. Besides, I wanted to see if you would walk out naked," he said, grinning wolfishly.

I hurried into my bedroom and pulled on a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt. I thought these pants made my butt look pretty good and I was trying to make up for the ratty old towel I had been wearing before.

"So, what are you doing here?" I asked as I came back into the living room.

"I heard you had a run in with Ernesto Estrella, a case of beer and a flight of stairs," he said.

"Yeah, the biggest casualty was the case of beer. All I could smell was stale beer by the time I got my check from Connie, so I headed home to take a shower," I explained.

Just then, my stomach chose to make itself heard. Ranger thought about smiling. "I take it you haven't eaten then?"

I shook my head. "I wasn't stopping anywhere smelling like I did. I figured I would just make something here. Grandma left food; I just have to figure out what to do with it."

"Would you like some help?" Ranger asked. "I'm not a gourmet chef, but I've been known to cook a meal or two in my life."

"Um, sure. Let's go see what our options are." I was reminded of the Chopped episodes we watched just a few nights ago. Only this time, I did have food in the pantry.

Ranger found a couple of chicken breasts in the freezer. He defrosted them in the microwave, pulled some spice jars down from the cupboard and seasoned both sides before placing them in a small baking dish and into the oven. I found vegetables in the bin and put together two tossed salads while Ranger opened a can of French style green beans.

When the chicken was done, we took our plates to the dining room table and ate like civilized people. After we finished, Ranger loaded our dishes in the dishwasher while I washed the baking dish and wiped down the counters. It all felt very comfortable, very right.

Ranger was relaxed, leaning back against the counter and taking in the kitchen. "Your grandmother settled in quickly," he observed.

I turned and leaned my back against the sink, taking another look around. "I've lived here for almost five years and have never made my apartment feel like a home. Grandma was here for 24 hours and managed to domesticate my kitchen."

"You can't domesticate a kitchen, Babe. It's not like it was a feral kitchen before," he said with a hint of a grin.

"Might as well have been. It was lucky if there was a jar of peanut butter with bits of olives in it. Now it has food and spices and a toaster oven," I pointed out.

"It wasn't totally feral. There was a cookie jar. Your kitchen was unpredictable, with just a touch of normalcy, until you looked inside the cookie jar and found a .38. Your kitchen never disappoints. I love that about your kitchen," he said, moving to stand in front of me. He reached up to thread his fingers into my hair. Why did I get the feeling he wasn't talking about my kitchen anymore?

Our eyes were locked, and I stood mesmerized as I watched him lower his mouth slowly toward mine. Our lips touched and my eyes fluttered closed. The kiss quickly moved from slow and sensual to blazing inferno. My hands found their way under his shirt and were skimming across his rock-hard stomach and around to his back to pull myself tighter against his body.

His hands remained tangled in my hair, touching only my head and letting me control where this went. And I knew exactly where I was headed. My hands made their way around to the front of his body and headed south to the button on his cargo pants. My fingers were clumsy, and my overheated brain wasn't capable of sending the instructions needed to undo his pants, so I gave up on the hardware and just started rubbing him through the fabric.

Ranger groaned and broke off the kiss. His eyes were dark with desire as he looked into my face. I gave him a small nod so he would know I was sure. With a growl, he lifted me, and I wrapped my arms and legs around him. I wasn't afraid he would drop me, I just wanted to be as close to him as I could get. Ranger carried me into the bedroom, our mouths battling the entire way. He finally broke the kiss when he pulled back long enough to tug his shirt over his head.

My t-shirt soon followed, and then my yoga pants disappeared. As I reached for the zipper on his pants, Ranger captured both my wrists and held them in one hand above my head. "Not yet, Babe. I want to enjoy my dessert first," he whispered in my ear. Ranger held my wrists as long as he could as he licked, nibbled and nipped his way down my body. After what seemed like an hour of exquisite torture, Ranger finally moved up and over me and gave me what I had begged for repeatedly.

Moving slowly at first, Ranger soon had me on the edge of the abyss once more. Sensing I was about to fall, his thrusts became harder and faster, and I felt his release just as my own crashed over me. As the aftershocks rolled over us, Ranger used his forearms to keep the bulk of his weight off me as he peppered my face with gentle kisses. Then he rolled over, taking me with him, nestled in his arms.

Sated for the moment, we lay in companionable silence allowing our heart rates to lower. Ranger's arm curled around me and my head found that spot on his chest where it fit perfectly. During our first night together, I had been astounded to learn that Ranger enjoyed post-coital cuddling. That's right, Batman was a snuggler.

My eyes were closed, enjoying the feel of Ranger absently rubbing by arm. My mind turned back to the last twenty-four hours. I had just broken up with Joe last night. Today, I was in bed with Ranger. I can say with complete honesty, I did not break up with Joe to be with Ranger. I broke up with Joe because I was using him as a safety net, an excuse not to risk my heart.

Last night I made the choice to be brave. To take a risk. Although I'm not sure getting Ranger into bed would be considered brave; still, I think I had surprised us both. My mind continued to race with thoughts of Ranger and what this might mean, especially given his remark to my grandmother about me being brave. Now I wanted to know if he thought I was a reward worth taking a risk for.

"I smell something burning, Babe," he said.

Here goes nothing, I thought. What's the worst that can happen? I mean, beyond complete humiliation and utter devastation.

Ranger's hand stilled as he waited for me to respond. I took a fortifying breath and said, "Grandma and Bernard had only been together for a few days when they decided to elope. She said there was no point in waiting, that they both knew they had found 'The One.' I've finally admitted to myself that I've found the person I think is my 'One', but I need to know something from you."

"What's that, Steph?" he asked quietly.

My finger started nervously tracing the ridges on his abdomen. Swallowing hard, I whispered "Is it just my kitchen you love?"

I could hear the grin in his voice as he responded, "No, I love your bedroom as well."

My nervousness lessened a little at his teasing. "Anything else?"

Ranger kissed the top of my head then tipped my head up to look at his face. "Yeah, Babe. I love you. I have for a very long time."

This brought a smile to my face. Okay, I thought, in for a penny, in for a pound. "Are you feeling brave?" I asked.

It was Ranger's turn to smile. "Babe are you going to propose?" he asked teasingly.

"Thinking about it," I teased back. Then, I had a thought. Looking him straight in the eye, I asked, "Would you say yes if I did?"

He paused, the smile slipping from his face as he tried to gauge how serious I was. "I'm thinking about it," he replied.

"Is the risk worth the reward, Carlos?" I asked softly.

Hearing me speak his given name brought the smile back to his face. "Yes, Babe, it is," he said. "And my answer would be yes, if you were brave enough to ask."

I smiled. "How do you feel about Vegas?"