Janet Evanovich Here With Me

**This story is based on the song "Loving Arms" by Kris Kristofferson and Rita Coolidge, which was passed along to me courtesy of ShellSueD. I mistakenly thought it was a happy song before I listened to it, but I did manage to turn it into a happy story. Everything familiar belongs to Janet. The mistakes are mine alone.**

It's hard to admit because it hasn't happened very often, but I fucked up. I've handled Stephanie wrong ever since she moved from just an associate to a friend ... and something far beyond that I hadn't wanted to name. Instead of dealing with it - and her - I ran. Mentally, physically, and emotionally. I told her to make nice with the cop again, and that's exactly what she did. And I've never wanted to beat the shit out of myself more than I do right now.

While I'm sitting in a dive bar in Philadelphia, Stephanie is probably lying in Morelli's arms, watching the sun set on a beach in the Caribbean. My fingers tightened around the neck of the Corona I've been nursing, and a similar clenching was happening along my midsection when I thought of him making love to the woman I think of as mine.

He can't love her the way she deserves, the way _I _have the times I've made it into her bed. How she gave herself to me, made it clear that it wasn't just sex we were having. I was uncomfortable with what I was feeling, and walked away before I had to acknowledge that I love her more than what could be considered 'friendly'.

I want her in a way that made my blood too hot, my skin too tight, and my dick too prominent. She was meant to be a fun night, and an amusing partner during the day, but somehow she's done something that no one else has managed ... she made me need her. And I've made it a point to _never _need anyone except myself. Now I love, want, and need her but can't have her.

If she could see me and hear my thoughts right now, she'd be laughing her sexy ass off, since this is a self-created condition I'm suffering from. I've told her many times that I'm not relationship material, couldn't - and probably wouldn't - stay in one place longer than I had to, and lacked the desire to share my life with anybody. I believed the words when I'd said them, but my recent actions told a different story.

When I heard at the station from Carl about Morelli's surprise for Steph, I immediately found out where they were going, what flight they were on, and what resort they'd be staying in. I could fly out after I'm done here and fix the mess I've made of things, but I still wasn't sure what I could offer her once we came back, _if _she came back with me at all.

I'm not a domestic man, and she _should _have someone who will be there for her every fucking day. I can promise that up to a point, but I'm required to be in the wind until I decide I've had enough of my former life, and want to start concentrating solely on the one I have now. Despite it being my fault, her being with Joe again didn't make me inclined to stick around. There's a chance they'll break up again - they always do - but if Steph ever made her mind up and agreed to marry him, I knew she'd go through with it.

Fuck. What if this 'getaway' is for exactly that purpose? He's never taken her anywhere except Pino's once a month, so why would he all of a sudden want to fly her out of the country unless he has something big planned? I hate myself more right now than I do Morelli, and there's only one way to correct that. I can't let whatever he has in store for her happen. I may not want a wife, but the only woman I've ever willingly considered can't become someone else's.

The thought of being this lonely indefinitely, and not being able to wrap Steph tightly in my arms whenever I wanted, is a worse hell than what I've lived through to make it back to Jersey every time I left. To this day, I can still feel the way her body spasmed around mine, hear the breathy little noises she'd made when I scraped my teeth over her pulse, and my own body tightened to the point of bursting when I recalled her mouth being wrapped around it, sucking me seven ways to heaven. I wanted to experience that every day for the duration of my life.

I've used work, the gym, and a lavish lifestyle, to fill the hole left by something I claimed I didn't even want ... and it isn't working anymore. Steph's become as vital to my survival as my Glock. I never leave without it tucked securely where I could quickly grab it, and I should've done the same with her. I could have told her that I love her, convinced her to move into my building so she'd be looked after when I couldn't do it personally, and then I wouldn't be sitting here, waiting on a skip I couldn't give less of a shit about, with regret eating a hole in me for hurting the person I care the most about.

I've lived _my _life too long in the shadows ... watching and protecting everyone while they enjoyed theirs. And I'm fucking tired of it. Just guarding Stephanie alone, I've stood in rain, snow, and hundred-degree weather, keeping her safe when she'd been threatened, but I know I could do a more thorough job close up. I also know that I can't sit back and let Morelli get the girl and the glory, when he's done _nothing _except be a continually destructive presence in her life.

Yeah ... Steph had the right to laugh at what was going through my mind. And I'd give her the opportunity to do so by sharing this with her once I get her the fuck away from Morelli. I'll call in a favor or two, head down to St. Lucia, and somehow leave the island with Stephanie without killing Morelli before she and I head back to the airport. I'm not opposed to eliminating him if I have to, though. A lone man disappearing while diving isn't an unheard of accident.

"You want another?" The bartender asked, forcing me to conclude the business at hand before I could force Stephanie's.

"No."

He shrugged and went back to wiping the rest of the glasses on the bar. I'd like something much stronger, but drinking never solved anything, and I couldn't forget I have a job to do here. Which is one thing I have no concerns about screwing up. And now I have a goal in mind, making sure Steph's arms are back around me by tomorrow night at the latest. She may care about Morelli, but she loves me in the same unhealthy, obsessive manner I love her. We may not be good for each other, but I don't give a fuck about that anymore.

One thing managed to work in my favor. Cleffkey entered the bar five minutes after I got myself booked on flight and had been given an ETA on it. I had the skip in cuffs and ankle chains seconds after escorting him out of the bar. The TPD wasn't even as busy as I was expecting when I crossed back into Jersey and entered the police station, which could explain why Eddie sought me out.

"How is she?" He asked me.

"Stephanie?"

"Yeah. I tried calling her, but she hasn't picked up."

"Maybe she's out of range."

"Unless her apartment building walked off its foundation, it's always in range."

"_Her apartment?_" I asked.

"Yes. According to the rumor circulating, she told Joe that she wasn't going on vacation with him and he flipped out ... then took off without her. I didn't think she'd be in the mood to talk, but I want to make sure she's okay, and I'm stuck here for two more hours. I thought you would've seen her."

"I was in Pennsylvania getting him," I said, moving my head towards the door Cleffkey was being dragged through.

"If you talk to her before I do, just tell her to call me. Okay?"

I nodded. There's no chance of me not talking to her tonight. I will be in seven minutes and twenty-three seconds if I move my ass. She wouldn't have gone on a trip with Joe with my trackers on her person or her belongings, so I couldn't even curse out the control room for not informing me that she hadn't left Trenton after all. But I will be speaking to them tomorrow about information this imperative not being checked out and reported.

There were no lights on in her apartment that I could see when I parked in her lot. And I didn't waste time by calling or knocking. I picked her locks and in seconds was scanning the interior of her place. Steph had been walking out of her bedroom, and she stopped dead in her tracks when she saw me. I flipped the kitchen light on, and took note of her puffy eyes, pale face, and also the shapely legs poking out from one of my Rangeman t-shirts.

She opened her mouth, probably to ask what the hell I was doing here, but there was something more pressing I had to do instead of answering that question. I took two steps, yanked on her wrist until her body was firmly pressing into mine, and crashed my mouth down on hers. It wasn't a gentle kiss, and I wasn't going to apologize for it.

I didn't stop kissing her until her mouth relaxed and finally clung to mine. We were both feeling the effects of it by the time I pulled back.

"Before you punch or shoot me for doing that, hear me out," I told her.

"I'm not agreeing to anything yet. You're an excellent kisser, but you suck at communicating."

"I've been an asshole and I want to say that I regret it, and that I'm sorry for it."

"You were only being honest ..."

"Partially. Truthfully, you scared the shit out of me and I didn't like it."

She snorted. "Little Stephanie from the Burg scared big, bad, mercenary Ranger? I thought you said you were being truthful?"

"I am. I like being in control of things ..."

Derisive snort number two was already out before I'd even finished my sentence.

"_You _... a control freak? _Now _we're getting closer to honesty."

"If you weren't so quick to interrupt me, we could get things ironed out between us faster."

"What _things _are you talking about?"

"I was stupid for telling you to make your relationship with Morelli work."

"Yeah, you were. And I was an idiot for actually trying to."

"I never wanted you and him together," I said to her. "And I never will."

"Finally, something all three of us can agree on. He and I don't want to see each other anymore. I don't want to be his kind of girlfriend. And he wasn't too happy about me telling him that, quickly followed up by refusing to go away with him. He's not likely to want to talk to me again, never mind attempt a reconciliation."

"Good. That's one problem solved."

"We do have _a lot _of issues ..."

"Not anymore. I love you and I want to be with you. It all comes down to that. Did you unpack yet?"

"I didn't pack any bags. I'd been putting it off, and putting it off, until I finally realized it was because I really didn't want to go."

"Go put one together now," I told her.

"Why?"

"I intended to go to St. Lucia and get you, but since you're here with me, we can switch out the destination and go wherever you want."

"Do we _have _to go anywhere?"

"Your bedroom would be far enough for me, but I want you to see that things are going to be different between us from tonight on."

"Because you're okay with going on vacations now?" She asked.

"Only if you'll agree to come with me. I've lived with you, and I've lived without you. It's clear which I prefer. I have no intention of losing you ..."

"You _pushed me away_, Ranger. You didn't _lose me_."

"I had a lapse in judgment. It won't happen again."

"It'd better not. I've gone through enough relationship analysis this week, and I'm not doing anymore. If we're going to see where this goes, we need to agree on a few ground rules first. Or, at least, _I _need some guidelines set."

My lips twitched. "Name them."

"If you have a job to do somewhere other than Trenton, I want to know as much about it as I can so I'll have an idea of when to expect you back," she said, her eyes holding mine.

"That's reasonable."

"You also have to promise to _be back_."

"You weren't aware of it," I said quietly, "but I've _always _come back to - and for - you."

"Well, this time around, you have to actually _tell me _important stuff like that."

"I just did."

"You know, I love you, but I really want to strangle you sometimes."

"Feeling's mutual on that one, Babe."

"So we're in agreement?"

"Unless you need it in writing."

"I don't," she assured me. "I just need you here when you can be, loving me when you probably don't want to ..."

"There isn't anything I'd rather do than love you right now," I said, lifting her off her feet. "And when I'm through, you won't question that again."

Once we were inside her bedroom, I removed her t-shirt and panties, but left my clothes on for the time being. Round one will be entirely about pleasuring her. That'd been my plan anyway.

"_Please_, Ranger," she whispered, before I'd really gotten started.

I've been noble in the past without it producing the best results, so I gave her what she wanted ... _me_. When she arched her back and curled her arms around my shoulders, holding me tightly to her, I made a promise to us both that I'd spend every night I could with her securely wrapped in mine.


End file.

Janet Evanovich, Drama, Romance