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That went well,' I said to Rex. Yeesh. thirteen
It was ten o'clock at night, and I was bone tired. I'd been cold and wet all day. I had just had an embarrassing phone conversation with Morelli. And one cup of nonfat, unfruited, unsweetened, unchocolated yogurt wasn't doing it for me.
'Sometimes sacrifices need to be made,' I told Rex. 'Sometimes you have to sacrifice weight loss for the pleasure of eating a peanut butter sandwich on worthless white bread.'
I felt a lot better after I ate the peanut butter sandwich on the worthless white bread, so I passed on the milk with the 2 percent butterfat and drank a glass of Ranger's watery, tasteless skim. Am I righteous, or what?
I said good night to Rex, and I switched the light off in the kitchen. I was too tired and cold for television. And I was too grungy just to crawl under the covers. So I dragged myself to the shower.
I stood in the shower until I was pruney and toasty warm. I pulled on red bikini undies and dropped one of Ranger's black T-shirts over my head. I dried my hair, and I climbed into bed.
Heaven. Too bad the bed, the shirt, the whole comfy apartment wasn't actually mine. Too bad it belonged to a guy who could be a little scary. This brought me around to thinking about the lock on the front door. Did I throw the bolt when I came in?
I got out of bed, padded to the front door, and checked the locks. All locked. Not that it mattered with Ranger. He had a way with locks. Didn't matter if it was a deadbolt, a slide bolt, a chain.
Nothing stopped Ranger. Fortunately, Ranger wasn't due home.
And the average garden-variety thief, rapist, murderer, gang guy didn't have Ranger skills.
I slumped back to bed and closed my eyes. I was safe for at least a couple more days.
I struggled out of sleep thinking something was wrong. I was caught at the edge of a dream, and something was pulling me awake. It was the light, I thought. Dim but annoying. I'd fallen asleep and left a light burning somewhere in the apartment. Probably did it when I checked the locks. Probably I should get up and turn the light off.
I was on my stomach with my face smushed into the pillow. I squinted at the bedside clock. Two o'clock. I didn't want to get out of bed. To quote Grandma Mazur, I was snug as a bug in a rug. I closed my eyes. The hell with the light.
I was trying hard to ignore the light when I heard the faint rustle of clothing from the far side of the room. If I was a man this would have been the point where my gonads ran for cover and hid inside my body. Since I didn't have any gonads, I kept my eyes closed and hoped death came quickly.
After about twenty seconds of this I got impatient with waiting for death. I opened my eyes and rolled onto my back.
Ranger was leaning one shoulder against the doorjamb, his arms loosely crossed over his chest. He was dressed in his usual working outfit of blac
k T-shirt and black cargo pants.
'I'm trying to decide if I should throw you out the window, or if
I should get in next to you,' Ranger said, not looking especially surprised or angry.
'Are there any other options?' I asked him.
'What are you doing here?'
1 needed a safe place to stay.'
His mouth curved at the corners. Not quite a smile but definite amusement. 'And you think this is safe?'
'It was until you came home.'
The brown eyes were unwavering, fixed on me. 'What scares you more... getting thrown out the window or sleeping with me?'
I sat up in bed, pulling the covers up with me. 'Don't flatter yourself. You're not that scary.' Liar, liar, pants on fire!
The almost-smile stayed in place. 'I saw the gun and the flak vest when I came in.'
I told him about the death threat from Junkman.
'You should have asked Tank for help,' Ranger said.
'I don't always feel comfortable with Tank.'
