Author's Note: I started this story a while ago, but a different muse took over, so I left it behind. I finished my other story, Just a Dream, and decided to return to Changing Seasons. In order to re-engage my muse, I decided to reread, edit, and in some cases, slightly modify the story. No need to reread if you already have because no major plot lines were changed, but I noticed inconsistencies. In addition, my wonderful beta Susan helped to tighten up the story. I have edited up to chapter 8 so far, and will replace all existing chapters with the new, improved chapters before I continue where I left off. Thank you for sticking with the story. Please read and review if you are new, and if not, and you think this is a better version, let me know as well! Happy Easter and Passover.

Prologue

"Cupcake, can I come up?" Joe asks tentatively. He had just taken me out for my birthday and is dropping me off at my apartment. We are in an 'off' stage of our on-again, off-again relationship. Joseph Anthony Morelli is a detective with Trenton PD Homicide Division. He's six feet of Italian hotness, with brown hair that is always in need of a haircut, beautiful brown eyes and one of the best asses in town. My name is Stephanie Michelle Plum; I am an ordinary 34-year-old woman of Hungarian and Italian descent. I have crazy, unruly brown curly hair, a 5'7" frame, fair skin and blue eyes.

"Sure, Joe, you can come up." I reply.

We get out of Joe's SUV and walk to my apartment hand in hand. I live in a three-story non-descript brick apartment building with six units on each floor. Most of my neighbors are old enough to be my grandparents, with the occasional newlywed couple. They don't stay living in the building long. Joe and I take the elevator up to the second floor and walk to my door. Joe has his keys out, unlocks my apartment then he checks it out to make sure there are no visitors inside. Despite having four locks, everyone, including children, can break into my apartment and they have. I'm the only one who can't get in without a key. Once Joe deems my apartment safe, he pulls me inside.

"How about we celebrate your birthday in the bedroom, Cupcake."

"I'd say that sounds like a wonderful idea." We kiss before running to my bedroom. Once there, Joe takes a moment to look down my shirt before putting his hands underneath the hem. He takes my shirt off and starts to play with my nipples through my bra with his fingers. We continue to kiss as I remove his shirt and run my nails up and down his back. Just as he's about to take off my bra, his cell phone goes off.

"Fuck. I have to answer; I'm on call." He pauses while picking up the phone. "Morelli here." "Okay, I'm ten minutes out." He hangs up and looks for where I threw his shirt. "I'm sorry, Cupcake, but I have to go in. Double homicide on Stark Street, two rival gang members. I won't be back tonight." He pulls me against his body and gives me a deep kiss. "Happy Birthday, Stephanie." He turns and walks out my apartment.

I sigh. I guess it's the shower massager and me tonight. I take a long, hot shower. I get out of the shower, put on a sleep cami and shorts then crawl into bed.

"Babe, wake up." I feel kisses on my face and neck. I open my eyes. Ranger. We kiss, deep with lots of tongue. Ranger stops and pulls away. He runs his hand along my body, with only my thin cami covering me, and sighs. "Babe, if only I had more time. Listen, I must go in the wind. I don't know how long I'll be gone, but it will be at least six months, maybe longer. Please be careful. Let Tank know if you need to modify your schedule to accommodate Vinnie. I won't be able to contact you. However, don't think that I'm not thinking about you. There's a gift for you on the counter. Happy birthday, Babe."

"Thanks, Ranger." I sigh. "I'm going to miss you. Who else will tell me they're proud of me?"

"Tank will, and Lester, and Bobby, and Hector. All my men will tell you that. Now, I really must go. Tank's waiting to take me to the airport. I love you, Babe. Be safe." He says with another earth-shattering kiss before getting up and walking away. He pauses at the door and turns around to look at me slowly from my head to my toes and back up as if trying to commit me to memory. Then he turns, away as I hear him leave.

Before the door closes, I say. "Don't get shot."

He responds, "Babe."

Ranger is my best friend, sometimes lover, and boss. He owns RangeMan Security. I work for him as a researcher; sometimes I am part of his takedown team, usually doing distractions. His given name is Ricardo Carlos Manoso. He is 5'11" of Cuban sex god. He has the perfect body, without an ounce of fat anywhere. In the bedroom, he is magic, while everywhere else he's amazing too. He's a badass bounty hunter and is my mentor. I became a bounty hunter four years ago after I got laid off from EE Martin as a lingerie buyer. The economy was bad, and after my car got repo-ed, I blackmailed my sick cousin Vinnie into hiring me. Connie, who works in the office, called in a favor to Ranger to have him train me. He did, and here we are today.

In the wind. It's a phrase I hate. I never know if I'll ever see Ranger again.