Disclaimer: I use them for fun and not profit.

A/N: Recently Janet Evanovich changed publishers. When the Stephanie Plum room was packed and moved to the new publishing house, a lone chapter was found hiding behind the file cabinet. This lost chapter explains why so many fans thought the ending to Ten Big Ones was so abrupt. With no authority what so ever, the chapter is being published here. And almost certainly, the chapter was not penned by Ms. Evanovich herself. So, for the first time in print:

TEN BIG ONES

Chapter 17

Ranger's Bed

It had been two weeks since Sally Sweet ran over Junkman and half the Slayers with his yellow school bus. Two weeks of no one trying to kill me, of Morelli trying to keep me from moving out and two weeks of me trying to avoid Ranger.

Morelli was making relationship and quit-your-job noises. Ranger was keeping silent, giving me long intense stares every time we crossed paths. I was feeling the need for some 'alone time' and just when I thought I couldn't take another day at Morelli's, Valerie and Albert vacated my apartment. The decision to move back to my apartment had been made the minute Valerie told me they'd found a place of their own.

I'd recently been an uninvited guest of Ranger's, and it had affected me more than I was willing to admit. My entire image of Ranger had changed. He was still the badass bounty hunter who'd been my mentor and friend, but now, I knew he was more. He was a successful businessman with a designer apartment and more secrets than I could fathom. And he loved me, in his own way.

Discovering the other side of Ranger had complicated my un-relationship with him. I felt a little betrayed because I hadn't known about the penthouse apartment, the RangeMan building, or his band of merry men mercenaries. Connie had known about his building. Morelli had known. I was a little miffed I'd had to find out by following his GPS backwards.

Ranger was totally familiar with my life. He felt comfortable slipping in and out of my apartment, unannounced and uninvited. He loaned me cars, protected me from bad people, and poached kisses. He let me know by words and actions, he'd like to repeat our incredible lovemaking experience. And he let me know it would never go beyond the physical. I considered him one of my best friends. Well, if I'm totally honest, I considered him my best friend, but finding his apartment and what I thought of as his secret life, let me know the ease of familiarity didn't go both ways.

I don't know who made the decision, but I left the nightmarish scene on Stark Street accompanied by Morelli and went directly back to his house. My time at RangeMan was over as suddenly as it had begun. I was more shaken by my Junkman attack than I could admit and I wasn't ready to live alone. Turned out it was a good thing I didn't want to stay alone, because I was homeless.

Things went smoothly between Joe and me for the first week. I could tell by the mostly empty bottle of Maalox, he was still having issues with my job, but he didn't say anything. He was treating me with kindness, holding me at night and not pressing for an intimacy I was recently unwilling to give. He was patiently waiting for me to come to my senses and give up the job that was causing both of us to have nightmares. He knew I'd hidden from Junkman with the help of RangeMan, but he assumed I'd been at a RangeMan safe house. I hadn't told him the safe house turned out to be Ranger's apartment.

Even though Ranger had kept his private life from me, the seriousness of the situation with the Slayers overruled any objection he would have had to my invasion of his personal space. Ranger always took care of me and in my most recent situation, I'd done the right thing. As long as I'd been at RangeMan, I'd been safe.

And now two weeks later, I was standing in front of my apartment door holding Rex's cage. A Martha Stewart laundry basket overflowing with unfolded clean clothes sat on the floor. The key turned in the lock and the door swung inward with a push from my hip. I tightened my grip on Rex's cage and scooted the laundry basket across the threshold with my foot. I took a calming breath and went in to reclaim myself. No more live-in girlfriend, pseudo-homemaker; I was suddenly Stephanie again, and it felt good.

The place was pristine. Valerie had left it much cleaner than she'd found it. I sniffed appreciatively. The smell of citrus wafted lightly through the air. As I closed the door behind me, I heard a faint hiss. A moment's searching located a plug-in air freshener. That explained the citrus scent. I walked to the kitchen and returned Rex to his original homestead. My floor was polished to such a sheen I could see my steps reflected in the tile.

My eyes scanned the apartment to see little touches of Valerie's homemaking everywhere. My garage-sale-eclectic décor didn't look as sad as it had when I'd turned the apartment over to Val and Albert. There was a philodendron plant sitting on one end table and a jar candle sitting on another. My lumpy beige sofa had throw pillows in each corner, and the scarred dining room table was covered with a lace runner, anchored by a bouquet of fresh flowers. I liked the changes and I made an instant decision to leave the little additions I found.

I picked up the laundry basket and hauled it into my bedroom. More citrus scent was hissing softly out of another wall plug-in. I dropped the basket on my bed and began to sort, fold and put clothes away. Near the bottom I spied the black RangeMan t-shirt I'd turned into pajamas. I lifted it out carefully and slowly unwrapped the contraband hidden inside the soft folds of the shirt. It was a half-full green bottle of Bulgari shower gel. I unscrewed the lid and took a deep breath, then quickly retightened the cap and took my two ounces of essence of Ranger into my bathroom. I placed it deep in the back of my vanity where it would be saved for a special occasion.

The bathroom in my apartment was beyond help and, other than the spotlessness of the sink, tub and toilet, Val's presence wasn't seen. I walked back into the bedroom and took a good look around. I had a good bed and decent furniture, but they weren't being showcased to their best advantage. The comforter was a hand-me-down floral from my mother. It covered matching floral two-hundred thread count percale sheets that were soft from many washings, but not as soft as the ivory sheets I'd slept on at Ranger's.

I plopped down on the bed to think. Ranger's bed was king-sized. When I'd first walked into his bedroom, I noticed the bed was perfectly made. I let my mind wander, remembering my first look at the inner sanctum. There were four king pillows in shams, matching the ivory sheets trimmed with three narrow ribbons of dark brown piping. All looked like they'd been ironed. A lightweight down comforter encased in a matching dark brown duvet covered the bed. No spread. Blanket chest at the foot of the bed. Brass lamps with black shades on tables. Fabrics on chairs and curtains were earth tones. Very subdued and classy. And when I'd found the courage to slip between the sheets it was like floating on a seven-hundred-thread-count cloud.

I stood and looked around my room again, this time with a critical eye. I had a queen-sized bed, flanked by two nice night stands I'd gotten for a steal from Dougie Kruper. There was a green armchair in the corner of my bedroom, which frequently held my dirty laundry, and sometimes Ranger. It was crying out for a slipcover. It hit me like a bolt of lightning. I knew what had to be done. I picked up my phone to call Lula.

Before I could punch her number in, the phone rang. Joe. I sighed.

"Hi."

"Did I miss it?" he asked, his voice cool.

"Miss what?" I responded, trying to sound casual. I knew what he was getting at.

"The fight," he said. "I don't remember us fighting, but I came home to find Rex and the rest of your stuff missing. I thought things were going well."

"They are," I said, trying not to sound defensive. "Valerie and Albert moved out, so I came home."

"So Valerie and Albert staying at your place was the only reason you were at my place?"

"Yes," I said. "You know we do better when we're not living together."

"So we didn't break up?" he asked.

"No."

"Good, then I'll be over tonight."

"Not tonight," I said in a rush, before he could disconnect. "I'm still settling in. I have things to do, but tomorrow night would be good. I'll cook us something." I was trying to pacify him, but I had no idea what I'd be cooking.

"All right, Cupcake. Tomorrow, but I'll bring Pino's. I've got something planned for after dinner, and nothing against your cooking, but I want to be firing on all cylinders." He disconnected and I rolled my eyes. I was barely gone, and he was acting like he hadn't seen me in weeks.

The plan that had formed wouldn't be denied. I relegated my conversation with Joe to a corner of my mind to think about later. I grabbed my purse and left the apartment, knowing I'd find Lula at the bonds office.

When I pulled open the door to Plum Bail Bonds, I saw Connie and Lula standing next to Vinnie's closed door. Closer inspection showed they held water glasses to the door and had their ears pressed against the bottom of said glasses. "Stereophonic sound?" I questioned.

Connie turned toward me and put a finger to her lips making a quiet shushing sound. The office was so quiet I could hear the seconds tick off Connie's Seth Thomas desk clock. Suddenly, in a move so smooth it looked choreographed, Connie and Lula turned away from the door and sat their glasses down on the desk. Lula picked up a stack of folders and moved to the files. Connie plopped her butt in her chair and began typing rapidly, her nails clicking a percussive beat on her keyboard.

I stepped completely into the office letting the door slam behind me. My stomach churned and a tremor of unexplained anxiety shot through me as the door to Vinnie's office opened. Ranger stepped through the door and pinned Lula to the files with an intense stare. He raised one eyebrow, his expression menacing, and Lula dropped the files to the floor. Slowly, he turned his head toward Connie . She lifted her head to return his gaze, her fingers never faltering as her eyes met his. Connie had been raised around intimidating men, and she didn't flinch under Ranger's gaze.

Ranger turned his eyes toward me and with a barely perceptible nod of his head acknowledged my presence.

"Babe,"

Before I could respond Vinnie stepped out from behind Ranger. "Well," he said. "Look who decided to come back to work. Are you ready to start working again? I don't pay you to sit on your ass."

"You don't pay me at all," I snapped. "I work my ass off to keep you in business. And no, I'm not ready to work. I'll come in on Monday and be ready to go. I've got other things to take care of. I need to check on Sally. He's still under investigation for running over the Slayers, and I'm trying to get settled back in my apartment."

Lula toed the dropped files into a messy pile as she looked up at me. "You moved out from Morelli's? What was the fight about this time?"

"There was no fight. I only moved in with him so Val and Albert could get out of my parents' house. They found their own place, so it was time for me to move out of Joe's. I need to do some shopping. You want to go with me?"

"Sure," Lula said.

"Okay, but I have to check on Sally. I want to make sure he's not in trouble. Joe told me the investigation is ongoing, and I'm pretty sure it's against the rules to carry an Uzi on a school bus. I don't want him to pay a price for saving my life."

"You don't have nothin' to worry about," Lula said. "Ranger here, was just tellin' Vinnie that Sally is…" She stopped speaking as a water glass sailed by her ear and splintered against the wall behind her. Connie returned to her typing.

Ranger came over and tugged on an errant curl. "Sally is fine, Babe. He has the entire RangeMan legal team at his disposal. The official investigation will show the brakes on the school bus malfunctioned. He couldn't have stopped the bus any quicker. And the Uzi was registered in his name. All the paper work necessary for him to carry the weapon was legally filed. There is no price for saving your life." His eyes roamed my face and settled on my lips for a moment before he opened the door and walked out.

Three hours later Lula and I were struggling to get the pile of shopping bags out of the elevator and down the hall to my door.

"This is the strangest shopping trip I've ever been on with you," Lula said. "We didn't go near the shoe department. When did you become so interested in home décor?"

"When I stayed at RangeMan," I told her. "You wouldn't believe how nice the apartments Ranger provides for his men are. I figured if a RangeMan employee could live in the lap of luxury, so could I. I'm tired of living like a college student, or worse." I neglected to tell her the apartments on four were a mere shadow of what I'd found on seven.

"I hear you," Lula said nodding her head in agreement. "We're professional women with good careers. We deserve to live at a higher standard. I may go back and buy some of this shit for my place. I didn't know your credit card had that big a limit. You're gonna have to work real hard for Vinnie next week."

"Maybe," I said. "Joe told Sally he'd probably get the ten thousand dollar reward on Junkman, but I might be getting something out of the deal, too. Junkman was FTA on two separate charges in two states. There's a good chance I'm going to profit from his death as well. I was the only licensed BEA on the scene. It's still in the processing stage, but I may be able to pay for all this when my check comes…Don't share this with Vinnie. I don't want him to think I'm moonlighting. He'd have a fit!"

"Fuckin' A, he would," Lula said. "But you deserve it. My lips are sealed." I sighed. Every time in the past Lula had sealed her lips, the story leaked out around the edges. I was sure Connie would end up with a version of the story, but I knew they'd keep it from Vinnie. Lula left and I got down to business, unpackaging my purchases.

My seven-hundred-thread count sheets were edged in navy piping instead of the brown I'd seen in Ranger's apartment. My Burg upbringing made me tromp down to the laundry room in the basement and wash them before I could sleep on them. Even my Burg upbringing couldn't make me iron the sheets. I opened the dryer door and caught them on the last tumble. I had them on my bed before they'd cooled.

The pillows were mini-clouds of the plumpest, softest down. My bed wasn't as big as Ranger's so I only had room to line three across the top of my bed. The deep navy comforter floated over the soft sheets. My bed looked like still, deep water and I couldn't wait to dive in.

With the bed finished, I turned my attention to the armchair in the corner. I covered it with a stretchy slipcover in soft geometric shapes, all in shades of blue. I hung matching curtains at my window. The finishing touch was a pair of brushed-nickel candlestick lamps with navy shades, one on each nightstand.

I stood back and admired my handiwork. Not bad for an interior design virgin. I might have a knack for this sort of thing. With new found confidence, I pulled the armchair from the corner and moved it to a more central location along the wall. The room looked well-balanced and put together. It didn't scream professional designer, as Ranger's bedroom had, but I was pleased. My work was done.

I took a quick shower and pulled the RangeMan t-shirt on. I took one last look around my bedroom before I turned off the lights and slipped between my new sheets. In the darkness of the room it was easy to imagine I was nestled snugly into Ranger's bed. A sense of peace enveloped me. Not wanting to delve too deeply as to the importance of that feeling, I tried hard to lose my thoughts in sleep. I was exhausted. It had been a long, but productive, day and I should have been out the minute my head hit my new sumptuous pillow.

After an hour of tossing and turning, I knew something was wrong. The soft hiss of the citrus air freshener had me out of bed. I groped along the wall until I found the offensive plug-in and ripped it from the socket. Citrus was fine for the living room and kitchen, but it wasn't working in my new bedroom. I crawled back between the sheets smoothing them over my body. Once again I closed my eyes and waited for sleep to come.

The morning seemed to come all too fast. As I struggled to sit up in my new down-filled cocoon I had a moment's disappointment as I realized I was in my bed, not Ranger's. Now why is that, I wondered. I told myself it was because I'd been safe at RangeMan. My life was filled with crazies, and the one place I'd been untouchable was at Ranger's. Okay, maybe untouchable isn't the right word. There'd been plenty of touching going on and some of it hadn't felt so safe, but it was dangerous in a really good way.

I pulled the covers back, swung my legs to the floor and did a slow pirouette to look at my new room in the morning light. I frowned as I realized something was not quite right. The armchair was snuggled deep into the corner of the room. I'd moved it last night. At least, I thought I'd moved it, but I had been tired. Maybe I only moved it in my head. I walked to the chair and slid it to the center of the wall. Even with the chair repositioned, there was something off about the room. My eyes fell on the air freshener I'd tossed onto the floor last night and I knew what had to be done.

A quick trip to the bathroom provided me with the essential part of my new plan. I pulled a pair of sweats on under the RangeMan t-shirt and quickly stripped the sheets from the bed. Five minutes later I was watching my new sheets sink beneath the Bulgari scented foaming water in the washing machine. I hit the extra long wash cycle button and sat back to wait. When I had the sheets back on my bed the soft scent of Bulgari filled the room. I was looking forward to crawling back between the sheets that night.

I had an entire day to get through before I could seek comfort between my new sheets, and the hours passed slowly. It was true, there'd been no break up between Joe and me, but I found myself wondering what the evening would bring. I cared deeply about Joe, but ever since my time at RangeMan, I'd realized my feelings for Ranger weren't going to go away. And if I cared so deeply for Joe, why was I reluctant to reinitiate the sexual side of our relationship?

"Your place looks nice," Joe said as he walked into the foyer. The citrus air freshener was hissing like crazy in response to the Pino's bag Joe carried.

"Thanks," I responded, "but some of the credit goes to Valerie. She left this place in much better shape than she found it. It got me in the mood to make some improvements, though. I'll show you what I've done later. Right now, I'm starving. Let's eat." I took the bag into the kitchen and divided the contents onto two plates. My refrigerator held exactly two bottles of beer. I popped the tops on both bottles and did a poor imitation of a waitress as I juggled two plates and two bottles. Joe had the TV on, and we settled in to watch the game while we ate.

We ate in companionable silence. The game went to commercial and Joe picked up the plates and beer bottles and made his way to the kitchen.

"What's the redecorating project you've been talking about?" he asked. He picked up a throw pillow from the end of the sofa. "Is this it?"

"Nope," I said. "That was Valerie's idea. Come into the bedroom, I've got something to show you."

"You don't have to ask me twice," he said laughing. He picked me up and walked quickly across the room and into the bedroom.

"Put me down!" I said, kicking my legs. He did and immediately pulled me into an embrace.

"Joe, stop it," I said. "Look at my room." Reluctantly he let me slide from his grasp and turned to look at the room. His head swiveled as he took in the new drapes, slip cover and then his attention settled on my bed.

"What brought about this change?" he asked.

"I was just tired of living with hand-me-downs. I thought I deserved something nicer."

"I agree," he said, swinging me up unexpectedly and dropping me on my bed. He fell beside me and pulled me over on top of him. His hands molded my ass pulling me closer into him. His lips found mine. I didn't pull away. I was waiting for that wash of desire to overtake me. When I realized the passion wasn't coming, I began to think I'd made the right decision. It was time to tell Joe we were through.

Before I could pull away from him, he pulled away from me. "This bed smells funny," he said. He sniffed the air and then stiffened. "This bed smells like Ranger." He pushed me off him and stood, hands on hips glaring down at me.

"Tell me Ranger hasn't been in this bed."

I hesitated and used the time to pull myself up resting my weight on my elbows.

"You didn't answer," Joe said, his face tightening into grim planes. "I'll ask again. Tell me Ranger hasn't been in here."

Again I hesitated. I remembered the armchair I'd found nestled in the corner this morning. Was it Ranger? "Of course Ranger has been in my bedroom before," I said. "You know that. What you're smelling right now is shower gel. It's the same kind Ranger uses. I like it so I decided to use it too."

"How the hell do you know what type of shower gel Ranger uses?" Joe asked. He was standing still, his entire body radiating anger that for once wasn't shown in his face.

I crawled up from the soft bed to stand in front of him. "When I was hiding from Junkman I followed the GPS backwards and found the RangeMan building."

"What do you mean you found the building?" he asked, momentarily puzzled. "It's on Haywood."

"Well, I didn't know that," I replied. "I snuck in and stayed for several days in Ranger's apartment. Turns out that I'd been monitored, and all his men knew I was there. Ranger wasn't there. He was out of town on business."

"Did he come back before you left?" Joe asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes."

"Were you sleeping in Ranger's bed?"

"Yes."

"Alone?" I didn't answer.

"Dammit, Stephanie. Tell me Ranger has never been in this bed."

Again I didn't answer.

"So that's the way it is," Joe said. "I don't know which one of you to feel sorrier for. When you come to your senses, call me." He turned and walked from the room.

I followed him. As his hand turned the knob and pulled the door open, I called his name. He turned to look at me, his eyes squinty and his mouth a narrow line.

"Don't wait for my call, Joe." The door slammed hard as he exited the apartment. I stood quietly and listened to the hiss of the air freshener.

As I readied myself for bed, I cried. I cried for Joe's hurt, and I cried for the impossibility of what I longed for. I pulled the comforter back and let the scent of Bulgari wrap itself around me. I'd done everything I could. I recreated the look, the feel and the scent of Ranger's bed. There was still something missing. I slid between the sheets and let sleep take me.

I came awake suddenly. Moonlight spilled in the window. I picked up my phone and illuminated the screen to see the time. 3:17 a.m. Chills ran up my spine as I saw the armchair tucked neatly into the corner of the room. Reaching up I turned on one of my new bedside lamps. I pushed my hair out of my face and leaned my head back against the headboard. Had he been here? Someone had been here. I was sure I'd repositioned the chair. I did a slow visual search of the room and didn't see anything else out of the normal, until my eyes landed on a small black rectangle lying on the pillow beside me. It was a key ring containing two small black fobs and two keys, and I recognized it. It was Ranger's key fob.

My heart skipped a beat as I picked up the key ring. I knew one key was to his apartment, the other was to his truck. I jumped from bed and pulled on my discarded jeans. I looked down at the RangeMan shirt I was wearing. Not taking time to put on a bra I slipped my feet into black Nikes and left the laces dangling as I made my way to the door. I expected to find Ranger in his truck in my parking lot.

The truck was sitting under the lone parking lot light. It was uninhabited. I beeped the lock open and slipped into the driver's seat. Why had Ranger left his truck for me in the middle of the night? Why had he visited my room two nights in a row? Not stopping to think, I turned over the ignition and started out of my parking lot. I hadn't formulated a plan when the deep electronic male voice told me to turn right and continue for a quarter mile before turning left. Unthinkingly, I followed the GPS.

After the third command, I smiled. I was on my way to RangeMan. Ten minutes later I pulled into the garage. I pointed the key fob at the gate and the metal grid slid back. There was an empty space on the back wall between the Turbo and the Cayenne. Without hesitation, I pulled the truck into its home between Ranger's other personal vehicles. Sliding from the seat I looked around. The garage seemed deserted, but my recent time at Haywood assured me it wasn't. I found a security camera mounted high in the corner and pointing my way. I gave a little finger wave to the unknown merry man on overnight monitoring duty.

As the elevator was rising to the seventh floor, compliments of the magical key fob, my courage was sinking. What if he didn't mean for me to come? What if he was just dropping off the truck for me to use? Suck it up, Stephanie. He didn't drop off a key for you not to use it. I crossed the black and white tiled space and reached out to turn the knob. It was locked. A sense of déjà vu washed over me. I'd done the same thing just a few weeks ago when there was a contract on my life. I lifted the key fob and slid the second key into the lock and turned it till the locks tumbled. The door swung open and I stepped into the dimly lit foyer.

I stood still listening. The faint sound of water running started my heart beating in a wild staccato rhythm. The shower. He was in the shower. What if he wasn't alone? I moved through the apartment into his bedroom. There was no evidence of a woman. No clothes scattered on the floor. No cheap perfume scenting the air. Just the scent of Bulgari wafting softly from the bathroom. My eyes lingered on the bed. It was made. No evidence of anyone sleeping in it.

"Babe."

I swung around to see Ranger standing in the doorway to the bathroom. Water glistened on his shoulders. A white towel was wrapped low on his hips.

"Hi," I said. I stood waiting. I didn't know what to say. Ranger disappeared into his dressing room and came out a minute later. The towel had been replaced with black silk boxers.

"You found the keys," he said.

"Yes, why did you leave them?"

"I wanted you to have access to my apartment. When you left Stark Street that night, and went to Morelli's, you left the key fob."

"Who brought you home from my apartment tonight?" I asked. I was having trouble figuring out why he'd chosen tonight to leave the key.

"I ran."

"You ran home?" I asked, amazed at the thought.

"I've been having trouble sleeping lately. I don't require much sleep, but I need more than I've been getting. I was awake and I brought the truck and keys to you and then ran home. I thought it might wear me out."

I looked at him closely. He had dark circles under his eyes. He looked like a man who wasn't sleeping. "It's hard to imagine you can't sleep in this bed. It's wonderful," I said.

"It's a nice bed," he replied, "but lately it seems like something's not right. Maybe I need new pillows. I don't know what it is, but I just can't sleep."

I took a step toward him. "I love your bed. When I moved back into my apartment I tried to turn my bed into your bed."

"I noticed the change," Ranger said. He took a step closer to me.

"I bought sheets and a comforter like yours," I said. "I even washed the sheets in your shower gel. But something wasn't right." I took a step closer to him.

"Was it like something was missing, Stephanie?"

"It was exactly like that," I said, again stepping forward. We met near the end of the bed and his arms went around me. I stepped in even closer and tripped on my untied laces. We tumbled to the bed. He rolled on top of me and his lips found mine.

The kiss was long and slow and left us both breathless. I reached up to push his damp hair back from his face. My nose wrinkled as I detected a sweet non-Bulgari scent.

"I took it from your apartment last night," he said. My eyes widened as I realized I was smelling the scent of Dolce Vita.

My eyes filled with tears at the thought of Ranger missing me. He loved me in his own way, and I liked that way. His lips came back down on mine and I opened my mouth to accept his probing tongue. It was time for us to make our way together, and I knew we were both ready for the journey.

The End