Eleven on Top (Stephanie Plum 11)

“I have a working relationship with Morelli. I think he's a good cop, and he thinks I'm a loose cannon. Since we both carry guns, I try not to do things that would upset the balance in an insulting way. I wanted to give you a chance to wake up, so we didn't sit at the curb in front of his house like a couple teenagers adjusting their clothes.” Ranger looked over at me. “You got the rest of your clothes from Ella, didn't you?”

Damn. “I forgot! I was working, and then I fell asleep. She's got my underwear.”

Ranger laughed out loud, and when he looked back at me he was smiling the

full-on Ranger smile. “I'm worrying about parking too long in front of Morelli's house, and I'm bringing his girlfriend home without her underwear. I'll have to put double security on the building tonight.” He put the Porsche in gear, drove half a block, and parked. Lights were on in the downstairs rooms. “Are you going to be okay?” he asked.

“Morelli's a reasonable person. He'll understand.” Plus he had a cast on his leg. He couldn't move fast. I'd head straight for the stairs, and I'd be changed before he could get to me.

Ranger locked eyes with me. “Just so you know, for future reference, I wouldn't understand. If you were living with me, and you came home without underwear, I'd go looking for the guy who had it. And it wouldn't be pretty when I found him.”

“Something to remember,” I said. And the truth is, Morelli wasn't so different from Ranger. And Morelli wasn't usually a reasonable person. Morelli was being uncharacteristically mellow. I wasn't sure why I was seeing the mellow, and I wasn't sure how long it would last. The main difference between Morelli and Ranger was that when Morelli got mad he got loud. And when Ranger got mad he got quiet. They were both equally scary. I jumped out of the Porsche and ran to the house. I let myself in, called to Morelli, and ran up the stairs and into the bedroom to get clothes. I smacked into Morelli en route to the bathroom. He dropped a crutch and put an arm out to steady me.

“What are you doing up here?” I asked.

“Going to bed? I live here, remember?”

“I thought you were downstairs.”

“You were wrong.” He looked over at me. “Where's your bra?”

“What?”

“I know your body better than I know my own. And I know when you're not wearing a bra.”

I slumped against the doorjamb. “It's in Ranger's dryer. You're not going to make a big deal about this, are you?”

“I don't know. I'm waiting to hear the whole story.”

“I helped Lula capture Willie Martin this morning, and I sort of got thrown into a table filled with food and people.”

“Costanza told me.”

“Yeah, he responded to the call from Fennick's. Anyway, my clothes and my shoes were a mess, and I had chicken soup in my hair, so I used Ranger's shower to get cleaned up. And I put clean clothes on, except Ella hadn't gotten me any underwear or shoes.” We both looked down at my feet. Black socks. No shoes.

“So here I am, and I don't have any underwear.”

“Was Ranger in the shower with you?”

“Nope. Just me.”

“And you were actually working tonight?” Yep.

"If I had anyone else for a girlfriend I'd be out the door with a gun in my hand, looking for Ranger - but your life is so insane I'm willing to believe anything.

Living with you is like being in one of the reality shows on television where people keep getting covered with bees and dropped off forty-story buildings into a vat of Vaseline."

“I admit it's been a little... hectic.”

“Hectic is getting three kids to soccer practice on time. Your life is... there are no words for your life.”

“That's what my mother says. Is this leading to something?”

“I don't know. I'm really tired right now. Let's talk about it tomorrow.”

I picked Morelli's crutch up for him, and he moved toward the little guest room.

“Where are you going?” I asked him.