Turbo Twenty-Three (Stephanie Plum #23)(68)

TWENTY-EIGHT


WE GOT A room, and we went to the Magic Kingdom.

“You owe me big,” Ranger said. “This is worth a lot more than one night of fun at the Contemporary Resort.”

“This is the happiest place on earth,” I said. “I heard it on television, so it has to be true.”

We were on Main Street with shops on either side of us.

“I need a T-shirt,” I said, going into a store. “I don’t have any clothes with me.”

“Babe, everything has the mouse on it.”

“Not true. There are Disney Princess T-shirts and Tinker Bell T-shirts. And I need some undies. Don’t you need undies?”

“I’ll go commando.”

“I think it might be illegal to go commando at Disney.” I pulled some boxers off a shelf. “Buzz Lightyear.”

“I don’t think so.”

“I could take you to infinity and beyond if you were wearing these briefs.”

“You’re going to take me there anyway.”

I got a hot flash. “I’m a little flustered,” I said.

“Maybe this is the happiest place on earth,” Ranger said. “I’m starting to feel happy.”

I bought Tinker Bell panties and a pink Tinker Bell T-shirt with glitter on it.

“We should go back to the hotel so you can put the panties on,” Ranger said.

“Not now.”

“When?”

“You have to wait for it.”

He wrapped an arm around me. “Tinker Bell brings out the best in you.”

I wasn’t sure if that was true, but the physical distance currently between me and my life in Jersey gave me a sense of freedom. Jersey seemed very far away, in more than just miles.

“Instead of going back to the hotel, I think we should have ice cream and go on rides.”

“Don’t even think about the tea cups,” Ranger said.

We watched the fireworks from Main Street and took the water taxi back to our hotel. Ranger called his control room to check on Bogart.

“He’s still here,” Ranger said to me. “I’ll get a text if either of them moves.”

I’ve spent some time in the bedroom with Ranger, but not lately. We have incompatible goals in life. It’s hard for me to have goals beyond the end of the week right now. Things like marriage and children dangle in front of me but I see them in the distance, as if I’m looking through Bernie’s cataract. Ranger has big long-term goals. Life everlasting and saving the world from evil. His short-term goal is to get me into his bed. I’m sure he has other short-term goals but this is the goal of the moment. It’s a decent goal but it puts me between a rock and a hard spot.

The Tinkerbell part of me was in a mental shouting match with the Wendy part of me. Tinkerbell was dying to sleep with Ranger and she was telling me to go for it. Wendy was saying it wouldn’t be the responsible, adult thing to do. And it certainly wouldn’t be a nice thing to do to Morelli.

Ranger was watching me from across the room. “Is there a problem?”

“It’s our goals. They’re different.”

“Not at the moment.”

“Long term. I’m drifting through life without direction. The only thing I see in my future is a hazy picture of marriage. You have a clear direction and marriage isn’t a part of it.”

“This is true.”

“So I need a man who shares my goal of getting married and starting a family.”

“Do you have someone in mind?”

“Morelli.”

Ranger smiled at that.

I narrowed my eyes. “What?”

“Babe, he’s been stringing you along since you were five years old. You’re no closer to marriage with him than you were in kindergarten.”

“We might be engaged to be engaged.”

“You’re not sure?”

“Of course I’m sure.” Sort of. “We just don’t talk about it a lot.”

In fact, we didn’t talk about it ever. He avoided dinner with my parents so he didn’t have to talk about it. The subject never came up between us. Not even during intimate moments. Plus, there was the billiard table. Initially I thought he was saving his money to buy me a ring, but he bought the table with the money. Face facts, Stephanie, when a man is thinking about marriage and starting a family he doesn’t replace his dining-room table with a billiard table. Besides, I don’t even like billiards.

“Sonovabitch!” I said.

Ranger gave me a slightly raised eyebrow. “You’ve had an epiphany?”

Ordinarily an unpleasant piece of news would send me to 7-Eleven to load up on Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups and pints of H?agen-Dazs. 7-Eleven wasn’t immediately available to me but I had Ranger. And Ranger was the mother of all delicious, self-indulgent treats. A peanut butter cup was chump change compared to the possibility of sinking my teeth into Ranger. Not that I would do any real damage, but the temptation was getting stronger by the minute. I mean, what the hell, I was at Disney. I was one step away from the magic kingdom. This wasn’t the time to hold back on what might turn out to be the happiest experience of the day. In the interest of mental health, I needed to do this.