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She responded.
He slid her back down to the ground, letting her feel his rock-hard abs and thighs, ran his tongue over his bottom lip as if to taste her one last time, then gave a cocky grin. "Yep. That's what I thought. I'll keep this crime a secret for now, but you owe me big. See you in class."
Stone turned his back on her and walked toward the door.
Arilyn squeaked with outrage, shaking with the urge to belt him and wipe out his satisfaction. Finally, she found her voice. "I still don't like you one bit, Officer Petty!"
He glanced back over his shoulder and winked. "I still don't like you either."
Then he left.
Arilyn turned to look at the dog, who still hadn't moved. Just stared into space, looking at something else.
A premonition washed over her. If she allowed her body to weaken, she'd ask him to take her to bed. And he'd destroy her in ways even her ex hadn't touched. She couldn't risk her heart being broken a second time so soon.
She might never recover.
Arilyn knelt beside Pinky, gently stroking her head. She didn't respond. She'd clean the wounds, maybe feed her through a dropper to get some water in her system. Anthony would know the best plan to undertake. In the meantime, she'd keep her head down and get to goal.
The end of anger management and the end of seeing Stone Petty.
nine
A FEW DAYS LATER, Stone realized he should've just thrown her in jail.
It would've been a hell of a lot easier.
The motley crew of the anger management class gathered around the outdoor kennels at the Animals Alive shelter. At first, he'd looked forward to a field trip. Spending hours locked in a room with her, trying to do yoga or meditate or talk in the circle, was painful. For his mental state and his body. Besides a constant state of blue balls, they'd formed another type of connection.
They shared a secret. Stone knew there was a level of intimacy in sharing something no one knew about. Every time their gazes touched, energy shimmered between them, a reminder of the favor that hung ripe and beat through every undercurrent of conversation.
He figured a little air was good for the soul, and they'd visit some crazy ashram or help children or serve food to the homeless. But this he refused to do.
He hated dogs.
Stone tried to focus on her lecture.
"Animals are statistically proven to help lower stress and ease anger issues in humans," she said. Today she wore jeans, scuffed brown boots, a snug tank, and some sort of crochet cape thing in bright red. Her hair, caught in a high ponytail, was shimmering red-gold under the weak rays of sun. The leaves, which had fully turned in a stunning display of orange, amber, and yellow, crunched beneath their feet. Acres of woods spread out behind them, with a small building as the welcome center, horse stalls, and different types of gates holding various types of animals. "Now, I'm sure you're all wondering how volunteering our time with rescues can possibly help control anger management. First, serving the community helps us get out of our worlds and reminds us of what we do have. Though anger is a trigger and caused by a multitude of stresses, it is also part of ego. It's selfish. Getting in touch with less fortunate creatures, big and small, ground us in the reality of what we do have. If you're driving to work, get caught in horrific traffic, and start to lose it, reminding yourself of the dog who was abused with no home or the child struggling with cancer can actually help ground us in the bigger reality."
Luther and Eli looked fascinated. Stone grudgingly admitted she was a good speaker. Spending years around lies and bullshit and criminals made it harder to be empathetic or believe in something bigger. She did. The pure energy of her spirit practically rolled around her in waves. She drew people in with the urge just to be around her, listen to her speak, maybe touch her. She had a gift, and Stone bet she had no idea how she affected people.
"I'll be handing the training over to Anthony, our director. He's going to show you the procedures, and then we'll spend the next hour working with the animals on a one-to-one basis."
No way.
Stone studied the guy who stepped up and thanked her. He had those moony eyes Stone knew too well. The director had a crush on Arilyn big-time. As he took them through the greeting center and showed them how to put on a leash, how the dogs they walked or spent time with were coded, and how to follow the rules, Stone wondered how Arilyn felt about him. She'd told him in the car he was in the friend zone, but could that change? No. She kissed him like a woman who was starving and not actively dating or interested in another man. Stone was trying to be her transitional. But Anthony seemed to be a better fit for her lifestyle over the long term.
Stone brooded. They were similar. Both shared a passion for animals. He worked for charity. Good-looking guy, too. Looked Italian, so the guy probably knew how to cook. If she were smart, she'd date this guy and stay away from him. Stone couldn't promise her anything but the best night of her life. Oh, and hanging out with a workaholic, anger-ridden divorce who wanted no children.
Yeah, it was a real win-win.
His mood soured. He trotted behind Anthony, learned the rules, and then was handed back to his teacher. They both smiled so brightly at each other, Stone wondered if he'd be blinded for life. He got a fucking cavity looking at them. Weren't they just perfect together?
Anthony squeezed her hand, leaned down, and whispered in her ear. She laughed, swatted his arm playfully, and turned back to the group. "Okay, guys, we're going to focus on the dogs today. Listen to Anthony's instructions and go by the color-coded tags. Green is acceptable to take for a walk. Blue is no touch. Yellow is needs social interaction."
She led them to the long, narrow aisle of gates. The smell of earth, rotting leaves, and dog poop rose in the air. The whines and barks grew to a shrieking level as the dogs recognized company and tried to get noticed. He watched Luther and Eli choose their dogs, clipping on the leashes and leading crazy bundles of energy out the squeaky gate door. Luther seemed delighted with the large black Lab rushing toward freedom, and Eli had a small smile with the medium-sized mutt with the long snout.
Stone took in their lolling tongue, sharp eyes, and big snouts. Then he freaked.
Sweat broke out on his skin. A low panic clawed at his stomach. He took a few steps back.
"Stone, are you okay? Just pick one and clip on the leash."
He stared back at her, shaking his head hard. "I'm more of a cat person. I'll go to the cat house instead."
She frowned. "The cat house is being refurbished, so it's off-limits today."
"Then I'll hit the stables."
"Horse training is an entire day."
The image of the pit bull leaping at him, teeth bared, drawing blood while he screamed like a baby and writhed on the ground hit him full force. It was suddenly hard to breathe. He was getting the hell out. "Well, I'll help in the office or something. I'm not doing this. I told you I hate dogs and always have."
He beat a hasty retreat, but she was suddenly in front of him, placing her hands gently on his arm. "Stone? I'm so sorry, I didn't know."
He gritted his teeth. Wished for a cigarette so bad he figured the patch would explode off him. "Know what?"
"The dogs. Did you get bit?"
The horror of her knowing his one weakness made him snap. "I'm not afraid of the damn dogs, okay? I just don't like them. Is that a fucking crime?"
Instead
of yelling back or telling him to breathe, she smiled. Her voice lilted like soothing music, and her fingers interlaced with his. The touch of her skin against his grounded him back to earth. "No, it's not a crime," she said. "Neither is being skittish around an animal you don't know. It's called being smart." She gazed at the kennels, her eyes sad. "Many dogs, especially the pit bulls, are bred for meanness. It's almost like having something good but shaping it into evil. Some can't even be saved, they're too far gone in the darkness and fighting for survival. Others still manage to see the light and the goodness. See, they're just like people. Some good, some bad, some right in the middle."
She faced him again. "It's my fault for not checking with everyone about how they feel about animals. I'm sorry. And if you were bitten, that's a traumatic experience very difficult to get over. Dogs need to earn your trust back, just like we need to earn theirs sometimes."
He suddenly felt stupid being embarrassed over something that wasn't his fault. How did she do that? Make him see things in a different way? He cleared his throat. "Sorry. I was a kid and a pit bull knocked me down, bit the hell out of my leg. The owner just laughed and urged the dog on."
She nodded. "Yeah, I hear those stories a lot. Most dogs don't start off that way, but it's probably too late. We can't save them all. That's why I wanted to rescue Pinky so badly. I thought maybe there'd be a chance."
How often had he uttered condolences to a family member who lost someone? A weak excuse but all he had left to offer. The tightness in his chest eased. In her own way, Arilyn knew the battle he took on every day. So much loss, but you did it for the occasional win.
"Why'd you name that thing Pinky?"
She gave a half shrug. "Knew a Chihuahua with the name. She kicked butt and carried herself like royalty. Thought the poor thing could use a cool namesake."
"It's an awful name."
She grinned, and his heart lightened. Damn this woman and her ability to make him feel good as much as she pissed him off. It was terrible. "Next time you rescue an animal, you can name her," she said.
"Catching criminals is bad enough. I'll pass."
She pursed her lips, and her green eyes sparkled with laughter. His gaze focused on her lush mouth and what he wanted to do with it. She cleared her throat as if she knew. And wanted it, too. "How are you doing with the smoking?" She jerked her head toward his arm.
