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Kate chimed in. "I agree. Give him some time to discover it on his own."
"So I shouldn't tell him I fell in love with him?"
"No!" they both said together.
"At least, not yet," Kate clarified. "Slade freaked out. Kennedy did the same. So did Wolfe when Gen finally confessed her love. We don't want you to go through the same thing. If you give him a bit more space, he'll figure out he's madly in love with you and you'll get your happy ever after."
"Probably," Kennedy said.
"Definitely," Kate said.
Arilyn sighed. Her friends were right. She'd gone from refusing to spend time with him, to liking, to passion, to love. How could the poor man keep up? The knowledge of her feelings ran deep and true. This was no transitional or recovery period. Stone Petty was the man she was meant for, and the last one on earth she'd ever look for.
Fate was a tricky bitch.
"Okay. We'll finish up the course, and I'll keep my revelation to myself. See how it goes. Thanks, guys."
"No problem. I'll be home soon, but keep me updated with texts," Kate said.
"I will. Love you."
The phone clicked off and Kate's image disappeared. Kennedy patted her shoulder. "I know this is hard, A. But just remember: men are limited. We need to work with them in order to catch them up to speed. Now, I want to hear all about the ice."
Arilyn laughed. Then told her.
ONE WEEK LATER, STONE wondered what was happening.
His life was usually easy. Mapped out. He worked every spare moment, slept, played pool, worked out, and went drinking with the guys. Sure, there were dates and some sleepovers in the middle, but mostly his freedom was key, and he relished the open road, even taking the bits of loneliness in stride.
Now, things had . . . changed.
He got into the habit of bringing Pinky to Arilyn's house after work. After the first sleepover night, Pinky stopped howling every time Robert got close. The second night, Arilyn put their food bowls and beds closer together, still keeping a safe distance but forcing Pinky to see Robert in her space. The third night, they ate side by side without communicating. Almost as if Robert knew Pinky was delicate and needed to move things on her own. Oh, they watched each other, and sometimes Robert looked over with pleading need and adoration, wanting to play with a friend, but he kept chill. Stone fell hard for the pit bull, with his smarts and gentle soul. He even learned how to hook up his scooter and helped Arilyn take care of him when Patrick couldn't get over there in the afternoon.
Arilyn and Stone's relationship had also changed. What began as annoyance and attraction and then melded into hot sex and passion had now morphed into more. Affection. Tenderness. Comfort. Stone didn't know when it had transitioned or at what moment he realized that he was enjoying having dinner, going to the movies, or hanging with her and the dogs just as much as being in bed.
Well, almost as much.
He never experienced such intense liking before. Sure, he enjoyed women and took them out on dates, but when he was alone, he never really missed them unless he had a hard-on. Never thought about them during the course of the day. Maybe because Arilyn was wrapped up with him in the anger management course, he'd gotten used to seeing her on a daily basis. That had to be it. Because the alternative was impossible. He didn't lose control of his boxed-up mess of emotional crap, because it never worked out. Being honest was the best he could give.
Though something had happened between them the night he tied her up. Rollicking passion, yes. Numerous orgasms, definitely. But a bond had been strengthened, a connection that had always simmered between them but now seemed fused together permanently. She made him ache all over, inside and out, and drove him to claim her in bed endlessly in the drive to get rid of the madness. So far, no good.
Maybe once anger management was over, things would calm.
He'd work an extra shift. Pick up a little OT, gain some distance, and remind himself about real life. It would be good for both of them.
Stone pulled up to her house and glanced at his companion. The sore spots had now fully healed. Her new pink collar glittered with fake bling, which embarrassed the hell out of him, but since it was a present from Arilyn and Pinky seemed to like it, he hadn't ripped it off. Yet. Hell, he'd almost bought a spiked leather collar at the pet store, but it reminded him too much of a BDSM relationship. So the pink stayed.
Her bat ears stood straight up with pale pink centers, and she panted with what he now knew was excitement. Her jaw jutted out with the excitement, exposing tiny sharp teeth. Those chocolate-brown eyes stared at him with sheer adoration, making him shake his head. "Come on, you little rat fink. Let's go see Robert." He scratched her head affectionately and pulled her into the crook of his arm.
He didn't knock. When he came for dinner, she left the door open, and already the scents and sounds of the small bungalow drifted from inside. He walked in.
Arilyn stood in the kitchen, surrounded by pots and pans. She wore a stained apron that encouraged him to KISS THE CHEF. Feet bare, hair twisted up, clad in yoga pants, she grabbed her glass of wine and sipped while the sounds of a singer belting out lyrics not in English filled the air. Robert lay near the edge of the kitchen, purple bunny squeaker tucked firmly between his paws, head lifted as he waited for scraps to drop. Mrs. Blackfire and Patrick sat at the pine table with crackers and what looked like hummus, arguing over old movies and who were the greatest actor and actress of all time.
"There's just no way you can't pick Bogie," Patrick stated. "He was a man's man and a great romantic lead. No one touched him."
Mrs. Blackfire snorted with disgust. "He mumbled and talked weird. Also not what you'd call handsome. Sorry, the real winner is Newman. Mr. Blue Eyes himself. He was a much better actor. Arilyn, do you have Ritz? These wheat things are a bit too crunchy."
"Sorry, Mrs. Blackfire, Poppy needs to watch his salt intake, along with getting more fiber. How about the rosemary and garlic toast bits I made?"
"Yes, they're better. Well, hello, Officer Stone. Were you called out to the bingo hall? Marilyn said there's a thief who's stealing the petty cash. Did you catch her?"
Stone nodded a greeting, clapped Patrick's shoulder, and eased into the kitchen. "Wasn't a theft, Mrs. Blackfire. Mr. Olsen is beginning to forget things, so he moved the cash and didn't tell anyone. We found it. Crisis averted."
"Oh. Well, I'd keep an eye on him. I always knew he looked suspicious. He's even wearing an eye patch now!"
"He had cataract surgery." He stopped in front of Arilyn. "Hi."
She smiled and his heart stuttered. Damn undependable organ. "Hi." He kissed her properly, his hands skating over her slim hips. "Need help?"
She laughed, rising up on her toes, and kissed him again. "Not your kind."
"Hey, I helped the last time."
"You thought the Brussels sprouts were broccoli."
"They look the same."
"Trust me, you're a better help out there. Keep an eye on Poppy and make sure he's not sneaking slugs of beer. I cut him off."
"Mmm. 'Kay." They stared at each other for a few moments. Funny, he'd never experienced that sensation of having the world melt away, but he couldn't give a crap if a crime happened right in front of him. Stone seemed unable to move from the spell of those green eyes. Her delicious clean scent rose to his nostrils like heaven. "Whatcha making?"
"Pasta with creamy cauliflower sauce. I saw it on Thug Kitchen. I promise you'll like this one."
His lip twitched. It was a fifty-fifty shot. Some of her recipes he was actually getting used to. Other times she finally took pity on him and gave him something he recognized. Still, he left with his belly full, feeling pampered and cared for in a way he had never experienced.
Patrick spoke up. "With real sausage. She pr
omised."
He raised his brow. "Seriously?"
She shook her head but grinned. "Yes. I went to the organic butcher. I bend if you bend."
"Sweet." He opened the refrigerator, grabbed an IPA, and took a pull. Reaching into the right top cabinet, he took down four bowls and lined up the silverware. "Mrs. Blackfire, I saw your driveway is starting to crack. It'll never make the winter. Do you have someone you trust to do it?"
"The last company did a terrible job, but they won't come back to fix it. I called several times."
Stone frowned as he set the table. "Is it that place on the edge of town with the dirty red truck parked in front?"
"Yes! I can't get them to make good on the work, even though I paid for a guarantee."
"I'll take care of it. I know some people over there."
"Thank you." It came out soft and grudgingly, but Stone had been making great strides in cracking Mrs. Blackfire's hard shell. The more he got to know her, he realized it was all a farce. She had no one in her life, and because she was so abrasive, people didn't stay around long enough to get to know her. Arilyn set out the portions, with a vase of happy yellow flowers, and poured water in all the glasses. "Of course, you can really help if you convince your girlfriend to chop down that tree for the winter. When the snow piles up, it's going to fall."
Patrick shook his head. "Joan, I promise you, it won't fall."
"You don't know that, Patrick! It's leaning much more to the right!"
Stone spoke up. "How about I personally trim that bigger branch back?"
"Great idea," Patrick said. "A compromise."
Mrs. Blackfire glanced back and forth, then sighed. "Fine. I can compromise."
"Done. Hey, how about--"
"Stone." His name shot out in the room like a cannon ball. He turned to Arilyn, worried, and saw her staring at something behind the counter. Her face reflected a bit of shock mixed with something close to joy. "Come over here. Slowly."
He took a few steps toward her and followed her gaze.
Pinky was sprawled out on Robert's back, her small head resting on his, nestled in the soft spot between his ears. Her eyes were half-closed in ecstasy. Robert didn't move, his chin comfortably resting on the ground, a look of pleasure planted on his face, a half doggy grin widening his mouth.
