AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"I hate traffic," Eli said. "Wasted hours trapped amidst stupid people who can't drive."
Both men nodded at each other, congratulating themselves on their accomplishment. On their sharing abilities. Stone was tired. Cranky. He wanted a smoke, a steak, a good night's sleep, and to stop being aroused by a woman who had no place in his life. He put his hands on his knees and leaned forward.
"I get pissed off when drunk assholes beat the hell out of their wives and children."
Eli and Luther jerked back in surprise.
"Guess I win. Is it lunchtime yet?"
He felt better already.
ARILYN REALIZED THE MOMENT he walked in the door she was in trouble.
He was as intimidating as she remembered. The man had to literally duck to get through the doorway when entering the small room they'd rented from the town. Dressed in worn jeans, a washed-out Yankees jersey, and a backward baseball cap, his casual attire did nothing to soften the raw sexual energy that radiated around him. He moved with purpose, each motion economical, his gaze pinned so tight and hot on hers, she fought an answering tremble. What was wrong with her? Sure, she had a weakness for authority figures, but she was attracted to the starving-artist type--long hair, graceful features, charming smile, lean body. She adored men who created, stared softly into space with a dreamy look in their eyes, caught up in their muses and the magic of the world. Gentle souls who needed support and unconditional love.
She wondered if Stone Petty had ever had a dreamy thought in his life.
He was way out of her league. All hard muscle and primitive male, those sulky lips curled up in a bit of a sneer when he reached her. With his midnight hair, thick and a bit unruly, charcoal eyes, and rough goatee, he looked like he'd jumped out of a Sons of Anarchy episode. He cocked a hip, meaty fists clenched by his side, and spoke in a gravelly voice that shimmered with command.
"So we meet again, Arilyn Meadows."
She hated the way her heart sped up a bit from the use of her name. He was the one mandated to attend these sessions, and already she sensed his mockery. Jerk. Did he believe he was above the other men here and her teaching methods? Wait till she got done with him. He would not only be a convert, but maybe after forcing him to get real with himself using her creative methods, he wouldn't wear that smirk so often.
Maybe.
"Yes. Welcome. I'd like to do an introduction with all three of you and then give you a summary of what to expect."
That lower lip kicked up a tiny bit. "I'm a nice Catholic boy. Not too keen on chanting to Buddha to channel my inner saint. Against the rules."
Ah, his sarcastic sense of humor was another element she remembered well. Arilyn rose to the occasion. "Funny, I thought nice Catholic boys were taught not to judge others and to turn the other cheek. No worries, Officer. You can always attend confession."
He moved an inch, but she already felt crowded. His massive body blocked out everything else. The light. The shadows. The air. "Maybe. But the first lesson they teach you is being truly sorry for your sins."
She arched a brow. "And are you?"
He had a crisscross scar on his brow. His jaw was a complete square, and his nose had definitely been broken. A few times. He smelled like everything primal. Sweat. Coffee. Earth. No wimpy over-the-counter scent for him. Just all the delicious musky fragrances combined to spell out M-A-N. "Sometimes." He dropped his voice. "Other sins no one should be sorry for. Those are the best kind. Don't you agree?"
Oh, Lord, he was flirting. Wasn't he? How dare he flirt with her? She was in charge. If he thought he'd charm her into letting him off easy, he was smoking more than cigarettes. She chilled her voice. "No," she said. "Much easier to avoid those types of sins completely."
Her skin tingled under his burning gaze. "Pity." He paused. "Maybe you just haven't encountered the right temptation."
Oh, yeah, he was flirting. Or just screwing with her mind--he was too damn smart for his own good. She snapped off her comment with one goal in mind. Total eradication of any future come-ons. "Been there. Done that." Arilyn made sure to rake his figure with a dismissive gaze. "Not tempted to do it again. Take a seat."
He didn't move for a moment, as if reminding her that he did things on his own terms. He finally obeyed, but his mocking grin told her he had allowed her to win this round. Another shiver shook her from the thought of him controlling all aspects of a relationship. Total nightmare.
Arilyn cleared her throat, dragging herself back to the present. The three men listened as she outlined the rough syllabus and goals for the full six weeks. She preferred to keep some of her field trips a surprise until the day of so no one worried or had too much time to weasel out of them. After Stone's last statement, Arilyn decided it was a good time to break for lunch and regroup in the afternoon. Her head throbbed slightly, reminding her that she had forgotten her herbal supplements and had eaten only a Greek yogurt with fruit this morning. Maybe she'd have time to stop for a veggie wrap before she headed home to let Lenny and Mike out. Since the breakup, she'd been extremely unorganized and felt like her head was stuffed with cotton. Time to refocus. The three men in the room deserved it. Kinnections deserved it. And the shelter needed her sharp, considering the current crisis going on with funding. This was the time when she truly wished she was rich and able to funnel tons of money to them so there were no worries.
She hurried out of the firehouse and down the sidewalk, then stopped short.
Officer Stone Petty stood under the bright green-and-yellow awning of Stella's Beauty Shop, transfixed on the object in his hands.
A crumpled pack of Marlboros.
The sudden spurt of rage surprised her. She may disapprove and try to help, but Arilyn understood the power of free choice and being ready to quit any vice. But for some reason, the sight of this powerful man slowly killing himself made her vision blur. Since her car was parked right by him, she forced herself to walk past, yank open the door, and mind her own business.
It didn't happen.
"Enjoying yourself, Officer?"
He turned his head. "Huh?"
She clenched her hand around the handle and shook with temper. "Enjoying your cigarettes?" she sneered. "Having fun destroying the body God gave you so you can wake up one day gasping for breath and talking through a tube?"
He raked his gaze over her in a lazy, assessing way that only made her madder. "This is the second time you threatened me with hospitals and tubes. I take it you don't agree with smoking?"
She fumed. How was he so calm when she wanted to jump across the street and throttle him? The image of her mother slowly dying of lung cancer still haunted her, but she managed to live with it. Watching her dad die after her of a broken heart, not caring that he left his only daughter alone, had been even harder. Mom had fought to live. Dad had fought to die.
Stone obviously cared about people, especially since he was a cop. Why couldn't he care about himself, too? Was that so hard to do? Arilyn swallowed back the words and managed a shrug. "I don't agree with waste," she said. "Or suicide. But it's your choice. Enjoy your smoke."
She turned her back, ready to get in her car, but his words sliced through the air.
"I quit."
She slowly cranked her head back around. "Yeah. That's why you're holding a pack."
He held up the package. "It's empty. I'm on the damn patch, but sometimes I go nuts for a craving and need to smell it." He let out an aggravated breath. "Stupid, I know, but it helps. I've been clean for a month now."
Relief cut through her, but she didn't dare analyze it. "Oh. Well, good for you. I know it's hard. Do you have someone you can call?"
His rough laugh made her tummy dip. He was so . . . virile. "Nah, no smoking sponsor for me. In fact, no one's pretty much given a damn if I quit or not. Until you."
Heat coursed through her, and it had nothing to do with the sun. She cleared her throat. "I care about everyone," she said. The prim tone made her want to wince, but she owned it.
"Aren't we all worth more than we think?"
Like a falcon sighting prey, he remained still and silent. Those inky eyes refused to release her. Yet. "Sure. If that's your party line."
The annoyance snapped back. "You don't believe everyone deserves not to be judged?"
"Nope. Criminals deserve shit."
"What if they committed a crime with a higher purpose?" she challenged. "There's plenty of gray areas. Not everything is black-and-white."
"I don't care what someone's lofty ambition is if they break the law. Or are you one of those touchy-feely types who believe the garbage on death row should be forgiven? Released back into society for a second chance?" The already familiar sneer touched his lips. "Easy to forgive when you're not the one who was affected by the crime, huh?"
"I think people make mistakes," she shot back. "Like you did. Now you're trying to correct your behavior."
Why did he set her off just by opening his mouth? He wasn't worth the energy of losing her temper. She'd just breathe, smile politely, and walk away.
"Yeah, you're right. I'm the real criminal here. Too bad the punishment sometimes doesn't fit the crime, huh? I mean, this anger management junk should be saved for serial killers."
Oh, she really, really didn't like this man.
