Searching for Always

by Jennifer Probst

  All he needed was a trip to the grocery store.

  ARILYN FINISHED EATING HER bulgur salad with edamame, bought some doggy treats from the Barking Dog Bakery, and headed back to the firehouse. Now that she'd gotten some fresh air and protein, she was back in good spirits. Yes, the morning had started as a challenge, but at least it ended on a high note. Just having Stone admit he was trying to change some of his bad habits eased her stress. He'd spent most of the morning zoning out, rolling his eyes, and being generally surly.

  Usually she worked well with clients who hated the process and even ended up winning them over. She'd never been annoyed or lost her temper before. The only explanation was her crazy schedule paired with trying to heal from a broken relationship. Yes, the man was clueless, but it wasn't his fault. Her job was to enlighten him so that he could come away from the course with some tactics to make a better life.

  She couldn't lose her focus.

  Humming under her breath, she took a deep breath of the crisp fall air. She loved this time of year, with apple picking, pumpkin harvests, and the gorgeous golden light that bathed the earth. The river nestled between a wall of bright red and burnt orange climbing high to the massive mountains that made the Hudson Valley home. Verily was filled with the lunch crowd grabbing an espresso or wrap or strolling past the gift stores for a bit of window-shopping. Who could be unhappy on such a day?

  Her step lightened and she turned the corner. Then stopped cold.

  Stone Petty sat on the curb outside the firehouse. He held a Dr Pepper in one hand and a huge sandwich in the other. As he shoved the awful fried mess into his mouth, he barked into a cell phone propped between his ear and shoulder. Instead of backward, his hat now perched to the side like some sort of gangster. He alternated between bites and screaming.

  "I don't give a crap what the dickhead said! I clocked him going thirty miles over the speed limit and then the little shit called me names, practically challenging me to make that ticket stick. Who cares if he got a pretty-ass lawyer? I'm going to court, and I won't be changing it to a faulty headlight no matter who his father is. You got it? Good. Nah, I'll be there. Yeah, forced vacay is a bitch, you know? See ya, Sam."

  In horror, she watched as he gobbled the rest up, slurped some soda, and this time used a napkin to wipe his face. Her shadow fell over him. He looked up.

  "Oh, hey. I'm on time. Just finishing lunch."

  Arilyn blinked. A hazy red fog swarmed her vision. Breathe. She just needed to breathe. "I thought you wanted to change your fast-food habits?" she asked. Her voice sounded high and pitched. Definitely not normal.

  He squinted in the sunlight and unrolled himself from the curb. Stretching a bit, he studied her with those intense eyes that probed under her clothes and beyond. "I do," he said. "I got a fish fillet. Eating Nemo instead of Elsie the Cow's better, right?" He took a loud, obnoxious sip of soda. "Or do you have a problem with that, too?"

  And she knew right then and there he was screwing with her.

  He'd set her up for a fall. He thought her methods were stupid, and he wasn't about to try any of them. This was war in all its bloody forms. He'd fight her for every inch, every class, and try to drive her insane.

  Did she expect him to embrace her philosophy on the second day? No. But he was deliberately baiting her. He enjoyed pissing her off and making a mockery of everything she passionately believed in. He wasn't even going to be polite about it.

  The Arilyn she'd made herself into with all that work would've swallowed it. Bowed her head to his ignorance, prayed for his health, and moved on. She'd take his ribbing with a smile and a peaceful serenity because she was the better person.

  Well, forget that.

  No. She had one even better.

  Fuck that.

  He wanted her miserable for the remaining six weeks? Done.

  But she'd spend her last waking moments making sure he felt the same.

  He stepped back, cocked his head, and studied her as if he realized she'd come to an amazing lightbulb moment that would affect him. "You look funny. A little aggravated. Am I not able to eat what I want, or does this class limit my freedom of choice on that, too?"

  She almost laughed. Almost. Instead, she pasted on her false, cheerful smile. Arilyn would die before he figured out he knew how to push all of her buttons. "You can eat anything you like, Officer. I can only offer you other options. I can only remind you that after forty, your statistics for heart attack, cancer, and diabetes rise, especially with a diet high in fat, salt, and sugar. I'm sure it doesn't matter that soda can also be used to burn off corrosion in a car battery and is probably dooming you to ulcers and all sorts of interesting digestive problems." She winked. "But that's America for you. Land of the free, home of the brave, and all that. Enjoy the rest of your lunch, and I'll see you in a few minutes."

  "Hey. I'm not forty yet."

  She widened her eyes in a total innocent expression. "Oh. Gee, sorry. My bad."

  The uneasy expression on his face brightened her mood. Take that, Officer. She made her way inside, greeted her other two students, and began setting up for the afternoon session. Her cell pinged and she quickly answered, noting she had two minutes before the official start.

  "Hello?"

  "Arilyn? It's Anthony from Animals Alive shelter. How are you?"

  She smiled. As the director of Animals Alive, Anthony Pearson was the driving force behind the not-for-profit shelter, which rescued animals, spayed, neutered, and did behavioral therapy for problem animals. They struggled every month to pay the bills, and fostering the animals helped tremendously, since the shelter was always overcrowded. Many people were afraid to foster in case they got too attached and couldn't keep the animals, but Arilyn thought of the higher good and tried to take them in groups. The shelter volunteers were all friends and worked overtime to try to make up for the lack of funding.

  "Hi, Anthony. Checking up on Lenny and Mike?"

  He laughed. "All animals thrive with you, so I'm not worried. Still trying to place them in the right home. Do you mind keeping them a bit longer? I don't want to break them up."

  Usually puppies were separated to be adopted, but Mike and Lenny were an extreme case. They were so attached to each other that when Anthony had tried to separate them, both had gone a bit batty. Finding a family to take two puppies was a task. "No problem, you know I love them. If I can teach them not to eat all my shoes."

  "I'll buy you new ones. I have a quick favor if you have a minute."

  Arilyn glanced up and watched Stone walk in and take his usual seat. He gave a grudging nod to the other men. "Sure, I have two."

  "I got a call from a lady on Bluebird Avenue. Complaining about a dog being chained twenty-four/seven in the yard. She thinks he's starving and may be abused."

  "Did you call the ASPCA?"

  "Yeah. Told me I needed more evidence before they'd come out and investigate. The lady said she doesn't want to get involved because she suspects drug ties in the neighborhood."

  Arilyn sighed. "I wish we had more options with these cases. Who else could help? Police?"

  "Most people don't want to get entangled with animal problems. I suspect it's a pit bull, so it could be protection or maybe even an underground fighting network. Not sure. Already called the police; they can't do much either."

  She tamped down on the flash of temper and glared at Stone. Of course not. More things to do in Verily, such as speeding tickets to make more money for the town. She tried to imagine him risking time and effort on an animal case and couldn't. He was more for the hard-core cases.

  "What are our options?"

  "I wondered if you could take a quick drive out there. Look around. The house is on a dead-end road with a gate. If you see something that can be used as evidence, we may be able to send someone out."

  The idea took root and bloomed. Yes. She'd just figured out a task for Officer Petty to complete while in her anger management course. And it would help not only him but
also the shelter.

  "No problem. I'll check back with you after I make my run."

  His sigh of relief echoed through the phone. "Thanks. It's a load off my mind. I'm kind of slammed with the Fur Ball event going on, and we lost two volunteers last week when they moved away."

  "Hang in. I'll talk to you later."

  They hung up. Time to use a bit of force from the force to help save an animal.

  Arilyn threw her phone in her satchel and took a seat at the front.

  "Let's begin."

  HE NEVER SHOULD'VE EATEN the damn fish fillet.

  Stone lay on the mat with his feet straight out in front of him. The object, besides breathing of course, was to touch his toes with his hands. The two bastards beside him seemed to have little trouble with this task also. As his teacher from hell praised them for their "surrender" to their bodies, he did everything in his power, including praying to God, to just touch one end of his finger anywhere close to his ankles.

  Not gonna happen.

  Was that look of sympathy she shot him on purpose? Damned if it wasn't. Instead of support, she directed her words to him in her chilly, professional voice with no warmth: "Don't fight your body, Officer. Relax into the stretch and accept your limitations. Not everyone can touch their toes the first time."

  He could bench-press an elephant and run two miles without breaking a sweat. But his ridiculous hamstrings were bunched up like cords, and his back wanted to spasm in shock. That was it. He was hitting some kind of Pilates class and screw whoever thought he wasn't manly. This was humiliation in public. Stone glanced over to the other dudes and caught Eli's triumphant look. Then the bastard leaned even deeper, going past his stupid toes.

  Show-off.

  She chattered nonstop in that lilting musical voice and got him even more twisted up. Stuff about release and the body-mind and the root of disease lying in anger. Had he ever noticed her ass was spectacular? Sure, he knew she was in shape, but when she turned and the perfect, tight, heart-shaped rear was right in front of him, he got all kinds of distracted.

  He tried not to pant and curse, pretending to close his eyes and surrender. Instead, he peeked from under his lids and watched her float across the room.

  The fish fillet seemed like a good idea at the time. He only meant to confirm his choice of food and show her not everyone was so perfect. How happy could one possibly be eating wheat and fruit all day? Instead, she'd gotten that scary look on her face, all focused and tight, like she was about to make him pay. As if she actually cared he may die before he hit forty. And that smart-assed remark about his age? Priceless.

  Not very yogic. But a hell of a lot more intriguing than her usual. In fact, the way she put him solidly in his place the entire session kind of turned him on in a perverted way. At least she had a spine. A quite gorgeous one, he bet, from that tempting peek of unblemished white skin at the nape of her neck. She'd taken her long hair, twisted it up, and knotted it without even looking in a mirror. Like she didn't give a crap how she looked. Also obvious in the lack of makeup on her face.

  Imagine that. A woman who didn't spend hours on her appearance. It was like the yeti--an intriguing but never-before-seen legend.

  "Let's breathe in, hold, and release from the position. Excellent work, gentlemen."

  His body creaked and cried, but he made sure to look like it was easy. The glint of laughter in those grassy-green eyes called him an outright liar.

  "Later this week we'll break from group, and I'll be meeting with everyone on an individual basis. Have a good night."

  He pretended to be all Zenlike so he'd get a few extra moments to get himself up. Trying not to hobble, he made a note to check out the gym calendar for Pilates or something, and headed for the door. Thank God. He was gonna shoot some damn pool and put his supplies to use to gain his revenge. Then he'd--

  "Officer? Are you forgetting our additional fifteen-minute session?"

  He wanted to close his eyes and groan. Instead, he turned and pasted a confident grin on his face. "Nope, been looking forward to it all day."

  "I'm sure you have. Would you like a quick break to smell a cigarette pack? Drink a Coke? Gobble down some chips?"

  He chuckled. "No, thanks. But I understand if you're in a bad mood. Did you hear too much fiber backs you up?" He shook his head. "Quite uncomfortable, I bet. Me? I don't have problems like that."

  She jerked back and pressed her uncolored, lush pink lips together. Her nose crinkled as if she smelled something bad. "Good for you. Of course, the other issues must be difficult to deal with."

  He cocked his head. "What issues?"

  "Impotence. One of the major causes is a high-sugar and high-fat diet. Better think before that next Twinkie, Officer."

  For God's sake, the little brat caused a hoot of laughter to escape. Damned if she didn't know how to word rumble with the best of them. "Never been a problem before," he drawled. Took a step closer. The clean smell of peaches and soap hit his nostrils. The sheer purity of her scent turned him on. Who would've thought? "Wanna see?"

  "No, thanks. Let's get to work. Please take a spot on the mat."

  Ah, crap. No more mat work. Stone swaggered to the dreaded instrument of torture. "Haven't we done enough breath and pretzel work for the day?" he muttered under his breath.

  "Agreed. I thought we'd go over another important element we deal with. Frustration. Failure. How the mind can slip and judge us, affecting our anger and how we express it."

  She looked way too satisfied, so he knew something bad was coming his way. He could do anything for fifteen minutes. Right? He was a cop, for God's sake, and been put through both physical and mental torture in order to succeed at the academy and his job. "Sounds like a real party," he offered. "So, tell me the big secret."

  "No secret. Just practice. We'll begin simply with some balancing asanas."

  "Ass what?"

  She moved to the front of the room. Her face smoothed out and reflected a calmness he only wanted to shake up. "Asanas. Postures to help open different parts of the body. Balancing techniques are important to learn and explore on the mat."

  Yeah. This was going to be bad. "You mean standing on one foot will help anger?"

  Arilyn smiled like a female Buddha. "Yes. Let's begin."

  Maybe five minutes needling her had already passed. Then he'd only have ten minutes left.

  "Our time will start from now."

  He really disliked her. A lot.

  "Taking in a breath, fix your gaze loosely on a spot on the floor. Lift your right leg and place the bottom of your foot against your inner calf. Once you can hold the position, remain breathing, and lift the leg higher. Watch me first."

  In one smooth, continuous motion, she lifted her hands like a ballerina, seemingly rising taller from the earth, her swanlike neck lengthening. Her foot pointed out, rose in the air, and pressed against the inner flesh of her thigh. She looked like a tree rising from the mist, strong in the trunk and graceful in the branches.

  "As you gaze at your spot, empty your mind and concentrate on the breath. Let your body lead. You're solid in the legs, unbreakable as the root of a tree. Bendable and open to the wind with your hands and upper body. Now go ahead and try when you're ready."

  Stone studied the gorgeous curves of her breasts, her nipples pressing against her tank top, her face open and reflective. He had a quick image of him pinning her to the bed while she welcomed him deep inside, but it freaked him out, so he quickly pushed the image away. Whoa. Who would've thought he'd get turned on by a tree pose?

  Shaking his head, Stone mimicked her movements, thinking this wasn't as bad as he thought.

  He fell over.

  She remained in position, neither swaying nor moving. "If you fall out of a position, recenter yourself and begin again."

  Okay, no problem. He got this now. He took a breath, resettled, and did it again.

  Then fell over.

  A dark cloud of irritation swept over him. This
was so stupid, but simple enough he refused to be beaten. He boxed in the gym, and his trainer told him his balance was spot-on. He'd get this.

  Over and over, he tumbled out of position, his crankiness growing by leaps and bounds. When she instructed him to start on the other foot, he found the same problem. The minutes ticked by in growing horror, and Stone finally came to the realization she'd beaten him. He couldn't stand on one fucking foot for more than a second.

  He sucked.

  Unfolding from her tree stance, she offered him one of those sympathetic smiles that burned in his gut. "Do you feel angry?" she asked, gaze probing his.

  Stone clenched his fist. "For being stuck imitating a damn tree when I could be at work catching real criminals? Nah, I'm good. I'm peachy."

  Her smile widened. "Good. Let's move on to the next asana."

  His mouth dropped open. "It's been way over fifteen minutes."

  "No, that was five. And let's begin."

  The torture was long and deep and mean. By the time she finally called an end to the session, Stone decided to go to the pool hall and start a fight. Yeah, a nasty, testosterone-ridden, stupid fight with fists and blood and that wonderful feeling of release afterward. So much better than this. Completely manly and dudelike.

  "How are you feeling now, Officer?"

  And then he kinda exploded.

  "We're alone now. My name is Stone. I'd like you to say my real name once instead of jerking me around for fun. Here, I'll even start the conversation. Did you enjoy our session today, Arilyn? Are you finally satisfied with my conduct in your anger management class, Arilyn? Will you sleep better tonight knowing you won this round, Arilyn?"

  An odd expression skittered over her face. Those green eyes darkened, as if his saying her name aloud affected her on some level. He panted for breath, challenging her with his direct stare, and that crackle of electricity went berserk between them. She caught the vibe, because her mouth did a little O and she took a tiny step back in complete denial.

  Sexual attraction. Well, damned if that wasn't a kick in the ass. She felt it just as strongly as he did.

  The question was what to do about it.

  Her tongue dragged over her lower lip in a complete nervous gesture. "Umm, sorry. Stone. You did well."