Arilyn sighed and took out the casserole. Grabbing some plates, she began slicing pieces for each of them. "Maybe."
Kate laughed. "Wow, he really did get to you. Normally you'd tell us to mind our own business and you'd never involve yourself with just sex."
"She's opening up to new opportunities," Kennedy said. "Which is a perfect introduction to the real reason we're here."
Arilyn gave out the plates and forks, then dug in for a bite. "Now I'm nervous."
"Don't be. We just brought you an outfit to wear on Friday night."
Suspicion laced her voice. "I already have an outfit."
Kennedy shuddered. "I know. It's unacceptable. Boring. You're gorgeous and need to play up your assets. No yoga pants allowed."
"I'm not wearing leather or fur, and you can't make me."
"Fake leather," Kennedy pointed out. "And you need to show some leg. You never wear skirts."
Gen giggled. "She's right, A. If there's going to be exotic dancers, you need to expose some skin. You're gonna love what Ken picked out."
Arilyn groaned. "I am so not ready for this."
Kate sighed. "Neither am I."
Kennedy smiled. "This bachelorette party is gonna be epic."
They all shared a glance. "That's exactly what I'm afraid of," Arilyn said.
Then they all burst into laughter.
ten
HANDS REACHING HIGH, palms together, and sweep down to the ground. Touch the floor. Deep breath in and right foot back. Lift the heel if you can. Inhale and release left. Hold. Fully exhale aaaand push back to plank pose. Hold for a breath. Lower down, chin touches mat, push back to Downward Dog. Hold. Breathe. Lower back down aaaand right foot all the way to your palms. Walk it forward if you have to. Inhale and left foot steps in. Rise back up, full breath in and out. Beautiful. Let's do it again."
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
She was hot as sin and the spawn of the devil. An enchantress of death. Because if he had to do this fucking Salutation to the Moon or whatever the hell it was one more time, he was gonna die of a heart attack.
Dying of smoking was so much more pleasant.
He shot a sidelong glare at his prison mates. Luther embraced the punishment, pushing through the routine with a tiny smile on his face. Seemed he was reading up on yoga and meditation practices and was consistently adding educational side notes to Arilyn's lecture. She seemed to love it, too.
Eli was more manlike, but he liked to mess up to get her hands on him. At least, Arilyn didn't seem interested. Her touch was strictly impersonal, and her chats with him after class were brief. He knew, because he waited for her after class. Insisted on walking her to the car, citing her past broken windshield as the reason. Just in case she had a stalker who liked to vandalize. Maybe a previous anger management client.
She laughed it off, but Stone knew she liked their chats/fights. In those few moments together, they covered a lot of territory.
They didn't agree on much. Politics, hobbies, likes, and dislikes were a mess. She disliked TV and he lived for it. She read self-help, and he preferred horror novels. He hated dogs, and she helped them. He had a sweet tooth, and she preferred fruit for her fix. He was unorganized and loud. She was ruthlessly neat and soft-spoken.
A real mess.
He still wanted her in his bed, though. But if she kept up the physical torture, he might not make it.
Stone did another round, and she blessedly called to sit back on their mats. Trying not to huff and puff, he took in her glowing face, bright eyes, and blinding aura. At least, he thought it was an aura. He'd been daydreaming when she discussed anger as blurring a person's aura and fogging their vision, but it was as if a glow followed her, confirming her goodness. In her yoga pants, bare feet, and tiny tank, her muscles and lithe limbs made his mouth water. She was comfortable in her skin, which tempted him as a lover. How rare to meet a woman who seemingly had no body issues. Who wore no makeup, who used no trappings to hide. It was like she'd come to terms with what she had, her limitations and strengths, and accepted them with an open heart.
Ah, crap, now he was starting to think like her. He needed to get a grip.
"Grab some water and let's come into a circle."
He hated circle time. Trying not to mope, he took a long swig of water and sat on the godforsaken mat. Why, oh why did she hate real seating? What was this thing about being on the floor all the time? He'd learn better in a chair.
She shot him a mischievous grin when he carefully stretched out his legs and tried not to wince. "You okay, Stone?"
He shot her a warning glare. "Just peachy."
Minx. If she gave him the chance, he'd tire her in other ways.
"I'd like to do some sharing before we break for the day."
Oh, goody. His favorite. Sharing.
Eli and Luther sat cross-legged, ready to open themselves up and bleed in the name of healing. Stone tried not to gag.
"Have you been writing in the journals I gave out?" she asked. Back ramrod straight, ankles crossed on opposite knees, thumbs and index fingers touching in circles, she radiated everything beautiful about yoga and peace and harmony. But all he could think of was her beaded nipples against her tank, the heat between her thighs, and the way her hair wrapped around her body in a sensual cloak. He grunted and shifted his position, trying to get his erection down.
Luther nodded. "I write in the morning, as you suggested. I read this book once called The Artist's Way, and one of the tasks was to keep morning pages. By dumping out all our random thoughts and fears for the day, we're able to get out of our own way."
She beamed. "That's right, Luther. I'm so happy you're finding the book helpful. There's so much junk in our day-to-day routine, we block ourselves from connecting with our true center. When the mind is quiet, and we are sitting in our body, it's like being in church. Or that childhood place you loved so much. It's everything holy and good. Another reason I call the body a temple. Unfortunately, TV, phones, and computers slam us with so much information, we're overloaded. This is a way to clean ourselves out. Make sense?"
It did. Not that he was writing in a stupid journal. He had already gotten in trouble for the cartoon he'd sketched out. She'd gotten so mad he'd waited for her to throw him out. But she made a lot of sense. Even after the dreaded yoga routines, he felt more connected to himself and his aches and pains than before. Stone knew he used drinking, smoking, and harsh exercise to try to wipe out the junk. Hadn't worked half as well as this stuff.
Not that he was an advocate or anything. Still, he'd signed up for that Pilates class even though he was going to take a lot of crap from his coworkers.
"Eli? What do you think?"
The man shrugged. "It was okay. I get a lot of nightmares, so I started writing those down."
"Can you share one of them with us?"
Another shrug. "I'm trapped on a bridge with all this traffic, and the thing collapses. You know, just like in that Final Destination movie? I'm trying to get out of the car and run, but everyone's beeping and screaming, and then I wake up."
She wrinkled her nose. The freckles scattered across her nose were so damn cute, he wanted to kiss them. "That nightmare is directly related to your road rage issues. Did something happen to you before on the road? Something you may have forgotten?"
Eli frowned. "Don't think so. I mean, I was caught up in a bad traffic jam when one of my friends got in a motorcycle accident. Tried to get to the hospital but didn't make it in time. That pissed me off. Made me feel guilty."
Stone felt a twinge of sympathy. That sucked.
Arilyn widened her sea-green eyes. "I'm so sorry. Did you ever think that's your primary reason for slipping into anger on the road? You could be dredging up the nightmare of not making it to see your friend in time. That's a very difficult situation to process. Sometimes our emotions and bodies do it for us because the mind can't accept it yet."
Recognition flickered over his face, and his jaw tightened.
Raw emotion glimmered in his eyes. Ah, hell. Stone had a crazy urge to pat the guy on the shoulder and tell him it was gonna be okay.
"I never put it together," he said slowly. His hands pushed through his hair. "It makes sense now."
Arilyn spoke in a soothing voice. "I'd like to meet you after class, Eli. Talk a bit more. This is a big breakthrough for you."
Stone suddenly didn't feel sympathetic anymore.
Luther reached over and pounded Eli on the arm. "Really sorry, buddy."
Eli nodded and ducked his head.
Suddenly, Arilyn's gaze swung to him. Challenging. As if she'd thrown down the gauntlet and dared him to be more than he pretended. What did she want from him? He was as honest and open as anyone he knew. He certainly wasn't trying to hide anything.
The scene of the accident flashed before him. He pushed it right back out of his head.
"Stone? How about you? Have you used the journal yet for more than comics?"
He thought of the simple black composition notebook with his name printed neatly on the cover. Just like in school. All those blank lined pages ready for him to spill his thoughts onto.
He decided to keep to the truth. "Not yet."
"Nothing to share? Or not ready to open yourself up?"
He met her gaze head on and pushed right back. "No time."
"Understood. Have you had any realizations or thoughts regarding your anger issues this week? Anything we explored that interested you?"
Like what? Sitting with dogs? Breathing on the floor? Writing in a journal? Circle time?
The emotions deep inside stirred, then slowly settled. "Not really," he finally said.
He refused to deal with the flash of disappointment in her eyes. Who cares? This was a game of chess to get her into bed, not to leave pieces of himself behind.
"Very well. I'm going to ask each of you a question. I want you to respond from the gut. Don't think about it too hard or try to reach for the right answer. Just tell me the first thing that comes to mind."
Stone began to sweat. He wouldn't let her beat him.
"Eli. Give me a memory, any memory, that made you angry."
"What I just told you. Sitting in traffic, waiting to see my best friend. Hoping he wasn't going to die while I was stuck there with a bunch of assholes going to work or lunch or having fun."
"Excellent." She turned. "Luther. Again, give me one quick memory of when you were angry."
Luther didn't hesitate. "When I found out my dad was having an affair with some other woman. I went to the college to visit him, and he was in his office kissing someone else. I wanted to kill him."
"Very good. Stone? Same question. Give me your memory."
He paused.
Her voice caught him like a silken whip. "Now. Don't think. Just talk."
He opened his mouth and damned if something didn't come out. "When I walked into the bedroom and found my wife screwing my partner."
Eli whistled. "Bru-tal, man. Sorry."
Luther shook his head. "That may be worse than my dad."
Arilyn stared. Shock carved out the features of her face. "You were married?" she whispered.
He narrowed his eyes. "Yeah. I was married. Now I'm divorced."
Silence descended. Luther and Eli shared a glance and then looked uneasily at their teacher. Clearing her throat, she seemed to try to shake off some type of mental fog. "W-Well. That's excellent, Officer. Thanks for sharing."
Hmm. Back to "Officer" now, huh?
She rolled to her feet and forced a smile. "That's it for today, gentlemen. Eli, may I speak with you for a few minutes?"
"Sure."
Stone rolled up his mat, stacked it neatly in the corner, and checked his cell phone messages. He grabbed her elbow as she walked past him. "Arilyn?"
"Yes?"
Oh, yeah, she was mad about something. He felt like he'd stepped into Antarctica. "I'll wait for you outside?"
She shook him off as if he were an annoying bug. "No need. I'll be a while with Eli."
"I can wait."
"Not necessary. Have a good day."
She turned her back, smiled at Eli, and began chatting.
Stone cursed under his breath and stormed outside. Well, screw that. Screw her. He had finally given her what she wanted with her damn sharing, and now she was pissed at him? He couldn't help the divorce. Yes, he had baggage. Must be nice to have a perfect life. Must be nice to be Arilyn Meadows.
He ignored the strange bite of pain that hit his gut and swore not to think about her again. He was finally back at work and had a few hours to kill before his shift. He was done mooning over a woman who was all wrong for him. Fuming, he got in his car and drove.
He didn't realize until he looked up that he was at the shelter. Getting out of the car, he checked to make sure there were no strays running around. His nerves jangled, but he ignored the slight panic, making himself trudge into the main center. He scrawled his name on the volunteer list and headed toward the back. Trying not to wince at the noise, he strode past the barking dogs, nodding to another volunteer, and went inside Pinky's cage.
The dog sat almost in the same spot as the other day. A twinkle of interest lit her eyes, and her head cranked around a bit. Then she went back to gazing into space.
"You're a hard case," he commented, stretching out his legs and leaning against the gate. "I don't mind. I need some peace and quiet right now. I'm about done vomiting my feelings for everyone to judge. I mean, do you really want to talk about what happened to you? No. You dealt with it, and now you need to move on."
No response.
He sighed. "Listen, you gotta eat. If your body collapses, those assholes win. You survived for a reason, girl. Arilyn got you out, and if you die on her, she'll be heartbroken. I may be pissed at your rescuer, but I can't let you fall apart on my watch."
A tiny head movement.
"How's your food? You need to eat to get stronger. Looks like crap to me, but what do I know? Tomorrow I'll sneak you a hamburger. They'll never know. Bet that's a bunch of organic beans and rice. No wonder you don't eat it."
No response.
Stone didn't mind. His temper calmed, and he kept talking.
THE NEXT DAY, ARILYN kept things strictly business. She escorted her crew to the local soup kitchen so the men could serve food to the homeless and be reminded of gratitude. Arilyn learned that being happy with the simple things of your lot helped to manage anger. When she struggled with her mother's death and was ripped apart by rage, Poppy took her to the veterans hospital and showed her all the men and women who'd had their world ripped from them, too. Seeing the physical and emotional injuries and how they fought to not only survive but to live gave her some peace. It also gave her the strength she needed to begin sorting through her rage.
Screw you, Stone Petty. I won't tell my secrets either.
She couldn't stop thinking about yesterday. His confession stunned her. The proof she knew nothing about him and he'd never voluntarily share anything of himself confirmed how wrong he was for her. Of course, she hadn't dumped her own truth about what had happened with her ex. But a divorce? Couldn't he have given her a hint before, even in the counseling session? She was greedy to know all the details. How badly had he been hurt to find his wife cheating on him? They shared such an intimate, raw experience in two different worlds. Instead of feeling closer to him, he seemed miles away. His confession came out snide and cold, making her feel intrusive. She'd only wanted to help, but he was determined to keep his past and his emotions private. Refused to share.
They'd only shared a kiss. Well, two. Yes, they may have been earth-shattering to her, but it was another reminder that physical contact with Stone meant nothing. He'd never open himself up to more. Arilyn refused to acknowledge the sadness that accompanied the fact. She'd already known they wouldn't work. The fact that she was suddenly despondent over the truth annoyed her.
Stop thinking about him.
Her gaze swiveled in rebel
lion. He surprised her again. Seems the staff at the Verily Soup Station knew him well. After some manly thumps on the shoulder, high fives, and general caveman talk, Stone took up an apron without any instruction from her and got to it. Watching him engage with the crowds that lined up squeezed her heart in a very bad way.
He seemed like one of them. With his usual cap perched sideways like some gangster, his worn T-shirt stretched over his wide shoulders, and faded jeans clinging to his tight rear, he was completely mouthwatering. She noticed he towered over the other guys, his fingers gripping the large spoon with a masculine grace she usually didn't spot in such musclebound men. Legs braced apart, an easy grin on his face, he greeted them by name, talked sports, and never broke his stride. Luther and Eli kept looking at him with a faint twinge of admiration she'd never spotted before. The black sheep was getting some recognition. Too bad she wasn't happy.
Too bad she was so pissed off.
Arilyn kept her distance and concentrated on helping Luther and Eli, making sure there was plenty of space between them at the table. The three hours whizzed by, and she made sure to stay busy as she wrapped up the session, thanked the director of the kitchen, and transitioned out.
"Do I smell?"
Arilyn jerked around at the deep growl of voice from behind. His brows snapped in a ferocious frown. Arms crossed, hip cocked, he studied her with a mocking judgment that made her temper soar in familiar tempo. "Excuse me?"
He didn't seem to care that they were on a public street. Pedestrians hurried back and forth, heads ducked from the late fall wind. Cars rushed by, and low chattering filled the air with the steady stream of customers entering the soup kitchen. She took a few steps toward the edge of the building for breathing room. He ignored her request, stepping forward and blocking both the wind and her view with his big body. She shivered under his drilling gaze. "I asked if I smell bad. Because you've been avoiding me like the plague since Tuesday, and it's starting to piss me off."
She pressed her lips tightly together. "Maybe you're being paranoid. You're not my only client, Officer. I can't dedicate all my time to you. I'm sorry if you thought differently."
Arilyn tried to push past, but he refused to budge. "I'm not your damn client. And every time you use that snotty tone of voice to call me 'Officer,' I want to kiss you again until you shut up and apologize."
Searching for Always Page 15
