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Searching for Always(108)

By:Jennifer Probst


He didn’t answer. The door slammed behind him, and Arilyn sank into the chair, wondering if she’d pushed too hard. Wondering if she had lost him forever.


WHO THE HELL DID she think she was?

Rage pumped through his muscles. At first, the end of the anger counseling sessions caused a strange mix of confusion. Sure, he wanted it the hell over with, but he’d become used to seeing her every day.

He’d pulled back these past few days. Worked extra. Met the guys for a few rounds of billiards. What scared him the most?

He missed her. And Patrick. And that damn wicked witch neighbor he was beginning to like. He missed her cooking, and the general chaos, and the way she pulled him in tight at night, her body completely surrendering to every dark, dirty thing he wanted to do to her and with her.

He waited for her to whine, or complain about him not coming over. He readied himself to battle for his freedom and guys’ night out. But she never said a word. Just supported him in whatever decision he made, said she’d miss him, and let him go.

The woman frustrated the hell out of him.

But this? This was too much. Poking around in his head again under the guise of therapist. If she wanted to know about his past, all she had to do was ask. He’d never hidden anything from her, even the shit he preferred to keep locked up nice and tight.

Who else were you protecting?

A shiver bumped through him. Screw it. He was gonna meet the guys, have a few beers, and go home. He’d take an early shift in the morning and keep his head straight. Then maybe he’d call her to sort out what the hell they were doing.

Stone played pool. He looked for Patrick, who wasn’t there, and settled in with his coworkers. They bashed each other in good fun, drank, and had a decent time. He ignored the clawing emptiness in his gut and decided he was hungry. When they pushed a plate of fried shit over to him, he thought he heard her voice whispering in his ear to please eat something grilled, since it was a lot healthier.

He lost it.

“I gotta go.” He stood, said his good-byes, and headed out. The November air was chilly and brisk, but he zipped up his jacket and decided the walk would be good for him to clear his head. With each step closer to her house, the anger built. He hadn’t asked for a permanent relationship with a woman who’d drive him crazy. He liked to keep things simple, but she didn’t know what simple was. He needed to confront her tonight and remind her that their relationship was about sex. Just sex.

He also needed to give Pinky back.

Kate had returned. Robert was to go home, and that would leave Arilyn available to take Pinky. Hell, he’d warned her it was temporary anyway, and Pinky would do better there. Much better than carting her around to the station and in the squad car. Better than sneaking her hamburgers and allowing her to sleep in bed with him as if she were a person.

Better than him.

The light shone brightly on Arilyn’s front porch. He walked up the path, noting her top step needed repairing and the bungalow could use a fresh coat of paint. The screen in the window was still torn. He meant to replace it last week before the winter kicked in. Stone knocked on the door.

When she opened it, he lost his breath.

God, she was beautiful. She’d changed into a cotton nightgown with little pink roses on them. Old-fashioned. But delicate lace edged a low scoop neckline, emphasizing smooth white skin and a hint of cleavage. The fabric clung to her so he could clearly see the outline of her lithe body. Her hair was loose and wild, falling to her hips. Feet bare. Face scrubbed of makeup. She stared at him for a few moments. Then smiled.

Stone tightened his stomach muscles as if he had taken a hard punch to the gut. Had he ever met another woman who stopped his heart cold and filled him up with emotion? Just being around her made him damn happy. Her smile gave everything she was and asked for nothing in return.

The weight on his chest pressed harder, until he wasn’t able to pant, let alone breathe.

Arilyn reached out, took his hand, and pulled him inside.

“Did you have fun playing pool?”

He studied her in moody silence. His head felt like it was cracking open, and she was trying to be polite. “What the hell are we doing, Arilyn?”

She dropped his hand and took a step back. He cursed when he saw the hurt flash in those meadow-green eyes, but he was too far gone. “Don’t you know yet?” she said softly. “I do.”

He rubbed his scalp and began to pace. “Actually, I know what the plan was. Have great sex. Date. A few laughs. But lately it’s been more than that. I’m feeling pressure and I don’t know if this is working out.”

He waited for her thoughtful response and her need for a dialogue. Instead, she grabbed his arm, yanked at him, and got in his face.