Searching for Always(71)
She waited for his excitement, but instead he laughed and took her in his arms for a hug. The smell of Old Spice and Irish Spring soap comforted her. “Sweetheart, don’t be silly. I don’t want to live with you. I actually like the center for what they offer. I’m just finding my way. Besides, you’d cramp my style.”
She sniffed against his shirt. “I love you. I want you to be happy.”
He patted her shoulder. “Life isn’t about constant happiness, you know. Sometimes it’s work, and you need to allow time to do its magic. I’ll be fine. I like being able to walk to your house, take care of the dogs, and be a part of your life. But I need to live on my own. Can I stay for dinner?”
“Of course. I’m cooking vegetable lasagna.”
“Sounds perfect. You have enough for three, right?”
“Yeah, I forgot to tell you I’m having—where are you going?”
He trudged toward the door. “Going to invite Joan over for dinner.”
“No! Absolutely not.”
Her grandfather clucked his tongue. “Why not? I had a great time last week. She’s alone too long in that house with her binoculars. She needs company.”
Arilyn shook her head. “She doesn’t have friends because she’s mean, Poppy! And it’s a telescope so she can spy on the whole block!”
Poppy laughed. “Smart woman. Now, don’t be rude. You’re usually the first one to say we need to open our house not to the easy ones but to the more difficult ones who need love. I like her. She’s got spunk.”
“Ugh. I never said that. Plus, there’s another reason.”
“What?”
“I’m having a date over for dinner,” she finally burst out.
“Really? That’s wonderful; no wonder you look so nice. I always said you should wear more makeup. Then it will be a celebration. We’ll get to know him a bit better. I’ll be right back.”
Her voice died out. She watched her grandfather disappear to invite the Wicked Witch of Verily into her house, where she’d probably sneak in a hatchet and cut down the Tree of Spite on her way home. The night was officially ruined. No hot sex. No slipping her panties off under the dinner table. No crazy orgasms.
She’d be lucky if Stone didn’t run for the hills now and sign off on the whole thing.
Arilyn reached into the refrigerator and uncorked a new bottle of wine.
She was going to need it.
THE DATE WAS NOT what he expected.
When she opened the door, his breath literally caught. She was gorgeous. Didn’t matter if she was in yoga pants, a short skirt, or nothing at all. The woman owned her body, and he loved how each motion held an undercurrent of deliberate grace. Like a dancer, she moved as if music were always playing.
He handed her the bottle of wine and the six-pack of beer, bent to kiss her, and stopped cold.
Seemed his date had become a threesome.
And not in a good way.
Mrs. Blackstone—was that her name?—stood a few feet behind Arilyn, glaring in her usual way. He’d met her only a handful of times, but she was a constant complainer and the cops usually ducked when she called. She’d been the one to catch the vandal in action over the summer, but she kind of scared him with her narrowed eyes peering behind thick frames and a harsh manner. What was she doing here?
Another older gentleman had his back to him. Probably her grandfather. Stone leaned over to whisper, “We have an audience?”
“I’m so sorry. My grandfather surprised me and invited the witch—er, Mrs. Blackfire to dinner. I couldn’t stop him.”
She looked worried, as if he’d be pissed. Actually, his sense of humor kicked in because it was kinda funny. Stone patted his pocket. “Guess I won’t be handing over these babies tonight.”
She flushed, but then a chuckle escaped her lips, and Stone couldn’t help it. He leaned down and kissed her again, right in front of her audience. He had a feeling Arilyn would always be picking up strays along the way and inviting them to dinner.
“Stone Petty?”
He jerked back at the familiar, booming voice. Lifted his head. “Patrick? What are you doing here?”
Patrick let out a laugh. “I’m Arilyn’s grandfather. You’re her date?”
Arilyn glanced back and forth. “You two know each other?”
Stone grinned and moved forward. “Are you kidding? We call him ‘the Hustler’ down at Ray’s Billiards. He’s always making our wallets lighter on the force. How the hell are you?”
“Good. Guess I’m bustin’ in on your date, huh? Hey, wait a minute.” His face scrunched up. “Are you the jerk cop in her class giving her trouble?”