Searching for Always (Searching For 4)

HOW'S ANGER MANAGEMENT?"

Stone shot his partner and friend a withering look. Taking a long pull of beer, he chalked up his cue stick to buy some time for his next shot. After stalking the station for the past few nights because he had nothing better to do, Chief Dick was pulling him off suspension in two more days. Sure, he might get stuck with the night shift, but it was better than nothing.

"Sucks."

"Is your teacher hot?"

His fingers jerked around the stick. Yes. Unfortunately, Arilyn Meadows was too hot for his taste, and he couldn't afford to get burned any longer. Their conversation at Kinnections had been . . . disturbing. He'd ached to walk over and kiss her, soothe away the sting of pain in her eyes and replace it with want. Dirty, lewd sex was okay.

Not tender, emotional crap. Ugh.

That's when he knew she was big trouble.

Her words haunted him last night. The way she admitted to her past and all its ugliness. He'd assumed she lived some type of enchanted life in an ashram where everyone sang "Kumbaya." Wrong on all counts. Losing both parents so tragically had to take a toll. Yet she'd fought through and not only survived but flourished. She actually gave a crap about others, too. He knew people who led charmed lives and didn't care about making anyone else's better.

Yeah. She was big trouble, all right.

He needed to complete the course, prove to his captain that he had his life together, and return to his normal routine. Normal may be a bit lonely, but it worked. The ups and downs of complicated relationships just wasn't for him. His past marriage had taught him well.

But damned if he still didn't want to have one night of dirty sex with his teacher.

"Yeah, she's hot. But a pain in the ass."

"How so?"

Stone lined up and took the shot. The six ball sank in the corner pocket. "We met her before. Arilyn Meadows. Remember the domestic abuse case with Genevieve MacKenzie and David Riscetti? She called it in."

His partner whistled. "Damn. How's that for karma? She so did not like you. Thought you ate too many donuts. Liked me a lot, though."

Stone glared. "Yeah, what woman doesn't like you, dude? She's everything I'm not."

His partner grinned, those shiny white teeth mocking his own dull ones from years of smoking and too much coffee. "Like what?"

"Vegetarian. Buddha worshipper. Believes breathing staves off criminal intent. Probably refuses to kill ants or spiders, cleanses her colon on a monthly basis, and stalks fur warehouses to vandalize for the greater cause."

Devine nodded his head. The dim lights flickered, highlighting white-blond hair and reminding Stone of a real-life Gabriel. The guy was pure Hollywood and recruited female groupies on a regular basis. He also rarely got embarrassed, backed him up in any situation, and was the best shot Stone had ever seen. When they got a chance to shoot.

Devine gave him the famous smirk that would make Pitt weep. "Maybe you need to change it up a bit. The women you usually date haven't worked out well. Try someone different."

Stone snorted. "Yeah, after one night that one would be sniffing after china patterns and picking baby names. No, thanks. I don't need that type of complication."

"Why not?" He jerked and screwed up the shot. Devine gave a snort of laughter. Bastard.

"I'm just sayin' there's nothing wrong with hooking up more than one night with a good woman. Just because the last one screwed you doesn't mean they're all like that. Maybe she'll surprise you."

"I don't like surprises," Stone said.

His friend shot him a knowing look. "You don't like the bad kind. Like walking in on your wife and finding her screwing another guy. At least this one sounds like she has character."

Yeah. She did. It was evident in every move she made. Character and good intentions. Still didn't mean he wanted to try a woman like Arilyn Meadows. She'd probably lecture him on health issues, want to engage in deep conversations regarding their relationship, be the queen of lost causes, and drive him crazy.

Total disaster.

He watched Devine study the table and crack the stick. Nice shot. "I don't like any type of surprises," Stone finally said. "And maybe this advice shouldn't be coming from a man whose future with women consists of what they want for breakfast. You're a man whore, Devine."

His friend shot him a grin. "I'm ready to settle down the minute I meet the right woman. It's not about quantity, man. It's about quality."

"Whatever. Hey, there's Dunn and McCoy." Stone lifted his beer and slapped his coworkers on the shoulder. Tim Make It Work Dunn was the only sergeant in the department, ambitious, and on track for detective. His ginger hair and pale skin got him a lot of ribbing, but he still drank anyone under the table. Jay McCoy had been on the force a long time and had settled down with the wife and three kids. He managed to balance family life with the workload, and was definitely the most chill in the department. He was also the best practical joker. When the worst pranks came out, everyone knew Jay was behind them.

McCoy bumped his shoulder and grabbed two beers from the bar. "I put this on your tab, dude. That Mentos thing got me in trouble. Spilled the damned soda all over my papers and had to redo them, you asshole. The Dick went nuts."

Stone laughed and lifted his beer in a salute. "The classics are the best. Took me long enough to rig the whole operation. Needed some revenge for the shit you put in my trunk."

Tim cocked his hip against the table and rolled his eyes. "A little soda explosion is hardly revenge. You gotta step it up if you want to play in the big leagues, Petty. Now let's play some pool."

"Fine. Rack 'em up, Devine. I'm getting a refill."

Stone walked to the bar, chatting a bit with Ray, and spotted Patrick at the far end of the bar. The older man was new but had become a regular. Stone enjoyed his conversation and friendly ribbing. He was a veteran who had kicked ass in Nam, played a mean game of pool, and could swig a Guinness like nobody's business. He lived in the senior citizen home, but he seemed fine to Stone.

"Hey, Pat, how's it going?"

The man looked up and grinned. His stately silver hair and bushy eyebrows spoke

of good, solid genes. "Stone! I'm good, man. You playing with your crew? What happened to bustin' criminals in Verily?"

Stone laughed and nodded to Ray to put the drinks on his tab. "Not too much going on lately. Maybe you should go stir up some trouble at the center and get me some excitement going."

"Man, do I wish." Patrick rolled his eyes. "I'm trying to fit in there, but for God's sake, it's so lame. No interesting women. All they do is talk about their arthritis or foot problems or gas. Tried to go on that bus trip to see Mamma Mia! It was painful. Abba songs and girly stuff the whole time. It's like they're all halfway to the grave."

Stone shook his head. "That's tough. Can you live on your own? Have any family members to help you out?"

"Nah, I had to sell my house because of the diabetes. It was time. Can't drive anymore anyway. My granddaughter already does too much for me. She's a good girl."

Ray set down the beers. Stone nodded his thanks. "Good to have family who cares."

"Maybe I can set you two up? She needs a decent man."

Alarm bells rang. "Sorry, Pat, I seem to do better with the bad girls."

Patrick laughed and raised his Guinness. "I did once, too. Maybe you just need to try a good girl for a change."

"Tell you what. Devine over there knows the right way to treat a woman. Why don't you ask him?"

Patrick nodded. "Seems like a handsome guy. She picks me up here a lot, so we'll see."

"We're playing a game. You want in?"

"How much?"

Stone grinned. "How much you got, old man?"

"More than you'll ever take from me. Might as well empty your pockets now."

"You're on." They walked over to the table and Patrick greeted the other men. "You got a ride tonight from your granddaughter?"

"Nah, don't want to bother her. I'll walk."

Stone looked outside. It was getting dark earlier with the change of season. "I'll drive you later."

Patrick agreed, and they spent the next few hours playing pool and darts and trading war stories. By the time Stone dropped Patrick off at the center, he felt more relaxed. It was nice to make a new friend, especially one who seemed to get his rough sense of humor. He fit right in with the cops, being used to the blue-collar talk from his military past and having been a mechanic. Plus, he'd gone nuts over Stone's muscle car, declaring it one of the finest automobiles he'd ever seen, and the man knew his cars.