Searching for Always (Searching For 4)

Right?

Guess not. She'd wasted the best years of her life stuck with a man who consistently lied and manipulated in the name of soul-searching. How could she have been so far off with her instincts? Was she just a chump after all? Was she even worthy of the kind of love she dreamed of, the kind that her friends had found?

She blinked furiously to clear her vision. Stop. She was being whiny and ridiculous. She had a great, satisfying life filled with goals and surrounded by plenty of people who loved her. Arilyn lifted the bunch of sage in the air, closed her eyes, and envisioned a home filled with love, peace, and light. The smoke trickled in thin wisps as she moved from room to room, including the closet and bathroom, paying particular attention to the bedroom and kitchen where most intense emotions were expressed.

Finally, the cottage was properly cleansed. She blew out the flame, moved the small pots containing her herbs to the windowsill for proper light, and grabbed the bottle of celebratory wine in the refrigerator. She deserved alcohol tonight. It would go nicely with her veggie burger and steamed edamame. First, she'd complete her asanas, do some pranayama, and then eat. Tomorrow, things would look better and she'd feel stronger. Peaceful. Back in control.

Arilyn was sure of it.

two

WE'VE GOT A problem, Petty."

Stone sat in the battered chair and tried to look unconcerned. When the chief called him in and shut the door, he knew he was screwed. The question was simple. How screwed was he?

Since the incident, he'd been whispered about, endlessly questioned, and judged from his past. Devine backed him up and denied he beat up the husband, citing self-defense. Of course, the blood, bruises, and almost concussion were pretty good evidence. Seemed no charges were filed, though, due to the domestic abuse problem and the child who ended up in the hospital close to having brain trauma.

Thank God, she'd finally been discharged, and she and her mother had disappeared into a women's shelter.

Basically, the whole incident was a clusterfuck of mega proportions. All because he didn't wait for Devine and lost his infamous temper.

Chief Will Williams, aka the Dick, stared hard at him from behind a mess of paperwork, pizza plates, and empty Big Gulp Dr Peppers. He despised paperwork, investigations, and anything that brought any tarnish to the small Verily police force. Till now, Stone had been clean, especially with Devine backing him up. The Dick looked upon Devine as the golden boy on the force. As Devine's partner, Stone had crept up on the chief's approval ladder.

"I'm sorry, sir." He kept his voice low and respectful. "I screwed up, I know I did. But he almost killed his daughter, and I had to move fast."

"Oh, you moved all right, you son of a bitch. Do you know what would have happened if the jerk had sued the force? I'm talking newspaper headlines. Page one. We'd be done. Understand?"

"Yes. It won't happen again."

"I can't risk it happening again." Williams rubbed his forehead, and Stone got a bad feeling in his gut. He'd figured on a tongue-lashing, maybe probation, but this looked more serious. What would he do if he got fired? Panic flared, but he fought it back down. No way. He'd do anything needed to stay. "Look, Petty, you're a good cop. Thorough, badass, and I still think a good addition here. The guys like you. But this anger scares the crap out of me. It's the reason you left your last precinct, and I don't need baggage following you here."

"I've been here a year already, sir, without incident."

"All you need is one incident to banish all the good. If you want to stay, I have some new terms."

Relief hit. Okay, this he could deal with. A few sessions with the shrink, maybe. A slap on the wrist. Forced vacay. Whatever he got hit with, he'd do it with a smile and show his boss he could be trusted.

"Of course. Whatever you think is best, I'll do it."

Williams choked out a laugh. "Let's hope. You'll be enrolled in a six-week anger management class." He pulled out some papers from a thick manila folder and threw them on the desk. "Suspension for two weeks. Devine has already been briefed. He'll remain your partner when you return, but he's lead and you follow."

Stone winced. He hated playing second when they'd been equals, but, hell, he'd swallow it. Two weeks with no work was scary, but he'd swallow it, too, since he had no choice. But anger management? Yikes, that was a new one. He grabbed the paper and began scanning the document.

"And don't think you're gonna show up at these classes and breeze through. From what I've heard, she's hard-core and incorporates an array of unorthodox treatments. In other words, it's gonna be hell."

Private counseling sessions. Yoga? No way. What did yoga have to do with anger management? Charity and community service? Meditation? His heart pounded and sweat pricked his skin. Holy crap, would she force him to sit on the floor cross-legged and chant to Buddha? This wasn't a few hours of lying on a couch and sharing feelings. This was sleepaway camp where the serial killer came in and offed everyone in his path.

Yeah. He could only hope.

Williams stared at him as if expecting a temper explosion or strong denials. Stone choked back his righteous refusal to be a trained pony, because his damn job was his life.

He had nothing else left to give.

"Fine. I'll do it."

"You need to sign."

Stone glared but grabbed the pen and scrawled his name on the line. Like he had a choice. Williams actually looked a bit surprised at his easy acceptance.

"You start Monday. Take the weekend off and get your head together."

"Who's running the classes?" Stone asked.

"Meadows. Arilyn Meadows. I guess she's part owner of that matchmaking agency, Kinnections, but she also does classes on the side in anger management, counseling, and yoga."

Great. That's where the crazy stuff came from. The name rang a bell in his head, and a faint memory tried to grab hold. How did he know that name? So familiar . . .

"Anyway, do your time, and don't let me see this trouble again. Now get outta here."

"Yes, sir."

He left the office and stopped to talk with some of the other guys who wanted to find out about his punishment. He took some ribbing, but generally everyone had his back. Good thing. He'd just reached his desk when he froze, his brain finally making the connection.

Arilyn Meadows.

He'd met her over the summer during a domestic abuse case with one of her best friends. A long, lithe body. Hip-length strawberry hair and grass-green eyes.

Also the biggest pain in the ass he'd ever met.

She was prickly, mouthy, and superior. She razzed him about smoking, accused him of slacking on the job, and had the balls to call him on the endless cliche that he ate donuts in his spare time. She drove him crazy, yet he'd responded to her physically in an instant. A strange, burning chemistry slammed through him when her gaze caught his, and he had the weird instinct to do things to her.

Sexual things.

There was something in those vivid green eyes that called to him. Secrets hidden he wanted to unearth. A demand to make her surrender.

Nuts.

He was certifiably nuts to get a hard-on by a hippie with a God complex. The thought of being tortured for six weeks in a room with her almost made him go back to his chief and tell him no.

Almost.

But he had no choice. The nicotine patch on his arm itched. Oh, he wanted a sweet smoke more than anything else. Would give up his last dime of savings for a puff. Instead, he gritted his teeth and drew out the one crumpled pack of Marlboros he'd left himself as a reminder. Sticking his nose against the pack, he took a deep breath. The faint scent of tobacco calmed him a bit. Ignoring his coworkers' jibes and laughter, he got himself back together and stuck the pack back in his pocket till the next time. He may miss the habit, but he was nearing forty, loved carbs, red meat, and sugar, and was a walking symbol for an early heart attack. He also despised weakness, and a vice that strong needed to go.

He grabbed his keys and wal

ked out of the station. Now he had to deal with a do-gooder who had no idea what cops went through. Still, he had no choice. Best thing to do was accept it, shore up his defenses, and get through it. A physical reaction meant nothing, and a few hours in a room with her would probably cure any type of attraction. He'd agree to her ridiculous terms, pass the course, and get back to his job and his life.

No. Problem.

"I'M GOING TO SUE you."

Arilyn held her smile. The guy across her desk was a difficult client, full of macho attitude, fear of intimacy, and a bad attitude. Still, she believed in counseling her clients to their full potential in order to be able to pursue a healthy relationship. Since she was also teaching an anger management course, she knew well how to solve difficult issues.

"I'm sorry, Ben. Why don't you tell me what the problem is?"