Home > Searching for Always (Searching For #4)(11)

Searching for Always (Searching For #4)(11)
Author: Jennifer Probst

Oh, Lord, he was flirting. Wasn’t he? How dare he flirt with her? She was in charge. If he thought he’d charm her into letting him off easy, he was smoking more than cigarettes. She chilled her voice. “No,” she said. “Much easier to avoid those types of sins completely.”

Her skin tingled under his burning gaze. “Pity.” He paused. “Maybe you just haven’t encountered the right temptation.”

Oh, yeah, he was flirting. Or just screwing with her mind—he was too damn smart for his own good. She snapped off her comment with one goal in mind. Total eradication of any future come-ons. “Been there. Done that.” Arilyn made sure to rake his figure with a dismissive gaze. “Not tempted to do it again. Take a seat.”

He didn’t move for a moment, as if reminding her that he did things on his own terms. He finally obeyed, but his mocking grin told her he had allowed her to win this round. Another shiver shook her from the thought of him controlling all aspects of a relationship. Total nightmare.

Arilyn cleared her throat, dragging herself back to the present. The three men listened as she outlined the rough syllabus and goals for the full six weeks. She preferred to keep some of her field trips a surprise until the day of so no one worried or had too much time to weasel out of them. After Stone’s last statement, Arilyn decided it was a good time to break for lunch and regroup in the afternoon. Her head throbbed slightly, reminding her that she had forgotten her herbal supplements and had eaten only a Greek yogurt with fruit this morning. Maybe she’d have time to stop for a veggie wrap before she headed home to let Lenny and Mike out. Since the breakup, she’d been extremely unorganized and felt like her head was stuffed with cotton. Time to refocus. The three men in the room deserved it. Kinnections deserved it. And the shelter needed her sharp, considering the current crisis going on with funding. This was the time when she truly wished she was rich and able to funnel tons of money to them so there were no worries.

She hurried out of the firehouse and down the sidewalk, then stopped short.

Officer Stone Petty stood under the bright green-and-yellow awning of Stella’s Beauty Shop, transfixed on the object in his hands.

A crumpled pack of Marlboros.

The sudden spurt of rage surprised her. She may disapprove and try to help, but Arilyn understood the power of free choice and being ready to quit any vice. But for some reason, the sight of this powerful man slowly killing himself made her vision blur. Since her car was parked right by him, she forced herself to walk past, yank open the door, and mind her own business.

It didn’t happen.

“Enjoying yourself, Officer?”

He turned his head. “Huh?”

She clenched her hand around the handle and shook with temper. “Enjoying your cigarettes?” she sneered. “Having fun destroying the body God gave you so you can wake up one day gasping for breath and talking through a tube?”

He raked his gaze over her in a lazy, assessing way that only made her madder. “This is the second time you threatened me with hospitals and tubes. I take it you don’t agree with smoking?”

She fumed. How was he so calm when she wanted to jump across the street and throttle him? The image of her mother slowly dying of lung cancer still haunted her, but she managed to live with it. Watching her dad die after her of a broken heart, not caring that he left his only daughter alone, had been even harder. Mom had fought to live. Dad had fought to die.

Stone obviously cared about people, especially since he was a cop. Why couldn’t he care about himself, too? Was that so hard to do? Arilyn swallowed back the words and managed a shrug. “I don’t agree with waste,” she said. “Or suicide. But it’s your choice. Enjoy your smoke.”

She turned her back, ready to get in her car, but his words sliced through the air.

“I quit.”

She slowly cranked her head back around. “Yeah. That’s why you’re holding a pack.”

He held up the package. “It’s empty. I’m on the damn patch, but sometimes I go nuts for a craving and need to smell it.” He let out an aggravated breath. “Stupid, I know, but it helps. I’ve been clean for a month now.”

Relief cut through her, but she didn’t dare analyze it. “Oh. Well, good for you. I know it’s hard. Do you have someone you can call?”

His rough laugh made her tummy dip. He was so . . . virile. “Nah, no smoking sponsor for me. In fact, no one’s pretty much given a damn if I quit or not. Until you.”

Heat coursed through her, and it had nothing to do with the sun. She cleared her throat. “I care about everyone,” she said. The prim tone made her want to wince, but she owned it. “Aren’t we all worth more than we think?”

Like a falcon sighting prey, he remained still and silent. Those inky eyes refused to release her. Yet. “Sure. If that’s your party line.”

The annoyance snapped back. “You don’t believe everyone deserves not to be judged?”

“Nope. Criminals deserve shit.”

“What if they committed a crime with a higher purpose?” she challenged. “There’s plenty of gray areas. Not everything is black-and-white.”

“I don’t care what someone’s lofty ambition is if they break the law. Or are you one of those touchy-feely types who believe the garbage on death row should be forgiven? Released back into society for a second chance?” The already familiar sneer touched his lips. “Easy to forgive when you’re not the one who was affected by the crime, huh?”

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