“Welcome.” They stared some more. If a guy saw them, his man card would be officially pulled. “Can I ask you to do something? I wouldn’t ask anyone else, but I trust you.”
He tried to ignore the pleasure that raced through him at her comment. “What?”
“Pinky’s here. She was deemed unfit to be in the kennel with other dogs. She’s completely comatose most of the time, but if she gets close to another dog, she goes berserk. Anthony may not be able to keep her, since they’re too short staffed to give her the proper amount of therapy, plus they need to keep her isolated. People don’t scare her, so she was probably used for bait.”
“You mean bigger dogs attacked her?”
Arilyn nodded. “They try to spur on the bigger dogs. Usually bait dogs are other pit bulls meant to antagonize, but sometimes they’ll use a smaller dog and keep them away to taunt the dogs. She was probably never mauled but consistently threatened and frightened on a regular basis. Something may have snapped.”
“Sons of bitches,” he muttered. “The house is on my radar, you know. I called in a few tips and we’ve got the place being watched. Any more dogs that go in will be caught immediately.”
Her face softened. “Thank you. If you’d just sit with Pinky, it would be a great help. Talk with her. Maybe pet her. Whatever you feel comfortable with. She needs to get used to being back in the real world and feeling unthreatened.”
He wanted to refuse. Stone still hated being around any type of dog, especially in a cage, but the way she looked at him made him want to slay all her dragons. And Pinky’s.
Oh, yeah, he was a chump who wanted that woman bad. Ridiculous. A few days ago, he only wanted to strangle her.
“Fine. All I have to do is sit?”
“Yes. Just be a steady presence. Sometimes they just don’t want to feel so alone.”
Stone knew how that felt.
She led him over to a cage in the corner, away from the other dogs. A small bed, various bowls, and some toys lay haphazardly in the cage. Pinky lay on the right side, staring into space, not moving. Didn’t look vicious. Even if she freaked out, if he stayed by the door, he could get up. Wasn’t like the bigger dogs that could overpower him.
Sweat pricked his brow, but he manned up. Stone opened the gate, dropped down on the rough, damp ground, and propped his back up. Pinky’s head turned a bit toward the sound, but she still didn’t seem interested. She was still just as ugly as the night he first saw her. A few bandages were wrapped around her body, probably to heal the sores. She looked cleaner, too, even though there was no fur. Weren’t dogs supposed to have hair? Her skin was a tan color, with her paws and belly a light pink. Three weird white tufts of fur sprouted from the top of her head in some kind of kooky headdress. Beady black eyes. Pinkish bat ears that sprouted up from the sides of her bullet head. Her black snout stuck out slightly, making her look like she owned a crazy overbite. A simple black collar circled her neck.
Arilyn peered through the gate. “You okay?” she asked.
“Sure. Go ahead, I’ll be fine.”
He heard her footsteps fade away. The sound of a bird screeched in the air, along with whimpers and other doggy noises down the way. The rat’s—umm, Pinky’s nose twitched as she caught a scent. Yeah, she was still in there somewhere. Whatever had happened was bad. He knew how that went.
Stone gave a long sigh. “Guess it’s just me and you for a while. That acceptable?”
No answer.
Stone settled back for a long, long silence.
ARILYN SLID THE BROCCOLI bake in the oven, sliced some multigrain bread, and poured a glass of wine. It had been a good day. The guys had been great at the shelter, no mini disasters had cropped up, and now she was ready to relax with a good book and a bath. Sure, she couldn’t stop thinking about the amazing kiss with Officer Stone Petty. Both of them. The way he touched her and commanded her body, tempting her to do a whole bunch of dirty, delicious things she’d never tried.
But she controlled herself. Repeated the mantra over and over that he was a client and off-limits. Kind of. Definitely a gray area but easier to sketch the boundary lines in bold black-and-white.
At least, that’s what she kept telling herself.
Holding back a sigh, Arilyn grabbed her laundry basket and headed outside to get her clothes from the line. She hoped that Mrs. Blackfire wouldn’t be out spying. Guilt pricked her at the second empty wine bottle she’d be forced to put out in recycling this week. The evening spent together hadn’t gone as bad as she expected, and Poppy had entertained them both with stories. Mrs. Blackfire had actually smiled at one point. Arilyn couldn’t stop staring at her, wondering if it was a trick of the light, and then Poppy gave her that sharp look—that she was being rude—and she’d concentrated on eating. At least, Poppy seemed more inclined to try some other activities at the center this week.
She opened the door and rammed right into the man on her doorstep.
When she refocused, her world shook, tilted, and dumped her in a tangle of limbs on the cold ground.
Jacob.
He looked exactly the same. Shoulder-length dark hair tied back, revealing the graceful, etched lines of his face. Long limbed and lean from his many years of yoga. A watchful, reflective aura surrounded him. He’d studied in India under a powerful yogi and dedicated his life to serving others.
Too bad he was also a lying, scheming cheater.
The nasty thought helped her breath return. Her world rebalanced. Her many years of practice and study under his tutelage came roaring back. Once, he’d made her feel as if she was the most important thing in his world. Now he only reminded her of how little she meant to him in the bigger picture.