She tamped down on the flash of temper and glared at Stone. Of course not. More things to do in Verily, such as speeding tickets to make more money for the town. She tried to imagine him risking time and effort on an animal case and couldn’t. He was more for the hard-core cases.
“What are our options?”
“I wondered if you could take a quick drive out there. Look around. The house is on a dead-end road with a gate. If you see something that can be used as evidence, we may be able to send someone out.”
The idea took root and bloomed. Yes. She’d just figured out a task for Officer Petty to complete while in her anger management course. And it would help not only him but also the shelter.
“No problem. I’ll check back with you after I make my run.”
His sigh of relief echoed through the phone. “Thanks. It’s a load off my mind. I’m kind of slammed with the Fur Ball event going on, and we lost two volunteers last week when they moved away.”
“Hang in. I’ll talk to you later.”
They hung up. Time to use a bit of force from the force to help save an animal.
Arilyn threw her phone in her satchel and took a seat at the front.
“Let’s begin.”
HE NEVER SHOULD’VE EATEN the damn fish fillet.
Stone lay on the mat with his feet straight out in front of him. The object, besides breathing of course, was to touch his toes with his hands. The two bastards beside him seemed to have little trouble with this task also. As his teacher from hell praised them for their “surrender” to their bodies, he did everything in his power, including praying to God, to just touch one end of his finger anywhere close to his ankles.
Not gonna happen.
Was that look of sympathy she shot him on purpose? Damned if it wasn’t. Instead of support, she directed her words to him in her chilly, professional voice with no warmth: “Don’t fight your body, Officer. Relax into the stretch and accept your limitations. Not everyone can touch their toes the first time.”
He could bench-press an elephant and run two miles without breaking a sweat. But his ridiculous hamstrings were bunched up like cords, and his back wanted to spasm in shock. That was it. He was hitting some kind of Pilates class and screw whoever thought he wasn’t manly. This was humiliation in public. Stone glanced over to the other dudes and caught Eli’s triumphant look. Then the bastard leaned even deeper, going past his stupid toes.
Show-off.
She chattered nonstop in that lilting musical voice and got him even more twisted up. Stuff about release and the body-mind and the root of disease lying in anger. Had he ever noticed her ass was spectacular? Sure, he knew she was in shape, but when she turned and the perfect, tight, heart-shaped rear was right in front of him, he got all kinds of distracted.
He tried not to pant and curse, pretending to close his eyes and surrender. Instead, he peeked from under his lids and watched her float across the room.
The fish fillet seemed like a good idea at the time. He only meant to confirm his choice of food and show her not everyone was so perfect. How happy could one possibly be eating wheat and fruit all day? Instead, she’d gotten that scary look on her face, all focused and tight, like she was about to make him pay. As if she actually cared he may die before he hit forty. And that smart-assed remark about his age? Priceless.
Not very yogic. But a hell of a lot more intriguing than her usual. In fact, the way she put him solidly in his place the entire session kind of turned him on in a perverted way. At least she had a spine. A quite gorgeous one, he bet, from that tempting peek of unblemished white skin at the nape of her neck. She’d taken her long hair, twisted it up, and knotted it without even looking in a mirror. Like she didn’t give a crap how she looked. Also obvious in the lack of makeup on her face.
Imagine that. A woman who didn’t spend hours on her appearance. It was like the yeti—an intriguing but never-before-seen legend.
“Let’s breathe in, hold, and release from the position. Excellent work, gentlemen.”
His body creaked and cried, but he made sure to look like it was easy. The glint of laughter in those grassy-green eyes called him an outright liar.
“Later this week we’ll break from group, and I’ll be meeting with everyone on an individual basis. Have a good night.”
He pretended to be all Zenlike so he’d get a few extra moments to get himself up. Trying not to hobble, he made a note to check out the gym calendar for Pilates or something, and headed for the door. Thank God. He was gonna shoot some damn pool and put his supplies to use to gain his revenge. Then he’d—
“Officer? Are you forgetting our additional fifteen-minute session?”
He wanted to close his eyes and groan. Instead, he turned and pasted a confident grin on his face. “Nope, been looking forward to it all day.”
“I’m sure you have. Would you like a quick break to smell a cigarette pack? Drink a Coke? Gobble down some chips?”
He chuckled. “No, thanks. But I understand if you’re in a bad mood. Did you hear too much fiber backs you up?” He shook his head. “Quite uncomfortable, I bet. Me? I don’t have problems like that.”
She jerked back and pressed her uncolored, lush pink lips together. Her nose crinkled as if she smelled something bad. “Good for you. Of course, the other issues must be difficult to deal with.”
He cocked his head. “What issues?”
“Impotence. One of the major causes is a high-sugar and high-fat diet. Better think before that next Twinkie, Officer.”
For God’s sake, the little brat caused a hoot of laughter to escape. Damned if she didn’t know how to word rumble with the best of them. “Never been a problem before,” he drawled. Took a step closer. The clean smell of peaches and soap hit his nostrils. The sheer purity of her scent turned him on. Who would’ve thought? “Wanna see?”
“No, thanks. Let’s get to work. Please take a spot on the mat.”
Ah, crap. No more mat work. Stone swaggered to the dreaded instrument of torture. “Haven’t we done enough breath and pretzel work for the day?” he muttered under his breath.
“Agreed. I thought we’d go over another important element we deal with. Frustration. Failure. How the mind can slip and judge us, affecting our anger and how we express it.”
She looked way too satisfied, so he knew something bad was coming his way. He could do anything for fifteen minutes. Right? He was a cop, for God’s sake, and been put through both physical and mental torture in order to succeed at the academy and his job. “Sounds like a real party,” he offered. “So, tell me the big secret.”
“No secret. Just practice. We’ll begin simply with some balancing asanas.”
“Ass what?”
She moved to the front of the room. Her face smoothed out and reflected a calmness he only wanted to shake up. “Asanas. Postures to help open different parts of the body. Balancing techniques are important to learn and explore on the mat.”
Yeah. This was going to be bad. “You mean standing on one foot will help anger?”
Arilyn smiled like a female Buddha. “Yes. Let’s begin.”
Maybe five minutes needling her had already passed. Then he’d only have ten minutes left.
“Our time will start from now.”
He really disliked her. A lot.
“Taking in a breath, fix your gaze loosely on a spot on the floor. Lift your right leg and place the bottom of your foot against your inner calf. Once you can hold the position, remain breathing, and lift the leg higher. Watch me first.”
In one smooth, continuous motion, she lifted her hands like a ballerina, seemingly rising taller from the earth, her swanlike neck lengthening. Her foot pointed out, rose in the air, and pressed against the inner flesh of her thigh. She looked like a tree rising from the mist, strong in the trunk and graceful in the branches.