Arilyn sighed and prepped herself for the long night ahead.
STONE CAREFULLY SCREWED THE caps back on the two Coke bottles and breathed a sigh of relief. Perfect. It had been way too long since he last attempted such a classic practical joke with soda and Mentos, and even had to YouTube the steps, but now he was in business. He headed over to McCoy’s desk first, placing the bottle on the right-hand side and quickly tossing out the half-empty one.
“Whatcha up to, Petty? Aren’t you still on suspension?”
He turned around. Sergeant Tim Dunn was nicknamed Make It Work Dunn, in honor of Project Runway’s host. Of course, this drove him apeshit because the host’s name was really Gunn. To Stone and the others, it was close enough. Dunn gave him a suspicious look. And well he should. Stone slouched and sneered. “Just looking for McCoy. Wanted him to check on a speeder. He’s going to court in my place. Here, want this? I’m ready to piss like a racehorse, I’ve had so much Coke.”
He shoved it in Tim’s hand like he didn’t give a crap. Tim took it. “I’m a Pepsi man, but sure. Thanks. Hey, we’re having some problems with the rookie.”
Stone lifted a brow. “Patterson? What’s up?”
Tim rolled his eyes. With his cropped blond hair and Irish red cheeks, he was the scrappy sort, with a mean hook that could knock a guy on his ass in two seconds flat. “He’s got a stick up his ass. OCD sort. Organizes his locker, paperwork, desk. Don’t care if he keeps it to himself, but he’s starting to piss everyone off. Trying to get Jessica to alphabetize the call-ins by last name and shit. Then told McCoy his paperwork wasn’t up to snuff.”
The dispatcher, Jessica, didn’t like anyone to tell her how to run her desk. When she got pissed, the department felt the heat. And criticizing a higher-ranking officer was just not done. Stone shook his head. “Bad news. What do you want to do?”
Tim grunted. “He likes his locker so damn much, let’s move it where he can see it easier. Like outside.”
A juvenile glee zipped through Stone. There might be only about seven people working in the department, but they were tight. Newbies needed to learn when they went off course, and the right practical joke put them in their place and made the point crystal clear. “Let’s do it. He’s on night shift, right?”
“Yep.”
“Good. We’ll put it by his car. Upside down, of course.”
“Of course.”
They both chuckled. “I’ll stop back. Heading to the gym. See ya.”
“Later, dude.”
His hand had just pushed open the door when the sound of Dunn shouting and cursing hit his ears. Guess he had opened up his bottle early to a total explosion. Grinning, Stone walked faster. Yeah, the classic jokes were the best.
He was in a good mood the whole way to the gym. Changing into his shorts and tank, Stone headed toward the weight room and started with the bench press. When his shoulders revolted a bit as he pushed up, he was reminded of the hellish Salutation to the Whatever routine Arilyn was always putting him through. Unbelievable. Who would’ve thought yoga could be such a workout? He made a note to see when the next Pilates class was. Time to stretch out so he could stop embarrassing himself in front of her. She seemed wickedly satisfied every time she caught him trying to hide a wince.
Stone settled into reps, working each core muscle until it ached. He’d learned when he was a skinny, too-tall delinquent that knowing how to fight and defend himself was key to survival. From both the streets and his father. He’d kept up a strict routine of lifting and running, so he’d always be able to either flee first or do damage to his opponents. When he’d met Ellen, that part of his past fascinated her in a dark, shocking way. She used to shiver and tell him a bit of violence was sexy.
Yeah, real sexy. Sure, the testosterone was a rush, but waking up in a blur of pain and blood just wasn’t that hot. Even if you were the one putting the other guy there.
Stone gritted his teeth and began on squats. If he was honest with himself, he’d admit Ellen’s background was also a turn-on. She was so different from him, all classic elegance begging to be messed up, and boasted an easy childhood with no ghosts. Since she worked as an executive assistant to a banker, she wore conservative suits and high heels and perfect makeup. She was gorgeous and confident. Attracted to her flirtatious manner and fun sense of humor, he’d dived headlong into an affair, and on impulse, he asked her to marry him. Surprisingly, she said yes. Had they even exchanged deep “I love yous”? Talked about the future and children? No. They’d both figured everything would work out, because neither of them was a planner or too interested in analyzing tomorrow. In a way, they were too alike ever to make it.
Maybe that’s why they ended up married and engaged so fast. The first hit of something new and fresh probably turned them both on. Of course, after the fun ended and his work ate him up and spit him back out, she wasn’t as turned on by that side of him.
His work schedule blasted them back to reality. Hard reality. Endless shifts, sleepless nights, and little entertainment caused a tear. Soon they were fighting, insulting, taking potshots that left shallow cuts and little time to heal. She wanted to travel and be fabulous. He wanted to slay the demons and catch the bad guys. Suddenly, it wasn’t so much fun anymore, and Stone finally figured out he wasn’t a man worth fighting for.
The incident confirmed the end. After he shot his gun and got dragged into an investigation that put the spotlight on him, she distanced herself. All the intense energy he exuded that used to intrigue her became distasteful. Like turning over a big, smooth rock and spotting a bunch of slugs beneath. They’d been on the literal rocks before the incident, but afterward? There was nothing left to save. Her affair only confirmed how far they’d sunk.
It hardly stung anymore. Stone wondered how long their marriage would have lasted if he hadn’t walked in on her. Had he ever loved her on a bone-deep, emotional level? Or had he just been lonely and lost after the shooting, looking for a connection to save him?
When his request for a transfer to Verily went through, he couldn’t wait to get out of the Bronx and away from all the damn memories. Even his partner hadn’t cared, but their relationship hadn’t been tight like his with Devine. He bet Devine would’ve backed him up and fought for him to stay.
Bet he wouldn’t have slept with his wife either.
Sweat ran down his body. He clenched his teeth and pushed past the strain, his muscles working overtime, the exertion clearing his mind. He spotted the pretty blonde staring at him, her blue eyes wide with appreciation of his form. He was a realist when it came to his body. He put a lot of crap into it, but he balanced that with steady workouts and training to help sculpt the physical traits needed to succeed as a cop. His Black Irish blood had also been a gift. Women seemed to like that type of heritage, something about the dark hair and eyes with fairer skin. The tall, skinny youth had finally grown up until he towered over all the other punks in the neighborhood and gained respect. Growing the goatee just added to the rough appeal.
Whatever. He wasn’t the type to stare in a mirror. As long as he was clean and had some type of clothes on, he was good to go. Getting women had never been a problem for him. Stone finished his squats, wiped his face with a towel, and grabbed the hand weights for biceps curls. The blonde inched closer, an open smile curving her lips. Definitely an invite. He hadn’t seen her before, but she was cute. Seemed as if she’d be open to grabbing a shake at the juice bar and accompanying him home.
The image of Arilyn’s face drifted past him.
Ah, crap. He grunted and rolled out a few sets. Fingers gripping the hand weights, his veins bulged, the warmth of adrenaline flooded his blood, and he became half-aroused. He hoped it was the pretty blonde making him semi-erect, but the damn image of his long-limbed teacher who owned her body with a pride he rarely spotted in females was starting to kill him. Worse? He was imagining her doing the Salutation thing naked. With him.