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“They look the same.”

“Trust me, you’re a better help out there. Keep an eye on Poppy and make sure he’s not sneaking slugs of beer. I cut him off.”

“Mmm. ’Kay.” They stared at each other for a few moments. Funny, he’d never experienced that sensation of having the world melt away, but he couldn’t give a crap if a crime happened right in front of him. Stone seemed unable to move from the spell of those green eyes. Her delicious clean scent rose to his nostrils like heaven. “Whatcha making?”

“Pasta with creamy cauliflower sauce. I saw it on Thug Kitchen. I promise you’ll like this one.”

His lip twitched. It was a fifty-fifty shot. Some of her recipes he was actually getting used to. Other times she finally took pity on him and gave him something he recognized. Still, he left with his belly full, feeling pampered and cared for in a way he had never experienced.

Patrick spoke up. “With real sausage. She promised.”

He raised his brow. “Seriously?”

She shook her head but grinned. “Yes. I went to the organic butcher. I bend if you bend.”

“Sweet.” He opened the refrigerator, grabbed an IPA, and took a pull. Reaching into the right top cabinet, he took down four bowls and lined up the silverware. “Mrs. Blackfire, I saw your driveway is starting to crack. It’ll never make the winter. Do you have someone you trust to do it?”

“The last company did a terrible job, but they won’t come back to fix it. I called several times.”

Stone frowned as he set the table. “Is it that place on the edge of town with the dirty red truck parked in front?”

“Yes! I can’t get them to make good on the work, even though I paid for a guarantee.”

“I’ll take care of it. I know some people over there.”

“Thank you.” It came out soft and grudgingly, but Stone had been making great strides in cracking Mrs. Blackfire’s hard shell. The more he got to know her, he realized it was all a farce. She had no one in her life, and because she was so abrasive, people didn’t stay around long enough to get to know her. Arilyn set out the portions, with a vase of happy yellow flowers, and poured water in all the glasses. “Of course, you can really help if you convince your girlfriend to chop down that tree for the winter. When the snow piles up, it’s going to fall.”

Patrick shook his head. “Joan, I promise you, it won’t fall.”

“You don’t know that, Patrick! It’s leaning much more to the right!”

Stone spoke up. “How about I personally trim that bigger branch back?”

“Great idea,” Patrick said. “A compromise.”

Mrs. Blackfire glanced back and forth, then sighed. “Fine. I can compromise.”

“Done. Hey, how about—”

“Stone.” His name shot out in the room like a cannon ball. He turned to Arilyn, worried, and saw her staring at something behind the counter. Her face reflected a bit of shock mixed with something close to joy. “Come over here. Slowly.”

He took a few steps toward her and followed her gaze.

Pinky was sprawled out on Robert’s back, her small head resting on his, nestled in the soft spot between his ears. Her eyes were half-closed in ecstasy. Robert didn’t move, his chin comfortably resting on the ground, a look of pleasure planted on his face, a half doggy grin widening his mouth.

And in that moment, something broke inside Stone’s chest.

A gooey mess of junk poured out, making his damn eyes sting and a tightness squeeze his heart. Damned if that wasn’t a sight to see. The two survivors, together, happy, and safe. A rush of emotion fought for dominance. He engaged in the fight of his life to keep it together.

“Cool. Guess they hooked up.”

Arilyn jumped into his arms and hugged him tight. “I knew you could do it,” she whispered. The warning in his head bolted to the danger zone, but she felt so good in his arms, so warm and solid and real, he ignored the flashing red lights for a while.

“No, you did it.”

Patrick gave a booming laugh. “You both did it. Now sit your butts down and let’s test out this Thug Kitchen recipe. They’re a bit badass, so this may work.”

Grinning like idiots, they sat at the table and ate.

And things were good.

Hours later, temporarily sated, holding her naked body close, Stone surrendered to his need for more. Once again, in the dark, in the quiet, it was safe. Morning would arrive soon enough, and he’d bury himself in work, gain a bit of distance. “Tell me about your mom.”

She snuggled against him, as comfortably as Pinky did with Robert, and spoke. “Mom was amazing. Full of spit and vinegar, as Poppy would say. She did everything bigger than life—whether it be partying, eating, drinking, smoking, having fun. She liked the extremes. She wanted a bunch more children, but then they diagnosed her with the cancer, and she battled it for a year.” Arilyn dragged in a breath. Stone stroked her hair, waiting. “In the end, I watched her die a little bit more every day. The cancer ate her alive until there was nothing left of the mother I knew. Dad couldn’t handle it. He’d always been in her shadow and adored her more than the average husband. He kind of doted on her. After she passed, he lost something—the drive to go on. I thought I’d be enough, but I wasn’t. Poppy was the one who found him. Swallowed pills. Left me a good-bye note.”

Stone squeezed her tighter, the horror of losing both parents so quickly washing over him. “I’m sorry, little one. I can’t even imagine how you got through it.”

“I didn’t for a while. Poppy thought he’d lose me, too. I guess I could’ve decided to go off the deep end or turn my life around. I chose the latter. A friend got me to go to a stress management workshop that incorporated yoga techniques. At the end, some of the poison I’d kept inside began to release. That’s when I knew I had to commit to a different path. I thought if I worked on myself really hard, I’d find a way not to just survive but to live. The deeper I got, the more I loved it. Yoga and meditation and the karmic path felt right for me. Like I finally found a place of peace.” She gave a half laugh empty of humor. “Sorry for the drama. I know you didn’t have a picnic for a past either.”

“Stop. Don’t apologize for something real, something that made you fight. You know how many people I see day after day that just disintegrate—either with drugs or some other vice to kill the pain? You took the hard way. You’re stronger than most men I know.”

She relaxed a bit in his hold. “Poppy helped. That’s why I want to be here for him. I told him I’d find another place and he could live with me, but he insisted he wants to stay at the center.”

“He seems to be settling better. I think as long as he can go to Ray’s for pool and see you regularly, he’ll be okay.”

“Me, too. I can’t believe he’s a bit sweet on Mrs. Blackfire. You know he mentioned Thanksgiving to her? Wants the three of us to be together. Who would’ve thought I’d be serving tofu turkey to the Wicked Witch of Verily?”

He chuckled. “Miracles happen. Since dating you, I haven’t eaten a Big Mac.”

“Thank God.” She ruffled his hair and grinned. “What do you usually do for the holiday?”

He shrugged. “Work. Give the other guys with families a chance to be home.”

“Well, it’s an open invite to come here. Even after your shift, I’ll keep your tofu hot.”

The sudden realization they were now talking holidays after a cozy meal with her grandfather and neighbor hit him hard. Panic stirred. What was he doing? Things were moving way too fast; he needed to slow everything down. For God’s sake, he now had a dog, had promised to fix Mrs. Blackfire’s driveway, and had become well-known at the senior center. What was happening to him?

He grimaced. “Tofu will never touch my mouth. You’ll need to up your game.”

Her green eyes sparkled with mischief. “Consider it upped.” With one graceful movement, she rolled over to straddle him. Strawberry hair tumbling down her shoulders, hard peach nipples peeking through the strands, she arched, cupping her breasts, and he was hard again and ready to go. “How’s this?”