Free In Your Arms: A Small Town Love Story (Safe Haven Book 1) by Erin Sloane

this right down while it’s still easy.
    One step back to the solid footing of the occasional tension-releasing one-night-stand was the right move. Sure, the gratification was a bit one-dimensional, physical and fleeting, but nobody got hurt, either. Sometimes solace really could be found in an anonymous warm body, for a few hours at least.
    He continued to make lengths of the pool, trying to soothe his mind and tire his body so he could get a sound night’s sleep. But his mind wouldn’t still and in an instant he was back at the bathroom door, reaching for Marlo, taking her by the arms, gently steering her out of the way while every fiber in his body wanted to maneuver her directly into the shower with him.
    Let go of the girl. If Marlo is damaged, she doesn’t need your baggage, too.
    He touched the wall again and on the next turn forced himself to swim the entire length of the pool underwater. His lungs were near bursting as he reached the end. It hurt but this physical discomfort was tangible. Something he could put a finger on and control.
    After swimming four more lengths, he turned and stayed underwater for the following two lengths, found the end for the second time and surfaced, gasping for air. That got her out of his head. Reaching for the edge of the pool, he hauled himself out and stood doubled over, hands on thighs, sucking great gulps of air while the water dripped from his body and puddled at his feet. He stayed that way until his deprived heart stopped its hammering protest against his chest wall.
    A wolf whistle caught his attention. “Need some resuscitation, big boy?” Two women were sitting on their balcony, drinks in hand. “Come on up. We’ll bring you back to life.”
    Their apartment was in semi-darkness one floor above an unlit area of the pool complex. He gave them a small wave and they beckoned eagerly.
    The sirens’ lure—those devious creatures promised the sort of enchantment of which this night he had no desire. He rumpled his hair with his fingers, shaking out as much water as possible, and headed toward his apartment. That whisky won’t have gone anywhere.
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    M arlo watched Justice eat his breakfast. Since the work with Joker the other day—which proved his worthiness of the title, The Extractor—Justice had made some tremendous gains. He now stood properly and would eat his meals as Marlo watched. Yet he still wouldn’t take food from her hand. In fact, he remained quite fearful of hands and this was making his rehabilitation that much more challenging.
    Out walking on a leash, he could be easily startled although he was better if he had a calm dog to take his cues from. Sudden hand movements sent him straight back to pancake mode. Despite his age, which they reckoned to be around two years, he was really an ungainly, uneducated puppy. Albeit a fearful one.
    She would bring down Fala to check him out, once Adam was there to help. If that meeting went well, Justice could have a shot at spending the night up at the house.

    J ustice came out of his kennel and trotted to the fence, his tail swinging gently in time with his gait. Adam crouched low to greet him. “Look at you, big brave guy. Have you been shaking off some of that stress?” The dog pressed up against the fence trying to get as close as possible to Adam. “You’re in luck today.” His fingers tracked along the old fighting scars that ran like an urban roadmap across the dog’s face. “Marlo’s bringing a very special lady to meet you.”
    Adam was nudged from behind and as he turned, Fala flung herself at him. “Hello, princess.” He rubbed her all over and she did her best to shower him with kisses.
    “Come on, you two, you can do the smoochy stuff later.”
    They were going to walk the leashed dogs down to the meadow. If all went well, they would release them to play. So far Justice hadn’t shown any aggression towards the other dogs. If anything, he was a little shy until he gained some confidence