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He didn't respond. Laura's frown only deepened. She was caught off guard by the sudden pain in her chest this revelation brought on. She had been able to recognize from the start his dislike for her. However, his silence now only confirmed it. And it hurt.
Shortly, he asked, “Do you always pick up strangers?”
“I happened to recognize you.” Muttering under her breath, she added, “And I still picked you up.”
He shot her a sour glance indicating he had heard, but decided to check any retort, not wanting to get into another heated wrangle. It was what he remembered most of the woman, and what more than likely caused his dislike for her. Her irksome ability to protract maddening emotions from him, for that matter any emotion. Her bewitching amber-green eyes had his insides doing funny things. He scowled out the window. Yes, it was best if he simply did not look at her.
It was while he stared at the downpour on the opposite side of his window that it dawned on him they had not yet exited the township road and entering city elements. “Where are you going? Any one of these side roads will lead us into town.”
“I know where there's a phone you can use.”
“Laura.” The tone of his voice was every bit of a warning as it was a threat. “Where are you taking me?”
She swallowed, not sure what possessed her to keep driving straight home. But the opportunity had presented itself, how could she turn a blind eye to it? He was basically her prisoner, even for a short period of time, and she would be a fool to miss the chance to try and prove to him her shelter was worth the investment. Her only excuse was she desperately needed the money. At this point, she was capable of doing anything.
“My home's not far out of the way. We'll be there in no time.”
He glared at her. “I have no intention of stepping foot into your house.”
She shrugged nonchalantly. “Your phone call won't be made that way.”
“I'll walk—”
“To the nearest station? About 4 kilometers and it's still raining dreadfully hard out there.” And when he would have barked at her, she added, “You could use the opportunity to dry your clothing and warm up. We've a wonderfully huge fireplace—”
A picture of himself down to his boxers with only a blanket to separate himself and Laura Witherow had him interrupting swiftly, “No thanks.”
“Suit yourself.”
As promised, she pulled into the driveway of her family home-turned-shelter only minutes later. He looked up at the building through the drizzly windshield and gave it more attention than his previous visit. The home was over-sized for its structure indicating it must have been built at the turn of the century along with the neighboring homes. Its red bricks and white eaves trough desperately needed restoring, in addition to the shutters that swung from loosened hinges, were also in urgent need of repair and repainting. The slopping peaks forming the roof indicated rotting shingles, which evidently were decaying faster with each passing rain day. More than likely, in its time, the home had been very beautiful. But time and neglect obviously took its toll.
Laura noticed his disapproving frown and knew he judged her responsible for the deterioration. It hurt to watch her family home lose its once lustrous appearance, but time and cost Laura had little of both. Dexter's grimace only reinforced her guilt, yet at the same time her determination for financial backing. Whatever it took, she would have his investment before he left today.
The rain was still coming down fast, so they darted quickly through deep puddles left along a jagged pathway cracked and broken from neglect, until they reached the top of the verandah and shelter.
Inside, Laura stripped herself of a wet coat then turned to retrieve Dexter's. He shook his head and with a brusque voice demanded, “Where's the phone?”
She sighed inwardly, but directed, “In the kitchen.” Then watched as he stomped sopping wet and leaving a trail of water down the hallway.
Shaking her head, she removed her own wet shoes then followed him. At a small round table tucked into the corner of the room sat Ellie Green and Poppy Ullman helping themselves to supper.
Laura smiled apologetically. “Sorry I'm late, my appointment ran later than I expected. Have the other's eaten?”
The girls weren't looking at her but with inquisitive, admiring glances at her companion. He, on his part, ignored them as he searched out the phone.
“Since when did your shelter include good looking forty-something men, Laura?”
His back stiffened. Turning heavily on squelching shoes, he looked across at the young girls under thick burrowed brows. “Thirty-two. And I'm certainly not staying. If someone could kindly point out the phone I would be ever so grateful.” His voice grated on every note, laying on the sarcasm thick at this last comment.
“Touchy!” Poppy scoffed with a cocky lift of her brow.
“Don't mind him.” Laura reached for the phone perched on top of the refrigerator and pulled the extension cord toward him. “He's always like this.”
Ellie's eyes were huge with interest. “You know him?”
“Unfortunately.” Which received a ditto snort from the object of their discussion.
“Who is he?” Ellie pushed for further information.
