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I sighed. He was right. I'm not sure why I reacted this way to him. Maybe because he’d seen me at my most vulnerable - leaving prison alone where he, a stranger, had to step in because no one else cared enough to meet me.
"I could see by the way his hands curled that he had arthritis, and I'm sure this weather makes it particularly painful. He said he was trying to get to a shelter, but it had started raining, and they didn't like him hanging out inside the store. So I gave him my bus pass and some hot coffee to warm his hands while he held it, plus a sandwich to eat."
"So why didn't you buy another pass or pay cash for your own fare?" He knew how to pursue an answer, that was for damn sure.
"Because I didn't have the right change," I mumbled.
"You mean because you spent it on the food you bought him, don't you?"
He didn't miss a thing. I shrugged it off as if it were no big deal because to me, it wasn't. "Well, I'm younger and healthier. A walk in the rain won't hurt me, and thanks to the kindness of others, I have a warm place to go home to tonight."
He pulled into my complex and parked his truck. He shut off the engine and swiveled around so he could look at me.
"That's one of the kindest things I've witnessed in a long time." The light of a street lamp reflect
ed on his face, dotted by shadows of raindrops on the windshield. He shook his head. "You really are an enigma."
"First a cat and now an enigma. Throwing stones again, Mr. Andrews?"
He smiled and shook his head. "No, just learning more about you. And it was 'barbed arrows' I believe."
I was glad it was dark so he couldn't see how red my face turned. "Yeah, about that. I'm sorry." I smiled shyly. "Anyway, thank you for the ride." I started to open my door.
"Stop." Lightning flashed again, and the rain started to pour. Holt grabbed his umbrella and reached for his handle.
"Um, thank you, but I can take it from here."
He frowned at me. "I didn't rescue you from a walk in the rain to have you get soaked at the end." He jumped out of the truck before I could argue further. He opened my door and extended his hand. I hesitated to accept his assistance, a combination of stubbornness to be independent and because I wasn't used to such politeness.
And maybe because you're afraid you'll enjoy it?
Other than Emma McCloskey's warm hug, it had been a long time since I'd known a kind touch. Despite some rough moments, Holt’s kindness tonight was making it hard to resist him.
I must have paused too long because the next thing I knew I'd been pulled from my seat and was standing next to him, his arm wrapped around my shoulders holding me close. I tried to put some distance between us, but I was quickly yanked back against him. "I don't bite, Ms. Stone. It's also not a big umbrella, and while I don't want you to get wet, I don't particularly feel like getting soggy either."
A streak of lightning with a crack of thunder right on top of it made me forget about any qualms I had of being close to him as the earth rumbled beneath our feet. I flung my arms around his waist and buried my face against his chest. I absorbed the smell of his soft wool suit coat and cologne, so completely masculine but comforting. I felt his stance stiffen but then relax and the arm around my shoulders squeezed.
He bent his head, and his breath felt warm as he rumbled directly in my ear. "Let's get inside before we become a human lightning rod."
I nodded and awkwardly disentangled myself from him, but he continued to hold me close as he kept us under the umbrella and guided us to the front doors of the apartment building. It wasn't a long distance, but it felt awkward bumping against him, and I instinctively put my arm back around his waist.
Holt snapped the umbrella shut and followed me into the lobby, then pushed the button on the elevator and followed me inside when the doors immediately opened. He caught my surprised look. "I was taught to always escort a lady to her door. Besides," he smirked, "my mother would somehow find out I didn't live up to her teachings, and truthfully, she's the only person in this world I'm a little bit afraid of."
"You're afraid of your mom?" I couldn't imagine Holt being afraid of anyone.
He chuckled and winked at me. "You wouldn't know it to look at her. She's shorter than you and comes across as pretty and sweet. But if you get her feathers riled up, look out. She's got every bit of a Scottish red-headed temper and has no issues taking someone to task, especially her children. But she loves us just as fiercely."
I was quiet, struck by his words. I wondered what it would be like to have a mother like that. He claimed she scared him, but his words were spoken with affection, not fear.
I unlocked my door and began to thank him, but stopped as I saw him rock on his feet with his hands in his pockets. If I didn't know better, I would swear he didn't want to leave. "W...would you like to come inside? It's still raining, and there's no need --"
"Sure." He quickly stepped past me.
Well, call me confused as a cow on Astroturf. Was that relief I saw on his face?
10
Holt
