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“Nothing. Are you going to tell me what the hell you’re doing?”
“Well, I’ve got a couple of guys cleaning up the yard and several more painting the house. Blake and I are going to work on the rotten boards on the porch, and—”
“Maybe I need to be clearer. Why . . . the hell . . . are . . . you . . . here?”
He gave her that knock-her-on-her-ass grin. “Because once a week, we do some form of outreach service in the community. Sometimes we take the kids and their dogs to local senior centers or we pick up trash in the park. Today, we’re going around to random houses in need of repairs.”
“Random?” Violet seethed with humiliation. Random my ass. “And how did my house become random?”
The jerk had the nerve to look exasperated, as if she was insulting him. “You ever been told not to look a gift horse in the mouth?”
“Except I don’t need your horse or your charity.” As she glanced around the yard, a hopeful thought struck her through every other emotion boiling up inside her. “Is Casey here?”
“No. Work detail goes by seniority; it’s a way for kids with longer sentences to earn privileges.” His tone held a touch of apology as he added, “If it were up to me, I would have brought him, but it would have looked like favoritism. And I know you’re worried about people talking.”
His reasoning made sense, even if she was disappointed. Although, if he was really worried about people talking, then he wouldn’t have picked her house for this field trip.
Especially since she’d been perfectly clear about not needing his help.
“As much as I appreciate your thoughtfulness, I really must decline your work detail. My house is fine just the way it is.”
“Really? Because this porch is on the verge of becoming a death trap. How are you going to pay for someone’s medical bills, let alone a lawsuit if someone falls through the planks?”
His bluntness raised Violet’s hackles, and she ground her teeth together painfully. “You’re an ass.”
“I’ve been called worse, usually when I’m right.” As if he didn’t give a damn either way, he shrugged. “I guess if you really don’t want us here, you could always call the cops. You might manage to get us shut down, and then all the kids we help would go back to juvie, including your brother, and all the dogs would be euthanized, but if you feel that strongly about it . . . ”
Violet battled the urge to scream at him. For ten years she’d been handling everything for her family and doing her best. And now Dean swooped in with his hero complex and proved that she wasn’t good enough.
That all her fears about failing her siblings were spot on.
God, if she didn’t escape back inside she was going to break down and bawl again. Which was exactly why she should avoid the man, even in her dreams; every time they had a run-in, she ended up an emotional wreck.
“Do whatever you want. It’s not like I can stop you.”
She turned on her heels and headed back inside, slamming the door behind her so hard it shook the whole house.
Climbing back into her bed, she pulled the covers over her head and sucked in several shaking breaths.
Stop behaving like a child hiding out in her room. Piece your pride back together and tell them to get the fuck off your property or pitch in and help. You cannot stay in here all day.
Violet didn’t agree. Staying in her room sounded like an excellent idea.
DEAN STARED AT the closed door, the eyes of his charges and Blake burning holes in his back. If they hadn’t heard the exchange, Violet’s dramatic exit would have been clue enough that they weren’t wanted there.
Damn it, why did she have to be so stubborn? His olive branch definitely hadn’t worked out the way he’d hoped. He’d expected a little resistance at first, but ultimately, he’d figured she’d see it was all in good faith.
Why the hell had she flown off the handle?
Just let it go, man. Just go about fixing the place and let her cool down.
But no one had ever accused Dean of being smart.
“I’ll
be right back,” Dean called to Kline as he opened the front door and walked inside. He headed through the living room and knocked on the closed door by the stairs, taking a chance that it was Violet’s room and not Daisy’s.
“Go away.” Violet’s voice was muffled, and he ignored her.
