Page 18 of Falling for the Beast

“My father and I weren’t exactly close if you know what I mean.” That was an understatement. He’d hated his father for most of his life.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Water under the bridge.”

She reached out and took his hand, almost tentatively, and squeezed it. The touch of her skin sent his heart into overdrive. He needed to get away from her. He squeezed her hand and then pulled away.

Aribelle’s lips pulled down into a frown. “Evelyn says your father died in an accident. That must have been difficult.”

She had no idea. “Yes.”

“Do you have any other family?”

“No. It’s just me.”

Sadness filled her eyes. “I know how you feel. My father passed away a couple of months ago. He was all I had. And now…” Her voice trailed off, and tears filled her eyes.

He suddenly felt like a jerk, being so obsessed with his own circumstances, not even once considering Aribelle might be going through something difficult. He put his arm around her and pulled her close. “I didn’t realize. I’m sorry.”

She buried her face in his chest and let out a choking sob. He rubbed her back, soaking in the feeling of her in his arms. She sniffed and pulled back, wiping at her eyes. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be a crybaby. It’s still fresh, you know?”

“I understand.” The pain she held in her gaze made his heart ache. He wanted to take it away like he had her injuries, but that was beyond his power. He brushed off a tear with the back of his fingers.

“My mother left when I was in grade school. It was only me and pops, but he never made me feel like I was missing out. He was there for every softball game. He came to my school plays and always supported me. I never felt like I was less than the other kids.”

“Sounds like a wonderful man.” So different from his own father, who hadn’t bothered to take off work for anything his son did, not even for his high school graduation. It was only high school, after all.

“He was.” She laid her head on his shoulder.

He knew she was simply finding consolation in him and he shouldn’t take it as anything more, but the electricity coursed through him just the same. Her heart beat loudly in his ears, and her smell intoxicated him. For a small moment, he allowed himself the luxury of holding her, lightly caressing the skin on her arm.

Tomorrow he would tell her the truth, and she would fear him. But today he would sit and let himself enjoy being with her.

Warmth flooded through Aribelle as she snuggled up against Thaddeus. He’d called himself a beast. It broke her heart. She knew he wasn’t what he thought. He helped people. Saved them. She wished he could see himself the way she did.

He wasn’t perfect. She knew that. He snapped at people. But she got the feeling he was curt with her because he was pushing her away. He didn’t want her to know his secret. He was used to pushing people away.

What she had seen in him over the last twenty-four hours was different. He’d taken upon himself incredible pain for her. She would have died if it weren’t for him. And now, here he was, consoling her. He cared about her. A monster wouldn’t do that.

A soft snoring noise came from him and she pulled back to look at him. His head was back against the couch, his eyes closed. She should let him sleep. She looked at his long eyelashes resting on his cheeks. Was he getting more handsome?

She didn’t want to leave his side, but it was getting late. She stared at his face for another moment before leaning closer and gently kissing his cheek.

The wind whistled outside, making the windows rattle. It was getting chilly. She gently guided him until his head hit the pillow and covered him with the blanket. She walked over to the fireplace and opened the flue. She found a box of matches lying on the mantle. She picked up a log and placed it in the ashes. Then she crumpled up a newspaper and lit the match. Thank goodness she’d spent a few winter breaks at her friend’s cabin, or she wouldn’t have known the first thing about starting a fire.

Thaddeus slept, and she felt comfortable enough after his healing that she wandered into the library and perused the books. She’d finished the other one earlier today. There were so many to choose from, she had a hard time deciding. Finally, she picked one that had a bloody knife on the front and settled in the living room recliner to relax. She read until her eyelids grew too heavy and she couldn’t hold the book any longer.

Sunlight streamed in the window when she awoke, and she looked over at Thaddeus. The couch was empty. The kitchen was empty as well, and she almost panicked until she heard the shower turn on upstairs. He felt well enough to clean himself up. That had to be a good sign, right?

She started breakfast in the kitchen. When he came downstairs, he was sporting another hoodie, but he’d kept the hood down this time. The cut across his forehead was mostly healed. Only a small scab remained. She smiled at him and flipped the pancake she was cooking. “You’re looking better.”

He leaned against the counter beside her. “Almost myself again.”

She gave him a sidelong glance. “You had me worried.”

He frowned. “You should not worry for me, Belle.”

The familiar nickname pricked at her heart. She scooped up the pancake with the spatula and put it the stack. “My father used to call me Belle.” She blinked back the gathering moisture in her eyes.

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