Page 5 of Falling for the Beast

As she cleaned, she counted the rooms. Four bedrooms and four bathrooms. The master bedroom was obviously Thaddeus’s room. His clothes were strewn about, but the bed didn’t look like he’d slept in it for quite some time. Where did he usually sleep, in the recliner?

One of the rooms upstairs was an office. What did he do for a living? Must be something he could do from home. But as messy as he left the other rooms in the house, his office was eerily neat. No papers were strewn around the room. Nothing on the desk other than a computer monitor and keyboard. They looked brand new.

She finished sweeping and returned the broom to the closet. After dusting all the upstairs rooms, she went into his bedroom and picked up his clothes and put them in the overflowing hamper. She grabbed it and lugged it down the steep stairs. She found the laundry room and started sorting the clothes.

She imagined she was Cinderella, doing the work her evil stepmother forced upon her. It made her smile to think that someday she’d find a Prince Charming and leave this dreary life behind.

Thaddeus appeared in the doorway. The cut on his forehead had been cleaned up and he’d washed the blood from his hand. He glared at her. “Did I tell you to do the laundry?”

Man, he was worse than an evil stepmother. She swallowed a retort and shook her head. “I’m sorry, I just thought—”

“You’re not here to think. You’re here to do what I tell you.”

His words stung, and she blinked back the gathering tears. She would not cry in front of him, no matter how mean he was to her. She squared her shoulders and stared into his eyes. “What would you like me to do?”

His gaze fell to the floor, and it almost looked like he was ashamed for how he had spoken to her. “You can make lunch.”

She nodded, swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat. “What would you like?”

He turned his back to her. “Make whatever you want.”

When he was gone, she marched into the pantry and opened up the cupboards. After rummaging for a minute, she pulled out a container of Kung Pao noodles and sauce that boasted it could be ready in two minutes. She knew she could handle that. If he wanted anything fancy, he was out of luck.

She made the meal and dished it out onto a plate. She set it on the dining room table with a fork and then went to find Mr. Walker. He was back in his recliner. “Your lunch is ready, sir.”

He nodded and attempted to right his chair, only it looked like he was in too much pain to move the lever. Her first thought was to rush to his side and help him, but she remembered the last time she’d done that and refrained. He used too much force and the footrest slammed down.

He stood, winced, and walked to the table. After he was seated, she asked, “What would you like to drink?”

“Water is fine,” he said without looking up, that blasted hoodie covering his head again.

“Sure,” she said, turning toward the kitchen.

When she set his glass down in front of him, he peered up at her. “You didn’t make enough for yourself? What are you going to eat?”

The question almost made her gape at him, and she forced herself to not look startled. “I was going to eat the lunch I brought. In my car.” She motioned toward the door.

“Well bring it in here. Seems stupid to have you eat out in your car.” He put his head back down.

Was he really suggesting they eat lunch together? What a ludicrous thought. But she couldn’t refuse him. He might blow up again. “All right.”

Aribelle walked out to her car and grabbed her sack lunch from the cooler. This was going to be quite awkward. She placed the lunch on the other side of the table and sat down, her chair scraping the floor in loud protest.

He nodded and picked up his fork. She guessed that meant it was time to eat. She took the contents out of her sack and placed them on the table. One orange, a ham sandwich, a baggie with two Oreo cookies, and a juice pouch.

Thaddeus stopped, his fork frozen in mid-air. “That’s your lunch?”

She bristled. “Yes.”

He set his fork down with a clank and for a moment she thought he was going to yell at her. But instead, his shoulders started shaking and she realized he was laughing. Soon his chuckles became audible, and she frowned.

“What’s so funny?”

He pointed at her food with his bandaged hand, still shaking with laughter. “You eat like a six-year-old,” he managed to say.

Her mouth fell open in shock. No words would come out at first. Was he making fun of her sack lunch? But soon his laughter filled the room and she couldn’t help but smile. It was a little funny, she supposed. A grown woman drinking from a juice pouch.

His mouth cracked into a huge grin, his laughter deep and contagious. As she stared at him, she realized he was a handsome man. Yes, he was covered in scars, but if she looked past them, she could see he was good-looking.

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