Page 28 of Taming Grumpy Dr. Beast
Now where would they keep the tea?
I opened the cabinet to the right of the stove. The only things housed in this section were mugs, fancy ceramic and glass mugs filled shelves. I gently grabbed a delicate ivory mug with an embossed rose pattern. My fingers lightly danced over the floral details before I set it down on the counter in front of me.
Now I wondered what was in the next cabinet and how it was arranged. Smiling, I reached for the curved steel handle.
“Can I help you find something?” Dr. Beast asked.
I spun around and screamed. “Oh, my God! Don’t ever do that again.” My hand rubbed the spot over my heart while I took deep breaths to calm my shaky nerves.
I heard his voice, but couldn’t see him. Where was he?In the dim light of the room, I finally spotted his large frame sitting at the breakfast nook.
“I wasn’t the one sneaking around,” he responded with what I imagined was a barely restrained smirk pulling at his lips.
“I certainly wasnotsneaking around.” Heat infused my cheeks at my little white lie.
“Mmm,” he hummed noncommittally.
“I wasn’t.” I peered into the darkness. “What are you doing up this late?”
A chair scraped against the floor a moment before the lights turned on, blinding me. I squinted until my eyes focused on Dr. Beast standing next to the table. Without answering my question, he sighed and gestured toward a plate of cookies on the kitchen island. “Midnight snack? Since you’re up anyway.”
“Oh, what kind?”
“Chocolate chip.” He stared at the plate as though it held the secrets of the world. I couldn't tell if he was doing it to avoid me, or if he was debating whether he should grab the cookies and make a run for it. I stifled a giggle imagining this huge, grumpy man running off with the plate of cookies held high.
“That sounds good,” I responded just to fill the silence in the room.
“They are.” He picked up the plate. “So do you want any?”
It was weird, he was almost acting nice to me. Then I remembered what Angela said about him being the one to send dinner to my room. “Sure. Thanks.”
He held the plate out, not moving any closer.
I scurried forward and took two cookies off the ivory plate that matched the mug I grabbed from the cabinet. Not able to help myself, I took a bite and groaned. “This issogood.”
He stared at me until I squirmed under the intensity of his gaze. He probably wasn’t used to being around girls that enjoyed food.
Before I could second guess myself, I snagged two more cookies off the plate. I waved one cookie in his direction and mumbled, “Thanks. I guess I should head back to my room. Morning will be here before we know it, and it’ll be time to get started on the book. And ...” I trailed off, not sure what else to say to him.
He stared at me blankly, not helping contribute to the conversation at all.
“Thanks again.” I hurried out of there before it got any more awkward, and headed back to my bedroom.
Damn. I forgot about the tea.
***
ISTRETCHED MY NECKfrom side to side, letting my wrists rest for a moment in between typing. I’d been up, dressed, and working since 6:30 a.m. That was two hours ago.
Whenever I started a new job, I wrote up a report for the client to preview the work I’d do and my estimated timeline. Glancing over at the book, now safely back under its glass dome, I studied the red rot encompassing the front and back cover. That could easily take me several days to contain, in addition to restoring the rips in the pages and saving as much of the old cover as I could.
All that was left was to order supplies. I’d brought the basics with me and could start treating the red rot, removing the cover, and fixing the torn pages, but I needed to order the leather to make a new cover and see how much of the old one I could save.
My stomach growled.
“Ah, then this is perfect timing,” Angela said from the office outside of the rare book collection.
I squeaked in surprise as her head popped into view with the same cart she’d brought to my room the night before. The smell of eggs and bacon drifted over to me. Breakfast was easily my most favorite meal of the day, especially when someone else was cooking.
