Page 10 of Falling for the Beast

“Someday I hope to be a writer,” she said, trying to draw more out of him.

“Someday? Why not today?”

“Well, I don’t even have my degree yet.” She looked down to the wooden floor. “I’ve been taking online classes, but with my financial situation, I’ve had to put school on pause while I work.”

A look crossed Thaddeus’s face. “Writers write. It’s what they do. Doesn’t matter if you’ve finished school.” He stood from the chair and started crossing the room.

She stared at him, her mouth open. Who was he to say that? He knew nothing of her life, of her struggles to get her degree. And he dismissed it without so much as a thought? “I was taking classes to better myself and my writing,” she said, trying not to sound snippy.

He stopped by the door, not turning around. “You want to be a better writer? Then write.”

She pressed her lips together to stop herself from saying anything rude. It wasn’t like she hadn’t ever written anything. She had. Granted, it had been years, but she really wanted to focus on school first. And he had no business butting in.

“You can make lunch,” he said before disappearing into the other room.

She wanted to follow after him, tell him he was wrong. But she sat there instead, heat creeping up her neck. Of all the nerve. What did he know about it, anyway? She would start writing when she was ready. And she wasn’t ready yet. He wouldn’t understand because he wasn’t a writer.

She swiped the damp cloth over the shelf she was working on. He could wait until she was done if he wanted lunch. He was a jerk.

A knock on the front door sounded and she froze. Who could be here? She got the impression Thaddeus wasn’t the social type. She set her cloth down and crept over to the doorway. Maybe she could see who was there.

Thaddeus answered the door, speaking in a voice too low for her to hear. A woman’s voice answered. They conversed for a moment, and then he stepped back. Whoever it was, he’d let her in.

Chapter 6

Aribelle almost fell over tryingto catch a glimpse of the mysterious woman who stood talking to Thaddeus. He was standing in the way, so she couldn’t see anything except for some blonde hair. When he didn’t move, she decided it was silly for her to be peeking into the other room, like a child. She was a grown woman who could go talk to another grown woman if she wanted to.

She straightened her back and walked into the living room. As she approached, Thaddeus pointed at her. “This is Aribelle.”

The woman smiled warmly. She looked to be in her late fifties, with platinum blonde hair and laugh lines. She was much shorter than Thaddeus, and he towered over her. “Nice to meet you,” she said. “I’m Evelyn. I come by every Friday.”

She held two reusable bags stuffed full of groceries, and Aribelle took one from her. “Let me help you with these.”

“Thank you.” Evelyn walked toward the kitchen. Aribelle followed, and Thaddeus stayed behind.

When they were out of earshot, she casually asked, “So, you shop for Mr. Walker?”

Evelyn nodded and set her sack down on the counter. “I pick up the essentials. He doesn’t like to go out.”

Intensely curious, Aribelle grabbed a loaf of bread and slid it into place on the shelf. “How long have you known him?”

“Almost all his life.”

Jackpot. She’d found someone who could shed some light on this mystery man she was working for.

Evelyn eyed Aribelle suspiciously. “You’re much younger than his usual hires.”

“The agency said they’d been having trouble filling this position. I’m here on a trial run.”

“Ah.” The suspicion changed into scrutiny for a brief moment before Evelyn turned back to putting away the groceries.

The silence was killing Aribelle, and after a minute she couldn’t stand it anymore. “What happened to him?” she blurted.

Evelyn frowned and lowered her voice. “An accident. He doesn’t like to talk about it. It took his father’s life, and left him—like this.” She pointed to the other room with her chin. “He’s a good man. Just a little…rough around the edges.”

Aribelle didn’t want to start talking about how rough around the edges he was. She was still upset about the way he’d spoken to her about her writing. But she was too curious about him to stop asking questions. “What’s he do at night? On his motorcycle?”

Surprise widened Evelyn’s eyes before she could hide it. She picked up a can of beans and turned away from Aribelle to put it in the cupboard. “I wouldn’t know.”

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