One Bride for Five Brothers

“I’m Arsen.” His eyes met hers and for the first time, she realized how dark they were. To say that Arsen was handsome wouldn’t be right. He was attractive, in a rugged, manly way. She felt her body respond as her eyes went over the close beard that shadowed his jaw, giving him a hard look.

He squinted under his angular eyebrows when he spoke, completely oblivious to the lust that he sparked.

“Is there a cab service that I can call?”

“In Montcove? Are you kidding me?” she replied nervously, immediately feeling self-conscious at being so jumpy.

Arsen was silent again. Contemplating things in his head it seemed.

“I’ll compensate you for the damage to your wall. Here…” He got up to his feet, but then grunted and sat back down on the sofa with a thump and held his ankle with a grimace on his face.

“Are you all right?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just a twisted ankle.”

What else did you expect when you kicked the car? she retorted in her mind, but she could guess that this injury was more than just a twisted ankle judging by the pain on his face. Still, she was clueless on how to handle this situation, eager as she was to get this stranger out of her house.

“I hate to ask you for help, but it seems I have no other choice.” He stared directly into her eyes, and for the first time perhaps she saw a hint of helplessness and… contempt. The kind you see in the face of a man who usually has everything done his way. He spoke up again before she could reply.

“We’re gonna need someone who can tow away that car. I can’t leave it out like that. Do you know someone who can do that?”

Rory remained silent. Is he asking me or commanding me? She wondered if she should just call 911 and be done with all of this.

“Look I’ll reimburse you for this, and for your trouble.” Arsen pulled out his wallet and slammed what looked like about a thousand dollars on the couch. Rory was forced to weigh her options. This is a lot of money and all this man is asking for is a little help. There’s no harm in this, right? She bit her lip.

Rory sat down on the arm of the couch across from him and crossed her arms. Her heart tightened at the stark anguish that flashed on his face.

“I know a mechanic who could do this for you, but I am sure it would take a considerable payout for him to come at this hour.”

“Don’t worry about that. Would you be able to call him now?” Arsen asked in a deep voice that sent chills running down her spine. She nodded and pulled out her cellphone. You are too nice, Rory, too nice.

Walking out to the other room, she decided to call Mike, the mechanic. She certainly would feel calmer if he were around. Considering she had never asked him for help, it didn’t take her much effort to convince Mike to come. Rory chose not to tell him all the details.

It didn’t take long for Mike to arrive either. Once Arsen explained the situation to him calmly, Mike, in his own quiet way, seemed to understand. Clearly, the man had seen a thing or two like this before. Arsen handed him the keys to the Ferrari and five hundred in hundred-dollar bills. Arsen obviously wanted Mike to keep his mouth shut about the incident. Luckily for Arsen, Mike wasn’t the kind of guy that would randomly shoot his mouth off.

Besides, Mike perhaps was excited at the idea of repairing a Ferrari and racking up a tall bill.

“Would you happen to have an iPhone charger?” Arsen asked, once Mike had left.

“No, I’m sorry, I don’t.”

“Dammit! For the life of me, I can’t seem to recall the phone number of anyone I know.” Arsen’s rough voice reeked of frustration.

“Shouldn’t you see a doctor?”

“No. No need for that,” Arsen said, harshly interrupting her. “If you can just bring me some ice and a painkiller of some sort… that’d be fine.” Arsen let out a sigh and sat back on the sofa. Jeez, be more arrogant, she thought.

By the time she found the meds, the ice pack, and got back to the living room, Arsen had already passed out and was asleep on the couch. The thousand dollars lay right where he had left it, along with his wallet. Rory walked up to him and nudged him gently, but the man was in a deep slumber.

His face was calm, devoid of the heat that she had seen in his eyes before. Her hands instinctively reached out to brush his long hair off of his face, but she quickly stopped herself. At close quarters, this man didn’t seem as intimidating as before but endearingly human and vulnerable. Even while asleep, his presence was enormous.

The idea of a strange man sleeping in her house annoyed her, but how could she throw an injured man out on the road? Especially one as handsome as this. What’s the worst he can do? Steal something? Besides what is there to steal? And he just threw down more cash than I’ve ever seen.

After running the situation in her mind for a few minutes, Rory decided that this Ferrari-driving playboy wasn’t in a state to do her any harm. She decided to leave the ice pack and the medicine on the side table next to him.

Safety first, she thought as she locked the door from the inside of the house so that the only area accessible to him would be the outer living room and the porch. Then she decided to head to bed herself. All this activity had been stressful, and she felt mentally exhausted.

As much as she tried, she couldn’t get much sleep that night. A couple of times she even got up to see if he was still there and he was, still sleeping on the couch in his expensive clothes. As she looked at him through the living room window, she pondered about his troubles. Yes, he had ruined her night and her wall—which annoyed her to no end—but strangely enough she found herself feeling rather curious about this man.