The Breakers Chapter 8

~~~~OOO~~~~OOO~~~~

Chapter 8

BPOV

Squawk! Squawk!

I groan and pull a pillow over my head, trying to block out the God-awful sound. When I hear it again, I huff then throw the pillow toward the open window, barely missing having it tumble over the windowsill.

I roll over and open my eyes. As soon as I do, I realize what day it is.

Sunday.

Dinner with Edward Sunday.

Edward coming to my house and spending time Sunday.

A slow smile spreads across my face and my stomach flutters at the thought that in a few hours he'll be here … with me and Peyton.

For over four years, there haven't been many men in my house that weren't friends or family. On a rare occasion, Emmett or Seth will bring a guy with them that works on one of the other boats or someone they've met hanging out in the bar in town, but that's it. I've been on some dates, nothing that led to much of anything, mostly because I've sworn that I'm not risking mine or Peyton's happiness on a fling that has no hopes of going anywhere. I tried dating a couple of times and once pretty seriously with a man that spent the summer in Corea on a mission to find himself. In the end, we wound up going our separate ways when he found himself missing the big city he tried to get away from way more than he wanted to be with me … and Peyton.

A few make-out sessions, a few orgasms, sex with one guy in the seven years since Evan died is all there's been. Nothing earth-shattering, and always more about feeling desirable and physical release than anything else. It's not the easiest way to go through life by any means. It makes keeping an alternative means of releasing pent-up sexual frustrations in the drawer of my nightstand a necessity, but it's the hand I've been dealt, so I've learned to live with it.

Thinking about Edward and sex at the same time is definitely not the smartest thing to do, so I try to push all thoughts about the latter to the back of my mind. It's not particularly easy, especially with someone that looks the way he does. The man's a walking billboard for all things tall, dark, and handsome, but there's so much more to him than that. I don't know him all that well, in fact, hardly at all, but anyone that can bring out that smile on my daughter the way he does has to be more than just a pretty face.

And Lord in Heaven, what a pretty face it is. From his kaleidoscope eyes, to his sharp, angular jaw, and his nose, that even though it has a slight bump on it, is perfect on him. Eyelashes that any woman would kill for - not to mention his lips, that though are always turned up in a smart-assed smirk whenever he talks to me, make me want to grab his red, gold, and blond-streaked hair and pull him against me. Even the scar on his neck, which on anyone else would be off-putting, on him it just … works.

Everything on him works.

And well.

Squeezing my eyes closed and pressing my thighs tightly together, I run my hands over my stomach hoping it will calm the swarm of butterflies currently trying to make a break for it.

I'd be a fool not to realize that there's obviously an attraction between the two of us; it's been there since the first day I saw him … and ran out of the restaurant like a scared rabbit - the second time, too. Thankfully he came after me and I pulled my head out of my ass. There's still such a mystery surrounding him, so many unanswered questions, but he's making an effort to put himself out there; I figure the least I can do is to dip my pinky toe in the water. Baby steps and all. I know I'm not ready to take the floaties off, but I can at least try to swim in the shallow end.

As scary as it is to think about, I'm kind of excited to imagine what the deep end looks like.

After I go over the menu for dinner for the umpteenth time in my head, I decide it's time to get up and make sure Peyton's awake. We have Mass to get ready for and then I have to come home and get started on dinner. I don't know what possessed me to want to cook such a time-consuming meal, maybe a bit of showing off, but the meal will take the better part of the afternoon to prepare.

~~~~OOO~~~~OOO~~~~

"Mom, how much longer?" Peyton asks, more like whines, after we finish lunch and she looks at the clock … again.

"Baby, I told you. Edward will be here at five, so you're just going to have to find something to keep yourself busy until he gets here."

"Fine. I'm going outside." She mopes and I have to laugh when the back screen door slaps closed behind her.

Once the dishes from our very light lunch are put away, I turn on the iPod on the docking station. The front door is open, as is the back, along with numerous windows. The temperature today is in the high 60s and the sun's shining brightly. I can't help but giggle just a bit at how utterly perfect everything seems in this moment. Warm summer breeze blowing through the house, Peyton happily playing in the backyard, my favorite music filling the air, and getting ready to spend a few hours in the kitchen.

Because Dad and the guys don't go out in the boat on Sundays, The Breakers is closed for the day. It's always been that way. My mom says it's so we can all enjoy time away from the restaurant; I know it's so she can stay at home during football season and watch my dad. It's quite a sight to behold. I've never minded the free day and never more so than today. For the first time in a very long time, I have something besides movies on Lifetime to keep me occupied.

The soulful, raspy voice of Adele spills from the kitchen and my fingers twitch to get to work. Yesterday morning before I had to be at work, Peyton and I made a quick trip to Ellsworth to get some of the things I needed for today's dinner. I decided to go with a Japanese menu, hoping beyond hope that Edward would appreciate something a bit more exotic. We'll follow dinner with mint chocolate chip ice cream, thanks to Peyton being able to add knowing what his favorite dessert is to her never-ending list of things to remember about him.

Time passes quickly as I chop and slice vegetables and thin strips of beef. I have my head buried in the refrigerator looking for the bottle teriyaki sauce that's been pushed all the way to the back of the second shelf, hidden behind the mayonnaise, when I hear, "Nice view, Bell. Thanks for the ass picture."

The voice startles the shit out of me, especially because I might've been wiggling my hips just a bit to Rolling in the Deep. I bang my head when I jump. Pulling myself out of the fridge I turn around, glaring at the smart ass.

"Don't you know it's rude to just barge into a house without knocking first, Rose?" I'm cradling the marinade in my arm and continue rubbing the sore spot on my head all while scowling at my amused sister-in-law.

"Like you could hear me over the music and from inside the refrigerator anyway." She grins and then cocks her head to the side as she surveys the island and the counters. "I thought dinner was just going to be you, Edward, and Peyton … or did I miss an invitation somehow?"

I snort and then set the bottle on the island. "I might have gone a little overboard," I admit sheepishly.

"A little? Bella, you have enough food to feed half of Corea in here," she says with an indulgent shake of her head.

She's exaggerating … but honestly not by much. If anything, maybe only an eighth of the population of Corea – a quarter, tops.

I huff a bit and turn away from her, suddenly very interested in picking out the perfect carrot to slice for the steamed dumplings I'm making for appetizers.

Really, it's not that much food: Steamed dumplings filled with ground pork, cabbage and carrots mixed with soy sauce and served with dipping sauces. Thinly-sliced beef rolled with scallions then broiled. Vegetable tempura with sweet potatoes, broccoli, and eggplant. Then the main course of braised beef short ribs and salmon teriyaki with sushi rice served with a salad and ginger dressing. And of course, mint chocolate chip ice cream for dessert.

Going through the list, I cringe a bit only because it does seem like a lot of food, especially for just the three of us. I really do want to show off a bit and do something he won't expect. Between the seafood at the restaurant, which really doesn't ever get old, and the dinners Esme feeds him, I want to fix him something he'll remember.

"It's nice to see you so excited about something that doesn't have to do with Peyton for a change," Rose says and her voice has lost all traces of the teasing from just a moment ago.

I slowly turn around and lean against the counter. "It's just dinner, Rose."

"It's more than that and both you and I know it," she answers back immediately.

Rolling my eyes at her very true statement, I say, "Hold off on sending out the invitations to the wedding, sis."

She leans over the counter and rests on her elbows. "Bella," she starts then stops as she weighs her next words. "The fact that you've even invited Edward to come have dinner with you is a huge deal."

"I only asked him to come over for Peyton," I straight up lie to her.

Rose, of course, throws her head back and lets out a very unladylike but totally Rose-like laugh before she stares at me with narrowed eyes and a calculating smirk on her face. Bitch. She knows me way too well. "Yeah, keep trying to sell that line, Bell, because I'm not buying it." After a few seconds of silence she says, "It's okay to be excited."

I shrug my shoulders at her and turn around, but don't say anything. There are too many thoughts racing around in my mind and I know if I open my mouth, things I'd rather not say will come spilling out. Rose has always had an uncanny knack for getting me to talk when I don't want to … it's been that way since I had my first crush on Travis Hughes in the second grade. I made the mistake of trying to hide it from her until she cornered me one day on the playground at recess. By the time we went back to class, Travis knew all about my crush because Rose gave him a bloody nose when I told her he'd been mean to me in gym class.

"Don't do this, Bella." Rose's voice is sad … so very, very sad.

I whip around and throw my hands up in the air. "Rose, stop … just please, stop," I tell her, my voice laced with so much frustration.

"Bell," she begins but I hold my hand up to stop her from saying anything else.

"I know you mean well and I know you love me, but I can't handle this right now." My voice shakes and I have to take a few deep breaths in and out before I can go on. "Just let me do this my way, Rose, okay? I don't need you and Alice interfering and plotting behind my back. I don't need Emmett giving me advice or Jasper breathing down my neck. I barely know Edward, so I don't need you all rushing me into things I'm not ready for before we even spend more than a few minutes together. Hell, for all I know, he really might just want to hang out with Peyton and I'm merely a means to an end."

She snorts at that comment and I roll my eyes at her even though on the inside my stomach is doing a tiny happy dance because I know that's not what's happening as much as she does. Sure, Edward thinks Peyton is the best thing next to mint chocolate chip ice cream, but I'm not blind either.

I may like to live with my head buried in the sand, but I'm not an idiot. I've seen the way he looks at me, as if he's trying to memorize everything about me, like I might disappear in front of his eyes. I've felt the way my heart stutters then races when he walks into the restaurant. I feel the ache between my legs when I remember what it felt like when I hugged him on the beach the other night. Not my finest moment by any stretch of the imagination, but he sure as hell didn't seem to mind.

It might be longer than I care to admit since I've last been with a man, and certainly not with anyone that looks the way Edward does. My body reacted instantly the moment it was pressed up against his, right down to the surge of moist heat between my legs, the nipples that pebbled against his chest, and to my fingers that practically ached from wanting to touch him anywhere … everywhere.

My physical response to him scares the everliving shit out of me, only because I've never had this reaction to anyone before. Not Evan, not Kyle, my one failed attempt at trying to have a so-called boyfriend in all these years - not to any of the guys that Alice and Rose have tried to set me up with from time to time. Not one of them has made me feel what he does and it's terrifying.

I know next to nothing about him. I can't imagine anyone that can relate to and connect with a seven-year-old the way he has can be all bad. I'm sure there are things he's hiding or running from, there has to be, but I've decided to get to know him before I pass judgment. Hell, what I am trying to move past seems like Mount Doom in The Lord of the Rings … whatever he's working through can't be any worse than what I am.

God, please don't let it be worse.

I'm taking a chance on Edward, even if he doesn't know or realize it yet. Peyton is totally enamored with him and she'd be so completely devastated if he all of a sudden up and disappeared. I have to tread so very carefully, taking just the tiniest of baby steps. Her heart is too precious to be careless with and I won't allow anything to hurt her if I can help it. She's all I have, she's what matters most, and Edward will have to accept that if he's at all interested in anything past friendship.

"Rose," I say and this time my voice is soft and calm. "Let me just get to know the man. Let me have a friend that hasn't known me since I was missing my two front teeth or was there when Spencer Kelley kissed me in the middle of the cafeteria in fifth grade, okay? You know how freaked out I was when Edward first got here. I didn't give him a fair chance then so we're starting over. Just … give me some time to figure out what he wants and what I want. Like I said, it's only dinner."

She sighs then looks at me with a scowl on her face, one that quickly morphs into the smile she's been trying to fight. "Fine, Bell, you win. You can't blame me for being excited for you, though."

"Fair enough." I look around at all the food on the counters and start to laugh. "Damn, this really is a lot of food, isn't it?"

"Told you." She snickers. "Tell me what I can do to help. Emmett's with Charlie watching the baseball game on TV so I have a few hours to fill."

I place a pile of sweet potatoes in front of her and hand her a peeler. "I see how it is; I'm just the backup when Em's busy."

I'm totally teasing but Rose's face falls and when she gasps then looks at me, her eyes are wide and fearful. "You don't really feel that way, do you?"

Sighing, I throw my arm over her shoulder and kiss the side of her cheek. I won't lie to her though. I don't work that way, not even to spare her feelings. "At times," I tell her and then shush her when she opens her mouth. "But, I get it. Em's your husband and your main priority, just like Peyton's mine. I know ..." I sigh again and squeeze her to me. "I know I haven't made it easy on the rest of you either to include me when you do things."

"Well," she says as she bumps my hip with hers. "Now that you and Edward are both the single ones, that won't be such an issue anymore. Now will it?"

I growl and then laugh, glad that the heaviness from before is gone.

We spend the next little bit catching up until I've done everything I can do ahead of time. I glance at the clock and my heart starts doing that stutter/race thing it does whenever I think about Edward. Rose chuckles, and as soon as she opens her mouth to no doubt say something totally inappropriate, Peyton comes flying through the back door and flings herself straight toward her aunt.

"Aunt Rose!" Peyton squeals.

She's … a mess. Leaves and twigs in her hair, grass stains on her knees, a smudge of dirt across her cheek. In other words, totally Peyton.

Rose squishes her nose at Peyton though the absolute adoration she has for her is as plain as day on her face. At twenty-nine, she's certainly not too old to have a baby, but all of us wish she'd just get on with it already. It's not that she and Emmett don't want kids, but they're very happy with the way things are right now. I know, because Rose told me, that once her current birth control prescription runs out, she's going off them and then they'll just see what happens. Both of them will make fantastic parents so I'm hoping she gets pregnant right away.

"P, what in the world were you doing out there?" Rose asks as she plucks a leaf from Peyton's rat nest imitation.

I can't help but laugh when Peyton's eyes dance with unbridled glee. Hopping up on the counter, I give Rose a look to let her know she might as well get comfortable … this is liable to take awhile.

I'm not wrong. Fifteen minutes later and Rose's eyes have glazed over and she looks like she's just had a brain meltdown.

"You okay there, Rose?" I chuckle as I hop off the counter and onto the floor.

"Shit," I mutter when I look at the clock, then cringe a bit when Peyton grins at me. "Yes, Miss Smarty Pants, that means an extra helping of dessert."

Rose snorts and I turn and give her the stink eye. "Ha, ha. I'm officially running behind schedule now, thank you very much. My daughter looks like she just got done wrestling a bear outside, and I still haven't showered or gotten dressed yet!" By the end of my tirade I've worked myself into such a tizzy my heart is racing and both Rose and Peyton are staring at me … and looking rather afraid of me.

Rose narrows her eyes at me before I see the corner of her mouth twist into a smirk. She grabs me by the shoulders and turns me around, pushing me out of the kitchen. "You leave Peyton to me. Go upstairs, take a nice long, hot shower and try to relax. It's just dinner, remember?" she teases in the most smart ass voice she can muster.

I turn to say something, but she shoos me away with her hand. "Go."

As I'm walking up the stairs, I hear her say, "I expect details, Bella. Lots and lots of details."

An hour later, and I'm clean, smooth all over, and as nervous as I've ever been in my life. I stand in front of the mirror in my bathroom and watch myself as I lift a shaking hand to try to put on my mascara. It'd so be just my damn luck to stab myself in the eyeball with the mascara wand.

Somehow I manage to finish, and as I stare at myself in the mirror, I giggle, then clamp my hand over my mouth so that Rose and Peyton don't hear me. That would just add more fuel to the fire as far as Rose is concerned and I really don't need that right now. I try to take a deep breath but seriously, it feels like my heart is going to beat its way right out of my chest and my stomach is tumbling nonstop. I'm pretty sure there's no way I can eat anything I've made for dinner.

"It's just dinner, Bella," I say out loud to my reflection in the mirror, then roll my eyes at my idiotic self. I wonder if I say those words a few hundred more times, I'll believe them any more than I do this time.

I don't really think so.

I hear Peyton laugh from downstairs and figure it's time to get the ball rolling. At this point, there's no telling where it's going to go, but I'm willing to see which direction it's heading.

"Mom, you look so pretty," Peyton says as soon as I reach the bottom step.

"You, too, baby," I tell her, suddenly a bit overwhelmed by everything. The fact that the two of us dressed up for Edward isn't lost on me and sort of makes this a much bigger deal than I want it to be. I don't want him to be nervous, either; I just want to us to have a nice time and hopefully get to know each other a bit more.

Really, Peyton's not any more dressed up than she would be if we were going out to eat or something. Just a cute pair of plaid shorts and a polo shirt. The fact that her hair is brushed and neatly put up in a ponytail means she's made more of an effort than usual.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Rose try to sneak her phone back in her pocket. "Rosalie Swan, did you just take my picture?" I ask with as evil a glare as I can manage, especially when I hear her giggle.

"Sorry, Bell, but this is too good to pass up. Alice will die when she sees you wearing that dress," she tells me and really, there's no hint of an apology anywhere to be found.

If I wasn't so pressed for time, I might have to kill her. Instead, I huff and walk into the kitchen to make sure things are ready to go.

I know I should have just put on a pair of jeans and a tank top or something instead of a sundress. It's nothing too fancy, just a white dress with some bright red flowers with a few hints of black mixed in. It's been sitting in my closet since last summer when Alice informed me on a shopping trip in Bar Harbor that I just had to buy it … even though I had nowhere to wear it. I left my hair down, and spent about thirty minutes making it as straight as I could get it. The pair of flip-flops I'm wearing I hope will make the dress seem less 'dressy' and more comfortable than anything.

I am so out of practice at all this and Rose taking pictures isn't helping things … at all.

"I'm going to head out so that you don't have time to kill me before Edward gets here," Rose says with a grin as she leans on the doorway to the kitchen.

I snort and shoot her a dirty look before I smile. I can't help it. "I'm excited and nervous and I think I might go change my clothes," I spit out.

"Bella, calm down. You look beautiful, dinner is going to be delicious, and you'll have fun. Just sit back and enjoy it. Stop worrying so damn much," she tells me then kisses me on the cheek. "Besides, Peyton's here to run interference for you if you need it. Call me tomorrow, Bell, first thing, or else I'll come get you for work instead of Xavier. You really don't want that happening."

And with that, she's out the door before I have a comeback.

"Mom, do you think Edward will want to play Madden Football or FIFA Soccer?" Peyton asks from the living room before I have time to give into the full-fledged panic attack that's simmering just beneath the surface.

When I walk into the room, she looks so excited, bouncing up and down on her bare feet and waving the game boxes back and forth in the air. Just seeing her so happy immediately puts me at ease and I vow to sit back and let the night go like it's going to go.

"P, video games are your domain, so I'll leave that up to you. Maybe you'll have time to play both if Edward's up to it," I tell her.

"He is," I hear.

Holy shit.

My heart skids to a stop then races so fast I gasp for a breath.

"Edward!" Peyton squeals and drops the boxes on the floor. In a flash she's skipped across the room, flung the front screen door open, and thrown herself at him before he has time to say another word.

He lifts her up and gives her a hug. Her legs swing around as he moves from side to side and when his eyes find mine over her head, I realize how happy I am that he's here.

"Hey, Bella." His chocolaty-caramel voice washes over me and my mouth waters. Damn caramel turtles.

"Hi, Edward." I can feel my cheeks heat up and I pray that damn blush hasn't spread to my chest like I know it probably has.

"And you," he teases when he looks at Peyton. "What did I hear you say? Something about playing football or soccer?"

She wiggles out of his arms and drags him by the hand toward the television where she has everything all set up and ready to go. "Mom said we'd have time to play before dinner, so what do you want to play first? And do you like Japanese food? Mom's made all this stuff for us to eat but I don't like the eggplant but I promised her I'd try it. Oh, and wait until I tell you what I did today when I was waiting for you to get here. I think I freaked out Aunt Rose."

Peyton giggles when she stops to take a breath, and well, I laugh, too, but only because the look on Edward's face is almost identical to the one Rose had on hers before.

"Can I get you something to drink?" I ask him when he finally looks like he's regained some sense of equilibrium after Peyton's whirlwind.

"That'd be great. Whatever you're having is fine." He shuffles a bit and looks so adorkably awkward and nervous I have to tease him just a bit.

"You look like you could use a stiff drink but lemonade is the choice of the moment, unless you'd prefer water?" I smirk at him and feel myself relax when he takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his hair.

A flash of inked skin peeks out from beneath the arm of his gray t-shirt and I have to swallow back the moan that desperately wants to come out. I've never been one to like tattoos, at all, but after seeing them on Edward, well bits and pieces at any rate, it's making me have second thoughts about that.

Of course it's probably just Edward having tattoos that I like.

When I look at him again and see the black ink slip back under his shirt, I know it's definitely because it's Edward.

Our eyes meet and today his are the sea glass green color I love so much. Having spent a bit more time with him, I think I have an idea what the different colors of his eyes mean and I know that the gray-green I see now means he's happy. I couldn't be more grateful about that.

"You're right about the stiff drink, but lemonade sounds great," he tells me.

"Me, too, Mom," Peyton follows with while she's busy getting the XBOX all set up.

"Coming right up. We'll be ready to eat in about an hour. Is that okay?" I ask him.

I can't believe how nervous I am. From the looks of it, he doesn't seem much better. His eyes haven't stopped darting around the room, but he nods almost absentmindedly at my question about dinner. I know for a fact if Peyton weren't here, it would be a hundred times worse for both of us. Realizing that, I take a deep, shaky breath and force myself to calm down.

Peyton pulls him down on the couch and begins giving him instructions on how to work the controllers. I laugh and shake my head as I head back toward the kitchen. Poor guy, he looks positively clueless, which I find a bit odd because I assume that all guys know how to play video games. I swear I think Em, Jasper, Xavier, and Seth have controllers permanently attached to their hands as often as they play. By the time I set two glasses of lemonade on the coffee table in front of them, the battle to be Ruler of All Things Madden for the day has begun.

Before I even make it back to the kitchen, I hear, "Oh, Edward, you're so going down."

He doesn't stand a chance.

I've been in the kitchen for about twenty minutes and I'm taking the rolled beef and scallions out from under the broiler when I hear Peyton and Edward talking.

"Edward," she says softly. The tone of her voice has completely changed and for some reason my stomach twists itself into a pretzel. "Where are your mom and dad?"

I gasp and slap an oven-mitted hand over my mouth. I'm hurrying to the living room to save Peyton or Edward, I'm not sure which, and am about to step out of the kitchen when I hear Edward sigh.

"What do mean?" His voice isn't angry, instead it's patient, even though it's laced with an untold amount of sadness.

"Well, you moved here all by yourself, so I was just wondering where you used to live. I bet it was someplace really cool, wasn't it?"

The sound of him setting his controller on the table floats through the air and my heart feels like it's in my throat as I lean my head against the wall and wait for him to answer. I debate interrupting by bringing the appetizers to them but I want to … need to … hear what his answer is. I feel pretty damn pathetic in all honesty because my daughter is so much braver than me.

"My parents are both dead, Peyton. They died a long time ago."

She gasps loudly while mine is nearly silent. "How did they ... I mean what happened?" she asks in a quiet, hesitant voice.

My fingers dig into my leg. I can feel the crescent-shaped indentations my nails have made when I run my fingertips back and forth over the marred skin.

"You know I used to live in Boston, right?" he asks and when there's no answer, I assume Peyton is nodding her head at him. "Well, one night when I was a little younger than you, my parents were coming home from dinner and were in a car accident. It was winter and my dad was driving. He lost control of the car and they slid off the road."

I choke back a sob and close my eyes, hoping to keep the tears that want so badly to fall from leaking out. How he managed to tell Peyton that and keep his voice calm, if a bit uneven, I'll never know. I hear a sniff and I push off the wall to go to her, but before I can take a step Edward's already comforting her.

"Hey, now," he says softly as the sound of rustling fills the air. "Don't cry, pretty girl."

"But, but," she hiccups.

"Shhh, Peyton. It's okay." I take a deep breath and slowly poke my head out. What I see nearly makes me come undone. He's pulled Peyton onto his lap and his arms are wrapped completely around her as if to shield her. Her head is tucked beneath his chin and she's curled up against his chest. It's without a doubt, one of the most touching things I've ever seen and something stirs deep inside of me as I watch this man, one that I barely know, comfort my daughter in a way that I'm not sure even Xavier, Emmett, or my dad have ever done.

"What happened to you? I mean where did you go, you know after?" she asks quietly after she sniffs again. "Who took care of you?"

I watch as he shifts her a bit so that she can look at him. His hand runs through her hair and then up and down her arm in the most familiar of motions. Again, how someone who's admitted to not being around children can be so natural at talking to …. relating to her is astounding. It boggles my mind honestly and if I wasn't so sure of how much he cared about Peyton, it would scare the shit out of me.

He kisses her one more time on the side of the head. "My grandparents took me in and I lived with them."

"So you weren't all alone?" she asks in a soft voice.

"No, sweetheart. My grandparents were amazing people and I was very lucky to have them. I was sad for awhile after my mom and dad died, but I don't really remember too much about them now. Bits and pieces mostly."

"My dad died, too, but it was before I was even born," she tells him.

I can tell what she's said has shocked him because his hand stills and his arms tense. His eyes, I can tell even from where I'm still partially hidden, have changed to the color of thunder clouds, imitating his mood. I've stopped breathing. It's been so long since Peyton has brought up Evan and the fact that she's done it now with Edward, without a moment's hesitation, screams louder than words ever could.

She trusts him. Enough to tell him things she rarely talks about with anyone. It's as shocking as it is sweet and tender and my heart breaks and expands at the same time as I watch the two of them bond in a way I wasn't sure she ever would with anyone.

"I'm so sorry, Peyton," he whispers to her.

She shrugs her shoulders. I can't help but smile a bit when she reaches up with a finger and touches the bit of ink on his arm that's visible. "Mom tells me he's watching me from Heaven and that he loves me and is proud of me. Do you think he is, Edward? I mean, I know I'm not always nice and I tell Mom I eat all my vegetables, even when I don't. And sometimes," she lowers her voice and whispers, well, as much as Peyton can whisper, "I trade my carrot sticks for cookies at school. I mean, who would eat a carrot when you can have a chocolate chip cookie?"

I laugh lightly and it mixes with his louder one, though he hears me anyway. Our eyes meet over Peyton's head, just for the briefest of moments, but it's long enough to spark the ember that's been waiting patiently for even the smallest bit of fuel to grow into something more. I smile, hoping he can understand what's happening. When he smiles back, I know he does.

It's way too soon to talk about it, but the fact we both recognize that it's something is all that's necessary for now.

"No one with any sense," he tells her and tweaks the end of her nose. I turn, leaving them to finish their discussion, safe in the knowledge that my daughter is just fine with her best friend.

"Of course your dad is proud of you, sweetheart, and he loves you, too, even if he can't tell you himself. You're a great kid," he tells her and when I hear her shriek and gasp for breath, I assume he's found out just how ticklish she is.

A loud sound sails through the air because Peyton's obviously given him a raspberry. "Thanks, Edward," she says sweetly. "I think he's proud of me, too.

"Bet he'll be even more proud when he sees me beat you at Monopoly after dinner." She giggles and I hear her race up the stairs.

The beef and dumpling appetizers have been plated and I'm getting ready to cook the vegetable tempura when the hair on my arm rises.

"I hope what I said was okay." His voice is tense as is his posture when I turn around and look at him. He's leaning against the side of the island, but his body is rigid and his eyes are searching for any sign that I'm upset with him.

He won't find any.

I set the slotted spoon on the counter and face him. My hands grip the counter behind me and my fingers curl over the sides.

My body feels electrified, but only because he's standing so close, not because I'm angry or upset. If anything, I'm pretty much blown away at how good he is with Peyton.

"You were wonderful with her. She usually doesn't talk about her father to anyone," I tell him and I hope the inflection in my voice lets him know how significant it is that she did so with him.

The surprise on his face, followed by the soft smile, lets me know he does.

He pushes off the side of the island then takes a few steps around so that he's facing me with his back against the edge. His legs are so long that they're on either side of me. As he's so much closer now, I'm able to see his eyes, which are now the same color as the blue-green pieces of sea glass that fill the jar on the windowsill above kitchen sink.

"And you?" he asks quietly, his voice hesitant as if he's afraid to upset me. "Do you talk about him … Evan?"

I gasp. Hearing Edward say Evan's name makes my knees buckle and I close my eyes.

"Shit. Bella, I'm so sorry," Edward says urgently. He steps closer and grabs my hand, holding it tightly in his. His thumb is soothingly rubbing back and forth across my knuckles and it only takes me a second to regain my equilibrium thanks to his sweet and very comforting gesture. I can feel the calluses on his fingers, feel the scabs and scrapes from working on the boat, but even with all that, his hand holding mine feels incredible.

Strength and comfort and calm wash over me and I want to bask in it for hours … days even.

"How did you … " I start to ask and my voice is quiet though much steadier than I would expect, all things considered.

He shifts closer still; our bodies are almost touching. His thumb hasn't stopped its sweeping motion. With his other hand, he brushes my hair back over my right shoulder. The motion is so familiar that it should make me question it, but I don't want to. The edge of his finger ghosts across my bare shoulder and it makes me shiver and warm all over at the same time.

"Charlie and Emmett were talking about him the other day and judging from their reactions, I knew he was someone important. Something told me that it had to do with you, too. After what Peyton said, it just seemed to click." He shrugs his shoulders slightly and there is a pronounced dip between his eyebrows. I want to reach up and smooth it out, but that would mean moving, and I definitely don't want to do that … or have him move either.

It's not lost on me that just a few days ago I didn't want to be in the same room as him, let alone be this close.

We sigh at the same time when the silence becomes slightly uncomfortable and thankfully it eases the tension that was beginning to settle around us.

"This is not how I envisioned things going so far," I admit. I blow a piece of hair out of my face and when I look at him, he's smiling.

"Can I tell you something?" I nod, a tiny bit scared at what he could possibly say. His voice is teasing as are his eyes because they're gleaming wickedly. He bends his head down and his breath fans over my ear, his nose barely grazing my jaw. "I've been a nervous fucking wreck since Friday night just thinking about today."

Those goosebumps from before have returned in full force. My heart's doing that stutter step thing and there isn't any possible way he can't hear it. His voice in my ear, the way his nose keeps skimming over my cheek and jaw has my mind in a jumbled mess. I'm finding it more and more difficult to form even the simplest of coherent thoughts when he's this close to me, so close I can smell the tang of the lemonade he drank earlier in the breath that warms my ear.

"It's all I've been able to think about." Damn that caramel turtle voice. Sinfully smooth and rough at the same time.

"Me, too." My voice is shaky, breathless, and totally unfamiliar.

Damn, what Edward does to me merely by opening his mouth.

He picks his head up and his eyes have somehow darkened but sparkle even more than before. "Yeah?" he asks and quirks his eyebrow, sounding totally pleased with my admission.

I humph and roll my eyes at him, annoyed that I can't help but smile at him. "Yes. Happy now?" I tease.

He lifts his free hand and lightly runs the backs of his fingers down my arm, leaving a wake of molten fire. "Very," he says as he exhales through his nose.

"Edward!" Peyton calls for him and suddenly the mood has changed, which is probably a very good thing considering I feel like I'm about to melt into a puddle of Bella goo right there on the spot.

He doesn't take his eyes off me as he yells, "Be right there." Finally the corner of his mouth lifts and he gives me a lazy, sexy smirk. His hand slips from mine and I'm immediately aware of how much I like him touching me when he's not any longer.

He turns, a bit reluctantly, and picks up one of the dumplings, dipping it in the sauce beside it. "Mmmm," he says in his deep, rough voice. His tongue flicks out and laps up the bit of sauce on his bottom lip. Blue-green eyes flash in my direction again. "Fucking delicious," he murmurs before turning and walking back into the living room.

It's going to be a long night if he keeps that up.

~~~~OOO~~~~OOO~~~~

"Bella, this is so good." Edward moans as he takes another bite of his salmon.

"It is, Mom, but I still don't like eggplant." Peyton pouts as she pops a piece of sweet potato in her mouth.

We've been eating for what feels like hours, and have barely made a dent in all the food that covers the table. Conversation flows fast and furious the entire time we are sitting at the table. Peyton demanded that Edward sit between us so he's spent the meal turning his head back and forth like he's watching a tennis match to pay us equal attention. It's very sweet and pretty funny to watch his head bob from left to right. Every time our eyes meet, or our fingers brush against the other's, mostly on purpose, at least on my part and I'm pretty sure his as well, my stomach flutters. The panties I put on so I could try to feel at least a little sexy get wetter by the minute and I swear on all that's holy if I have dead batteries in my vibrator I will freaking explode … that is if Edward doesn't make me first.

I can't deny that the flirting hasn't been hot as hell and exhilarating as can be, but it's making my body feel like a live wire and my nerves are frayed. Smug, dangerous man knows it, too. His knee has been steadily pressing harder against my leg for the last thirty minutes.

Finally not one of us can eat another bite. I stand to gather the plates when he stops me, laying a warm, strong hand on my arm. "Let me," he says softly. Mutely I nod because I can't really do anything else, not when he looks and sounds like that.

I spend a few minutes in the bathroom washing my hands. Mostly I'm hiding out so that I don't scare the hell out of him when I throw him down on the sofa and climb on top of him so I can kiss him or lick him or touch him the way my body is screaming at me to do.

After I take one deep breath and offer up a quick prayer that I don't spontaneously combust, I make my way back into the living room.

"Mom, hurry," Peyton orders with her hand on the handle of the screen door. "Edward said we could take a walk." She's bouncing up and down and looking back and forth between me and him.

"Oh, he did?" I ask with a raised eyebrow and then giggle when he hangs his head and shrugs his shoulders a bit.

I don't say anything because I'm waiting for him to look at me again. When he does, he admits with a very adorable, very sheepish grin, "She asked. I couldn't say no."

"Hmmm," I answer, not minding the thought of a walk anywhere near as much as I let on.

The three of us go out the front door and I hand Edward the key as we walk down the front steps. It is an absolutely perfect night for a walk. The sun has just begun to set and there is still enough warmth left over from the heat of the day to keep it from being chilly. The moon has just begun to show and the soothing sounds of the ocean fill the air.

It's one of my favorite things about living in the Northeast. I complain, as everyone does from time to time, about wanting to get out of here and go someplace different, but the reality is that Corea is where I belong. That doesn't mean I don't wish to visit new places or see different things, but I'll always come back.

Peyton's chattering a mile a minute as we walk through our neighborhood. The houses are spread out pretty far apart, but I know that tomorrow at work I'll have more than a few people mention this little jaunt. Such is life in a small town, but in this case, I don't really mind all that much.

Especially after we've walked for about ten minutes and Edward slides his fingers between mine like it's the most natural thing in the world.

"Is this okay?" he asks when I peek at him out of the corner of my eye.

I duck my head and I can feel myself blush like a little girl instead of acting like a grown woman. The man has me twisted in knots, though it's not the most unpleasant thing in the world. In fact, it's exciting and scary and maddening all at the same time.

"Yes," I answer simply and smile at him when he squeezes my hand and pulls me closer to him as we walk.

Peyton is still talking, totally oblivious that neither Edward nor I are really paying attention to her. "Does she ever run out of things to say?" he whispers when he bends his head down.

I laugh and shake my head. "Um … no. She can be quite … a challenge for her teachers at school sometimes. I have no idea where she gets all that personality from because she's not like me, and Evan sure wasn't like that."

I gasp as Evan's name slips out. I never talk about Evan, not even to Xavier and Seth who were as close to him as I was. The realization of that saddens me … a lot. Evan was a great guy and it's like a punch in the stomach that I've spent the past seven years pretending like he didn't exist.

"Bella," Edward says softly, distress evident in his voice. "Are you all right?"

I nod, not able to speak just yet. So many buried thoughts and feelings are just waiting to push their way out of the door I've kept them hidden behind for such a long time. The time to open that door and let them out is fast approaching, I can feel it, but not yet.

"I'm fine," I tell him as I sigh. His eyebrows dip and he frowns at me. I don't want this to ruin what has been an amazing night so I smile, hoping to make him smile back. It works, thankfully.

"Are you going to be ready for dessert when we get back?" I ask as we turn around and head back toward the house. "You know we're having mint chocolate chip ice cream; a little birdy told me it's your favorite."

I giggle as his eyes light up, leaving no question as to whether or not he'll be eating dessert once we get home.

"She remembered?" he asks, sounding totally shocked which makes me laugh.

Does the man not realize that Peyton thinks he hung the moon? I'm not sure at this point, if given the chance, she wouldn't take down all her Tom Brady posters if she could replace them with pictures of Edward.

I nod my head and tell him, "Edward, Peyton has a running list of all the things she knows about you. It's kind of scary if you want me to be honest. If she weren't seven I'd be scared if I were you."

His smile is sweet and sexy at the same time, a dangerous combination if I've ever seen one. The fact that it sort of takes my breath away and makes my heart skip a beat is all the proof I need.

"And you, little one, what's this I hear about this list? Should I be worried about what you're writing down?" he teases when he glances down at her and swings their hands between them.

She sputters and stammers, then narrows her eyes at him when she realizes he's just messing with her. "Not nice, Edward. Don't forget, I know things," she warns him in as serious a voice as she can, which is rather difficult because as soon as he winks at her, she laughs uncontrollably.

Watching the two of them is like nothing I could have imagined. I'm more jealous than I'd like to admit that they can be so free and easy with each other, and though I had an inkling about how close they've become, to see it in real time is something else altogether. Edward has no idea of how significant Peyton not only showing him her treasure box, but giving him something from it is. She hasn't shown anyone what's inside, ever. It's causing more than a few problems for Xavier, but that's a crisis for another day.

We finally make it back home and eat our dessert on the sofa. There isn't a lot of talking going on. The scraping of spoons against ceramic mixed with a few mmmms are the only sounds in the room.

After Peyton's eyes have closed and her head has fallen backward against the sofa for the fourth time, I know it's time to get her into bed.

"Baby, say good night to Edward so we can get you into bed," I whisper as I shake her shoulder just a bit.

"No, don't wanna, want Edward to stay," she mumbles. Lord have mercy the girl is pulling out all the stops.

Thankfully, Edward doesn't exacerbate the situation and instead leans over and kisses her gently on the cheek. "I'll see you soon, sweetheart. You have sweet dreams now, okay?" he says softly as he runs his hand over the back of her head.

"Do you need help getting her upstairs?" he asks once he sits up.

His eyes keep moving from me to Peyton and I can tell as much as he hates saying good night to her, he's as anxious and excited to have some alone time as I am.

I shake my head and tell him, "There's a bottle of wine in the fridge. Why don't you pour us each a glass and I'll be back down once I get her in bed. Come on, P, up you go, sweetie." I nudge her off the sofa and then wrap my arm around her so I can lead her up the stairs.

Getting her into bed is a piece of cake. The day has certainly been a full one and she climbs into bed and snuggles up with her pillow, half-asleep before I can even pull the blanket over her. "Edward … best friend … not sad anymore …" she mumbles incoherently but it leaves no room to doubt who and what she's thinking about as she falls asleep.

I have a feeling my dreams won't be much different from hers … if I ever fall asleep that is.

"Night, baby," I whisper against her forehead and smile when her even breathing fills the air. "I love you."

I leave her door open a crack just like always and take a deep breath at the top of the stairs. My hands shake when I lift them to run my fingers through my hair and my legs feel like they do when I get done running on the treadmill for an hour.

"Jesus, Bella, get it together," I mutter to myself.

Music suddenly fills the air and when I reach the bottom step I say, "I never would have picked you for a Snow Patrol guy."

He's standing in front of the bookcase that has most of my pictures on it, holding a glass of wine in one hand and drumming his fingers against his thigh with the other. I can't tell if it's because he's nervous or keeping time with the music. My guess is on the first judging from how fast they're moving. He whips his head around at the sound of my voice and says, "I have no idea who this is; I just liked the name."

"You've never heard of Snow Patrol?" I ask as I pick up the glass of wine he's poured for me.

He takes a drink of wine though I can tell it's so he doesn't have to answer my question right away. I step closer to him and look at the shelf to see if I can figure out which picture caught his attention. When I see the one of Xavier, Seth, Evan, and me, I know.

He looks at me, his eyes changing color again as I stare at him. It's mesmerizing. When I see him raise an arm and nervously push his hand through his hair, I can sense that he's extremely hesitant to answer my question - like if he answers this one it's only the tip of the iceberg.

"I … uh … haven't had much chance to listen to music for awhile now," he admits and sounds so afraid that instinctively I reach out and grab his hand.

I have no idea what that means or what could possibly cause that to happen but it's plain to see that just saying that out loud is painful.

"Edward?" I question only because it's the only thing I can think of to say.

He sighs heavily and his shoulders slump as if the weight of the world has just fallen upon him. It makes me ache for him, in a deep, sorrowful way. The anguish he's feeling is palpable and I can feel it pressing in on us from all sides.

"Bella, there's so much I need to tell you," he says roughly, his voice sounding more gritty than normal as he battles to keep himself in check.

In an instant I realize that what I say next is the make or break moment for us … if I want there to be an us. I can demand he tell me everything and in turn force things before either of us is ready to talk or hear about the secrets we each have. Or, we can take things each day as they come and take the time to get to know each other.

I want to know more.

"Me, too, but it doesn't have to be right now, Edward. As long as there aren't wanted posters of you hanging in every post office across the country, I don't think we need to tell each other our deepest, darkest secrets after spending a few hours together. We have time," I tell him sounding much more put together and rational than I feel on the inside.

Inside my heart and my brain are having a knock down, drag out over whether I'm being a naïve little girl with her head in the clouds or a woman willing to take a chance on a man that I'm more attracted to than anyone else, ever.

My heart wins the first round, though I'm sure my brain will have plenty to say later.

"I want that," he says so softly I barely hear him.

I swallow past the questions and answer just as softly, "I do, too."

The song changes and this time The Script's Breakeven floats from the speakers. I raise my eyebrow at him and he shakes his head. "Nope, not this one either," he says.

"You've really got me curious about the story behind that," I tell him, taking his almost empty glass and set it on the coffee table along with mine.

Something flashes in his eyes, pain and fear, but it's gone almost as quickly as it came. Thankfully his eyes are back to the sea glass green that I've come to recognize as his normal color. It reminds me of the way the ocean looks when the moon reflects off it, especially when the water is calm, no matter that it has the power to change in a split second to turbulent and ferocious. So much unharnessed power with the ability to destroy.

Much like Edward himself.

It's a power I don't want to give him, but he has it nonetheless. The power to devastate a little girl; the power to shred my heart before I've even decided what to do with it.

His hand reaches out and takes mine, pulling me toward him. I don't resist and instead mold my body completely against his when he wraps his arms around me. My fingers slide up his arms and I can't help but sigh when, at last, I touch the ink that's etched into his biceps.

"Will you tell me what these mean?" I whisper, watching my finger trace the lines of black and red.

"Sometime, yes, if you want to know," he says roughly. His lips are beside my ear and when I feel his tongue flick at my earlobe my entire body reacts. Heat spreads, warmth pools, and my nipples ache as I press myself closer to him.

His tongue finds the sensitive spot behind my ear. His teeth gently scrape the skin and I lose my breath. His hands tighten on my back holding me so close I can feel his heart beat against my chest. "Will you tell me more about Evan?" he asks as he kisses his way along my neck.

"Yes, if you want to know." I moan. My fingers are in his hair, twisting, pulling.

"Fuck, Bella." He groans after my nails scrape along his scalp.

Our breathing is so heavy we're panting. Somehow he's turned us so that my back is flush against the wall. His body towers over mine and it's the hottest thing I've ever seen, looking up into his eyes that have changed to an almost charcoal black and knowing, feeling how much he wants me.

"Kiss me, Edward. Now." The words are barely out before his mouth covers mine.

Our tongues tangle and twist, then taste and explore. The feel of his tongue in my mouth is exquisite and the way he tastes even more so. Sweet from the ice cream, bitter from the wine, mixed with something that is purely him. His hands grip my ass, fingers massaging, testing.

His left hand slides up my back and winds itself in my hair, gently wrapping it around his fingers. "I've wanted to do this since the first moment I saw you," he says huskily as his mouth covers every inch of my neck with slow, wet kisses.

"Oh God," I breathe out as his mouth continues its wicked assault. Neck, jaw, cheek, back to lips. He doesn't stop, barely lets me catch my breath.

His middle grinds against mine, and he's so fucking hard. I can feel the entire length of him against my stomach … against my throbbing core. It feels so good I can't even think straight.

When I feel his hand cover my breast and his thumb brush against a sensitive nipple, I sag against him and almost come right then. I'm shameless as I push myself against his hand, begging for more.

I want him … Lord, I want him. Hard and fast and over and over again.

"Bella, oh Christ," he rasps. He presses his forehead to mine. His breath washes over me, bathing me in warmth and sweet and him. "I want you. Fuck, I want you so damn bad, but we need to stop before we do something we'll both regret."

It takes a moment or two before his words penetrate the haze of white hot lust in my brain, but when they do, I nod my head at him. He's right … as much as I hate it, as badly as I want him, I know without a doubt that going any further would be a huge mistake.

The fact that he recognizes that makes me want him even more. Go figure.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he whispers and his voice is back to sinfully caramel turtle-like.

I loosen my grip on his hair and lower my arm. My fingertips graze the scar on his neck. "You'll tell me about this, too?" I ask. My voice is uneven but thankfully my heart has mostly slowed down.

"Yes. If you want to know, I'll tell you everything."

The moment passes when I yawn. His grip loosens and when he takes a step backward, I sigh from the loss of contact.

I pout at him, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth. "Damn, woman, are you trying to kill me?" he moans then gently pulls my lip out with his fingers.

"I'd better go before it's too hard to leave at all," he says rather reluctantly. He grabs my hand and pulls me toward the front door. "I had a great time," he whispers looking down at our hands instead of at me.

"Me, too. We should do it again," I softly reply and suck in a deep breath when he looks at me with a drop dead, panty-wetting smile on his face.

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

I yawn again, not able to stop myself.

"Night, Bella." He kisses my forehead. "I'll see you soon, then, okay?"

"For sure. Night, Edward." He walks through the door and I stare at him as he gets on his bike.

It rumbles to life, startling me and when he waves, I wave back, waiting until I can't see him anymore to shut the door.

"Holy hell, girl," I mutter as I lean my back against the door, banging my head lightly over and over again. "You are in so much trouble when Rose and Alice find out about this."

~~~~OOO~~~~OOO~~~~