Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight. Or Edward – Or Robert – Damn it.
Chapter 2: My Good Samaritan
Taking a deep breath, I couldn't help but hurry past Jake's bike and the two sedans that separated me from my escape. As I reached the hood of my truck, I palmed its edge on my way to my door, but stopped dead in my tracks instead of continuing on. I took a step back with my hand still planted on the hood of my truck and looked down to confirm what I'd seen from the corner of my eye; my mystery man was crouched down on his heels as he examined my front passenger tire. As I tentatively turned to approach him, he looked up, his face lit in surprised recognition as I stepped off of the curb. "You have a flat," he said in a deep voice that I knew I could lose myself in.
Shifting my focus from his body to my tire, I bent down to inspect the damage and saw an old, rusty nail sticking out of its left side, next to where the slack rubber pooled against the pavement. I furrowed my brows in frustration because I desperately wanted to flee from Jake. Then I remembered that I wasn't alone. "So, do you look at the entire parking lot checking for flat tires like a Good- Samaritan-type of thing?" I asked.
I turned my head and looked at him, only to find his gaze firmly locked onto my own. He immediately turned his head and muttered something under his breath as he stood. Bringing my left hand up to my mouth, I bit the tip of my ring finger, a nervous tic of mine, and stood up as well.
Turning his head to face me again he asked, "Do you have a spare? I can help you change this if you want." My hand fell away from my face as I watched him speak. When I realized that I was staring at his mouth, I shifted my gaze up to his eyes. He smiled and raised an eyebrow. "Spare tire?" he asked again, clearing my head.
I nodded once before I walked past him to peer down into the bed of my truck. When I saw that it was empty, I gnashed my teeth and said, "Crap." I felt him step closer to me as he gazed down over my head. "I took out my spare tire and jack two days ago to help my landlady move her Christmas decorations," I said. "She had to get a small storage unit when I moved into the apartment above her garage." I wasn't sure why I divulged this information to him, but as I turned toward him, I lost all train of coherent thought. He was less than six inches away from my body, and as I looked up into his eyes, my lips parted and I took a shaky breath when I found them trained once again so intently on my face.
"I'm sorry to say that my jack won't fit, or else we could just use mine to prop your truck up and get this tire off already," he said, taking a step back and looking down at my flat.
"Don't worry about it," I reassured him, taking my cell phone out of my pocket and turning it over in my hand. "My Dad made sure I was a member of Triple A for situations like this when I moved out here last year," I said, still unsure why I was volunteering so much about my life. "Anyway, thanks for pointing out my flat tire—" I paused, fishing for his name.
"Edward," he supplied as the smile that started out on his full, supple lips spread to his eyes.
"—Edward," I replied, liking the way his name sounded as I said it. "Thanks again for the whole 'Good Samaritan' thing," I said before I could stop myself, sure that my embarrassment from earlier was making its reappearance on my face.
He smiled and said, "Well, since you seem to have labeled me as one, why don't I continue with my role a bit more. Can I offer you a ride back to your apartment to pick up your jack and spare? That way you don't have to wait around for Triple A to show up—" he paused, using the trick I'd used earlier on me this time.
"Bella," I supplied with a smile.
"—Bella," he said with a nod of his head, as though he were testing it out just as I had with his name. "What do you say?"
Though the part of me that was a cop's daughter screamed at me to refuse, the part of me that was completely captivated by the hot guy asking to help me out smiled and said, "That would be great. Let me just grab my purse from my truck." I took my keys out of my jeans pocket and unlocked the passenger side door. As I leaned over and pulled my purse out from underneath my front seat, I reminded the cop's daughter that I'd been raised right, and that my pepper spray was tucked into the side pocket of my purse. I shut my door, nudging it with my hip to make sure it was closed, then looked over at Edward and couldn't help but smile. He was polite… and cute… and talking to me. What could possibly happen?
Nothing, I thought, silencing my inner voice. Besides, I continued, he's probably married to that perfect little brunette, and they live in the perfect little house with their two perfect little children.
"So, where are you parked?" I asked. He nodded toward the sleek silver sports car behind my back, and I felt my face heat up. The fact that he was parked right next to me meant that he'd seen my tire as he was about to get into his car. So much for Mr. Good Samaritan…
"Right," I mumbled, walking around the front of his car. "So you didn't check the whole parking lot?" I asked, hoping the he mistook the waver in my voice for a crack at humor rather than a sign of my humiliation. When he smirked and unlocked his passenger side door, I opened it and sat down. As he opened his door and slid into his seat, I said, "I take that as a no?" Edward chuckled as he shook his head, and I stole a glance at his ring finger on his left hand; it was bare. When I checked the backseat for Cheerios and a car seat as he shifted into reverse, I found it empty as well.
"Where's this garage apartment of yours?" He backed cautiously out of his parking spot, taking extra care to check for pedestrians walking behind his car as he did so. When he shifted into drive, I nodded up toward First Avenue and told him to take a left toward West Queen Anne.
Mrs. Cope's neighborhood ran parallel along Kinnear Park, where the houses were nestled among the hills of the area. Her house sat about ten feet higher than street level on the right side of the street, so I directed Edward to the next block and had him turn into the alley, where her garage and my apartment was. He turned at the entrance, just before a large telephone pole marked the edge of our rear neighbor's property and where three of my other neighbor's trash cans were lined up. "Which one is yours?" he asked, nodding toward the homes on the left side of the alleyway.
"The third one in," I informed him as he eased past the first house. "It's the large white-washed building with a padlock on the double doors." He began to pass it, but I realized that he had done so on purpose when he shifted into reverse, placed his arm across the back of my headrest, and twisted his body around to guide his car backward into the driveway.
When he shifted into park, he kept his hand up on my headrest and his face directed toward mine. "So this is where you live?" he asked, breaking through the haze I'd let myself get wrapped up in again.
He lowered his arm and shut off the engine, and I couldn't seem to find my voice for a moment. I nodded and crossed my left arm over my chest, pointing out of the side window up toward my small apartment. "Yeah," I said after swallowing thickly. "Just up there."
Edward chuckled and blinked, drawing his gaze down to where I'd rested my hands in my lap. He licked his lips then looked back up to my face as he reached to his side and opened his door. "Where's your spare?"
"Oh," I said, beyond embarrassed that I'd sat there gaping instead of getting out of the car. I turned from him and opened my door as I said, "It's in the garage." I hoped that when he saw my face as he rose from his seat and followed me, he'd think the bloom in my cheeks was a result of the biting January wind and not due to my utter embarrassment.
With my back to Edward, I dialed in the combination of the padlock and swung the heavy garage door open. My jack and spare sat along the far wall, just where I'd left them. Edward brushed past me and turned once he reached the wall. "Is this jack strong enough to lift your truck?" he asked as he bent down to retrieve it.
"It's the one my Dad always uses when I have a flat," I replied with a shrug. "I've never had a problem with it."
He nodded and began to walk back toward his car as I neared my spare tire. "I'll get that," he called over his shoulder, setting down the jack to unlock the trunk of his car. I watched him bend down to pick it up again once he opened his trunk and felt guilty; I knew how heavy it was, so I figured I'd save him the trouble of having to move the tire as well. I maneuvered it away from the wall and pointed it in the direction of Edward's car, thinking I would just roll it toward him.
After two spins, I realized that I was on the highest part of a slope, and that rolling a tire that weighed at least thirty pounds toward Edward or his car was not such a great idea. It began picking up speed and I rushed behind it, desperately trying to slow its decent with my hands. "Oh, shit," I said as it rolled out of my grasp. I swore again under my breath before I shouted, "Edward, watch out!"
He'd just set the jack inside of his trunk and turned toward the sound of my voice before he figured out what I was warning him about. I watched in horror as the runaway tire hit the back of his legs before toppling over and spinning like a coin on the asphalt. Edward lunged forward upon its impact, but quickly righted himself against his car before turning to look at me.
"Oh my God, are you alright?" I asked, running up to him. "I'm so sorry," I said as I bent down to stop the tire from spinning, and then started brushing dirt from his jeans before I realized what I was doing. Mortified, I stood and mumbled, "Sorry," again. It had been humiliating enough to have the tire get loose from my grasp in the first place, but I couldn't believe that I'd actually touched him in such a personal manner. When I glanced up at Edward's amused expression, my embarrassment increased tenfold.
He looked down at his feet, and while the corners of his mouth turned up and he let out a soft laugh, I watched his long eyelashes dust his cheeks. "I'm fine, Bella," he said with a slight laugh as he looked back at me. "Why don't you close up the garage while I put the tire in the trunk? Do you think you can manage that without knocking me over?"
With a flustered laugh I said, "Maybe." Edward chuckled and bent down to pick up the tire at his feet, and I turned around to close the garage doors and clasp the padlock shut around the two metal disks holding them closed. The wind picked up then, and I struggled for a moment until the lock closed with a small click. When I was sure it was secure, I turned while I brushed a loose strand of hair from where it was tickling my nose, and found Edward closing his trunk.
While I walked around to the passenger side, I noticed him wipe his hands against each other before he opened his door so I glanced down at my own. A few smudges of tire grease coated my left palm while my right only had one black spot. Edward slid into the driver's seat of his nice, clean car. I didn't want to wipe my grubby paws all over it, so I did the only thing I could: with a look of disgust on my face, I sucked in a breath and wiped my hands along the sides of my dark wash jeans, hoping he wouldn't notice, then I climbed in next to him.
"Everything alright?" Edward asked. I bit my lip and turned to face him, and couldn't help but smile.
When he returned my smile with one of his own, I looked down at my lap. "Thanks for doing this, Edward. You really didn't have to."
"Sure I did. I take my job as the parking lot Good Samaritan very seriously," he replied. I laughed as he started the car, and brought my finger up to my mouth to calm my nerves. "What would the damsel in distress say to lunch?"
Smiling into my hand before I dropped it back to my lap, I turned and said, "Lunch sounds great. I'm starving, actually." Edward smiled as he shifted into drive.
The city blurred around me as Edward weaved in and out of traffic, headed back in the general direction of the market. "Do you like—" he began, and I turned toward him. Instead of continuing though, his lips formed a small smile.
"What?" I asked as he kept glancing over from the corner of his eye. His smile deepened and he pointed to the side of his nose. My eyes widened and I really hoped that my suspicions were incorrect. Sure enough though, when I hastily lowered his visor and peered up at my reflection in the small mirror there, I found a small black smudge on the left side of my nose.
My hands flew to cup my mouth and nose in horror. I turned my head toward the side window and rubbed furiously at the spot. When I glanced in the mirror from the corner of my eye a moment later, the smudge was gone, but my whole face was red. Edward chuckled from my left at my failed attempt at subtlety, but unfortunately, there wasn't a hole placed conveniently at my feet for me to disappear into.
I kept my left hand up on my face and readjusted myself in my seat as Edward pulled into a parking space; I hadn't realized that we were already at the restaurant. "Is this okay?" he asked, shifting into park. I glanced out of the windshield up at the small hand-painted sign that read, "Boat & Net."
"It's a mom and pop kind of place," Edward began, "but it's still kind of early and I didn't know what else was open around here."
"No, this is fine." I finally lowered my hand from my nose as I faced him. "I've never been here before, but I've heard Jake talk about this place a time or two," I said, reaching for the handle and opening my door.
We stepped out of the car at the same time, but I reached back in to retrieve my purse from the floorboard as Edward closed his door and walked up to the sidewalk to wait for me. When I closed my door and made my way over to where he stood, I noticed that he was shuffling his weight from foot to foot and had one hand shoved into his jeans pocket while the other rubbed the back of his neck.
"Is it okay that, uh," he muttered, lowering his hand and gesturing between us. "Will this Jake guy get mad that I'm bringing his girlfriend out to lunch?" he asked awkwardly.
"Jake is not my boyfriend," I replied in a hurry. Edward relaxed his stance, so I continued. "He's just a friend. He's been nagging me to come watch him at the fish market for forever, so that's why I was there." And probably why I stink right now, I tacked on internally.
Edward smirked and walked up to the door, holding it open for me. I brushed past him, taking a second to sniff my arm, and luckily found that somehow I hadn't ended up smelling like fish. Lowering my arm as Edward stepped through the door behind me, I looked around the restaurant. The interior of Boat & Net was definitely on the small side, but it was nice enough. Twenty or so tables sat in rows behind the condiment area, which faced the long counter where you ordered. A brightly lit menu hung just above the counter and I quickly scanned the specials highlighted there as Edward and I approached it.
There were no employees behind the cream Formica counter I set my purse down on, so I took the opportunity to question Edward. "So you didn't let me ask you if your wife would be upset that I'm eating lunch with her husband earlier. Will she be mad that you're changing my tire, too?" I asked coyly. Unless he rarely wore his ring, I hadn't gotten the impression that Edward was married or in a relationship to speak of, but I was curious about the brunette that had wrapped her arm around his at the market.
I looked over at him first with my eyes, but let my head follow a moment later. Edward's lips curved up into a sly smile at my clever attempt to fish for information, but before he could answer, a waitress emerged from the kitchen to take our order. Despite the fact that he'd already done more than enough for me, and despite my arguments, Edward paid for our food. With no choice in the matter, I conceded defeat and turned to find a table. It was an easy quest; we were the restaurant's only patrons.
Edward waited at the counter for our food as I shrugged out of my jacket and placed it across the back of my chair. It was unusually warm inside the small room, so I pulled my sweater up over my head and placed it on top of my jacket before I sat down. Our food was ready a moment later, and Edward carried the tray to our table. He placed his coat across the back of his chair and had just sat down when I stood. He glanced up at me with a questioning look.
"I need some ketchup and cocktail sauce. What about you?" I asked with a smile. "What's your poison?"
He rose from his seat and said, "I'll help." I cocked my eyebrow at him. "We need straws and a ton of napkins. The food here is greasy, but it tastes good," he explained.
I'd chosen the table that sat just behind the right hand corner of the condiment bar, so I could have managed just fine. Either he was trying to keep up his new role of Good Samaritan, or he was trying to flirt with me. I was hoping for… Well, if I was being honest with myself, I was hoping for both.
Facing the ketchup dispenser, it suddenly occurred to me that he hadn't answered my question earlier. Just as I turned toward him to inquire about his answer, Edward said, "By the way, no one is going to be mad that I'm taking you out to lunch. Now, if I hadn't have offered to change your tire or take you to lunch, I'd be mad at myself. But that's another story."
I blushed at his admission as I scooped some cocktail sauce into a small white paper cup before I stole a glance in his direction. He'd had his jacket on all morning, and I was pleasantly surprised to see that the sleeves of his light blue button down shirt were rolled up to his elbows.
"The girl you saw at the market is my sister, Alice. Who you didn't see was her boyfriend, Jasper. Well, shit… I guess he's her fiancé, now," he said with a smile. "They wanted me to meet them at the market this morning so that they could tell me they're getting married."
"That's so cool," I said. "Did he propose last night on New Year's Eve?" I asked, picking up another small paper cup and positioning it underneath the ketchup dispenser. I pushed down on the pump once, and nothing happened. When I pushed down on it again, though, it made a disturbing noise then spewed ketchup all over my t-shirt. Hunching my shoulders over, I took a step back as my mouth fell open in shock.
Realizing that I had an audience, I turned to find Edward biting back a smile. As I placed the empty paper cup onto the counter, he said, "I'll get this. Why don't you go clean up in the bathroom?"
Without a word in response, I turned on my heel and ran toward the entrance, where I'd seen the restrooms. Once inside, I peered into the mirror to assess the damage. Ketchup was all over the left side of my chest. My hands were somehow free of the sticky red stuff, so I pushed the sleeves of my t-shirt up over my elbows so that I wouldn't get them wet when I turned on the water.
When I turned the knob, water trickled from the spout, so I turned it further to the right for more water pressure and leaned down to scoop it into my hands. Instead of spraying down like gravity intended, it blew out at an awkward angle and hit my ketchup-stained shirt and splashed up into my face. The below-freezing temperature of the water made me take an involuntary gasp of air.
Blinking my eyes in shock, I took a step back and hunched over as water dripped from my face to the floor. The water still sprayed from the spout at a strange angle, so while trying to avoid getting splashed again as much as humanly possible, I side-stepped the stream and turned the knob until it stopped. Praying that there was an actual paper towel dispenser instead of just a hand dryer, I turned to the wall on my right and found that I was in luck. After I wiped off my face, I scrubbed furiously at my shirt but my effort was for naught. Although I knew there was no way I'd get the entire stain out, I'd hoped for at least something not as noticeable as what I ended up with.
Looking up at the mirror, I noticed that remnants of the mascara I'd thought I'd removed last night had found its way down my face. When I looked down at my shirt, though, I found that a smudge of mascara was the least of my problems; my ketchup stain didn't seem like such a big deal any longer either.
Laundry day had been yesterday, but when I went to grab my white t-shirt bra this morning, it was nowhere to be found. So I figured that since I was layering my thick, navy blue sweater over my white long sleeved tee, wearing my plaid forest green bra would be no big deal. Throwing a bit of water onto a white t-shirt was an entirely different story; my bra was clearly visible, and I had not brought my sweater into the bathroom with me. After all, I'd been in a hurry.
Crossing my arms over my chest and gathering up as much of the see-through material in my fist as possible, I bit my lip and left the privacy of the bathroom. Edward sat waiting patiently for me at our table, his food untouched. With a meek smile, I grabbed my sweater and sat down, hoping that the table would cover where my bra showed through. I let go of my shirt and hunched down to cover more of myself, but when my head popped through the hole of my sweater, I found Edward's eyes glued to my chest.
