ten.

"Charlie, I was just about to call." I hit speaker on the cell, balanced on my knee and knotted my tie.

"Did you make it in yet?" he wondered.

"Yes. I'm actually riding shotgun in a packed taxi as we speak." I smirked, too anxious to give a shit about the audience. "Headed away from O'Hare."

"Well, Brett's got the goods. He'll meet you there." The mad messenger. "I had the stone tightened and the whole thing cleaned this week."

"Hey, Charlie... you didn't have to do that."

"No. It needed it. And... I've got a lot of time on my hands now, you know."

"You deserve the rest and retirement. You and Sue should take a trip." A tired sneer and sigh from the crowded back seat full of strangers finally forced me off speaker.

"We'll be going over to Southbend to watch Emmett play soon enough. Will you guys get over there too?"

"Definitely. Still can't believe he's at Notre Dame."

"Yeah, well, we all blame you, Edward."

"I hear you. I hear you... I've also been hearing Bella loud and ridiculous over it too. But it's all good." Friendly yet nervous chuckling, the moment almost heavy in heightened knowing. A father, a daughter, a gift and me... prepared and onward. "Thank you, Charlie," I offered quiet, staring at the late Friday freeway stretch. The Quileute Museum and Library minutes ahead.

"I was thinking on it this morning. It's definitely circa 1970's and I probably paid less than two hundred dollars for it, Edward. You sure?"

"I'm sure. It's worth everything."

~oo~S~oo~

Deep summer stillness punished as I stood, awed and proud on the outside. The essence and expanse of the completed structure still amazed me. She'd rode it out, seen it through, created and built her forever first. You did it, baby. An obnoxious, familiar whistle and a throat clearing left me spinning, heart racing.

"What the fuck, man?" I scolded my oldest, closest friend strutting toward me in the hazy, hot dusk.

"Why are you loitering out here? Shouldn't you be running in there, sweeping her up and throwing her over your shoulder?" He egged, I glared.

"I'll do that soon. And more later." I punched a smug arched brow warning. "I'm admiring her work from the exterior and catching my goddamn breath, you nosy prick. I've been traveling covert and shit all day to pull this off."

"Well aren't you just fucking James Bond and whatever," he spat stupid, I shook, eyes narrowed. "It's better out here, anyway. The food sucks. Just a bunch of fancy finger stuff. No beer." Brett heaved, nodded and settled on a metal bench near the entrance. I fell near, loosening and unbuttoning the top of my white dress shirt.

"How is she?"

"Making the rounds. Being prissy. Talking a lot. Like a lot. More than usual. If that's fucking possible. I don't know." We smirked, laughing light. He picked and tossed smooth river pebbles in the bed beneath our feet. "Grown up. Professional. Fancy. Beautiful. Smart. All that shit she's supposed to be. So fucking grown up… Jesus." Lost, reserved, I let him settle.

"That'll be Bree one day," I mumbled, he grinned proud.

"Yeah. Probably so. You saw the pictures of the lake house, right? Her first swimsuit. You know Bella's spending all your money on my daughter, right?"

"That's how it should be."

He stood. "So you're doing this, huh?"

"I'm doing this." I righted, smoothing my suit jacket. "I love her, Brett."

"I know you do." He dug, rooting in his front pocket. "I guess you'll need this then." He palmed a small fabric pouch and promise. I reached, he pulled back. Fucker. I grabbed him, hard into a man to man, brother to brother embrace. "Don't you dare fuck this up, Edward."

"Go home, Brett. You've got a long drive." I smacked his skeptical, loving mug and winked. "I'll take it from here."

~oo~S~oo~

She shifted, arm tucked under the other, wine glass tipping, oblivious. Thin, blue silk slid easy over the curve of her ass. A game, silent and fun I hung in the shadows of soaring ceilings, solid wood beams, replicas and native treasures. She mingled, head thrown, laugh loud. But her shoulders, stance ever and always curled slight and self preserved. You're doing great. And fuck I missed you. A toast, sudden and startling began in the corner. I snagged a tall glass flute and snuck closer.

Sam Uley bragged and thanked, nodding her way often. She beamed, nibbled and breathed deep. Her bare summer specked shoulders glistened and trembled slight. Other mentions over soft colloquial songs rambled on, then he noticed my hovering. I straightened, cringing at being found. "And there's Edward Cullen, also from the Garrett Paul design firm hiding humbly over there…" She gasped, stomped, her hand flew to cover glossy moving lips. Applause and acknowledgements swelled as she rushed my way.

Arms tugged tight, damp, dark eyes wondering how and when, she whimpered, tucking closer. "You asshole." She slugged, fisting my lapel.

"Don't make a scene."

"I will if I want. You surprised me. I don't like surprises." Ha. Just wait, baby. "Oh my god. I love you. You know that? This is just crazy. Look at me. You look tired. Awful and tired. But so perfect and yummy. Fuck." I smiled and kissed over and against. Subtly guiding her backwards along the periphery.

"You look beautiful. And this building is beautiful."

"Really?" She lit up, sincere. "You haven't seen it in months."

"I haven't seen you in months. Let me look." We breathed, stared. Coy and silly, she hid behind bare fingers, peeking between two.

"Knock it off." She sucked back the last of her wine and gestured across the main hall. I followed, blood pounding, cock twitching. She stumbled backwards into a dark conference room. Mouths, tongues, hands wanting, too many weeks and too much distance fueled the frenzy.

I trapped her against a long table in the center of the room. New moonlight shined through tall, clear windows. "How long?" she whispered, peppering love up and along my stubbled jaw.

"How long what?" I lifted her to sit, she reactively spread her legs. I smoothed the silk up, exposing.

"How long do I get you home this time?"

"I'm done." I winked, smirked smug. I shrugged from my jacket, feeling over the inside pocket and contents to reassure.

"Edward…" She pulled, squeezed. "Fucking finally. I'm so…" Pinching her chin, fingers firm, I tipped her head back, lips trailing down. "Mmmm…" My thumb dusted over her mouth to hush. She tongued and tasted, nibbling and teasing.

"Are these new?" I smirked, whispered. Her fingers curled tight along the edge of the blond maple table.

"Yes. Yes... yes." She shook, stray hair spilling, damp from August heat. I slid pale, blue lace down, off, away. Dressy heels dangled.

"You weren't going to save them for me?"

"Yes," she giggled, breathy, guilty and lying. "I mean, I don't know. Sure, of course. Surprise! New pretty things just for you, baby!" Reaching, she tugged my loose tie desperate. "You weren't supposed to be... You know. I'm just... Come back up here."

I stroked to start, fingers dipping, she palmed soft along the inside of her own warm thighs. "I want to be down here..."

"No, no, yes... Stay there..." Two pushing tight, I slid my tongue up and along. "Goddamn, I've missed you, and this. Lock the door. Did we lock the door… Oh fuck, yes…"

Her eyes fluttered closed, she inhaled sharp, her body tensed. I stroked her clit softly with my tongue, she arched towards. "Shhhh…"

"Fuck." Soft moans and want for more filled the space. I slipped and worked my fingers deeper, my tongue teased, lips sucked. She knotted through my hair, pulling me closer, heel digging as I drew out the sensations. "Take me home, Edward. I need more… more. Fuck… now."

~oo~S~oo~

Sated yet sleepless, I fumbled in the darkness anxious to settle into our space again. Ours. More so than ever. I poured empty wine gifted and sent home in celebration of the project end. Hers was built and done, mine was designed and prepped. I watched her dream from the bedroom door. Leaning, yawning, travel tired, but mindful and hopeful of what happened next. She nested in sex warmed sheets and wild, mussed hair, my love and energy in rare rest. And these fucking freshly painted purple walls. What the ever loving fuck… 'but, baby, they're the best shade level of aubergine…' The death of me. You will be. Irresistible, I left a soft kiss on her forehead and slumped silent at my drafting table. Scattered piles of my old sketchbooks and stacks of new prints covered every inch. "Hey…" She stirred, sitting. "You okay? What time is it?"

"Late," I mumbled, paging through her new work.

"Do you like?" she whispered, dusting lips over my shoulder, down my arm and dark ink. I nodded, meeting her eyes. She tucked naked into my lap, resting a sleepy, heavy head against my bare chest.

"Children's Hospital expansion project, right? I swear you have the best spatial instincts."

She sighed, light fingertips feathered through my hair below. "I do, don't I?" She teased, I pinched smooth skin inside her thigh. "Oh, mmmm, I missed you… there."

"Yeah?" I cupped, angled her face towards mine, brushing lips. "Didn't I take care of that, already?"

"I guess so… But I also missed you here…" She danced and wiggled fingers between her breasts. I kissed, inhaled. "And here…" She rolled her nipple gently, I followed, licking.

"You're still horny? So insatiable. I can't keep up."

"That's right, old man."

"Hey. Who are you calling old?" I tested, lightly smacking, pinching her ass.

"Hey," she mocked, narrowed eyes. "That ass you like to rub will always be eight years younger and firmer than yours."

"Ah, I see how it is." She gnashed and nibbled the end of my nose.

"But really and seriously… since we're awake…" she smirked naughty, licking lips.

"What's up with my sketchbooks? Hmmm?" I wondered, she shrugged and pursed pouting lips.

"Sometimes I miss you. Really bad. Late at night… And I look through these. I know I'm hopeless…" You're perfect.

"I have something for you."

"It can't beat the flamingo riding Santa snow globe you brought last time."

"Here." I opened the brochure. "Door County. Best B and B I could find. You and me. Seventy two hours and you can wear me out any way you want to." I winked, she squealed and snuggled around tight.

"Edward, this is perfect." She straddled, ready again. Jesus, Bella. Let me get through this. But goddamn your pussy is so fucking… No. Nope, I'm doing this first.

"Wait… wait, baby. I have something else." I scooted her off and went for my suit jacket. She put on my wrinkled dress shirt and hurried behind. I gripped the future tight in my palm and tugged her back in my lap on the chilled, leather sofa.

"What's this?" She peeled my fingers away, our eyes locked, she knew. "Edward." The tapestry pouch was as it always was. Stitched by my mother for hers… only after. Bella shook, sniffled slightly. I held her closer, suddenly unsure.

"Hey. Hey…"

"No. No… no." She smiled, brave through immediate tears, letting Renee's ring fall into her hand. "How…"

"Charlie… then Brett… and…" Speechless. I felt for the very first, ever, watching her watch me. We burst, anxious, impulsive laughter.

"I don't… I mean… What… what, why are you…"

"I love you."

"I know," she whispered, nodding, wide eyed, waiting. I slipped the ring on and down. Thumbing over the single sapphire stone, along the gold and silver toned thin filigree band. She stroked my cheek. "But what does this mean?" She shouted wild, giggling, kicking bare feet.

"It means... It means whatever you want it to mean." We stared through a new, weighted moment. Our hands tight, her fingers wiggled. She prompted, waiting, with big, hopeful eyes.

"You want to marry me..." She whispered, a slight, almost silly taunt. I nodded and shrugged, intentionally nonchalant to tease. "Say it." She climbed over me, straddling again, hands framing my face to steady. "Say it. Say it. Say it." I turned in her grip, dragging my mouth along the inside of her wrist. You're mine. All. Complete. Beautiful. Soft. Wild. Finally. I smirked, she narrowed damp eyes, mouthing, frustrated. "Say it."

Gripping sudden and swift beneath my favorite ass, I pulled her closer, tighter. "Marry me."

beauty of form arising from balanced proportions, symmetry defined.

the end.

a/n

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