They were walking back to the villa, Edward's arm around her waist, and she realized that she was enjoying having someone showing interest in her, even if it was all a pretense. The last several weeks with Paul hadn't been good, and even before that, she couldn't remember them spending the kind of easy, fun time together that she and Edward were doing. It made her want to laugh at herself: what kind of loser was she that a fake relationship was more satisfying than a real one had been?
It was a depressing enough thought to make her quiet through dinner, until Edward finally asked if she was all right. "Yeah, I guess so," she replied, absently twirling her angel hair pasta around her fork.
When she looked up, Edward's eyes were fixed on her, warm and full of concern. "Listen, I know this must be hard for you," he said, reaching out to cover Isabella's hand with his own. "Pretending I'm your husband when you just got—well, you know. I'll talk to Emmett tonight and see how close they are to catching the shooter; maybe I'll be out of your hair by tomorrow."
"No, I don't mind," Isabella said a little too quickly. "I mean, yeah, it's weird, but not—" she broke off and shook her head. "I don't understand. I'm the girl who gets thrown off-kilter all day if I don't get the same seat on the same train car every morning, and now, here…" she swept her free arm around to indicate the entire situation, trying to ignore the way the heat of Edward's hand was soaking into hers.
The corner of Edward's mouth quirked up. "The same seat on the same train car?"
"Yeah." Isabella shrugged. "I like knowing what's going to happen, you know? I like knowing what to expect, and I don't like being surprised by things."
"I know what you mean," Edward nodded. "My job requires planning everything down to the last detail, even the things you think can't possibly happen."
"Yes, exactly," she pointed a finger at him, "It's all about being prepared."
"But it's also about being flexible," Edward replied. "I don't think there's ever been a job that went the way we planned it, not in every detail. It's about being able to deal with the stuff you don't expect that can make or break you." He paused and then gave her a small smile. "And I have to say, you've been amazing."
Isabella felt herself flush and looked away. "Not really."
"No. You're just a regular girl who all of a sudden is getting shot at and having some strange dude in your face all the time, all while trying to deal with your shit. You're keeping it together so well, Bella. You're not like any other woman I've ever met."
She shook her head as she realized something she'd been thinking all day, but hadn't managed to put into words up until this point. She said slowly, "I'm not all that upset about losing Paul. Not anymore. I think I'm more upset about being dumped."
"It bothers you more that you were rejected than the fact that he was the one rejecting you?"
When Isabella looked up, she saw a mix of emotions swirling in Edward's green eyes: compassion and concern mixed with protectiveness and maybe even something like jealousy. Which was stupid: what did Edward have to be jealous about? Aloud, she said, "Yeah, if that makes any sense."
"It makes a lot of sense." Edward's thumb was stroking back and forth across the back of Isabella's hand. "It's a good sign, too. Means you're starting to move on."
"Yeah," she breathed out. "Maybe I am." She briefly licked her lips, and when Edward's gaze dropped to her mouth, she found herself fiercely wishing that the table wasn't between them. As it was, there was no way to subtly make a move, and she was afraid to let the chance go by without seizing it.
Edward cleared his throat. "Isabella, I—"
If the room hadn't been so quiet and tense, they wouldn't have heard it. It came from outside, a choked-off cry that made the hair on the back of Isabella's neck stand up.
Instantly, Edward's expression went from tentatively hopeful to grim. "Get down," he commanded, rising to his feet and reaching for the phone in his pocket. "Under the table. Now."
She didn't hesitate before obeying, even if she felt like a dork shoving the chairs aside to hide under the table like a little kid. Edward wasn't getting any answer on his phone, and he cursed under his breath as he moved towards the front door. Isabella saw him pick up the gun and heard the sound of a round being loaded in the chamber. Prickles of fear ran down her spine in response.
"Fuck," Edward muttered, tucking the phone away. "Get upstairs, Isabella. Get in one of the closets and don't come out until I tell you, no matter what you hear. Got that?"
On shaky legs, she clambered back out from under the table. Edward was by the front door, gun held out low in a two-handed grip. He turned off the light switch, and Isabella blinked in the sudden darkness. "Go!" Edward demanded in a low voice.
Thank you for the reviews guys!
Jess