Chapter 9

Regret Can Come Later

Bella

The next two days have gone by a lot smoother than I'd expected them to. I haven't seen Edward since our run in the other morning in the break room. Even though I'll probably never admit it, I'm slightly disappointed. When I'd asked Georgia why he'd gone ninja, she mentioned that he had to go out of town on business for a few days. That's probably why I haven't heard him or his kids running amuck next door. By Friday, there was still no sign of him, and after closing up for the night, I accepted an invitation from my co-workers to have drinks at the town's local bar.

Emmett and I are the first to arrive at the Twilight Tavern. Being as it's the only drinking hole in town, it serves as a dance club as well. Sitting in a corner booth, searching the crowd and observing the people that currently occupy the space, I quickly realize that most of the patrons are dressed in leather and realize that it's a biker bar.

"So, tutz, what's it gonna be?" Emmett asks. "Are you a hard liquor girl, a piss beer kinda gal, or a fruity tutee princess?"

"What the hell is a fruity tutee?"

"You know, those fruity, colorful, girly drinks with umbrellas," Emmett replies.

"How about," I say, tapping my finger on my chin, "…something that doesn't taste too much like liquor. My tolerance for alcohol is pretty limited."

"Fruity it is. Don't worry, tutz. I'll fix ya right up," Emmett replies with a wink. "By the end of the night, you'll be looser than a hooker at a pimp convention."

As I sit and wait for Emmett to return, a couple of familiar faces round the corner of the booth. Paul's grin doesn't reach his eyes. Tyler, on the other hand, has the side of his face glued to his cell phone, scowling as his conversation takes on a life of its own. I'm almost convinced that the guy probably never smiles, and when I look over at Jacob the expression on his face is hard to decipher.

"Hey, Bella," Paul greets me as he takes a seat at the table. "How's it going?"

"Pretty good. Just waiting for Emmett to get back with drinks."

"I don't give a shit, Lauren!" Tyler sneers into his phone. "I know you're fucking lying to me. People saw you, Lauren. Why would they lie? Tell me! Why would they all lie?"

"He heard his girlfriend's been cheating on him," Paul says in a hushed tone as he leans in close to my ear, the nearness making me uneasy. She's a piece of work."

I can't help and notice Paul's gaze travel from my neck down to the top of my cleavage.

"Shit!" Tyler snaps as he angrily slams his phone on the tabletop and then runs his hands through his hair. "Does she think I'm a fucking idiot? I'll show her a fucking idiot when I chuck her shit out onto my front lawn."

Jacob bows his head and starts to chuckle. "You are an idiot, a fuckin' dumb shit for that matter. Every time you two fight, you always take her back. You act like her pussy is made of gold. Trust me, brother, no pussy is golden."

As the testosterone fest continues, I inwardly wish Georgia would magically appear.

"What the fuck ever, Jake. At least I get pussy," Tyler grumbles, flying out of the booth, and heads for the bar.

"Yeah, contaminated pussy is what you've been getting!" Jacob shouts. "He's such a chick. Sensitive asshole. He needs to change that fucking tampon of his."

"You're one to talk. Maybe you should leave him alone, Jacob. You're always razzing his ass," Paul replies. "You'd feel the same way if you were in love."

"Says the guy who hasn't had a woman in what, two years? Isn't that right, Paul? Besides, what do you know about love? As I recall…" Jacob trails off.

"Watch yourself, Jacob," Paul warns with a steely expression. "You don't know shit about my personal life so watch it."

"I know more about your life than you probably do, personal or otherwise. So unless you want people to know your sorry ass business, you'd better watch how you talk to me," Jacob sneers before getting up from the booth and looking over at me. "Be careful, Bella."

Before Paul can get another word in, Jacob is out of his seat, disappearing around the corner, leaving me with an uneasy feeling as I'm left alone with Paul.

With his hands folded on the table, Paul regards me without giving me so much as a sideways glance. "Sorry about my cousin's shitty attitude. He doesn't have a filter."

"What did he mean by be careful?"

"Nothing. He's just pissed at me. It's nothing."

As the minutes tick away, with no sign of Georgia or Emmett, Paul begins his version of Twenty-One Questions. He asked me where I was from, what brought me here, and if I like my new position at Rough Riders. I give him as much information I think will suffice without giving away too much. I've never been much for gossip, especially when it's about me. Not to mention, the comment Jacob made has certainly made me think before I divulge certain information to Paul.

I breathe a sigh of relief when Emmett arrives back to the table, drinks in hand, and a huge smile on his face. Standing next to him is a very beautiful, tall, blue-eyed blonde, dressed in a pair of tight low-rise jeans and a white t-shirt tied in a knot above her navel. On the front of the shirt are the words Twilight Tavern.

"Here ya go, tutz. This one will put some hair on your ass," Emmett says, thrusting a large, light brown drink at me, with a lemon stuffed at the surface of the glass. "Hope you like it."

"What is it?" I ask as I examine it. "It looks like sweet tea."

"It's called a Long Island Iced Tea," the blonde says with a beautiful smile. "Try it. You'll like it."

"Yeah, Bella, that's one hot ass drink right there," Paul adds. "Go for it."

Gripping the cold glass, I shrug, bringing the narrow straw up to my lips. Taking a large pull of the drink I remove the straw from the glass and gulp the liquid down, letting the contents slide down my throat.

"Easy, tutz! You might wanna take your time with that one," Emmett warns.

My eyes go wide. "This is so good! It tastes nothing like the wine I'm used to."

"Why thank you," the blonde replies, taking a bow. "I'm glad you like it. And wine, it isn't."

"You're the bartender?"

"My name's Rosalie, but feel free to call me Rosie. Everyone else does," the woman says, offering her hand to me. "I own this place and bartend on the weekends."

Emmett's smile is all teeth. "She's also my better half, and I do mean better."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Rosie. At least you help balance out the testosterone right about now," I reply with a giggle.

Georgia arrives about an hour later, looking like she's been put through the ringer. "Sorry I'm late, guys. I was on the phone with the boss. Boy, can that man talk."

"When did he get in?" Emmett asks.

"This morning. I forgot to tell you. He called to let us know he was back. I told him that we were all heading over here tonight."

"Did you happen to tell him who all was coming?" Emmett asks, giving me a sideway glance which I ignore, continuing to love my brown concoction.

"Yeah. He asked," Georgia replies, sliding her jacket off her shoulders. "Why?"

Emmett bows his head and chuckles. "'Cause he's a sucker, that's why."

"What?" Georgia asks, clearly confused by Emmett's cryptic word vomit.

"Nothing," he replies.

"What about his wife?" I answer with a hiccup.

I look up at Emmett and Georgia and watch another smile spread across Emmett's face. Georgia and Rosalie look equally amused as they look at one another apparently understanding something that my drunk ass has no clue about.

"Um…Edward's not married, Bella." Georgia says as she downs back one of the shots on the table. "What gave you that idea?"

"His kids." The hiccups are in full force as I try to form coherent words. "I just thought he was married."

"Tutz, that man ain't never been married. Hell, I doubt that idea's even crossed his mind."

"Girlfriend?" The question comes out as more of a whisper.

"Doesn't have one of them either," Emmett confirms as he lowers his head so that he's eye level with me. "You got the hots for the boss there, tutz?"

"What? No!" My voice cracks when I answer. "I don't have the hots for him. He's…irritating."

Emmett raises his brow and pulls his bottom lip in between his teeth. "Could've fooled me."

"Oh, babe, leave her alone," Rosalie says with a wink. "Besides, I need your help at the bar."

I do my best not to make eye contact with either Emmett or Rosalie as she pulls him along with her back to the bar. When the idea of Edward being single crosses my mind my stomach starts to flutter, making me inwardly cheer. But before I can mentally swoon over the idea, the thump and bump of music start to blare through the speakers.

"Oh God, I love this song!" I shout, shooing everyone away, trying relentlessly to make it to the dance floor. "C'mon, Georgia! Let's dance."

As a popular, upbeat song starts to play, my body begins to move. What should resemble something seductive turns out looking like a weird, alcohol induced mating dance. My body is all over the place and my head is spinning. It kind of feels like I'm weightless, and I think I need to remember to never, ever trust Emmett's judgment when it comes to picking out my drinks next time.

"Go get em', tutz! You're doing great!" Emmett yells out over the music.

"Yeah, Bella, looking real good!" Paul's response catches my attention when I notice him begin to get up from his seat, his eyes lingering a little too long on my body.

I stop reading any more into the man and the creepy vibes he's been putting off and just dance, and when the next song, a slower one, begins to ease through the speakers, a warm hand grips my arm.

"May I have this dance?"

My breath hitches as a firm hand slowly slides around my waist, gently touching the small sliver of exposed skin beneath the hem of my top. As the music continues to hum, hot minty breath lingers entirely too close to my ear as stubble tickles the side of my neck. When I feel a set of lips graze the shell of my ear, it sends shivers down my spine, causing my skin to prick with goose bumps.

"I've missed you. You don't know how much I've wanted to hold you in my arms like this. I've dreamt about you." The confession is whispered so only I can hear it. "Please tell me this isn't wrong."

I don't respond. Instead, I keep my eyes closed and just feel.

Closing the gap between us even further, I can feel his hard body engulf mine as he wraps his arms tighter around my waist, keeping me still against his chest. My heart begins to thrum faster and harder against my ribs as he glides his hands up my back, turning me to face him, as he presses his hard length against me. Bringing my hands up the expanse of his back, I let myself feel the contours of his muscles as they move and twist beneath my fingertips, inhaling the clean, earthy scent emanating off of him.

Just feel Bella.

"You don't know how long I've waited for you," the gruff voice mutters against my skin.

I'm not sure if it's the booze or my heart talking, probably both, but I'm certain that this is what I want. I know it's any been a short while that I've been here, not to mention a short while that I've known him, but it feels right. I know I should be running, heading for those proverbial hills, but I can't. I don't want to. Either way, regret can come later.

With my head fuzzy and my body tingling, I look up into his eyes and say, "Kiss me."

As he slowly brings his hands up to my face, cupping my cheeks, I can feel my blood flowing hot through my veins. Once his sweet, smooth lips touch mine, I silently and mentally chant the mantra, This is right. Please let this is right, over and over again. I want to believe it as his tongue swipes along my bottom lip.

Yes, this is right damn it. This is absolutely right.

The kiss is soft, slow, and momentary as he breaks the contact, raking his teeth across my lip, making my knees weak and causing me to whimper as soon as our mouths part. Staring into his eyes, I see something that James had never shown me. Complete adoration.

As the room begins to spin and twirl and the liquor starts to do its job, I grip him a little tighter around his waist.

"I won't let you fall," he softly says, placing a gentle kiss on my forehead. "Ever."

Without hesitation, I get up on my tip toes, kiss his lips, and say, "Take me home."

Regret can come later.