A/N: As always, thank you for the amazing reviews and for continuing to read! Sorry for the delay in posting…real life has been just gloriously crazy lately. Hopefully the next chapter won't take so long….so how will Bella and Edward's morning progress? Let's take a peek and see…..

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Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or its characters. No copyright infringement is intended.

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Chapter 10

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We lay in silence for several minutes, neither of us making any effort to move or speak. I would love to prolong the moment, the closeness, as long as possible. My eyelids feel heavy, but I know sleep is just not an option. As wonderful as our moment feels, I really need some Advil. And brushing my teeth doesn't sound so bad either.

No matter how slowly I've moved, as I pull away from Edward to sit up, the jarring of the movement causes the ache in my head to intensify. My hands once again seek out my temples and press as if somehow that will force the pain out.

Edward sits up as well, resting on one elbow as he places his other palm softly to my forehead.

"Are you alright?" he asks softly.

I nod my head slightly in response, keeping my eyes closed. I feel the pressure of the mattress give a little and realize he has stood up. Opening my eyes, I cringe again at the light in the room.

"Thank you for taking care of me last night," I say softly, squinting up at him as he removes is soaked shirt, revealing his toned chest.

He cocks his head to the side and looks almost sad for a moment as his eyes bore into mine, searching for what, I don't know. He averts his gaze nervously before he responds. "You're welcome. Thank you for taking care of me for the past four years." With a small smile and a sweep of his hand through his crazy hair, he turns and leaves the room, wearing only a pair of plaid, flannel pajama bottoms.

I remain where I am, wondering why he left so abruptly. If the pain in my head and the ache in my body weren't taking up so much of my concentration, I would start to panic, wondering if maybe this was the start of the cycle all over again. We make some major breakthrough, only for him to pull away immediately after.

No, I must give him the benefit of the doubt. This is hard for him. For a man who is so brilliant, he lacks experience in many things. It has been far too long since he has actually had to answer to anybody for anything. A man like Edward certainly doesn't realize that to an emotional wreck like myself, leaving the room abruptly after a deep, romantic moment doesn't exactly appear like the actions of a man in love.

Why are my feet hurting so badly? Every movement beneath the sheets feels like fire on them. I throw the covers back to inspect the damage. I gasp at what I see – my shins are littered with small bruises and my feet are torn up with blisters, no doubt the product of a certain pair of silver, strappy heels.

Yeah, girl's night out is fun, but fucking hell – if I ever taste another cosmopolitan again, it'll be far too soon.

I carefully move my legs to hang over the side of the bed. I close my eyes and massage my aching thighs with the palms of my hands while I give myself an internal motivational speech to get myself out of bed. Advil. Teeth. Shower. Band-Aids and fuzzy socks for my feet. Maybe some Icy Hot for my thighs.

And food.

My stomach is swirling about and I honestly can't tell if I'm going to puke or if I'm starving.

But food does sound good.

With one last deep breath, I'm ready to move. Just as my toes touch the ground and I steady myself on my feet, Edward returns, bustling through the door in a rush.

"Where are you going? I think you should lie down and rest for a while until your head feels better," he says in his anxious tone while handing me an ice-cold bottle of water and placing two pills in my hand.

I look down, my eyes widening at the water and Advil. Oh! This is not what I had expected at all. I feel my lip start to quiver at the emotion that settles over me. Once again, he has surprised me. He has had his sweet moments over the years, sure, but this morning has been overwhelming. He has made it clear that he needs some adjusting to our new arrangement, but now I see that so do I.

I've never let anyone take care of me. I've never had anyone in my life willing to take care of me. Small things like this take me by surprise and to be honest, make me a little bit uncomfortable. But if he's willing, I clearly need to find it within myself to accept it gracefully.

I shake my head lightly, willing myself to return to the present, causing a solitary tear to travel down my cheek. God, one emotional breakdown per day, please. Is that too much to ask?

With a shaking hand, I pop the medicine in my mouth and swallow it down, delighted at the feel of the cold water. Not realizing how thirsty my poor, alcohol-ridden body is, the water is just pure bliss.

Looking back at his face, I see he looks a bit panicked again. "What's wrong?" he asks. "Are you sick? Do you need to go to the doctor? Maybe you drank too much and you should get checked out."

"Uh…no, I'm fine. It's just a hangover." By the look on his face, he clearly doesn't believe me.

Not wanting to get into another deep discussion this morning, I turn away and make my way to the closet. I gather the necessities in my arms – panties, bra, socks, a soft grey tank top, and a pair of black yoga pants. Turning to head to the bathroom, I am startled to find myself colliding with Edward's bare chest. How on earth does he move so silently? Luckily, his arms reach up to steady me, planting his hands at my hips and squeezing gently.

I can feel the warmth of his hands through the thin material of my t-shirt and it feels incredible. In a moment of split decision, I drop my arms and my clothing tumbles to the floor with a soft, muted thud. I curve into him, pressing my body to his and burrowing my forehead in his heated neck. Without hesitation, his arms embrace me, encircling me with their warmth and protectiveness. It just feels so amazing to be held and I don't want it to end. I want to curl up inside him and stay there forever, safe and warm.

"What are you going to do?" he asks, and for a moment I'm not quite sure what he's asking.

"I'm going to take a shower and then eat something," I respond, my words muffled slightly by the fact that my face is still pressed firmly against his collarbone.

"Would you like to me to cook you something? Or we could go out if you'd prefer."

I close my eyes and smile. Edward's sweet and caring alter ego is still here.

He pulls away, breaking the tight embrace, but his hands still remain firmly planted at my hips, gently kneading the flesh there.

"I could make you some pancakes," he says with a smirk.

I grin up at him…it's not often that Edward makes a funny.

"Let's go out," I say, still grinning, despite the fact that the Advil hasn't kicked in yet.

"Ok. I'll shower after you and then we can leave. Are you sure you feel up to it?"

I nod. He leans forward and kisses my forehead softly before turning to leave.

I decide that I need to dress at least one step up from yoga pants and instead pick out a pair of denim shorts, the bruises on my legs can go to hell – it's a hot summer day and I want to be comfortable.

I shower quickly, scrubbing every inch of my body carefully to remove the grimy feeling leftover from a night full of sweaty dancing. After brushing my teeth, I decide to forego the hairdryer and make-up. It's a Saturday morning and I have a hangover. After breakfast, I plan on doing nothing but lounging around and hydrating, and I definitely look the part now.

When I exit the bathroom, I find Edward sitting bent over on the side of the bed, his elbows resting on his thighs and his shoulders slumped. He sits up as I approach and looks at me carefully.

"Feeling better?"

"Much."

I hesitate. I'm not sure what to say or do. Why is this so awkward? In movies, declarations of love are followed by romantic music and credits rolling. They don't show those awkward moments where the hero and his love are trying to figure out the rules – trying to figure out how to move from one phase of the relationship to another. Ours is certainly an odd situation.

What is the proper protocol for when a contractual marriage becomes a real marriage?

And fuck, what about the contract? Does it go away? Will he just want to amend it to become a standard pre-nup? What if he asks me to attend a dinner party, do I now have the power to say no?

What about my career? I have one more year of school left before I'll have my English degree. I've always wanted to write or work in journalism in some fashion, but I hadn't given it much thought the past few years. Our contract requested that I not work so as to be available to him for business functions as needed. Can I work now? For four years, I've really done nothing useful with my life other than be at his beck and call. What do I even want to do? Maybe I'll volunteer or something.

He wanted a baby. Does he still? I certainly am not ready for that.

Holy shit.

After this morning, I thought we were good. But no, there is still so much to discuss.

But honestly, I just don't feel like it. I don't think I have another heart-to-heart discussion in me today. But it can't really wait, can it? I mean, how do we proceed if we don't know the rules? Fuck, why isn't there a movie about this or something? At least then I'd have something to go off of.

I look at him. He is still regarding me carefully, as if he isn't sure if I'm about to run or have another meltdown or something. I blow out a breath as I stare at him.

I'm sure if this is awkward for me, it must be ten times worse for him. This is, after all, Edward we're talking about. He sharpens his #2 pencils to the exact same length and then throws them out after one use because he doesn't like the look of uneven pencils in his pencil cup. He pays his housekeeper triple the normal salary, but insists on doing most household tasks himself or having me doing them, like making the bed, which must be done a certain way.

He overanalyzes everything. God, I would love to get a peek in his brain or hear his thoughts right now. If I'm freaking out, surely he must be ten steps ahead of me as usual.

Having wanted to do this since our talk ended, but not wanting to subject him to my morning breath, I have the sudden urge to attack him. He really is a beautiful man, issues and all.

Never breaking eye contact, I walk forward slowly, not in a seductive way, but just so he knows my intentions. I'm not ready for sex with him yet – there is still too much to say, too many decisions to make, before I feel comfortable giving myself to him again. I just crave some intimacy, to comfort him, for him to comfort me. For us to have another moment of connection. I just want a kiss. I just want to feel his arms one more time before we delve deeper into analyzing what our future holds.

I lift my leg and carefully place one knee beside his thigh. His face registers surprise, but I just continue to stare into his eyes. With my other knee in place, I straddle his lap, slowly lowering myself to rest on top of him. My hands leave a slow heated trail, tracing the panes of his bare chest and shoulders, to their final resting place at the back of his neck, my fingers tangled in his wild hair. His green eyes bore into mine, filled with questions, uncertainties, and may things I can't recognize. What I do recognize is the look of love and pleading – the same string of emotions I'm feeling at this very moment. We're not where we want to be yet, but we'll get there.

I softly press my lips to his, not moving, just barely touching. He closes the space between us – his arms wrapping themselves around me, the pressure of him holding me so close pulls me down further and I can feel that he's hard and yearning for me. His lips meet mine, increasing the pressure and deepening our kiss. His hands trail softly up my back, pushing my shirt up to gently stroke the soft skin of my bare back. I make no further movement, ignoring the instincts to grind down on him to bring us toward release – this isn't about that. This is about us meeting in the middle, sealing our intentions and making promises to one another that transcend mere physical pleasure. His lips are so soft, his breath minty and cool, the taste of his tongue as it meets mine is enough to leave me gasping and trembling with desire for more. Our movements are synchronized and sensual, speaking the words we have yet to say.

The need for air is what finally drives our moment to an end, but our bodies stay connected, our foreheads resting against one another, our eyes open and full of unspoken words as we gaze at each other. As if the moment has become too intense, he breaks the gaze and pulls me even closer, crushing me to him as he buries his face in the damp hair at my neck. Our breathing remains heavy as I clutch him as if my life depended on it.

One of his hands releases their hold on me, only to move up, pushing the hair off of my face and cupping my neck. I feel his breath, causing me to shiver at the intimacy of it all, as he whispers oh so softly in my ear.

"I love you so much, baby."

Simple words, but they mean everything to me. To hear him say them – without having to make some dramatic escape to pull them out of him and not said in the heat of anger or angst. Just soft whispered words.

I pull back and look in his eyes, hoping he'll see the emotions behind my reply.

"I love you, too."

With one last chaste kiss, I stand up and smile at him as I help him to his feet.

"I'll meet you downstairs," I say as I turn to leave.

With a few minutes to kill, I realize I have yet to check on Rose today. As I dial her number, I hope she's not feeling the same level of pain I am. Luckily, the pain medicine has done wonders already – hopefully she and Alice are at the same point in their recovery.

The phone rings three times before I hear the click of someone answering.

"Hey, Bells! I hope you are in better shape than my Rosie this morning." Expecting Rose, Emmett's deep voice startles me. I can picture his big smile through his joking greeting and it brings a grin to my face.

"I don't know about that. I thought I might actually die there for a few minutes when I woke up. How are Rose and Alice?"

"Well, she and Alice are currently passed out on the living room and my favorite recliner is covered in vomit, so I'm going to say not so good. Damn, for such a little thing, that Alice can sure make a fucking mess." He ends his speech with a laugh. Rose is so lucky to have him. I can't help but chuckle. There really are very few men who would laugh about their wife coming home plastered and her friend puking all over the place.

"I'm so sorry, Emmett. I can't believe we drank so much."

"No need to apologize. I got plenty of entertainment last night when they came stumbling in. Rosie kept going on about cutting off Edward's nuts and wanting to eat a hot dog. I couldn't even understand half the shit she was saying. Then they both just passed out on the floor. It was fucking crazy. I was afraid to move them in case they started with the spewing again."

I laugh at his colorful descriptions. I can just picture drunk Rose going off on a tangent. She can be downright scary sober, I can only imagine her descriptive language when coupled with a dozen cosmos.

"Will you tell Rose to call me later when she's awake and coherent?"

"Sure thing, Bells. Make sure to drink lots of water. And probably a beer too…that always helps."

"Will do, Em. Thanks..I love you guys."

"Love you too, Belly."

As I press the End button, I hear a throat clearing behind me. I turn around to find a freshly showered Edward, looking as handsome as ever in a navy blue t-shirt and a pair of jeans. He rarely dresses so casual, though I certainly wish he would more often. He looks so at ease and lively when he's not all intimidating in a power tie.

"Is Rose alright?" he asks, his voice laced with genuine concern.

I nod and smile. "Yes, Emmett's taking care of her. Emmett said Rose and Alice are passed out on the floor still. Seems I'm in much better shape than them this morning."

He smiles and holds his hand out. "Let's get you some food," he says as his hand envelopes my much smaller one.

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Seated in a booth at the back of the diner, we are fortunate enough to fairly far away from the nearest occupied table. It's time to man up and ask him some of the questions that have been plaguing my mind and at least we have a small bit of privacy for this tough conversation.

I am working on my second Diet Coke, while Edward is nursing a cup of coffee. My hangover thirst has outweighed my need to for daintiness and polite table manners as I greedily suck down the liquid.

Despite my fixation on pancakes in the last twelve hours, the second I saw the picture of French toast, I changed my mind. By the time the waitress places a huge platter with French toast, scrambled eggs, sausage, and hashbrowns in front of me, my mouth is watering and I immediately begin stuffing my face.

Edward chuckles at my antics as he approaches his omelet in a much more civilized fashion.

We eat mostly in silence, given the fact that I am much too focused on my food to have any sort of intelligent conversation yet. In spite of me eating like a gorilla, Edward finishes long before me and I decide to take a break from feeding my face to broach some of the topics I was hoping to discuss.

"So, I want to ask you some things." I say, staring down at my plate while pushing a piece of sausage around nervously with my fork.

He clears his throat and in my peripheral vision, I can see him fidgeting nervously before gripping his coffee cup with both hands.

"Alright. What would you like to ask?" he says softly, the nervousness seeping into his voice.

Blowing out a breath I hadn't even realized I'd been holding, still staring downward, I let the words fall from my mouth in a rush before I lose my resolve.

"Does this change our agreement?"

Silence.

I wait a full minute before I finally gain the courage to face him head on. I'm surprised to see he looks completely confused. He opens his mouth and then shuts it, clearly trying to work out what to say.

"I…well, I kind of assumed that was a given."

Now I'm confused.

"What?" I ask.

"Well, I mean, of course it changes the agreement. I kind of assumed that the contract was null and void now. Am I wrong?" The confidence has returned to his voice.

"That's what I'd like, but I didn't know if you felt the same. I mean, there are a lot of details to discuss. Like, what about your business dinners and things? Do you still want me to go?"

His brow furrows and he looks taken aback. I don't understand why he looks so offended. It's a legitimate question to ask, isn't it?

"I had kind of hoped that as my wife, you would want to attend events with me. I certainly won't make you go anywhere you don't want to, but I guess I didn't realize you were unhappy with that part of our arrangement."

"No! I'm not saying that…I guess what I'm asking is what you expect of me. I've lived by the contract for so long, I don't know what everything will be like without it. I mean, like can I get a job? I graduate next year and I'd like to do something useful with my time. I know you didn't want me working, but does that change now?"

He takes a deep breath and contemplates his answer for a few moments. He seems hesitant, like he's afraid to give the wrong answer. Before his over-analytical mind can take over, I intervene.

"Edward, I'm not trying to back you into a corner or anything…I just want to know where we go from here. There are things I'd like to do for myself, like a job for instance, but I think they should be joint decisions between us. I guess I want to know what your expectations are. Do you want everything to stay the same or can we talk about making some changes?" I sound panicked and rushed in my little speech. I'm afraid once again that I'm pushing him towards withdrawing back into himself.

His face softens and I immediately relax, knowing that he's still here – still with me and willing to communicate.

"Bella, I want you to be my wife. That's what I expect of you. I want you to be happy. I want us to be able to talk about things. You know that you don't have to work – I want to take care of you. But I understand if you want to get a job or pursue something outside the home. I know we have some things to work out, but let's take them one at a time and talk about them as they come. I don't know what our lives will be like now – I think that's something we have to let fall into place." He reaches over and grabs my hand, squeezing it to punctuate his words. He's right and the relief I feel at hearing him say it is immense. For once, we have the freedom to explore, grow, change – things we've never had to do when our lives were dictated by the agreement.

"Edward?"

"Yes?"

I can't seem to find the right words to ask my next question.

"Do you…um…were you serious about wanting a child?" I ask, my cheeks blushing pink. Why on earth I would feel embarrassed to ask this, I have no idea. I've shared this man's bed and we've gone through two weeks of pure hell – surely, I should be able to talk about children.

"I do want us to have children. Later. I'm sorry about the way I approached that subject with you. If I could take it back, I would. I think we need to work on us first and then we can talk about it again."

He smiles at me, a smile that is lighter and less intense than I've seen in a long time from him.

"Will you go out to dinner with me?" he asks, the smile widening, as if he's just solved a riddle or something. He looks so young, so carefree and happy suddenly.

The irony of it causes me to giggle. The sweetness of his proposal, the cuteness of his smile – we've been married for years, yet this man has just asked me out on our real first date.

"I would love to go out to dinner with you."

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A/N: So, I know I promised a good, lemony chapter and I had written it in, but I just don't think Bella was quite ready for that. She just couldn't relax enough to let it happen, so we need to be patient with her. Up next, their first date….stay tuned! Thank you so much for sticking with this story!

By the way – two more days left to read, review and vote for your favorite entry in the "For the Love of a Man in Uniform" contest! Check it out under FF penname "A Man in Uniform OS Contest"….one of the entries is mine and it could sure use some love!