Disclaimer: All characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter 11: Christmas Eve

I had mixed feelings about Christmas this year. On one hand, the restaurant was busy, and it was easy to throw myself into work and not dwell on the fact that this was the first year I wouldn't celebrate with my father. I missed him more than I could say, and each day served as a reminder that he was no longer with me.

On the other hand, I had formed an unexpected friendship with Edward and wanted explore it. We'd talked on the phone almost every day since the Napa tour the previous week and had met for lunch several times. He was surprisingly easy to be around, and I looked forward to spending time with him.

Confidential was going to be open through the 23rd, but I thought it was important for the staff to spend the holidays with family, so we were closing Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Emmett was nice enough to invite me to Christmas dinner at his place, so I wouldn't be alone. Rosalie and a few of Emmett's friends and family would be there. It was nice to be included, and I was really feeling at home with my new friends.

I finished up the last of my Christmas shopping early on the 24th and found myself with nothing to do – something that almost never happened.

I pulled out my phone and texted Edward.

You busy right now? ~B

Just working. Want to grab an early lunch? ~E

Meet you at the café in Calistoga where I told you off? ~B

Not my best moment. But they do have good food. See you in 45 mins. ~E

I smiled at his text. There weren't very many times I had seen Edward's carefully constructed walls come down, so I relished every opportunity to see him act carefree.

I arrived at the café a little early, and since it wasn't quite the rush hour, I was able to procure a seat by the window. I saw Edward pull up and park. He climbed gracefully out of his car and slipped change into the parking meter. He had no idea women's heads were turning even at his simple act. He dialed his phone as he walked toward the café. I never broke my stare.

By the looks of it, the conversation was a little tense, and I could see Edward convert back into business mode. He stopped walking right out front and faced the street, giving me (and several other interested parties) an unobstructed view of his ass. I felt moderately guilty ogling him so blatantly - especially when he seemed so tense - but not enough to actually stop doing it.

Eventually he clicked the phone off and came inside. He smiled widely when he saw me and came over to the table.

"Have you already ordered?" He pointed over his shoulder to the counter where orders were placed.

"Not yet. I was waiting for you."

He pursed his lips endearingly. "Thanks. You didn't have to do that. I'll go order for us. What do you want?"

I glanced over his shoulder at the large menu posted on the wall behind the counter. "Can you get me the smoked turkey and Gouda Panini and a Pellegrino?"

He patted the back of the chair. "You got it. I'll be right back."

Of course, I ogled him as he walked away.

I shook my head and chuckled to myself. The poor guy couldn't even put money the parking meter or order a sandwich without being stared at.

After a few minutes, he returned with our drinks and sat down opposite me.

"Is everything okay?" I asked as I poured my Pellegrino into a glass.

"Why do you ask?"

I nodded toward the front sidewalk. "I saw you on the phone outside, and you were doing that thing with your eyebrows."

"What thing with my eyebrows?" He eyed me suspiciously.

"You know, that thing." I put my fingers up between my eyes and scrunched up my face.

He laughed and looked shocked. "I do not make that face."

"You most certainly do. But don't worry, you still looked as handsome as ever."

Did I really just say that out loud?

I blushed furiously and looked down at my drink as if it contained a cure for my humiliation.

He licked his lips and smirked. "Good to know – both about the eyebrows…and the other."

After a moment or two, my embarrassment subsided enough so I could speak. "Seriously, though, is everything okay?"

He glanced down and paused a moment before speaking. "Yeah…things are just a little complicated."

"Complicated how?"

"I was supposed to go to my parents' house tonight for a little get together, but…I'm not…and my father's not happy about it."

Just then, our food was delivered, and we both sat up straighter to allow the server to put our plates down. I hadn't been aware of how close we'd been sitting but instantly missed the warmth from his body heat.

"So, why aren't you going? Aren't you close to your family?" I asked as I picked up my Panini and took a bite.

He sighed loudly. "I am close to them. It's just…I don't get along with some of their friends who will be there tonight. It's just better this way. I'm spending tomorrow with them anyway."

"That's too bad you can't go. Or don't want to."

He shrugged me off; a sign I was coming to know meant he was done talking about it. "Yeah. So, what about you? Since you aren't with Peter, are you spending the rest of the week with your family?"

I felt myself heat up. Most of my friends knew about my family situation, so I wasn't used to having to talk about it.

"I…uh…I don't have any family. I'm an only child, and my dad…died this past year." The silence between us became as thick as the San Francisco fog.

I didn't know why, but I couldn't look at him, afraid my eyes held a window to my thoughts, and I didn't want to be that vulnerable.

I felt his fingers graze the top of my hand, which was fidgeting with the paper napkin on the table. He wrapped his fingers around my hand and squeezed. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

I slowly withdrew my hand away from his and took a sip of my water, trying not to make a scene and cry in front of him or melt under the warmth of his touch. He was just being kind, and I didn't want to look like a basket case.

"It's okay. There was no reason for you to know."

"You aren't spending the holidays alone, are you?" I could hear the concern in his voice.

I shook my head but kept my gaze down. "No, I'm spending tomorrow with my friend Emmett and his girlfriend Rosalie. You've met, if you remember."

"And tonight?" I could feel his eyes attempting to meet mine, but I didn't give in. "It's Christmas Eve."

"Tonight…I have no plans." Saying it out loud accentuated my isolation.

"Yes, you do. You're spending it with me. It's the perfect solution for a pair of holiday singletons."

I finally looked up and met his eyes. He looked sincere and kind. "Edward…it's Christmas…you should…"

He shook his head. "I won't take no for an answer. Listen, I didn't have any plans anyway. It'll take my mind off things, and I'd hate to think of you spending Christmas Eve alone."

I sighed. "I couldn't ask that –"

"Bella, stop. I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to." His demeanor shifted, and he looked suddenly uncomfortable. "Unless…you don't want to spend it with me."

"No!" I reached my hand across the table and rested my hand on his forearm to stop him from jumping to conclusions. "It's not that. I'd love to spend the evening with you."

He smiled widely as I withdrew my hand and turned my attention back to my food.

"I'll make you dinner," I blurted out.

"No, I'll cook. That is, if you don't mind."

Most of the time, my friends wanted me to do the cooking. I didn't even think twice about it. I enjoyed it, and they seemed to like what I made, so everyone was happy. People often felt intimidated cooking for me, so this was an unexpected surprise.

"I don't mind," I said as I took a sip of my water. "But at least let me bring the wine."

He laughed. "The wine I've got covered. How to impress a chef such as yourself with my cooking? That's a different story."

"You don't have to impress me. It's enough that you want to spend your Christmas Eve with me." I looked over at him and hoped I had conveyed my sincerity. He met my gaze, and I was struck by the warmth and kindness in his green eyes. I always felt such strong reactions when he looked at me. However, there was no trace of the ferocious animosity that had been there weeks earlier. Instead, a feeling of comfort washed over me. I couldn't help but smile, and Edward gave me a warm smile in return and then quickly looked away.

"Don't worry. I'll think of something."

We finished up our lunch and made arrangements to have dinner at his place. I had to admit it sounded a hell of a lot better than being alone to stew in my sorrow.

I spent the afternoon trying to find a gift to give Edward. I wanted it to be simple and appropriate for our burgeoning friendship. I looked in a few boutiques and saw plenty of things that would look great on him. I imagined Edward would look great in anything…or nothing. I shook that thought from my head; it definitely wouldn't help me get through dinner. In the end, I decided against clothing because it seemed so impersonal, much like the shirt and tie I'd sent Peter. I didn't want to get Edward the same gift I'd gotten Peter. I wanted it to be meaningful. Plus, I had no idea what his size was.

I stumbled into a candy store, the heavenly scent of chocolate drawing me in. The store was in full holiday spirit with gift baskets assembled and ready to buy. On every table was some delicacy sure to impress even the most discerning palates.

I smiled as I realized what I wanted to do for Edward in appreciation.

After buying a few of the chocolates for future consumption, I drove to the grocery store and shopped for my ingredients. Edward was cooking dinner, but there was nothing that said I couldn't make him a special dessert...or two or three.

I spent the better part of the afternoon slaving away in the kitchen. I didn't know what Edward's particular tastes were, so I made a few small things. It made me happy to repay him in some way for his thoughtfulness.

I showered and got ready, feeling more and more excited with each passing moment. The dread of the holidays seemed to fade when I was with Edward, and the thought of him cooking for me made me feel incredibly grateful.

I grabbed my treats and a bottle of wine and headed out to celebrate Christmas Eve. If anyone had told me a few months ago that'd I'd be spending tonight with Edward Cullen of all people, I would have thought them crazy. It certainly didn't seem so crazy now.

As I drove to Edward's house, I contemplated how quickly things had changed between us. I had gone from thinking he was an insanely attractive ass, to a really nice, intriguing guy, who happened to have a great ass. My heart still raced whenever he was around, but I'd also become comfortable and familiar with him in a short time.

Thinking about Edward so fondly made me feel guilty. Earlier that day, Peter and I had talked briefly about how much had changed since our last Christmas Eve together. Whereas last year we'd been together, this year we were spending it apart and with separate friends. It was indicative of what was coming.

I hadn't told him much about Edward. I didn't want anything to distract from the issues between us or have him thinking someone else was the reason for my decision. I knew I needed to end things, and the longer I drew it out the harder it seemed. I told myself I just had to wait until the holidays were over. As I pulled into Edward's driveway, I felt surer than ever of my desire to be on my own and ready to face my new life with my new friends.

Edward's house was set back off the road a bit, and the long tree-lined driveway reminded me of something I'd expect to see on the East Coast. When I finally arrived at his house, I smiled; it suited him. The architecture was consistent with much of the Valley – rustic mission style complete with climbing ivy vines. It had impeccably maintained gardens and a stone-paved walkway leading up to the house.

"Come on in," I heard Edward yell as I rang the doorbell.

Tentatively, I pushed the painted wood door open and peeked inside. The interior was clean and well decorated. I half expected to see a bachelor pad, but it was obvious I'd underestimated Edward once again. The décor was perfectly suited to the house, the warm tones of the furniture accentuated by the soft, glowing lights of the room. Adorning each wall was a beautiful piece of art or sculpture. There was soft, classical music playing in the background and a wonderful smell of something roasting. It was lush and serene.

I followed the sounds to the kitchen and found Edward in a chef's apron, covered in food.

I covered my mouth with my free hand and tried not to laugh. He noticed and dried his hands on his apron before walking to assist me with my stuff.

He glared at me playfully when he saw I'd brought food. "I thought I said I was cooking tonight?"

"It's just dessert. You can still be the master of your domain tonight."

He turned then as a pan of boiling liquid began to overflow. "Shit, that's the rice!"

"You sure you don't want any help?" I asked, setting the rest of my stuff on the expansive countertop.

"I know it doesn't seem like it, but I've got everything under control. Why don't you pour us both a drink?"

I grabbed the bottle of wine I brought and began to look for an opener. "Red, okay?"

"Red's great. The opener's in the drawer by the fridge."

I hopped up onto the counter, after pouring us both a glass of wine, and watched Edward work. It was hard not to jump in and help him, but I held back. The fact that he felt comfortable cooking for me made me happy. I doubt I'd feel so comfortable picking out a bottle of wine for him. As it was, the only reason I brought the one I had was because Rosalie had given it to me as a gift, and I knew she knew her stuff.

"Can I have a tour of your place now that dinner seems to be under control?" I hopped off the counter and walked into the adjoining family room, admiring the exquisite art. The house was set up in a U shape, with the kitchen, dining and living room on one side and the bedrooms on the other. The walls were floor to ceiling glass and looked out onto the hills.

Edward took off his apron and came into the room. "I got that one from an estate sale," Edward said over my shoulder as I stared a one of his paintings. "The owner had no idea it was an original. I offered to pay more, but he wouldn't let me. It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"You certainly have an eye for art. I presume it's your influence on that front at Masenry as well?"

"Well, I didn't want to give up my former passion entirely."

Edward and I talked and laughed as though we'd been old friends as he walked me around his house. Each room had a distinct feel, a personality, yet they all flowed well together. I tried not to act overly interested, but you can tell a lot about a person by the way they live. Since Edward wasn't exactly an open book, I soaked up information where I could get it.

Soon enough, a timer went off, and Edward pulled a gorgeous roast chicken from the oven.

"That smells delicious," I said, walking around the counter to get a better look.

He smiled and shrugged. "Barefoot Contessa. What can I say?"

I raised my eyebrows. "Ina's great. Is this the Engagement Chicken?"

"Engagement Chicken?" He looked confused.

"Yeah, the one made with lemon and thyme? She calls it engagement chicken because every time someone makes it for her boyfriend, they get engaged. It's that good!"

"Well, I can't vouch for the engagement," he said with a smirk, leaving me flushed. "But, it should be edible."

I tried to make myself useful, pouring water into glasses and lighting the candles. Edward had really gone all out to make this nice, and it felt great.

"This looks and smells amazing," I said as we sat down at the dining room table. "Thank you for having me."

His face grew serious. "Bella, trust me when I say this, there's no place I'd rather be right now. Thank you for coming."

He held up his glass, and I brought mine up to meet it in a toast.

I didn't know if it was the delicious food, or the wine, or the glowing embers of the fireplace, but I hadn't felt so whole and happy in a while. Edward had welcomed me into his home, and that was exactly what it felt like – a home.

I settled on the couch in front of the fire with my feet tucked under me. "Tell me how you got started in the business."

Edward sat on the other end of the sofa and set his wine glass down on the coffee table as he pulled a throw blanket over our legs. "I grew up here, watching Carlisle run the business. At first, when I went away to college, it was my intention not to come back. I majored in Art History and wanted to move to New York or San Francisco to open a gallery. Then, one summer toward my senior year, I did an internship in New York, and it totally changed my perspective. I wasn't used to that lifestyle, and I didn't like it. Things happened. I changed. That's why I have such a negative view of New York. That summer jaded me."

"There are a lot of nice people in New York, you know?" I said, even though I'd often felt the same way as Edward about the city.

"Oh, I know. But I was young, and that trip changed my opinion about what I wanted and what was important. When I came back to California, I started talks with Carlisle about eventually running the business. My sister, Jane, had no interest, so I stepped up. Tanya always hated it here, but it's always been home to me. Anyway…it just seemed natural for me to take over."

Color flooded his face, and his brows drew together.

"Who's Tanya?"

He looked away and shook his head. "She's just an ex, and I won't talk about her. I shouldn't have brought it up in the first place."

"Why? You can talk to me about your relationships, you know. We're friends now, right?"

He snapped his head to me, his eyes intense and angry. "Yes, Bella, were friends, but I'm not talking about this tonight. Really, there isn't anything for us to discuss. Especially when it comes to relationships."

The conversation had taken a downward turn, and I didn't like it. I wanted to calm him; he seemed so upset. Obviously this Tanya person had done a number on him. I wanted him to open up to me, but then I remembered when we were at Masenry and he asked me about Peter. I distinctly remembered snapping at him. I understood his reluctance to discuss it in that moment.

"Maybe we should agree not to talk about our relationships."

He nodded, grabbed his wine glass and took a sip, waiting, thinking before he spoke. "Yeah, that's probably a good idea."

Talking to Edward, although it had gotten easier, was still challenging. He wasn't the type of guy to open up easily, which was frustrating at times. I seemed to be doing most of the talking, and he seemed content with that.

I wanted to know more. "Do you regret not working in the art world?"

"I do work in the art world. It's just a different kind of art."

"That's an interesting perspective."

He sighed his subject-changing sigh. "Tell me about the dessert you brought," he said rather abruptly.

"Do you mind if I make myself at home?" I asked, as I stood and pointed into the kitchen.

"Of course not. It's your domain, not mine."

I pointed a finger at him. "You just stay there. Let me do this."

He put his hands up in surrender and smiled. I wanted to bottle the feeling I got when he smiled at me like that.

I returned a few minutes later with a plate laden with goodies. None of them was big, just slightly larger than bite-sized. I didn't want to make too much, but I didn't know what he'd like.

Edward sat forward as I set down the platter. "Wow, that looks incredible. I think something that looks this delicious calls for a finishing touch."

He stood and walked around the couch. "Come on. Let me show you something."

He put his hand on the small of my back as I walked by him, and I wanted to melt into him. This night had been so perfect my judgment was getting clouded.

He led me down a short hallway to a small circular staircase that headed down. My heels echoed as we walked down the staircase and came to a rounded dark wood door with a frosted glass inset.

He turned the handle and pushed open the door. The temperature was noticeably cooler than the rest of the house, and it soon became obvious what this room was.

"Wine cellar," he said as he nodded into the room. "I thought you should pick out something to go with those amazing desserts upstairs."

I had seen plenty of wine cellars, but never something so nice in someone's home, not even Aro's. It was huge and tiled with multi-colored slate, with wine racks stacked from the floor to the ceiling.

"Wow, Edward, this is amazing!" I felt like a kid in a candy store.

"This way." He led me to a corner of the room and pointed. "These are my dessert wines. Why don't you take a look and see if you find something you like."

I didn't really have much experience with dessert wines, so I was at a bit of a loss. "Can you help me? I don't know what to pick."

Edward's fingers grazed the tops of each of the bottles as he considered each one. I wished I knew his thought process. He finally settled on a smaller bottle, pulling it from the rack and handing it to me.

I cradled the bottle in my palm and glanced at the label. "Dolce?"

"The best."

"How can I argue with a wine expert?" I said playfully.

He smirked. "You can't."

We climbed the stairs and made our way into the living room again, which seemed incredibly warm and inviting by comparison. I huddled on the couch with my legs curled underneath me while Edward opened the wine.

"So, tell me what treats you made," Edward said as he handed me the newly poured glass of Dolce and sat near my feet.

"It's nothing, really." I pointed to each dessert. "This is a flourless, chocolate tartlet. It's very rich. Don't let its size fool you – it packs a punch."

"So size doesn't matter?" He smirked at me over the top of his glass.

I smiled, enjoying his harmless flirting. "Only when I don't get my fair share."

"Duly noted." He laughed, and I gently nudged his leg with my foot.

"Anyway, like I was saying, this one is a Dulce de Leche crème brûlée. It's got a great caramel flavor. And this one is a mini bread pudding. And finally, I threw together a fruit tart. I…uh…wanted to cover my bases as far as your sweet tooth went."

"You made all this? Today?" He seemed genuinely shocked.

"Well, yeah. I didn't have much to do this afternoon, and it was fun. I just wanted to do something nice for you since you were so thoughtful having me here tonight."

"It's so much work. Wow."

I pointed my thumb at my chest. "Chef, remember? It's what I do."

"I should invite you over more often." He laughed as he cut a few of the delicacies in half and served us both.

I liked the idea of spending more time with Edward. It was nice to be with him, and even when he was being closed off, he made me feel secure, safe.

His eyes closed as he took a bit of the chocolate cake. "Mmmm…I can't believe you made this. You are a miracle worker in the kitchen."

Note to self: he liked chocolate. A lot.

I held up my glass of wine and set my plate down in my lap. "Thank you for a lovely evening. You made Christmas Eve fun when I didn't think it was possible this year."

"I'm so glad, Bella."

I took a sip of the wine and sighed. It was the most delightful array of flavors I'd ever had. It was a perfectly sweetened dessert in a liquid form.

"This" – I held up my glass – "is heaven."

He reached his glass up to meet mine. "This is, indeed."

The last thing I remembered was talking to Edward by the fire in his living room. I wanted to know so much about him, but he always had a way of deflecting the conversation. I wasn't sure if it was the wine or just how comfortable I felt, but I dozed off at some point in the night.

I couldn't be sure what exactly happened. I vaguely remembered soft fingers brushing the hair away from my face as I lay my head down on a pillow. I remembered being covered up by a soft blanket and my shoes being slipped from my feet. And I remembered soft lips touching my temple wishing me a peaceful sleep. "Merry Christmas," they'd said softly.

Was I dreaming that?

A/N: *chanting* Someone's got a little crush…And someone else thinks her friend is totally HAWT! LOL.

Pics for this chapter are on my profile.

Thanks for all the support this week. Let me just say that I've rewritten this particular chapter about 10 times and the next ones almost as many times. I'm telling you, I'm a hot mess over this story. But it's a good thing! I look forward to Tuesdays and Fridays. I can't wait to see what you all think. So, thanks for taking the time to read, especially if you tell me what you think. I'm just giving you a head's up – I'm in school right now and my work is crazy. I'm going to do my best to keep up with the 2 chapters a week schedule, but for one week, I may have to only do one update. I should have more time to write in about 2 weeks. I'm really going to try, though.

Okay, remember me talking about how many times this has been rewritten? Yeah well, each time, my poor betas Viola Cornuta and Twihart, get it again. And TwiHart has me calling her at home when she's trying to spend time with her family! Seriously, they dedicate so much time to helping me! I can't say enough.

My pre-readers are awesome too! *smooches*

Next up, a surprise for New Year's!