Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns all.
Rated M for several reasons.
Chapter 25 Snow Date
BPOV
My fellow passengers and I stumble off the plane blinking at the bright lights and snow of the airport, even the stewardesses look like they want to fall to their knees and kiss the asphalt. What a fucking flight, the guy in the seat next to me thought he was having a heart attack and I really couldn't blame him.
"Rose!" I squeal when I spot her waiting, launching myself into her arms.
"Rough flight?" She chokes, staggering under my weight.
"You have no idea."
"Did you have a come to Jesus moment?" She laughs, channelling her inner Em into the hug she gives me back.
"No, I had a change of underwear moment." I groan into her neck. "I'm clearly not that spiritual."
She was still laughing when we got to the car.
...
Esme welcomes us both with customary eggnog and Carlisle welcomes us with his customary inappropriate aplomb before he takes our bags up to our rooms.
"You're staying for New Year?" Esme asks as we settle in the kitchen.
"I'm not sure." I hedge, I have an open ticket.
"Well you know you're welcome." She assures me. "Now, who wants something to eat before the madness descends?"
...
Madness.
I haven't even seen him, I don't even know if he's here but already the house is swarming with people, some random, some not, all enjoying Ma and Pa Cullen's generous hospitality. I've always loved Christmas Eve here, I know its drink fuelled but the vibes are always so positive and happy.
"Boo." A velvet voice croons, long arms capturing me around the waist. "You ready for dinner?"
"Edward." I squeak.
"Come on." He urges, turning me easily in his arms. "Let's go . . . ."
...
"You're quiet." He observes as we turn onto the highway.
"I know." I sigh. "I'm sorry, this just feels different."
"It does doesn't it?" He responds, taking my hand in his and resting them together on the centre console of Carlisle's Mercedes.
I want to know if he thinks different good or different bad but I won't ask in case he expects an answer to the same question. I couldn't right now, I'm perfectly comfortable with our hands twined together but there's something seriously weird going on in my stomach.
Instead of thinking about it I let my attention be absorbed by the fresh snow that's begun to fall . . . .
...
I have serious love for Esteban's and the man himself, who greets us effusively, taking our heavy coats and shooing us over to a nice secluded table for two. And oh happy day, he summons the waitress who brings us each a steaming cup of Glühwein. Edward scowls playfully at me as I take his too, though we both know he won't even sniff the barmaid's apron if he's driving.
By the time I've moaned my way appreciatively through both, mercifully small, cups he's making a point of studying the menu intently and pretending to ignore me.
I pick up my own menu, smirking behind it because I know what he's going to order, Esteban's chef is German and Edward has the Wiener schnitzel every time we come here . . . .
...
"No seriously, Mom thought I was going to be a concert pianist." He laughs. "It was the long fingers and the fact that I was the only one of us who wasn't tone deaf."
"You were always playing one instrument or another." I remember.
"I like music." He chuckles. "I just grew out of Mom's faith that I was going to be the next big thing before she did."
"Renee dreamed I was going to be a prima ballerina."
I narrow my eyes at him before he can laugh.
"I bet you look very fetching in a tutu." He manages eventually.
"Wouldn't you like to know?" I simper, batting my eyelashes at him. "I'm surprisingly flexible for a klutz."
"I had noticed." He purrs, waggling his eyebrows at me.
Esteban breaks into our laughter to see what we want for dessert.
"She'll have banoffee pie with a mountain of whipped cream." Edward orders.
"And he'll have apple pie and ice cream." I add.
"Bueno!"
...
Esteban fussed around us as we bundled up to make the dash through the still falling snow to the car, sending us off with a flask of Glühwein and a box of mince pies. Edward had to steady me as I tottered across the parking lot in my unsuitable high heels and I cursed Rose and her 'it's a date not a nature hike' comment.
We had to wait for the heater to clear the car windows before we could leave and the ease from the restaurant slowly leaked into the frigid air. Or at least mine did because I am on a date. With Edward. This is not just us being us, this is us being deliberately us.
Great, I'm nervous again, my inner voice is incoherent and that weird feeling is back in my stomach.
Nevertheless I cast a sideways look at him. He's concentrating on the road but even with his lips pursed and his brow slightly furrowed he's an incoherence makingly attractive man. If this is a date, does that mean he's going to kiss me? The idea makes my weird stomach curl in anticipation and fear. Edward and I have always been affectionate, comfortable in each other's personal space, we're holding hands now, even though he should be using both to steer the car which is losing traction from time to time in the snow. I should probably give him his hand back so he can use it but instead I squeeze it unthinkingly and he turns his head, briefly giving me the full on effect of that crooked smile . . . .
"Shit!"
Edward snatches his hand back but it's too late, the heavy car has started to slide as he turned it into the driveway and it isn't going to stop. Very slowly, majestically even, we glide into the snow covered lump that looms up in front of us, which teeters for a moment and then gives way allowing the front of the car to drop down with an ominous thump.
"Oh shit." Edward groans, switching off the engine and running his hand through his hair. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." I snicker. "And oh shit is right, you've just totalled one of your Mom's stone lions and run your Dad's car into the ditch."
"Shit." He repeats. "I'm so going to get grounded for this."
I can't help it, I start laughing properly. I'm not sure if it's the crestfallen expression on Edward's face or the idea of Carlisle grounding his thirty year old son for paying more attention to his date than his driving.
"I don't know why you're laughing." Edward chuckles beside me. "We're going have to walk the rest of the way."
Oh shit, my five hundred dollar shoes!
The icy air hits me as Edward opens his door and comes round to mine, both of us still laughing though mine cuts off abruptly when I take his hand to step out of the car and my foot disappears in snow up to the ankle.
"Ew!" I squeal, yanking it out. "Cold and wet!"
"Alright." He sighs with exaggerated patience. "I am nothing if not gentlemanly. Climb up spider monkey."
And he flashes me that crooked smile before turning to present me with his broad back.
For a nanosecond I'm torn between asserting my womanly independence and my loathing of cold wet things. And then I use my boasted flexibility to twist out of the car and launch myself at his back. He staggers for a moment, both of us laughing again, and then he manages to catch my failing legs and fold them round his waist as my arms fasten securely and round his neck.
"Ready?" He asks, using his foot to slam to car door behind us.
"Ready."
It's so quiet and still, the only sound the crunch of his footsteps and the only illumination that weird light you get from the moon on snow. Even though I know we'll see the lights of the house as soon as we round the bend in the drive, for the time being at least, it feels like we're the only two people in the world. I quite like it . . . .
His steps begin to slow.
"Are you okay?" I whisper in his ear, feeling guilty for letting him carry me.
"More than, there's just something I need to do before we get back to the house though."
"There is?" I ask in surprise.
"There is. Give me a second, it's around here somewhere . . . . Ah!"
Recognising the snow covered mound beneath me as one of the rocks that line the drive I release his neck and slither down his back onto it, wobbling for a moment before I find my footing.
"That's better." He sighs, turning to face me.
"I'm sorry, I can walk the rest of the . . . ."
A long finger is suddenly pressed to my lips.
"That's not why I stopped."
"Oh."
He's close enough for his warm coffee scented breath to bathe my face.
"Thank you for coming to dinner with me tonight." He murmurs, removing his finger.
Normally I'd make some wise crack about never turning down a meal at Esteban's but for some reason I'm not remotely tempted.
"Thank you for taking me."
There are snowflakes in his hair and on his eye lashes, he's never looked so beautiful.
"I want to kiss you."
Bereft of words to form a response I hitch in a breath as he moves closer to me, hands reaching up to cup my face.
"Bella . . . ."
His lips are warm and soft, purposeful, yet gentle and my eyes drift closed as my body sways closer to his. All conscious thought fleeing. . . . there is only sensation . . . . pliant lips . . . . flipping in my stomach . . . . the subtle sting of melting snowflakes on exposed skin . . . . a perfect moment.
He hums as our mouths break apart, both of us breathing far too heavily for such an innocuous kiss and I can't help the shudder that runs through me.
"I'm sorry." He says, immediately contrite. "Its cold, let's get back to the house."
This time he sweeps me up bridal style and I just close my eyes and go with it, my forehead warmed by the skin of his neck.
Unable to open the door with his arms full he kicks it a couple of times until someone gets the message.
"Bella!" Esme gasps. "Edward, oh my god, what happened?"
...
Our dramatic snow covered arrival sent almost everyone else scurrying off into the night, anxious to get home while the roads were still passable. In no time at all it was just the family gathered in the den to rib Edward while he soaked his poor blue feet in hot water and smugly swigged down the Glühwein.
I wasn't surprised or perturbed to find myself sat next to him on the floor, my head resting against his knee, his free hand stroking my hair. Or that the low hum of voices sent me off to sleep . . . .
...
Light jostling and a change in temperature wakes up my inner grump, if not all of the rest of me.
"Oh shush." Edward chides softly. "I'm carrying you up to bed, what more do you want?"
"Cold." I grumble, clinging onto him when he tries to lower me onto the bed, I can feel the chill radiating of the sheets.
"Bella, you have to let . . . . whoa!"
He overbalances falling with me onto the bed and cursing softly, not that I mind, he's warm.
"Good night." He murmurs, pressing a kiss to my temple as he tries to extract himself from my clutches.
"Cold." I insist, refusing to let go.
"There will be sleep humping if I stay." He warns me with a quiet laugh.
"Warm now, get told off in morning."
I'm already on the cusp of falling back to sleep as he pulls up the comforter and wraps his arms around me properly.