a/n I've been wanting to do this one for a long time, and I think now's as good of a time as any. And somebody requested it. Set about a month after "Death." We've been lemon free for a couple of chapters, so it's time for some steam. SMALL CHILDREN—you know the drill. Peace out. Enjoy.
I should mention this is one of those double firsts you guys like so much. See if you can spot the other one.
CAUGHT DURING SEX
It was official. Her parents seemed completely oblivious to her sex life. Otherwise, there was no way her father would have left her alone for a solid two weeks while they went on a trip to Minnesota. They were collecting a few things that had been left behind before the hasty move to Chicago, then sightseeing on what Alice had promised to be several cloudy days on the way back.
Which meant two weeks more or less alone with Jacob. Her father had stipulated that she needed to spend time at the main house. Esme was doing repairs, and Renesmee was helping her, learning some of her grandmother's many skills.
But she slept at home, and when he wasn't busy with his sister or lawyers or the shop, he was with her.
Tonight was going to be one of those nights. She'd spent the last eight nights discovering that, when she wasn't awoken nightly by her parents, it was very quiet in their little house. Jacob snored a little, which was cute, but not annoying. He was always turned on in the morning, which she'd known already, but it was nice to enjoy it again.
The past nights, he'd just shown up, knocked on the door, entered the house, and then entered her. He'd fucked her off the edge of her bed, on the floor, and in the shower. Tonight, though, he'd called first, early in the morning from the shop.
Renesmee was halfway through her coffee, frowning at a rerun of Celebrity Apprentice with Rod Blagojevich, and was taking another sip when he blatantly told her, without a hello or anything, "I need to have sex with you." She snorted hot coffee, and he laughed. "Sorry. It's just been one of those days already. It's only nine and I'm in the middle of a crisis."
"What's wrong?"
"Quil forgot to file our taxes." He sounded like he was gritting his teeth. "He's on the phone trying to get that sorted out, so it's just Embry and me, and it's rough a man down."
"I can help." Renesmee frowned. "Well, I can change tires and oil."
There was a pause from the other end, and she could hear Embry shouting something in the background. "Well," he said thoughtfully, "it would be one less thing we'd have to do." Another pause. "No," he said, and she could almost see him shaking his head. "I can't ask you to do that. You stay home. Enjoy your day, and I'll see you tonight."
"No," she argued, "it's no big deal. Grandma will understand, and it's not like I'm sneaking out or anything. I'm going to help you work."
"Don't you have homework?"
"Later," she said dismissively. "I'm going to change, then I'm coming over."
Hanging up before he could argue with her further, she tossed her phone onto the counter and raced to her room. Throwing open her closet, she began to dig, needing something appropriate for shop work. She finally found a pair of Levis her mother had purchased for her, saying every girl needed a good pair of work jeans, and threw them on. In the back of a bottom drawer of her closet, she found an old Van Halen shirt she'd stolen from her father and threw it on, too. She pulled her hair back in a bun and pulled on socks and a pair of waterproof hiking boots. She got a look at herself in the mirror on her way out and sighed softly.
The girl in the reflection looked freshly eighteen. Her clothes were comfortable, the faded shirt just hugging curves that hadn't been there a few years ago. Her growth was slowing, and soon she would be finished, but it wouldn't be far off from this.
If only her damned boobs were a little smaller.
Watching Jacob work had always been one of her favorite things, but somehow, knowing he was the majority owner and general manager of this bustling little shop made it even more exciting. Once she'd parked and made her way inside, she watched as he changed an alternator, observing the flexing of his muscles under his skin and tight black t-shirt.
Apparently, he liked watching her work, too. When she arrived, he gave her the smallest jumpsuit he could find, and it actually fit her fairly well. The guys that came through throughout the morning stared at her, and the women gave her jealous stares. She paid little heed to these, only feeling Jacob's burning gaze on her every time she slid out from under a car after she finished an oil change.
By lunch, she was ready for a break. He'd been driving her out of her mind all morning, touching the small of her back when he'd reach around her for something, even going so far as to kiss her, albeit chastely, in front of some twenty-something guy with sandy hair.
She was starting to go out of her mind.
Jacob announced to Embry around one that he was going to take a break for lunch. He casually mentioned that Renesmee was breaking, as well.
"We have to be good to the free help, after all," he joked. Taking her hand, he led her back through the garage and through the main office, where a red haired woman was waiting at the counter. Jacob gave her a charming smile. "Quil will be out in just a moment, Mrs. Cope." He winked. "Good to see you again."
Renesmee gave him a little shove when he turned down a short hall. "What was that?"
"She's here all the time." He laughed. "Quil is her favorite."
"Ew." Renesmee scrunched her nose. "He's too young for her." Jacob raised his eyebrows at her. "You know what I mean," she said, rolling her eyes. "We're the exception."
"You are rather exceptional, baby." He smiled slightly. He opened a door on the left, revealing Quil, squinting at a computer and holding a phone in one hand. "Quil, rest your eyes, man." Jacob shook his head. "Mrs. Cope's here. Change her oil, then take lunch. I'll be back in a while."
"Never had to file taxes before," Quil mumbled, glaring at the computer before shoving away and getting out of his chair.
"Then why did you tell me 'No problem' when I asked you to file the shop's taxes?" Jacob's voice was a little exasperated.
"Because I thought my mom would do them for me!" He threw out his hands. "I mean, she always has before. But she said I'd have to pay her!"
Jacob groaned.
"Let me call my grandma," Renesmee suggested. "She files our family's taxes all the time. I bet she would come over and have it done in an hour or less."
Quil blinked, his eyes a little bleary. "You think?"
"I can ask." She smiled and patted his back as he passed her. "Go take a break."
"Thanks for helping out today, Nessie." Quil rubbed his forehead. "Seriously, you're a lifesaver."
Feeling her cheeks flush a little, Renesmee managed a small smile. "No problem."
The door closed behind Quil, and Renesmee turned to examine the office. A few photos of Quil, Jacob, and Embry were in frames here and there, and Renesmee wandered from photo to photo, looking at them in wonder while Jacob ate a sandwich and typed away on the computer. One photo caught her eye and made her smile.
The trio looked very young, maybe only five or six. Jacob's face bore the same huge grin, and his dark eyes twinkled, just like they still did, like he was up to some mischief. His cheeks, though, were a little rounder, still clinging on to a last hint of baby fat, and she smiled. She'd have to go through Billy's things and find baby pictures of Jake to torment him with later, she decided.
After about fifteen minutes, she was jerked back to the present by a soft clicking sound. Turning, she saw Jacob, one hand still on the door's little turn lock. She smiled slightly. "What are you up to?" she asked.
"No good," he muttered. His eyes were a little hazy, and she could see the lust burning there. She giggled when he put his hands on her hips, guiding her back to the edge of the desk. "I've been watching you all day," he said needlessly. "You look so fucking hot."
Renesmee brushed back her hair as he unbuttoned her jumpsuit, revealing the jeans and t-shirt she wore underneath. "I'm a mess," she whispered.
"You're sexy," he said, and his voice left no room for argument. He unbuttoned her jeans, shoving them down to her knees and sliding one finger between her legs and groaning. "You're already wet."
"I have been all morning," she groaned.
"Dirty girl," he growled. He sat her up on the edge of the desk, not bothering to actually remove any of her clothing. He shoved her jeans down to her ankles, spreading her legs and shoving her panties aside. With her pants more or less holding her feet together, it was hard to spread her legs very wide, but she suspected he would use this to his advantage. "We have to be fast."
Her head dropped back and her eyes rolled when he rubbed himself against her, checking one final time that she was ready for him. "Then get started," she gasped, rolling her hips toward him.
With no further foreplay, he buried himself in her, his head falling back and a soft moan falling from her lips. She shuddered, gasping for breath and clinging to his shoulders, bunching his shirt in her fists. He stayed still for only a few seconds before he started pumping into her in short, hard thrusts. It felt amazing, and she moaned into his mouth when he leaned down to kiss her. The place he kept hitting was just right…
She came fast and suddenly, and he followed her immediately. She could feel him spilling into her, and the feeling prolonged her orgasm. When she finally calmed down, he was smiling at her, still joined to her.
"Love you," he whispered, pressing his forehead to hers.
"Love you more." Renesmee could feel a little smile curling at her lips.
He pulled out of her, and she blushed when their mixed fluids leaked out of her body and onto the hardwood. Jacob just laughed and grabbed a sani-wipe from a little tub and cleaned the desk before he knelt under her on the floor while she stood over him, cleaning her with his mouth. She came again, moaning quietly at the sensations his probing tongue created in her.
When they were redressed, Renesmee made her phone call, and as she predicted, Esme was more than happy to help the boys. She was coming right over, and added that she would bring something for them to nibble on, which probably meant more sandwiches.
"I'm going to go home," Renesmee said, smiling slightly. Her cheeks were still flushed, and her legs were a little weak. It felt weird to be on her feet so quickly after having sex. "I'm not one hundred percent, and I want to get cleaned up."
"Can I come over tonight?" He wrapped his arms around her waist, slouching slightly so he could press his hips against hers. "I want you again later."
She giggled. "You've been terrible this week."
"I want you," he said, his voice matter of fact. "What's so wrong with that?"
"Nothing." Her legs spread slightly to allow his knee to slide between them. She quivered a little. "I just want to look nice for you, for a change." More hair was escaping from the hair tie that was supposed to be restraining it, and she shoved it back for something to do with her hands.
"Okay." He chuckled. "Besides, your grandma's going to be here soon." His eyes twinkled.
"Open the fucking windows!" Stripping the rest of the way out of the jumpsuit as she went, she started toward the window. She tripped a little, though, and wound up clumsily hopping toward the little window and fan while Jacob cackled with delight. It was so nice to hear him laughing she didn't even berate him for laughing at her.
Back at home, Renesmee scrubbed the oil and grime from her face and hands before taking a long, hot bath. She sighed softly, remembering the rough sex they'd had on his desk, sighing angrily when she became aroused again. She had things to do—hair to fight, clothes to pick out, and La Perla lingerie that wasn't going to wear itself.
For the rest of the afternoon, she dolled herself up, using product in her hair to tame the frizz that was fighting her, making her curls long and smooth. She put on just a bit of make-up—mascara, a little powder, and some fairly quiet lipstick—before she left her bathroom. So far, she was only clad in the underwear she'd had on that morning, and it wasn't very sexy. Yellow with white polka dot panties, and a white bra. She smirked when she pulled out a set she'd picked up on one of her many shopping sprees in Chicago, one that, like so many others, still had on the tags and had never been worn. It looked almost vintage, and while it covered more than most of her bras did, it was comfortable and, she thought, pretty sexy. Especially with a matching thong.
Clothes were harder to pick out. She still had to make dinner, and she didn't want to have to change clothes too many times. She ended up settling for a pair of dark jeans and a tight green shirt over an even tighter white camisole.
By the time Jacob knocked on her door, dinner was made, her clothes were spotless, and her make-up was touched up. He was smiling a little when she opened the door, and his smile grew when he saw that she was wearing an apron. "Oh, baby, that's cute."
"Thanks," she said, rolling her eyes. "I didn't want to get pasta sauce all over my nice shirt."
"You made me pasta?" He slid his hands over her hips to grasp her ass. "What did I do to deserve you?"
"You looked at me," she said dryly. She smiled slightly and reached back to remove his hands. "Food first."
"Shot down before I could start," he said, shaking his head in mock sorrow as she put a plate of spaghetti and meatballs in front of him. He shook his head. "How I'm still hungry, I have no idea, but this smells amazing and I'm going to eat the entire thing."
"Esme brought food, then?"
Jacob laughed. "She brought a buffet. Taxes are done, though."
"She's pretty awesome like that," Renesmee said, her chest puffing a little.
"You're pretty good, yourself," he said, sitting down in front of his plate and swirling spaghetti around his fork. "Smells great." He took a bite, and she felt proud when he moaned in delight. "So good," he moaned. He swallowed and sighed. "I feel better now."
"I made it from my mom's recipe," she explained. "Woman knows how to cook."
Jacob nodded, and then blinked. "Wait. Did you make this from scratch?"
Renesmee raised her eyebrows. "Is that so hard to believe?"
He didn't respond. He just dug back into his food. She started in on her own plate, satisfied that it tasted alright, if maybe not as good as her mother's. But with Bella gone, it was either cook, or let Jacob try to cook. She snorted at the thought.
"What's funny?" he asked.
"Just picturing you trying to cook," she said, smiling slightly. "It's a scary image."
Jacob shook his head firmly. "I don't cook. Your dad tried to teach me once, and it ended badly."
A small smile pulled the corner of her lips. "I never knew that. When was this?"
He didn't answer. He just shoved more food in his mouth and when he finally spoke again, it was a change of subject.
"You look nice." He nodded at her clothes, honestly one of the more boring ensembles she'd ever picked out. "That color looks good on you."
"Thanks." She smiled slightly. She could feel her cheeks staining with pink as she took another bite, avoiding his eyes but feeling his burning into her. She considered saying something, and nearly stopped herself. Her eyes closed for a moment, and something he'd said to her during their first sexual encounter rushed screaming back into her brain.
"I should have fucking known you'd have a filthy mouth."
"Babe?" Jacob was staring at her now, but in a slightly confused manner.
Renesmee blinked rapidly several times, and then smirked at him. "You like this outfit?" she asked, before swirling more spaghetti.
"Yes," he said slowly.
"Then you'll love what I have on underneath," she purred, feeling victorious when she heard his pulse quicken and saw his mouth fall open, just a bit. She ate the forkful of spaghetti, holding her ground under his intense stare. He watched her eat, his eyes trailing down to her throat when she swallowed. She raised his eyebrows. "Aren't you hungry anymore, baby?"
Jacob straightened up. He grinned right back at her, but it wasn't his normal, happy grin. This was his equivalent of the look she was giving her, and it was almost unbelievably sexy. His eyes sparkled with a bit of mischief. He picked up his fork, and speared a meatball. "Starved," he said, and he put the whole thing in his mouth.
Dinner was foreplay. Extended, physically chaste foreplay, with the exception of the moment when she had a little sauce on the edge of her lip. He'd smiled, leaning over to clean it up for her with his tongue, and he nearly made her lose any control she was holding on to. Then he'd leaned away and refocused his attention on his dinner.
She would do anything, she decided, staring at him while he ate, to get rid of the little line that lingered above his brow, giving away his constant state of stress. Despite his apparent decent mood, that pain was still there.
So when the dishes were in the sink and the leftovers stored in the refrigerator, she took his hand and led him to her bedroom, bent on giving him a little relief.
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If one more person told him how sorry they were for his loss, Jacob was going to scream or cry or phase. Possibly all three, even—who knew? Whichever way, it was with a moderately heavy heart that he left work that day.
All things considered, he decided, he was in a fairly good mood. This week was turning out to be exactly what he needed—time with Renesmee that didn't involve her father. Somehow, Edward seemed to have no idea that his daughter had been deflowered, and that was fine with Jacob. Bella might or might not know, but for some reason, she seemed to be helping out. There had been a few times when he'd been in Edward's presence and Edward would frown at him a little, like he was frustrated with something. It was the same look he gave anyone being shielded by his wife. It was reassuring.
In any case, not having to watch his thoughts was a relief. He stayed in bed with her, loving how it had felt the last few days, waking up with her still burrowed in his arms or, like it had been five days ago, with her head buried in his lap. That had been the best wake-up ever. He'd lasted about a minute before coming in her mouth, and she had licked her lips like he was candy.
Tonight, she seemed intent on making him want to explode. She fucked with him all the way through dinner and was now leading him down the hall to her bedroom. He watched her butt sway in front of him, her long hair dangling down to just above the curve there. He wanted to pull it. Maybe it was a little odd and kinky, but she seemed to like having her hair pulled.
Hell, the woman just seemed happy on her knees.
"Sit down," she ordered as she dragged him inside her bedroom. "On the end of the bed."
"Here?"
"Yeah." She smiled sweetly at him, taking a few steps back. "You've been kind of bummed today, I can tell so," she shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. "What would you like me to take off first?"
Jacob blinked. What did he… what?
She giggled. "What would you like me to take off first?" she repeated.
Feeling his mouth drop open, he stared at her dumbstruck for a few moments before he stuttered out, "Shirt."
Her cheeks were flaming with pink as she slowly reached her hands down to the hem at the bottom of the green shirt she wore. Very slowly, she removed her shirt, tugging it up over her breasts, which were still hidden by a few layers. In his peripheral vision he saw her arms stretching leisurely over her head, but his eyes were focused on her breasts. She wore a white camisole underneath, somehow more skin hugging than the first shirt, and underneath, clearly visible under the white, a back bra that looked lacy. Shirt off, she tossed it in his face, grinning.
He ordered her jeans off next, and yes, the bra was black and lacy, he discovered, because she wore the underwear to match. They came off as slowly as the shirt had, bit by bit revealing the flesh of her thighs, then her knees, calves, until they were finally off. When she did the same little dance with the camisole, he discovered that the bra actually covered her up fairly well, and almost reminded him of a fifties pin up girl. It was one of the sexiest things he'd seen.
"Come here." He focused on her skin, mostly exposed for him to investigate. She moved forward to stand in front of him, and he gave her panties a little tug. He felt a little bit of pride that he was starting to be able to recognize a few designer brands, some of her favorites. He could usually tell when she wore Gucci, and when she had Steve Madden shoes on.
And he knew La Perla like the back of his hand.
"I like this," he said, his finger wrapping around the band of her underwear. "Turn around." Her breasts even flushed, but she turned, showing him her back. He ran a hand over the exposed skin of her ass. "I like this a lot," he said, and he wrapped another finger around the other side. "I'd hate to ruin it, so how about we just take it off now?" He tugged the thong down over her knees and onto the floor. She stepped out of it, and he rested his hands on her ass again. "So beautiful."
It wasn't long before the bra, sexy as it was, had to come off, too. She watched him as she lay on the bed in front of him, her eyes hungry as he hurriedly stripped out of his jeans and boxers in one pull, removing his shirt and letting it fall onto the floor. One of her lamps was lit, casting a soft orange glow onto her skin.
One more thing to love about her—she loved sex with the lights on.
Her face was perfectly clear in the dim light. He watched her eyes first hood then roll back in her head as he slid into her. She enveloped him, hotter than anything he'd ever felt, and a really embarrassing whimper slipped from his lips. She didn't seem to mind. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself closer to him so that she could press her full lips to his. He wasted no time, sliding his tongue between her open lips and slowly, leisurely, kissing her back. When he pulled back and thrust into her again, she gasped, literally taking his breath away. Their lips broke apart and he could feel her warm breath in little pants against his face.
"I love you," she whispered, her eyes wide as she gazed up at him.
"I love you," he whispered back. "So much, baby." Holding his weight on his elbows, he pushed her hair back from her face. She whimpered as he stared down at her, moving over her and working her up.
Part of him wanted to take it slow with her tonight—she had to be tired. They'd had more sex in the past eight days than in the entire time they'd been sleeping together. But his little wild thing writhed under him, anxious for more, and he was more than willing to appease her. She moved onto her hands and knees, wiggling her butt at him and giggling. The dim light danced across her skin, illuminating the moisture between her legs, and he groaned as he slid back into her.
Being inside her gave him the relief he needed, like it always did, and it was so easy to drift into a world where only they existed. He let his head fall back, giving himself over to the sensations created by the contact of their flesh and the sounds she made. She had gone onto her hands and knees for him. She was screaming because he was making her.
He was so far gone…
The first indicator that they were not alone was the slamming of the front door. It was hard to miss—the sound it made closing shook the whole house. Both of them froze, and he thought fast enough to pull out and grab a blanket to cover them up.
The second thing he heard was the growling. It was very low, almost silent, as if it was escaping repression, but it was there. But there were no footsteps, no words being spoken. Just growling.
It was a sound, however, that Jacob would recognize anywhere, and Renesmee's eyes were wide. She may not be as familiar with that sound, but she still knew exactly what it was. Jacob reached for his clothes, for some reason only able to find his boxers and t-shirt. Wincing slightly, he pulled them on under the covers.
"Stay here," he mouthed silently, and she nodded, eyes wide. He got out of her bed and heard her behind him, trying to locate her own clothes.
Out in the hall, Jacob walked slowly toward the living room. The growling grew a little louder with proximity, and Jacob stepped into the living room, ready for anything.
Edward stood just inside the front door, his eyes nearly black, despite Jacob's assuredness that they had hunted recently. Bella's eyes, which were averted to the ceiling, were gold. When Jacob came into sight, Edward's hissing intensified.
What the fuck did he do now?
Bella's eyes were still focused on the ceiling, as if it were fascinating to her, and the corners of her mouth were a little tight. "We tried to call," she said, her voice a little strained. She seemed to be holding onto her husband very tightly. "You didn't answer."
Obviously. He'd planned briefly, he supposed, to handle this well—better, at least, than standing in his best friend's living room, in his boxers, just having been overheard.
Probably more than overheard.
The look on Edward's face answered this particular thought. His eyes were pitch black, and his lips were pulled back over his teeth. Maybe he'd only heard and not heard, he hoped.
Edward's soft growl increased into a loud snarl. "I know," he said, his throat still going, "exactly what you were doing to my daughter."
Well, shit.
Bella gave Jacob an apologetic look, but she didn't say anything. The majority of her attention seemed to be focused on her husband.
"Listen," Jacob said, and he raised his hands, not sure of what he was going to say.
Jacob knew Edward was going to break half a second before it happened, and it was just enough time. He dodged to the side, avoiding Edward when he shot forward, snarling, and crashing through an end table.
"Edward!" Bella's voice was sharp, and his eyes snapped from Jacob to her. "That was a gift from your mother." Her eyes suddenly slid out of focus. It almost looked like she wasn't really looking at Edward, but whatever she was thinking made Edward straighten slowly out of his crouch. Her eyes focused again, and she raised her eyebrows.
"She's six years old!" Edward shrieked.
Jacob was a little surprised that the glass didn't break. Edward's snarls reintensified, but this time, Bella had enough time to get between them again. She was snarling now, too. It was a little scary to be this close to them, and he took a step back.
Until Edward got louder, and Jacob's protective instincts kicked in. "Don't go getting pissed off at her," Jacob growled, feeling himself starting to shake. "She's trying to help, you ass hole."
"Stay out of it, mongrel," Edward growled. "And get out of my house before I rip you to shreds!"
"Edward!" Bella actually raised a hand to him, slapping him across the face to knock some sense into him. It didn't even faze him. If anything, his snarls grew louder.
"I'm not leaving," Jacob shot back.
"This is a family matter," he spat, "and I'd appreciate it if you butted out."
Jacob threw his hands up, frustrated. "I am a part of this family!" he yelled. "You know that!" Before Edward could interrupt, he continued. "I followed you to Minnesota to be with her and lived under five miles from you, for her. I haven't gone anywhere yet, and I'm not planning to! You should just get used to the idea that, as much as I hate to admit it, I'm a part of your family!"
Edward was still growling, and Jacob could feel it in the floorboards. Edward opened his mouth to speak, but a shriek from the hall stopped the words from coming.
"Daddy!"
It was high and piercing, and three heads snapped to look at its source. Renesmee stood at the end of the hall, her eyes wide and glistening with unshed tears. She stared her father down, and Jacob noticed that her hands were shaking with barely suppressed rage.
Well, like father like daughter, he supposed.
No one spoke for about a minute, and then Edward's face suddenly crumpled. "You wouldn't do that to me," he said, his voice pleading, "to your mother."
Her response was silent, but apparently damning, and Edward hung his head. "Do what?" Jacob asked, unable to keep himself completely contained.
"Leave," she said shortly.
Jacob frowned, seeing Bella's shock out of the corner of his eye. "No, you wouldn't," he said, agreeing with Edward for the first time all night. Maybe she would try, but he knew her—there was no way he'd let her. He stepped down the hall to wrap his arms around her, and Edward's rumbling started up briefly before there was the sound of another smack, this one to the back of his head, and the sound ceased. "You tried that once already, remember?" He smiled slightly, giving her a squeeze. "You barely made it out of town."
"That was different," she said, her voice clipped. Her arms betrayed her stress as she clung to him a little more tightly than usual.
"You can't run away when things get difficult," Jacob said, keeping his voice low. She looked about to explode, and he didn't want to be the one to incur her wrath. "Trust me, it doesn't work."
The tension seemed to be diffusing now, and Bella stepped closer to her daughter. "Come on, sweetie," she said, and she reached out to take her hand. Renesmee laced her fingers through her mother's, letting go of Jacob to follow. "Edward, Jacob, go outside."
Both men stared. "What?"
Bella frowned. "Girl talk," she said. "Go. Beyond earshot, please. And if I find out you're eves dropping, you will be beyond sorry."
Edward scowled at his daughter. "You're grounded, by the way."
"What?" Renesmee took a few steps toward him, but her mother pulled her back. "That's not fair! Why?"
"Because," Edward spluttered, and he sounded like he was fishing. "You didn't say anything about having company. You said you'd been hanging out by yourself, and you lied."
Before they could argue anymore, Jacob dragged Edward outside. The two of them stalked at a normal human pace out into the woods, and walked in an awkward silence for about twenty minutes before Edward finally spoke.
His voice was hard. "How long?" he asked.
Jacob stared at the ground in front of him. Christmas, he thought, trying hard to keep the images out of his head.
Edward winced. He rubbed his forehead as if his head ached, stopping next to a downed tree. Again, as if he were exhausted, he sat down and stared at the ground. "You know I don't approve," he said, and his voice was still hard.
"I know." Jacob sat down on another log about ten feet away. The distance seemed to help.
"I'd have been much less upset if you could have waited." He didn't need to say what he would have rather they waited for, and Jacob could figure it out.
Again, "I know." Jacob folded his hands and stared down at them. "I tried. She just…"
"I know," Edward sighed. "You can't help it."
They were silent for a while, and Jacob shifted uncomfortably. It was kind of like waiting for a kettle to boil, and he wondered if the heat would get turned off or if the steam would knock the cap off.
Finally, Edward spoke again. "I'm thinking," he said slowly, "that this is supposed to be the part in this conversation where I'm supposed to ask you about what your long-term plans are, but I suppose that's a rhetorical question."
Jacob nodded. "I just…" He fidgeted, trying to word his question correctly, but Edward answered his jumbled thoughts just fine.
"I'd rather you wait until she's finished growing," he muttered. "But as far as my approval goes, you should already know the answer to that."
Jacob blinked, and glanced up. Edward had raised his head, and he looked very young again. He was smiling lopsidedly. "You're alive, aren't you? If I really didn't approve, you'd be dead by now. Bella's strong, but not stronger than me. I could have broken her hold if I'd really wanted to kill you."
"I can't believe she slapped you," Jacob said, and he managed a small laugh.
"I know." Edward sounded indignant. "I'm going to have to ask her about that."
"Be careful," Jacob warned. "You don't want to end up on the couch, figuratively speaking."
"Humph." Edward looked back at the ground. "Just promise me something?"
"Sure."
"Never do it when I can hear you," he begged, and Jacob burst out laughing.
"You guys do it all the time and she can hear you."
"That's different," Edward countered. "We're married, and she's my child. I'm supposed to want her to die a virgin."
Not gonna happen.
Edward frowned, and Jacob laughed.
After about an hour, during which time they managed to discuss nothing but Jacob's plans to buy a new fixer-upper car to tinker on, they meandered back to the house. Jacob started to walk inside, and Edward stopped him.
"She's grounded," he said, and his voice was stern and fatherly all of a sudden.
"And I'm not wearing pants," he said, gesturing down at himself. "My keys are in my pants."
Edward frowned. "One more stipulation—I never want to see you without pants on… after." He shuddered.
Renesmee was in her room, and Bella excused herself to the living room when he knocked. "Five minutes," she said, her voice stern but her eyes twinkling. She reached up to tap his forehead and smile at him, and he knew she was giving them a little privacy. He winked at her and stepped inside.
She was wearing her pajamas now, hugging a pillow and sitting at the head of her bed. She smiled when he entered. "So my dad didn't kill you, after all," she said, smiling. She reached out to him as he knelt next to her, putting her hands on his face.
"Not yet," he whispered, leaning in and placing his hands over hers. She smiled at him, showing him little bits of her mother's approval. When she wondered what he and her father had discussed, he jerked his head at the living room. "I'll call you," he said, barely above the sound of a breath. Then he chuckled. "We'll need something to talk about, since you're grounded."
She huffed, her hands disconnecting from his face as she plopped back onto the bed again. "Stupid," she muttered. She kicked her feet out, scowling.
Jacob stared at her for a second, struck again by how beautiful she was. Her hair was still messy from their encounter, her lips just a little swollen, and he smiled, secretly a little proud at having left a mark. Her cheeks were pink against alabaster, and her eyes were half closed as she glared at her toes, which were painted red.
He blinked when her gaze moved from her feet, becoming curious as it focused on him. "What?"
He shrugged. "You just look really pretty," he explained. It should be obvious, but it wasn't.
She frowned again. "I'm wearing men's pajamas."
"I know." He smiled slightly, wishing he could take her with him. He was going to have to crash at Quil and Embry's again, it seemed—no way he was going back to Billy's.
And now he wasn't going to sleep tonight.
She was shaking her head. "Will you call me when you get home?" she asked, getting up on her knees to knee-walk over to him. She reached up, twining her fingers into his hair.
"Yeah." He pressed a kiss to her forehead, but it wasn't enough. He had to drop just a little lower, capture that mouth one more time…
"I love you," he whispered into her hair when his lips finally left hers.
"Love you more," she responded, equally quiet.
"Fight you for it."
"Promise?"
"Absolutely, kid."
"Call me." She gave his shoulder a little shove, her face a little pained. "Miss you."
He had meant to pull away from her, but instead, he reached for her lapel, giving it a little tug and bringing her face closer to his. "Someday," he vowed, "you won't have to say goodbye at night anymore." He kissed the tip of her nose. "And until then, I will ache for when I see you again."
Her cheeks flamed again, and she smiled shyly at him from under her long lashes. "Me, too," she said simply.
Giving her a final kiss on the tip of her nose, he winked at her before turning and walking out into the hall. Bella and Edward were on the sofa, his head in her lap while she played with his hair. He gave them a little wave. "Later."
Bella climbed out from under Edward. "Go tell Ness goodnight," she said. "I'm going to walk Jake out."
Outside, in the dark, Jacob finally allowed himself to slump silently against the side of his truck. Bella's brows furrowed, and she reached out an ice cold hand to gently rub his back. He heaved a sigh and wrapped his arms around her.
"You still want me to…" She cocked her head, reaching up to tap her head. "You know."
"Yeah." He explained no further, wanting neither of the prying ears inside to hear. "Thanks."
Bella nodded, giving him another sympathetic smile before kissing his cheek and darting back inside.
The last thing he needed, he reminded himself, starting up the truck, was for Edward to find out how fucked up he was, and that he was sleeping at Quil and Embry's, and never at Billy's. He would certainly bring it up, and there was always a chance of Nessie overhearing. The last thing he wanted was for her to worry.
So he put on a brave face and Bella shielded his mind—most of the time—giving him privacy.
And when he was with her, everything somehow seemed like it would be okay.
a/n This is the song that never ends…
Seriously, was a bit longer than I meant it to be, but hey—whatever! Hopefully, you enjoyed. And what was first number two? Think Joe Cocker… And review!