51
"I'd have never guessed, lass," Liam tells me.
"Never would have guess what?"
I turn and there's Edward. His hands are full – coffee carrier in one, a pastry box in the other – and his collar is turned up against the cold. I can barely detect a hint of wind-blown pink against his cheeks.
"That you and Mademoiselle Bella 'ad not been together all too long," Laurent supplies. I want to scowl at him but I'm too busy trying to decipher the expressions that cross Edward's face.
