February

"So…." Katie draws the word out and glances up from the cupcake she's icing. "Tomorrow's Valentine's Day."

"It is," I agree.

"Do you have any special plans?" she asks.

I lift a brow and tilt my head at the little brunette next to me who's luckily too focused on making Valentines cards to be paying attention to us. "Do you really want me to answer that?" I ask my nosey sister.

Her cheeks go pink. "Um, no. I guess not. But you do have something in mind, right?"

"Got it covered," I say.

At least, I hope I've got it covered. Bella hasn't said much about Valentine's Day, other than how crazy work has been these last few days and the sweet invitation to escort her to the Queen of Hearts Ball at Crosstown this weekend.

I'm her official "plus one."

Maggie looks up from the orange construction paper heart she's cutting. "Did you get her a card?" she asks me. "'Cause you can use my markers if you need to." She waves at the copious selection of Crayolas spread across the kitchen counter. "I made one for her."

"Can I see it?" I ask.

She frowns. "It's upstairs in a box with some chocolate hearts I wrapped for her."

"That's okay. I'll see it after she opens it. What about me? Do I get chocolates?"

"Of course not," she says. There's a mischievous twinkle in her eye when she looks up at me again. "You like Sour Patch Kids."

"True." I nudge her with my elbow. "Pass me that pink sheet of paper and the black marker."

Maggie fakes a yawn. "Boring," she says.

"Well, what do you suggest?"

Before she can answer, Katie stifles a real yawn and shakes her head. "Ugh," she says, lowering the last cupcake onto a platter. "I'm beat. I think I might take a quick nap while you guys have your lesson."

"You okay?" I ask. "It's, like, 3:00."

"Yeah. Class parties are exhausting. I'm fine. Things have been nonstop since we got back. First there was the grand opening of the restaurant, then Disney and Christmas."

She's a little pale, considering she was in Florida for more than a week a little over a month ago. Dark circles under her eyes match the fatigue in her voice.

"I'm sure Maggie and I can find a way to stay entertained until Garrett gets home."

At first, she argues. "You don't have to do that." But Maggie likes the idea and helps me convince Katie to get some obviously much needed rest. She kisses both of us on the backs of our heads on her way out of the kitchen. "Have fun," she says.

Maggie helps me cut hearts in every color for Bella's card. "You have to write things on them like the candies. Stuff like Be Mine and Kiss Me and True Love," she says.

I add those and another one with XOXO.

Maggie nods her approval and helps me glue them on the card. "There," she says. "She'll love it."

"Think so?"

"Yep." She gives the card a long look and narrows her eyes. "We should celebrate with ice cream."

"Let's get through with your piano lesson first, then we'll talk ice cream."

"Deal." She climbs down from the stool and heads toward the family room. "I've been practicing this time."

She has, and it's obvious she knows how good she is when she focuses. The music rolls from her fingertips, and her lips turn up at the corners.

My phone buzzes, but I ignore it until the end of our lesson. Maggie's my best, and only, pupil. She deserves my full attention, even if she barely needs lessons at all. She's a natural.

At the end of our half hour, she closes the sheet music in front of her and says, "Caramel chocolate crunch."

"Okay, okay. Let me see if your mom wants some, too."

"She always wants ice cream. Trust me."

I pull my phone from my pocket and check the Instagram notification on my screen. I'm tagged in a new post by Bella. My breath catches when the picture opens. It's Bella standing behind two dozen crimson red tulips. She's leaned forward with the bottom half of her face hidden by the dark petals. Her eyes are closed, and even though I can't see her mouth, I know she's smiling.

Thank you, emcullen901. They're perfect. Can't wait to see you.

I tap a quick response and hit send before I can second guess how many people might see it.

You're perfect.

And she is, with that dark hair and soft skin. She's all I think about. And even though I'm the one who zipped up the sexy black dress she's wearing before she left her apartment this morning, I already can't wait to take it off of her tonight.

"Can Sam come with us?" Maggie asks at the door.

I look up from my phone to answer. "Not this time. We'll have to go inside, and we don't want to leave her in the car."

She frowns but nods. "Stay, Sam."

The drive to Ben and Jerry's takes twice as long as it normally would because of rush hour traffic and a train. It's more time for Maggie to tell me all about her class party earlier today and the chocolate frog some kid named Liam gave her as they were leaving school.

There are already 104 likes for Bella's post by the time I park the car and 74 likes for my reply, including my mom, Bella's mom, and Alice.

"Whatcha looking at?" Maggie asks. Instead of answering, I hand over my phone and let her see for herself. "Those are pretty."

"See? I told y'all I've got this."

She gives me back my phone and smiles. "She's so different now."

I open the door and hold it for her. "Bella?"

Maggie nods. "She never used to let me spend the night. Now she does." She stops to look back over her shoulder at me. "She lets you spend the night, too. Oh! We should all have a sleepover sometime. We can watch movies, and I can bring Sam…" She turns and walks to the counter to inspect the flavors while I'm stuck holding the door and processing.

"Um…" My brain kicks in, and I follow her across the room. "I don't know if…" I'm about as far from old-fashioned as it gets, but I'm not sure how this works with unmarried aunts and uncles, especially kind-of-related ones.

"I want Sweet Cream and Cookies instead," she says, already focused on something else entirely.

The teenage guy behind the counter nods and asks, "What type of cone?"

When Bella and I have kids, they'll definitely be allowed to sleepover at Garrett and Katie's house. What's the difference?

"And for you?" the kid asks me after handing Maggie her ice cream.

"Um… Strawberry. Waffle cone."

"Is the one by the window okay?" Maggie asks, pointing to a table near the shop's entrance.

"Sure."

She's moved on to tabletop checkers, whether or not I think her parents will let her have a kitten—a definite no, since Garrett is allergic—and whether or not we can add guitar lessons when she's out of school for the summer—a definite yes, as long as her parents are cool with it.

Garrett beats us home by seconds and walks to the curb to open Maggie's car door. "Hey," he says. "What've you two been up to?" She wraps her arms around his neck and holds on when he stands up straight. She giggles and drops to the ground.

"Ice cream," she says.

"Katie didn't go with y'all?"

Maggie shrugs. "She was pretty tired. We told her to take a nap."

Garrett looks up at me. "That's not exactly how it went down," I say. "She was tired, so I offered to keep Maggie entertained until you got home so she could get some rest."

He glances at the house and smiles. "Thanks," he says. "She probably needed that little break. It's been a busy week." Maggie runs to the front door and throws it open, calling for Sam before she makes it over the threshold. "Do you want to come in? Stay for dinner?"

I shake my head. "Can't, but thanks. I already have plans."

He nods once and then jerks his head at the house. "Well, I'm going to get in there and make my wife her favorite chicken pesto pizza and try to stay awake for a few episodes of Clone Wars before I pass out."

"Have fun."

"You, too." He waves and follows Maggie inside.

Rosie's waiting for me at the studio, with a couple of insulated food bags on each shoulder. "Have I mentioned that you owe me?" she asks as a greeting.

"I Venmo'd the money yesterday."

"Yeah, yeah. But I put my heart and soul into this, because this is some wicked romantic shit you've got going here, Edward. I told Emmett he needs to up his game."

And he did, with a little help and a couple of tickets to the ball from Bella. Rosie just doesn't know it, yet.

"I appreciate the heart and soul. You're the best cook I know. You just can't ever tell my mom I said that."

She laughs and waits for me to unlock the door. "I won't, but you'd better be a regular when I finally get my own place."

"That's an easy promise to make. You should talk to Katie and Garrett. They can give you some pointers."

"Let me get through graduation first, then I'd love to." She follows me inside and sets the food bags on the wooden countertop. "Do you have everything you need?"

I point to a backpack in the corner. "Got it."

"I'm out, then. I need to get home and shower before Em does. He takes forever."

"Thanks again. You're the best."

She smirks on her way out the door and lowers her sunglasses. "Have fun."

I check the giant clock on the wall across the room and lock the door so there won't be any interruptions. Marcus promised to have Bella here by 7:00, which gives me less than half an hour.

The white linen tablecloth wrinkled in my backpack, so I use the steamer we use for the souvenir t-shirts to straighten it before I put it on the small round table in the center of the gift shop. A candlelit meal isn't an option since there's a "no live fires" rule for insurance reasons and no way to pretend I don't know about it. I test the lighting, settling for leaving the ones behind the bar on and the others dimmed.

The sky outside blackens behind the giant Sun Studio stained glass window during the time it takes to set the small table and open a bottle of wine. Headlights sweep across the door, and Marcus' car rolls to a stop right outside the entrance.

Bella looks mildly confused but happy when I meet her at the door. We wave to Marcus the second before he merges into traffic and disappears.

"Hey," Bella says, stepping into my arms and planting her lips on my neck. "I love my tulips. They're beautiful." Her warm forehead rests against my cheek, and we hold each other until her stomach catches up. "What's that smell?"

"Dinner."

Her head tips back, and she grins. "Here?"

I nod and step backwards, pulling her with me. "Here." I lock the door and pull the shade.

She looks around the shop. "I've never been here before," she says. "You'll have to give me the tour."

"I owe you another tour, too."

"Oh." A pink blush spreads on her cheeks. "You knew about that?"

I nod. "You're going to have to cash in with me directly, though. I'm not doing the tours anymore, once they start back up in the spring."

"You're not?"

"I'm not." I lead her over to the table and pull out her chair. "And next week is my last week at the bar."

She sits but glances over her shoulder at me. "What?"

"I'm switching things up," I say, walking around the table to take the seat across from her. "I've been teaching Maggie how to play the piano, and I've decided to branch out and give other kids lessons, too."

Bella smiles and shakes her head a little. "Where can I sign up?"

"Really?"

She nods. "Really."

"I'd love that…" And the rest is right there, but I'm way too chickenshit to say it. I lift my wine glass to wash down the sudden rush of nervousness that one little word ignited.

"I'm still not over those flowers," she says. "The color… And my apartment smells amazing. They really are perfect." She glances around at the food and wine, then down at the one good set of plates Mom made me buy when I moved back to Memphis a few years ago. "All of it. Just perfect."

We talk about the pictures of musicians lining the walls and how crazy it is to be having dinner in a room that's seen the likes of Johnny Cash and U2. It's nice to unwind and work our way through the mountain of Rosie's best Italian dishes and a bottle of red.

"There's dessert, too," I say.

Bella moans. "Don't tell me what it is. If you do, I'll want to eat it now."

"It can wait." I push my chair back and stand. "I promised you a tour."

When I reach for her hand, she drops her napkin and pushes away from the table. "You did."

She follows me up the ancient wooden stairs and into the giant room lined with clear cases and Memphis treasures. I give her the gold package tour and point out the song titles on the records on display in the radio booth replica. We take our time and stop at every display. Despite having never been here, Bella knows her Memphis history.

"I did a history project about this in high school," she says, pointing to the W.H.E.R. history plaque. "I wanted to have my own radio show for about a year or so afterward, but college changed my mind."

"Funny how that happens."

"I took one elective in hospitality management, and I was hooked."

"And look at you now." I wrap an arm around her waist and stare at our reflection in the glass case. "Best in the business."

A smile stretches across her face. "Be careful. Flattery gets you everywhere with a girl like me."

"Good," I say. "There's more."

She lets me guide her down a second set of stairs and into the studio. The lights are dimmed, with a soft focus on the piano in the center of the room and the small wrapped box on top of it.

"So this is where the magic happens?" Bella asks, eyeing the pictures on the walls and letting her fingers trail over random instruments lining the perimeter of the room.

I nod. "This is it."

She wanders over to the booth and touches the glass wall. "You're not quitting this, are you?"

"Not at all. In fact, I'm kind of expanding my role here."

Her trip around the room halts, and she makes her way back to me. "What do you mean?"

"Come." I lead her over to the piano. "Sit with me."

A deep blush stains her cheeks. "Are you going to play for me?"

"I am."

She eases onto the bench, looks up expectantly, and tugs me down next to her. "I love watching you play."

And there's that word again. I reach for the sheet music and put it in her hands. I'm a player, not a singer, but I am a writer. Words are easier with notes and accompaniment. I'm going to tell her this way first.

My fingers know this one by heart. I play with my eyes on my hands knowing she's reading about a girl who's too good to be true for a guy she keeps running away from, about an admission that he was always going to come back for more.

A song about whiplash, a prayer for surrender.

The last notes linger, unresolved the way we were when I wrote them.

After a long silence, Bella exhales. "Edward…"

"I wrote it," I say, staring at my fingers and the keys. "Back in September, after I knew what it was like to…" I look up, and she stares back at me, with her lip pulled between her teeth and her breath held. "…be with you."

"You wrote this…" She lifts the sheet music and glances at the lyrics again. "For me?"

I nod. "And then I played it at the bar one night while Zafrina and Siobhan were there. They loved it and tweaked the lyrics some for me. One thing led to another, and they asked if they could have it for their album."

"They put out an album?"

"Not yet. Well, that's the rest of your gift." I reach up again for the wrapped gift. "This is hot off the press, from about a week ago."

She tears red paper away and eyes the record in her hand. It's simple artwork, just an antique piano and microphone silhouetted in a darkened room. The words Zafrina Smart's Desire and Other Musings grace the top in elegant white cursive. She turns the album over, and her fingers trace the track listings.

"'It's Complicated,' written by and featuring Edward Cullen on piano," Bella says, laser-focused on the last song. "Wow."

"I hope it's okay…"

A slow smile spreads, and she scoots impossibly closer, tucking under my arm. "It's beautiful," she says. "I love it."

I pull her against me and touch her cheek. "I love you."

A soft smile graces her lips as she turns into my touch to kiss my palm. "I love you, too."

The sheet music flutters to the floor, and Bella buries her hands in my hair, pulling my face to meet hers. Her lips are still red and sweetened by wine, and her kiss is pure fire. Her weight shifts, and her hand slips to my thigh. "Mmm… Security cameras," I mumble against her lips.

She sighs and pulls back. "We're going to need a bed for what I want to do with you, anyway. We can save dessert for later."

We make quick work of packing things up and loading my car, and she doesn't say a word during the quick ride to Crosstown. Our fingers are tangled on her lap, and she watches me in the rearview mirror.

Our timing is perfect, and we bypass the garage in favor of a rare open curb spot closer to the entrance.

"Leave the stuff." Bella finally breaks the silence. "We'll come back for it in a bit."

The lobby's crowded with people coming and going, like any other weekend night. We have to wait for an elevator, and it's full of teenagers on their way to hang out and shoot pool. We step in, and the doors close. Bella relaxes against me and moans. "Cameras everywhere," she says, lifting her chin toward a small lens a few feet above us. "All I want to do is get you alone."

I bury my face in her hair and groan. "Are we there, yet?"

She laughs. The elevator stops, then pings. The doors open, and we step forward together. I guide her down the hall while she searches her purse for her keys. She's ready when we reach her apartment and doesn't waste time letting us in.

"Finally," Bella says. She closes the door behind me and reaches for my belt. "I've been thinking about this all day."

"All day?" I lean back and watch as she works her hand past my zipper. My breath catches when her cool fingers settle around my dick.

She nods, licks her lips, and starts to move her hand. "Even at lunch with our moms."

I laugh and shake my head. "Not the time."

She shrugs. "True, though."

I swallow and nod, close my eyes, and rest my head against the door. "I'm going to come all over your hand if you keep that up. What was that about a bed?"

She takes a step back and lifts her hands in the air between us. "Fair enough. I did promise a bed."

I step forward and pull her to me. "We can multitask." She peppers my neck and jaw with sweet kisses, and I unzip her dress as we make our way across the room to her bedroom door. Her fingers tug and pull the buttons on my shirt. I save her the trouble and yank it over my head.

We're chest to chest in nothing but our underwear by the time we tumble onto the bed, and it doesn't take long to strip the rest away. She spreads her legs, lifts her hips, and pulls me in without ever breaking our stare. And she doesn't have to say it out loud, because I can feel it, but she does anyway.

"I love you."


A/N – Happy Hallmark Day, y'all. I can't apologize enough for how long it's taken me to update. It's been a rough year. I'll leave it at that.

Thanks to M for pre-reading and to Iris for turning this around in less than 24 hours (she's a damn rock star) and to y'all for not flouncing. Love you guys. For real.

MSC