I adopted this plot bunny a year or so ago. It really intrigued me. I posted a poll in my group asking which story I should work on next and this was the winner. It's definitely a WIP. I've only got a rough outline figured out and I'm going back to my roots with this … writing with a vague plan. I hope that I can do this justice.
None of this is mine … I wish it was. Sigh …
I wanted to include Edward's full trip in the previous chapter, but the chapter was going to be too long. So, we're going to continue his visit in this chapter. We're going to continue this 'date' in EPOV and the trip in BPOV. Now, given the snippets of Bella's past, this will be more of a slow burn.
Chapter Ten
Bella
"That was well worth the wait and it was so amazing for you to surprise me," he breathed, his mouth teasing mine.
"As you could tell, I was panicking," I snorted humorlessly. "I almost ran."
"I would have found you, Bella," he said, stepping back and cupping my cheek. "I'm excited and happy to be here. Yes, because we're working on the movie together, but also because I've missed you. I'm not bullshitting you." He took my hand, leading me to the couch. We sat down. "Now, what do we have planned while I'm in town?"
I curled up and grinned. "Whatever you like, but I do need your help with the screenplay," I said.
"I will. I promise," he replied. "I just want to see my Bella in her natural habitat?"
"Your Bella?" I asked, arching a brow.
"I'd like that, very much," he said softly. "Bella, I haven't felt this way about anyone in a long time. I want to see where this goes. I want you. I want us."
My mind, again, was screaming that I shouldn't, but I decided to throw caution to the wind. "I want us, too."
He leaned forward, brushing his lips over mine. He smiled against my mouth. "Best. Trip. Ever."
Edward
Bella blushed, her gaze dropping to her hands. She was smiling, but it was shy. She shifted on the couch, clearly nervous. "I don't want to disappoint you," she murmured.
"Doubtful," I said, turning to face her. I tucked one leg underneath the other. "I've been looking forward to this trip since you left, gorgeous."
"I've been eager to see you, too, but I'm hesitant to …" she trailed off, her fingers finding the pendant I'd bought her. She anxiously moved the charm on the silver necklace. She blew out a breath. "Okay, I'm not going to dwell on what might be."
"What do you mean?" I pressed.
"My friends would call me a pessimist," Bella explained, shrugging. "I consider myself more of a realist or pragmatic. I've seen the darker side of life and my mind is constantly twisting at what could go wrong. But, I'm going to try and not do that."
"What do you think will go wrong with us?" I asked.
"You'll hurt me," she answered after a pause.
"Bella, I would never hurt you," I breathed. "I could never raise a hand to a woman."
"Some scars are not physical," she said, blinking up to look at me. "My scars are emotional. I also must think about Seth. I may want this, but he's my priority."
"As your son should be, Bella," I smiled, reaching over to caress her cheek. There was a knock on the door. "That must be my dinner. Our dinner, really."
"You ordered food, even though I might have been later?" Bella asked.
"Call me an opportunist," I said, getting up and walking to the door. The server's eyes widened when she saw me. I plastered on a fake smile, opening the door wider. "Can you please set up the meal on the dining room table?"
"Y-Y-Yes, Mr. Cullen," she stammered, pushing the cart inside. "I'm a huge fan. Can I get an autograph?"
"You will. When I sign for my food," I quipped, a touch of coldness in my tone. The server nodded with wide eyes. She carefully set up the plates, bottle of wine and dessert. With a shaky hand, she gave me the receipt in a small folder. I signed it, acknowledging the meal being charged to my room. I tucked some cash into the folder. "I pray you'll use discretion."
"I will. I'm sorry," she blushed. "You're the first celebrity I've ever met."
"I'm just a guy who was in movies," I said softly. "That doesn't make me any more special anybody else. Thank you for delivering this."
"Of course. When you're done, just push the cart outside and another server will pick it up. Enjoy your stay," she said, tucking the folder into her pocket. Blinking to Bella, she nodded. "Mrs. Cullen …"
Bella went to correct her, but the server hightailed it out of my suite. The door shut with a click and my girlfriend's eyes were wide. "She thought I was your wife," she gasped. "Have you ever been married?"
"I like the idea of having a wife, but no, I haven't been married," I said, striding over to her and offering her my hand. "Dinner, Mrs. Cullen?"
"Don't even," Bella chided, rolling her eyes as she took my hand. I gently pulled her up and led her to the dining table. She sat down at the table, gasping when she saw the items I'd ordered. "This is all too much, Edward."
"Bella, it's not," I said, sitting down and plucking the wine bottle from the bucket. "Some wine, gorgeous?"
"Just one glass. I have to pick up my son after this," she explained, but indecision passed over her face.
"We don't have to drink the wine, Bella," I said. "I think there's soda in the bar."
"You won't think I'm a pain in the ass?" she whispered, looking up at me. "I rarely drink. Only when I'm out with my friends and never around my son."
"Let me see what I've got," I smiled, putting the wine back into the bucket. I stood up, kissing her forehead, and walking to the mini bar. I opened the fridge, seeing a variety of alcohol along with sodas. "There's Coke, Pepsi, Sprite, Diet Coke and Ginger Ale."
"Diet Coke, please," Bella grinned.
I swiped the drink and a ginger ale for myself. I picked up two glasses, walking back to the table. Opening the cans, I poured her soda and handed it to her. "For you," I said.
"You can drink, Edward. Please don't feel like you have to drink soda with me because I'm a control freak," she chided, arching a brow at me.
"I know," I replied. I poured my ginger ale into a glass. I put the plates of food on the table, and we served ourselves of the variety of nosh I'd ordered. "So, how do you like your new car?"
"I love it," Bella beamed. "I picked it up earlier today. My friend, Jasper, drove me to the dealer."
"What did you do with your old car?"
"My other friend, Emmett, said that he had someone who would buy it from me and restore it," Bella answered. "I'm hesitant to sell it. It's my last connection to my dad. The last gift he'd ever given me was that truck. So, I asked his friend would just restore it so I could give it to my son when he got old enough to drive. It'll be expensive, but I want to do that for Seth."
"I'm certain that he'll love it," I smiled.
"Maybe, maybe not," Bella shrugged. "How are things going on your end for the film? How's the new producer? Paul?"
"Things are going well. I haven't met with Paul. I've just been emailing back and forth with him, discussing budgets, creative teams, and the actors for the roles. However, he seems to know his stuff. He's young, but well-liked at the studio," I answered. "At least, that's what I was told."
"You're the director. Do you get a say on who is on the creative team?" Bella asked, nibbling on her meal. "Like, you're completely in charge?"
"Usually, the studio encourages us to use their preferred team, but I'm in charge," I replied. "I have some people that I trust more than anything. Summit is pretty willing to let me bring on who I want for this project. They are over the moon that I agreed to work on the movie. They'd wanted me to work on one of their films for a couple of years now. I was going to take some time off after D-Day, but I couldn't say no to this."
"I'm sorry that you're not getting a vacation or anything," Bella frowned.
"Bella, don't apologize. Yes, I needed a vacation, but this planning stage is not that strenuous. Once we start filming, that's when things get hectic and for me, post-production is intense, as well," I explained. "I need to go through hours of footage, piecing together the movie and creating a cohesive production, a movie that makes sense to the audience and maintains the integrity of the source material. In your case, the book in which the movie is based."
"I can't even imagine the work that goes into creating a movie," Bella mused. "I'm overwhelmed by writing the screenplay. You are coordinating it all and you are … you're so unruffled by it. With the script, I'm terrified that I'm ruining my novel or making mistakes."
"Fuck, I make mistakes with every single production. We're human," I said, reaching over to take her hand. "In the final cut of D-Day, there were a number of mistakes. One of my generals had a disappearing medal in one scene. In another, there was a modern airplane in the frame that I hadn't noticed. Even in multi-million-dollar productions that win Academy Awards, mistakes are made."
"So, I'm just putting too much pressure on myself," Bella chuckled anxiously.
"You are, gorgeous," I smiled. "I won't let you fail. I've reread your novel and it was so powerful the first time, but with each subsequent pass, I've found something more that draws me in to the narrative. It's a combination of the story, your almost poetic writing style and the strength of the main character and the relationship with her son."
"Her child was her anchor," Bella breathed. "She'd been through hell and back, but it was her son that kept her going, encouraging her to fight, even when she was at her lowest. It's important to find an actress and a child actor that have a strong bond, or this will completely crumble."
"I've got a casting director working on finding performers," I said. "Do you have anybody in mind for the characters?"
"I do," she blushed. "It's on my computer. Whenever I start writing a new book, I create files of my dream cast, locations, cars, and anything else. I'm a very visual writer and it helps me to build the world in which my characters reside. My first novel, my files were more like pictures cut from magazines, taped into notebook."
"I'd love to see that," I murmured, leaning my chin on my palm.
Her blush intensified. "I don't know where it is, honestly," she mumbled.
"Really?" I snickered. She hid behind her hands, shaking her head. "Hey, what is it?"
"It's stupid," Bella whispered. "I cut pictures from magazines and usually, I found those magazines in the garbage. Anyway, when I started the romantic lead, I found a photo of an actor I liked." She blinked up, looking at me. "The actor I chose for my romantic lead, the man who fell in love with Charlotte, despite her history, was you."
My smile grew soft at her confession. "I'm honored that you pictured me as a character in your book. Ian and I share a lot of similarities."
"You're both good men," she admitted. "Kind, gentle, and so much more." She looked at me sheepishly. "It was obviously before I knew you. I found a teen magazine in a recycling bin. I was drawn to your photo on the cover of the magazine, and I knew that you'd be a perfect image for Ian."
"I hope I still live up to your expectations," I murmured.
"You far exceed them," she replied, grinning at me. "I cannot believe I told you that. To be honest, I was looking at your physical attributes and I didn't care about the article."
"Let me guess … it had something to do with my romance drama," I grumbled, rolling my eyes.
"Pretty much, yeah. The article was bad-mouthing you and saying that your girlfriend was coerced into cheating by her director or whoever she crossed the line with," Bella explained. "But, like I said, I didn't care about the article. I just liked your appearance, and you were the perfect example of a strong man, with a good heart and friendly smile. I'm grateful that you're not an asshole."
"There are moments where I can be a colossal asshole," I sighed. "I do not handle being sick very well and I'm stubborn as hell. If I don't get my way, I have a tendency to dig my heels in and I can … yeah … it's not pleasant. To be honest, it's rare but it still happens."
"We're similar in that respect, but it's not being an asshole. It's called being tenacious," Bella quipped with wry grin.
"Are you done?" I asked, gesturing to her nearly empty plate.
"Yes, I am. It was very good," she answered. "That glaze on the fish was unexpected, but I really liked it."
"Would you like to go out on the terrace? I got dessert," I said, lifting the tray that held a piece of turtle cheesecake, which I found out was one Bella's favorite desserts. "Do you want some coffee?"
She nodded with a warm smile. I picked up the plates and put them back onto the cart the server had left. I pushed it outside, leaving the plate with the cheesecake and two forks. I opened the door of the terrace overlooking the pool, smiling when I saw a chaise lounge along with a table with two chairs. There were some trees and I noticed twinkle lights. I turned them on. Bella's eyes lit up like the twinkle lights, giving me a soft look. "Get comfortable, gorgeous. I'll make the coffee. They have a Keurig in the bar. Any requests?" I asked.
"Something decaf," she answered. "And, hurry. That cheesecake is calling my name. You may not get very many bites, Edward. I love chocolate."
I laughed, padding to the small bar, and preparing a couple of cups of coffee. I wasn't sure what she liked in her coffee. I balanced the two mugs along with some cream and sugar. When I walked back outside, I saw that Bella was curled up on the chaise lounge. "I was hoping you'd sit there," I chuckled. "Do you like anything in your coffee?"
"Just black," she said. "I worked at McCoffee Café and I learned how to make all the fancy coffees, but I'm a purist."
"A woman after my own heart," I snickered. "I like a touch of sugar, but that's it." Handing her the coffee mug, I put in some sugar in mine. "Scooch forward, gorgeous."
"There are two other chairs, Oscar," Bella teased.
"Oscar?" I laughed.
"You won an Oscar, right?" she asked, arching a brow. "You call me gorgeous."
"Point made, gorgeous," I sang. "But, seriously, scoot forward. I want to snuggle."
"A man who wants to snuggle," she snorted, moving up and I slid behind her. "You are truly a unicorn. You're smart, funny, handsome, unafraid to show affection and … and … you have the patience of a saint."
"Not to mention rich," I quipped. "I also have other positive physical attributes, but I don't want to make you uncomfortable."
"Why would I be uncomfortable?" Bella asked, her eyes swirling with curiosity. "You're not a secret psychopath, are you?"
"When I'm denied sleep, yes," I laughed, pressing a soft kiss behind her ear.
"Don't censor yourself in front of me," she chided. "Yes, I've been through some bullshit, but I'm not made of glass." She turned to look at me. "Let me guess that physical attribute … a jaw that could cut glass? Sexy half grin? No, I know it … you're hung like a horse."
"Holy fuck," I barked out. "Don't hold back, baby."
"So, is it true?" she asked, turning back around, and snuggling back in my arms. She sipped her coffee and picked up the cheesecake. "I know your jaw is sexy and your smile … that just makes me melt. But, are you hung like a horse?"
Pressing my lips to her ear, "Only time will tell, Bella," I purred. She shivered with a quiet whimper. We sat together, sharing the cheesecake. Bella fed me with a teasing look. I nipped at her lips and she giggled. Her laughter was so carefree and musical. With each passing moment, she was becoming more comfortable with me. We made out, laughed, and planned my time in San Francisco.
God, I cannot remember the last time I had a good make out session. Usually, kissing led to foreplay which led to sex. Hours in bed or elsewhere exploring each other's bodies.
Calm down, perv. Patience is a virtue and good things come to those who wait. I'm more than willing to wait for her. She's worth it.
I didn't want to rush Bella. I didn't want to rush this. Yes, we committed to each other and I was over the moon that Bella was willing to explore a relationship. I wanted to give Bella something more. I wanted to take away the sadness in her eyes. Even though she teased and laughed, she held something deep inside her. She'd been hurt. Badly. I wanted to show her that I wouldn't hurt her.
Around nine, Bella reluctantly left to pick up her son. We had another intense make out session at the door and when Bella finally left, I had the worst case of blue balls.
But, it was totally worth it.
Nothing like a date with Rosie Palm and her five sisters couldn't fix.
xx Blockbuster xx
Bella
"So, am I going to meet the famous Edward Cullen?" Seth asked over breakfast. I knew he wanted to ask me about last night, but I was a little dazed. Edward's lips had worked me into a tizzy, and I felt desirable for first time … ever.
With Jacob, he only 'flirted' with me when he wanted something before he turned into a douche. Then, he just …
Don't. Go. There.
I sighed, looking at my son. "I don't know, Seth," I answered.
"It's not like he's your boyfriend," Seth snickered. My face flamed. "Wait, is he?"
"Would you be upset if he was?" I asked.
"Mom, no! You've sacrificed so much for me, for us," Seth said, shooting up and throwing his arms around me. My son was bigger than me and he enfolded me into his embrace. "You deserve to be happy and if a famous person like Edward Cullen makes you happy, then I'm all for it." He smiled at me. "So, can I meet your boyfriend?"
"Seth," I snorted. "You have school."
"He's going to be here the entire weekend, right?"
"He's leaving on Sunday," I answered. "Today, we're doing some touristy things. Saturday, we're working on the screenplay for the movie, kiddo. That's why you're spending the weekend with Aunt Rose and Uncle Emmett."
"Okay, okay," Seth said, kissing my cheek. "Wish me luck. I've got a science test today."
"Good luck, baby," I said. "You'll ace it! Love you, Seth."
"Love you more, Mom," he replied. With a grin, he picked up his bag and ducked out of the apartment.
I took a few breaths and finished my breakfast. I'd told Seth that I was dating Edward Cullen. Holy crap. What type parallel universe was I living in? While I was cleaning up the dishes, my cell phone rang. I wiped my hands on dish towel, picking up my phone from its charger. "Hello?"
"Did you sleep well, gorgeous?" Edward asked.
"As a matter of fact, I did," I smiled. "How about you?"
"I don't sleep well in a new place. At least, not right away," he answered. "I had to drink some herbal tea and took some melatonin."
"We don't have to do anything today," I said. "I could work on the script."
"Nonsense. I just need some caffeine and then I'm good to go. I was just calling to see what time we're going?" he asked.
"I needed to get Seth off to school," I replied, looking out the window and watched as my son got onto the bus. "I should be at the hotel in about a half hour. Will that do?"
"I'm looking forward to it, Bella," he chuckled. "I'll see you soon."
I hung up the phone and almost immediately, it rang again. It was the number from café. "Hello?"
"Bella, there's a delivery for you," Emmett sang.
"Why wouldn't it be sent to my home?" I asked.
"Because it's from a certain hot-shot director. He doesn't know where you live, right?" Emmett snickered. "Are you decent?"
"Seth just left," I laughed. "Come on up." A few moments later, Emmett let himself into my apartment. He held a gorgeous bouquet of pink peonies, succulents, and roses. "Oh, wow. That's beautiful!"
"Hot-Shot did good," Emmett smiled, putting it on my cocktail table. "There's a card."
"You didn't read it, did you?" I asked.
"No, but the flower delivery guy had me sign for it. I noticed who sent the flowers. Anyway, enjoy this loveliness," Emmett said, hugging me.
"Are you sure that Seth spending the weekend with you is okay?" I pressed, pulling out the card.
"Always, Bells," Emmett grinned. "Have fun with Hot-Shot."
"We're working for part of his visit," I chuckled.
"Working or working?" Emmett asked, waggling his brows.
"Go serve some coffee," I grumbled, pushing him out of the apartment. He just cackled as he bounded down the stairs. I shook my head and pulled out the card from the flowers. Opening the tiny envelope, I saw a typed message.
"If I had a single flower for every time I think about you, I could walk forever in my garden."
Alfred Tennyson had a way with words, gorgeous. You said that no one had gotten you flowers. I wanted to change that.
I cannot wait to see you later today …
Forever yours, Edward
I wish I could keep Edward forever. Hell, I was terrified that once he'd heard my whole story, he'd run away screaming. I leaned forward, letting the scent wash over me and I allowed the pretty floral aroma to calm me down. A few moments later, I went out to my car and drove to the St. Regis. Edward was waiting outside, wearing a pair of wayfarers, some dark wash jeans, and a white button down. He pushed off the wall he was leaning against with a grin. In his hand, I noticed a pink peony and my face flamed.
Putting on my hazard blinkers, I parked the car. Once the doors were unlocked, he slid into the passenger seat with a crooked grin. "For you, gorgeous," he breathed, handing me the flower.
"Where did you find pink peonies? They aren't in season," I said, inhaling the fragrant bloom.
"I have my ways," he snickered, reaching over to thread our fingers together after I'd put the car into gear. "So, what's first, Ms. Swan?"
"A tour of Alcatraz," I answered. "I've always wanted to go. Seth went with his school on a field trip, but I was working in the morning and had class in the afternoon and couldn't chaperone."
"That must have been tough," Edward said.
"Yeah, it was. I wanted to experience it with my son, but being adult took priority. I get to experience it with you, instead," I chuckled, driving to the marina. "It's the epitome of San Francisco tourism. If we'd had more time, I'd encourage a visit to Napa Valley."
"Maybe next time," Edward smiled. "I have been there. My parents renewed their vows up there and then we all proceeded to get completely sloshed at their reception. I even think my sister slept with one of the wait staff in the middle of a vineyard."
I schooled my face, trying to remain impassive. Alice was far from my favorite person. She had it out for me all because of her prejudice that I was a 'gold-digger.'
I'm not a gold-digger. With my bonus from each novel I'd written, plus residuals from the sales along with my salary from the movie, I was finally in place where I was comfortable. A place where I felt safe and unafraid that I'd be homeless again.
"I know you don't like Alice. Hell, I don't like Alice very much right now either," Edward said. "She has the tenacity of a bulldog and she's relentless, to be honest. I haven't talked to her since … it's been a while."
"She's been talking to Jasper," I muttered. "Jasper is loyal to a fault, but he's infatuated with her."
"He may be infatuated with her, but he's got your back, Bella," Edward said, his eyes cutting to hers. "He gave her what for when she tried to get some dirt on you from him. She came over, all upset, after that had happened. I agreed with him and that was the last time we spoke."
"I don't want to cause issues between you and your sister," I frowned, pulling into a parking garage. "Why does she hate me?"
"She's been getting emails from an anonymous sender," Edward explained. "Pretty much, the emails are not painting you in the most positive light."
"What?" I asked.
"Alice brought over a huge file with all this 'evidence'," Edward continued. I frowned, my stomach twisting uncomfortably. "I threw it away. I told my sister that anything I wanted learn about you would come from you. Not some anonymous sender, talking smack about you. Though, I do not know who would do that …"
"I lived a hellacious life before landing in San Francisco," I said, parking the car. "I had to do things … things I'm not proud of." I tapped on the steering wheel. "I promise to tell you. Just not today. I want to have fun today and forget about the past."
"Okay, gorgeous," Edward said, taking my hand and stopping my anxious tapping. "I'm not running away."
You might. I gave him a smile, but I knew it didn't reach my eyes. I pulled my hand away and opened the door. Edward hopped out of the passenger seat, stopping in front of me, taking my face into his hands. "Edward …"
"Listen to me," he murmured, staring into my eyes. "When you're ready, I'm here. I'm not running. I won't ever run. I'll listen to you."
"You can't guarantee that you won't run," I argued.
"Bella …"
"Edward," I countered. "I'm grateful that you're willing to listen, but don't make promises that may not be able to keep."
He frowned, his eyes flashing with disappointment. I wriggled away, turning to walk to the boat that would ferry us to Alcatraz. I tried not to cry, but tears fell down my cheeks. Great date, Bella. Edward ran to catch up with me and his frown deepened when he saw my tears. "I'm okay, Edward. I'm used to this," I mumbled.
"You shouldn't have to be, Bella. I hate that you feel like I'm going to run as soon as things get difficult," he said, stopping me and wiping my tears away.
"It's not the first time," I sighed. "Look, let's have fun and ignore my fucked-up past." I strode to the ticket booth, ready to pay for our trip. Edward slid the money to the ticket agent, giving me an arched look. "Edward …"
"We're on a date. Call me old-fashioned or a sexist asshole, but the guy pays," he said, sliding his arm around my waist. I went to argue, but he pecked a soft kiss on my mouth. He grinned crookedly, taking the tickets from the agent, and dragging me onto the boat. We sat down. The sun was trying to peak through the low-laying clouds. "Is it always like this? Sunny inland and cloudy in the bay?"
"It usually burns off by mid-morning," I answered. "I grew up in the Pacific Northwest. This is nothing. The town where I grew up is the rainiest location in the continental United States."
"I've only every lived in California," Edward said. "Mainly in the Los Angeles area except when I was on location."
"On location? Where was your favorite place to shoot?" I asked.
"Hmmm, that's tough," Edward answered. "Each location has its benefits and struggles, if I'm being honest." He slid his hand into mine, weaving our fingers together. "But, I love shooting in Europe. There's so much history there. For D-Day, we filmed on the same beach as the Battle of Normandy. I tried to be as accurate as possible."
"It was amazing, Edward," I smiled. "If I held up a photo from the real battle to your movie, it would be almost exactly the same." The boat pulled away from the dock, cutting across the bay to the island where Alcatraz was located.
"Question for you," Edward said, nuzzling my neck. "What made you choose San Francisco?"
I ran out of gas and had no money to buy more.
I blew out a breath and shook my head. Tell him the truth.
"I left my hometown with next to nothing. My ex kicked me out and I barely subsisted, going from job to job while trying to raise my son. I'd hit a really bad spot. My money was stolen while I was at work and when I tried to stop him, the guy who stole from me, I ended up getting hurt. Long story short, I was at rock bottom. Every penny went to Seth and I'd run out of gas. We walked to McCoffee Café. I bought Seth a cup of soup and I tried to keep it together. Emmett McCarty …"
"The former defensive end for the 49iners?" Edward asked.
"I didn't know that at the time, but yes," I sighed. "Anyway, he and his wife and three kids adopted me and Seth. They helped me get back on my feet. So, that's why I chose San Francisco. Fate …"
"I'm sorry that you had to deal with all of that," Edward frowned. "Are you okay? I mean, after that attack?"
"I'm okay," I answered. "Emmett and Rose, they've given me so much – their friendship, their support and their family."
"You don't have anyone else?" Edward asked.
"No. It's just me and Seth," I shrugged. "I can now include Rose, Emmett, their children and Jasper in that inner circle."
"I hope I can add my name to that list," Edward smiled. I blushed and nodded. "Even if this relationship doesn't work, which I'm certain we will be okay, I still want to be a friend to you."
"I know," I breathed. "For me, it's about trust. It takes me forever to trust anyone. It's due in part to what happened to me. Another part is due to my overbearing protection of my son. I will not let anything hurt him."
"Your son is so lucky to have a mother like you," Edward said, threading our fingers together.
"I'm the lucky one," I said.
We stayed quiet for the rest of the boat ride to Alcatraz. When we arrived, Edward held my hand as we got off the boat and onto dry land. We didn't get a chance to talk because the tour guide began yammering. Edward kept his hand in mine, idly running his thumb over my knuckles. The tour was very interesting, but not very romantic.
The tour was over in a couple of hours and we clambered back onto the boat. Edward nuzzled my neck and I shivered. I was so unaccustomed to such open affection. My dad was not the most demonstrative, but I knew he loved me. My relationship with Jake started as friendship before it morphed into something ugly. I was loving toward Seth, but never to this extent.
"Are you okay?" Edward asked. "You're shaking."
"I'm not used to being affectionate," I answered honestly. He started to pull away. I stopped him. "Don't …"
"I don't want to make you uncomfortable," he murmured.
"You're not. I was trembling because I liked it," I replied. "I just need to get used to it. I've always kept people at arm's length … again, it was a trust issue. It still is a trust issue."
"I can lay off," he said, easing his arm from around my shoulders. I took his hand, twining our fingers together. "I like keeping you close. It's like we fit perfectly together, like two puzzle pieces."
I blushed, looking away from him. It did feel pretty perfect to be held by him. Where he dipped, I swelled, and I reveled in his strength. On the contrary, he was so gentle when held me. There was no malice or anger in his embraces. He let me lead. "I'm sorry," I whispered.
"Bella, don't apologize," he chided gently. "My family, we're notorious huggers and we like to show our affection outwardly. I have to realize that not everyone is like that. I'll lay off. I just … I'm proud to be seen with you. I want to show the world that we're together."
I smiled at him and did something I never anticipated doing. I ran my fingers over his scruffy cheek, kissing his lips. I could feel him grin against my mouth. Our kiss was soft and sweet. However, it was interrupted by a squealing girl. "Oh my GOD! It's Edward Cullen from the Moonlight Saga movies!"
"Damn it," he mumbled, looking at me sheepishly. "It's rare that I get recognized since I haven't been in front of a movie camera in well over a decade, but occasionally, I get a few rabid fans." He turned to face the squealing girl. She ran up to him and began prattling in a high-pitched tone that I could not even understand. Graciously, Edward smiled a few pictures and signed an autograph for her. She backed away, practically vibrating in her skin.
"I could not even imagine dealing with that on a daily basis," I retorted dryly. "How did you manage it at the height of the Moonlight Saga movies?"
"I had bodyguards and I disguised myself. I wore wigs, hats, and sunglasses to hide my features," he answered. "I was protected, but I felt stifled."
"I couldn't even imagine," I whispered.
"You might be under the scrutiny of the paparazzi, Bella. I may not be tabloid fodder, but I am still famous," he shrugged. "I usually keep my personal life, well, personal. But, I want the world to know that I'm yours."
"Why?" I asked. "I'm nothing special."
"That's where we disagree," he argued, kissing me gently. "You are beyond special, gorgeous."
I struggled with his kind words, but I nodded, snuggling close to him. He pressed another kiss to my temple, and we stayed huddled together until the boat docked. We got off the boat. I asked him what he wanted for a late lunch. He said that he wanted something that was truly a San Francisco treat. I gave him a few options and we decided on a restaurant on the pier.
While we ate lunch, Edward told me about his early years as a child-actor. It was interesting to hear him talk about how he got started in the industry. He loved the artistry of making movies and acting, but hated the celebrity that came with it. I asked him if he'd consider doing plays and he liked the ability to do multiple takes. The first take usually was a bust for him and by the third or fourth, he'd nailed it.
He paid for our meal. I wanted to pay, but he surreptitiously snuck the folder and slid his credit card inside.
"Would it be too much to ask to see where you work?" Edward asked as he signed the credit slip, stuffing some cash in as a tip.
"We'll be working there for the screenplay. My apartment is small and … I figured you'd want to work somewhere that has more space," I trailed off, my cheeks flaming. My second-hand, dumpster-diving furniture was shabby. I didn't want Edward to see how I lived. I hid my face behind my hands. I needed to block the redness of my cheeks.
"Bella, why are you hiding from me?" he asked, pulling my hands away from my face.
"I don't know," I sighed. I looked around the restaurant and was grateful that we were in a secluded corner. "I live in a tiny apartment and … I don't … Damn it. I'm a mess."
"You're not a mess, gorgeous," Edward said soothingly.
"You probably live in this ginormous mansion, with all the amenities. When I moved into my apartment, I was grateful to have a bathroom inside the apartment and not having to use a communal shower," I grumbled.
"I don't live in a ginormous mansion. My home comfortable and yes, I'm a snob. I have my amenities … like living directly on the beach … but I live pretty simply for someone who has my bank account," he said. "I would like to see where you work. I would love to see where you live."
"Even if it's a shoebox?" I whispered. He just grinned crookedly, leaning forward, and placing a soft kiss to my mouth. I melted into him. With his tenderness and patience, I'd forgotten about my past, about the long-ass journey that brought me to this moment.
"Have I convinced you, yet?" Edward asked as his lips slid to my neck.
"Today, we'll go to the office and tomorrow, we'll do some work on the script at my apartment," I whispered.
"Tonight, we'll enjoy some more making out," he laughed, standing up and taking my hand. Our fingers twined together, walking to the parking garage.
Edward Cullen was a force of nature. That was for sure.
He pushed me beyond my comfort level. He made me feel like I was worthy of his affection and worthy of happiness. With him, I felt beautiful.
I also wanted him to know the truth …
Unfortunately, when was it a good time to share my sordid, awful past?
To share that I was a murderer?
A/N: Talk about a cliffie … That question, among others, will be explained very, very soon.
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