Give Me a Sign
The crash of glass shattering signals another drunken brawl. Edward nods to the bouncer from behind the bar. This is what Emmett lives for: legal ass-kicking. Smacking a fist into his meaty palm, Emmett stalks over and grabs both drunken assholes, carrying one under each muscled arm.
"Too much fun, Eddie!" Emmett shouts as he goes by.
Edward shakes his head and returns to serving drinks. He side-eyes one of the waitresses leaning against the bar, waiting for an order. She's tanned and curvy, filling out of the frayed denim short-shorts and tiny red tank the girls wear at Brawny's. The leggy brunette doesn't get hassled by regulars, but the occasional out-of-towner who tries to hit on her adds to the entertainment when she takes them down with a few swift moves.
Some people call her Deaf Bella—at least behind her back. She doesn't speak much, and nobody has the balls to ask if she's deaf or just hard of hearing. Bella doesn't startle when fights break out, or a glass hits the floor and shatters. She's always calm and cool, even when gripping the hand of a guy trying to get fresh with her and twisting until his knees hit the floor. Most of the staff and regulars are good about making sure she's looking at them before speaking so she can read their lips.
Edward spends entirely too much time watching Bella, contemplating how quiet her world must be . . . and other less innocent things. She glances at him with a knowing smile, almost as if reading his mind. Their eyes meet and hold for a few beats, and Edward is thankful the bar shields his tightening jeans. He fills her tray, and she saunters away to serve customers.
It's Tuesday night, and like clockwork, a group of hearing-impaired dart players convenes in the corner of the bar where the dartboards are. Bella finishes serving her other customers and heads over. There are hugs and hand slaps. Bella signs enthusiastically, and hoots of laughter come from the group. It's the most alive Edward has seen her, so animated and free. He's even more turned on.
A couple of busboys rest their bins on the end of the counter.
Riley nudges Paul's shoulder. "Well, look at Deaf Bella! Entertaining her kin."
Paul grins. "Don't bother me. I'd love to tap that." He laughs raucously. "Hey—what's better than a beautiful woman?"
"What?"
"A beautiful woman that don't talk back!"
The buffoons high-five.
Edward glares at them. "Get the fuck away from my bar. Take that dirty shit into the kitchen." He's talking about more than dishes.
Edward tosses a bar towel over one shoulder and is startled to see Bella leaning her arms on the bar when he turns. "Whoa! You snuck up on me." Is it horrible that he finds it hot that Bella watches his lips when he talks? She's just lip-reading, Cullen.
"Sorry," she says softly, looking up from beneath long lashes. She doesn't look sorry at all.
Edward is feeling bold, so he smiles and leans his elbow on the bar. "Teach me to sign something."
Bella's hands fascinate him as she shows him some sign language. Once he starts to get the hang of the movements, she encourages him to speed up. Bella moves to the side and tells him to try again.
Laughter, hoots, and whistles come from over by the dartboards, all eyes on Edward. Bella curtsies and they erupt into more laughter. She glances back at him with a twinkle in her eye.
Edward blushes. "Oh . . . what did I say?"
Bella shrugs her shoulders and starts walking away. She turns back and leans over the bar, crooking a finger at Edward. She brings her lips right up to his ear and whispers, "If you're a good boy, maybe I'll tell you later."
Edward watches her sashay away, speechless.
Emmett slaps his hands down on the bar. "Put your tongue back in your mouth! You're embarrassing me, bro."
"How am I embarrassing you? You know what? I don't want to hear whatever convoluted bullshit you're about to throw at me."
Emmett laughs loudly and heads back toward his post. On the way, he stops by the dartboard crew and chats with them, using a mix of lip-reading and signing. Edward had no idea Emmett was so inclusive, and it makes him feel like a jerk that he hasn't tried harder though he hasn't had much opportunity to mingle with them.
For the rest of the evening, Edward keeps an eye out, looking for indicators of trouble. He also spends a lot of time watching Bella.
After Bella's friends leave, the bar is pretty quiet. A few locals come in around ten, drenched from the rain.
"Hey, Cullen!" Jasper shakes his blonde curls, droplets of water spraying in different directions. "This is my buddy, Seth."
Seth slicks his straight black away from his face. "Hey, man. Nice to meet you."
"Welcome. What can I get you two wet dogs?"
"Who are you calling a dog? Whatever's on tap."
Edward grabs glasses and fills them. "Did you two jump in the lake or . . ." He gestures at the water puddling on the floor.
"It's begun, man! The storm of the century." Jasper grabs a few bar napkins and wipes his face and neck. "Me and Seth are storm chasing. Heard there might be a few twisters in the area."
"No shit! That could explain why the place emptied out so suddenly." Edward looks around. Bella is prepping the empty, cleaned tables for tomorrow, Rachel is leaning against the pool table, counting tips, and Paul and Riley are taking turns ogling Bella and Rachel. "Hey, everyone! We're going to close up early. Storms tonight."
"Don't have to tell us twice!" Riley yells.
Rachel shrugs, sauntering toward the backroom to get her things.
Bella continues setting up the tables, her back to him. Edward walks over and puts himself in her line of vision so he doesn't startle her. Bella glances up and smiles. He thinks she has the most beautiful smile and wishes he could see it more often.
"We're closing; there are storms coming in."
Bella nods. "I have three more tables, is that okay? I don't want to hold you up."
Edward waves a hand. "I need to finish behind the bar anyway."
One by one, each of the employees says goodbye and heads out into the rainy night.
Jasper and Seth salute Edward and leave a generous tip.
"Good luck out there, guys!"
Jasper laughs. "We'll let you know if any cows or wicked witches zoom by!"
Emmett swings by the bar, dropping his keys on the polished surface. "Can you lock up for me?" Edward nods, and Emmett leans forward and whispers, "It's just you and Bella. Make it count." He wiggles his eyebrows, turns around, and leaves without waiting for a response.
Edward rolls his eyes, but the truth is, he wants to get to know the real Bella—not the hot, deaf chick the other guys make comments about or the ball-breaker that takes down rude men. He's watched her interact with customers, seen the way she lets her guard down with her deaf friends, and he wants in.
"You've rubbed that spot five times."
Edward looks up, startled. Bella smiles at him from the other side of the bar. He shakes his head. "Sorry—lot on my mind."
"Could I trouble you for a ride home? Rode my bike today."
"Yeah, no problem. Meet you in back?"
Edward half-asses the rest of his work, anxious to be alone with Bella. He locks the front door and is weaving his way through the tables when the lights flicker and go out. He bangs into the corner of a table. "Shit!" The emergency exit signs throw some light into the shadowy room, and he makes his way to the back.
Bella leans against the wall waiting for him, wearing an oversized hoodie and leggings.
Edward runs into the pelting rain and backs his SUV up to the overhang so he can stow Bella's bike inside. He turns to face her. "Okay, ready to go."
They run for the car, the wind whipping rain in their faces and soaking through their clothes in seconds. Edward is extra wet from being out in the elements twice. He rakes the fingers of both hands through his unruly hair.
Bella giggles and leans over to tame a few wayward strands. Her closeness, the smell of her damp skin, and the warmth of her fingers touching his hair send a shiver of pleasure through Edward.
Just as they're pulling out onto the highway, a loud emergency tone blares from their cell phones.
"Go back! It says to seek shelter immediately due to a tornado . . ." Her words drift away, and she looks across the road.
A loud roaring comes from somewhere nearby, and the car starts to vibrate. Edward throws the SUV into reverse, backs up several feet, hits the brakes hard, and turns the wheel sharply, spinning them around to face the building. He shifts into drive and peels out, careening around to the back door. He fumbles for the keys, then races around to Bella's side and helps her out.
The roaring grows louder, and the ground rumbles beneath their feet. "Come on, we need to get to the basement!" Edward unlocks the door and grabs Bella's hand, yanking her along behind him.
Inside, the sound of breaking glass splits the air as bottles shimmy off the shelves. He grabs a flashlight and opens the basement door, leading Bella down the steep steps. They locate the supports in the center of the building and huddle against them. Edward feels the power of the tornado as the concrete shudders against his spine. He puts an arm around Bella, pulling her close.
More glass shatters upstairs, and the roaring howl of the tornado sounds like it's right above them. The sound eventually grows fainter as the destructive force continues along its path.
They huddle in the rosy glow of an emergency exit. "It's okay," he murmurs, rubbing her arm lightly.
She lays her head on his shoulder. "I know."
"Wait—you can hear me?"
"Clear as a bell."
"That means there's been a miracle or . . ."
"I'm not deaf. Sometimes people make assumptions. I don't correct them." Bella snuggles closer. "Are you disappointed?"
Edward strokes her hair. "No, but—you never jump when there are loud noises. You're always with the deaf dart players."
Bella laughs. "My grandmother was deaf. I like hanging out with them. Truth is, I listen to lectures or music during my shifts . . ."
Edward smiles, shaking his head. "What did you make me sign earlier?"
A deep crimson flushes Bella's face; he can see it even in the semidarkness. When she doesn't answer, he brushes his knuckles over her heated cheek and waits for her beautiful eyes to meet his. Gazing down at her lips, he whispers, "I think it was . . . shut up and kiss me."
When Bella tries to speak, Edward quickly presses his mouth to hers and slides his fingers into the hair at her nape, tracing her clavicle with his thumb. She softens, leaning into him. Edward explores the object of his fascination, sweeping his tongue into her mouth and kissing her deeply. Bella's fingers find their way into his tangled hair, massaging lightly.
She sighs against his lips. "I've always wanted to play with your sex hair."
"I've always wanted to know you."
"Wow, that makes me sound like a perv."
Edward laughs. "There's one in every crowd."
Growing serious, Bella gazes up at him. "How did you know?"
"Emmett. I saw him signing, so I asked him what you had me say."
"Clever."
Edward smiles. "Anyone ever tell you that you talk too much?"
"Actually, no."
"Bella, shut up and kiss me."
