16
"Isabella." At the sound of Carlisle's voice, I looked to my left, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. We had just arrived in San Francisco and were waiting for our luggage to arrive, had been for the last half hour. "I have a bad feeling that they might have lost our suitcase."
I laughed, though it wasn't funny. "They literally had to put it on one plane. How hard is that?"
"Apparently very difficult," he scoffed, turning his attention back to the conveyor belt. Bringing his hand up, he dragged it over his face and through his hair. "Well, I guess we need to file a lost luggage claim."
"Told you we should have just use carry-on bags," I teased, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him down for a kiss.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," he growled, lowing his lips to my neck, nipping and suckling on my skin.
I bit my lip to keep from moaning like a porn star. Carlisle had been touching me, kissing me, tasting my skin every chance he could since we'd left our house in Forks early this morning. He was driving me wild with lust.
"Lover, stop," I gasped, tangling my fingers in his hair and pulling his head back. He was looking down at me with dark blue eyes that were filled with desire and need. God, I wanted nothing more than to suck his tongue into my mouth, but we were drawing unwanted attention. "Let's go before we get arrested for fucking in public."
"If we must," he groused, kissing me once more before releasing me. He picked up both of our carry-on bags, and slid his arm around my waist as we headed to the baggage claim office.
An hour later, we had filled out our form and were waiting for our rental car to arrive so we could go to the hotel and check in. The airline had assured us that they would do everything in their power to locate our suitcase and have it delivered to the hotel as soon as possible, and had given us a voucher for a free dinner at one of San Francisco's best restaurants. Made me wonder how many times they lost luggage if they felt the need to give out free meals.
After a few more minutes, a young, dark haired man, who couldn't have been much older than me, parked a cherry-red mustang convertible in front of us. He climbed out and looked over at me and Carlisle, his eyes dragging down the length of my body before meeting my eyes, and he smirked.
"S'up," he said, nodding his head toward me in a way that I was sure he thought made him look cool, but in reality, he looked like a fool. He was scrawny and his clothes were at least two sizes too big, not to mention that his hair was greasy and he had a serious of acne.
"Hey," I replied, angling my body toward Carlisle, who was glaring at the kid. I placed my hand on his chest, sliding it up to his shoulder and around neck. "Baby, I'm horny. Can we go to the hotel and fuck?"
Though I could feel Carlisle's body tense from shock, seeing as I'm not one to be so . . . forward, when he looked down at me, I leaned up and pressed my lips against his, thrusting my tongue into his mouth. He moaned, his arms wrapping around me, one grabbing the back of my head while the other was palming my ass.
"Holy shit!" the guy spat out, and Carlisle tore his lips from mine, glaring at him.
"Don't use that language in front of my woman," he snapped, his hand still firmly planted on my ass.
"Yes, sir," he stammered. "Sorry, sir."
"Just give me the keys," Carlisle said, sighing with impatience. I leaned my head on his chest, looking over at the young guy and shrugging my shoulders, like I wasn't sure what to say. Honestly, the look of shock on his face had me biting back my laughter.
"Here you go, sir," he stammered again and placed the keys in Carlisle's hand.
My lover led me to the passenger side of the car and opened the door for me, keeping his hand glued to my ass as I climbed in. Then, he shut the door, tossed our bags into the trunk, started the car, and pulled away from the curb, leaving the guy standing there with his mouth wide open.
"Baby, that was cruel," Carlisle laughed, pulling off of the rental car lot and into traffic.
"He shouldn't have been gawking at me," I replied. "I'm taken."
"You bet your sweet ass you are," he murmured with a wink.
Half an hour later, Carlisle drove up in front of a very nice hotel, one of those that I'd only seen in movies like Pretty Woman. I gave him a look as he parked in front and walked around to my side, offering me his hand. A member of the valet came over to him, and Carlisle handed him the keys to the car and instructed him to bring our bags inside, sounding like he was the Prince of England. I found myself becoming turned on with the way he was conducting himself.
We walked up to the front desk and the woman behind it, tall, thin, with perfectly styled blond hair and a big pair of tits looked from me to him, her smile growing. "How may I help you?"
I wanted to gauge her eyes out, but I didn't. Instead, I stood there while Carlisle said, "We have a reservation for Cullen."
Her eyes widened, though I wasn't sure why. "Of course. We have everything set up for you, Mr. Cullen," she rambled, stroking a few keys of her keyboard before printing out a receipt for him to sign, laying two room keys on the counter, and snapping her fingers toward one of the bellhops. "Please, assist Mr. Cullen with his luggage."
"That won't be necessary," Carlisle said, waving the young man off with a smile. He picked up the two key cards and wrapped his arm around my waist. "Thank you."
Though she looked taken back, she nodded, her eyes flittering to me before turning back to him, a tight smile pulling at the corners of her lips. "If I can be of assistance, please let me know."
"I will," he said, and there was something in his tone that sent a shiver up my spine. "Ready, Isabella?"
I nodded, unable to say anything. Carlisle led me toward the elevator. When we stepped inside, he pressed the button for the top floor, ignoring the way I looked at him. When the elevator finally stopped, and the doors opened, he led me out into the hallway, tugging me toward the left to the far end. There were only two rooms on the floor from what I could tell. Ours and one on the other side, which had me nervous. Something told me I didn't know everything about the man I'd fallen in love with.
Carlisle unlocked the door and held it open, waving for me to walk in first, which I did. Except, it wasn't just a room. No, it was many rooms. As in a suite, as in a living room, kitchen, bathroom, two bedroom suite that made the house I'd grown up in look like a trailer house.
"Shut your mouth, baby," he laughed, sliding his arms around me and pressing his lips against the side of my neck. "You like it?"
"Um, it's nice, but do I want to know how much it costs?" I asked, cocking an eyebrow at him.
"Probably not," he admitted, moving his lips to my ear. "But you don't need to worry about that, beautiful."
"I don't?" I asked.
He shook his head and then sucked my earlobe into his mouth. "But seeing as we don't have any clothes to wear, I think we need to go shopping."
I groaned, but nodded. "Fine. I suppose you're right. I mean, I can't just be naked for the next three days, right?"
"Well, you could," he laughed, spinning me so that I was facing him. "But we'd never find a house, never check out the schools, never leave the bed. But, hey, I'm up for it if you are."
"Pun intended?" I asked.
"Pun most definitely intended," he snickered, bringing his hands up to my face.
"As fun as that sounds, and trust me it does sound like a good time, we do have to find a place to live. The boys are kind of counting on us to provide shelter."
Carlisle sighed dramatically. "Fine. Whatever. I'm just gonna call and check on them real quick, okay? Make sure they haven't tied Alice and Esme to chairs or running around with scissors."
"Well, there goes their plans for the weekend," I scoffed, grabbing the bags from next to the floor and carrying then into the larger of the two bedrooms. "Hope I don't get lost."
"Leave a trail of clothes behind," he laughed. "I promise I'll find you."
Rolling my eyes, but feeling my skin warm from his flirting, I placed the bags on the bed and opened them. We didn't have much. A few books, our cell phone chargers, some snacks, and my iPod. I stowed the two bags in one of the dresser drawers before walking back out to the living room, finding Carlisle standing next to the balcony doors with the phone pressed against his ear.
"Do it again?" he murmured, his smile growing bigger when whoever he was talking to did whatever they had done again. "I'm so proud of you, Ty. You just read that book all by yourself!"
Carlisle laughed and looked over his shoulder at me. "Yes, I'm sure she's proud of you, too . . . Okay, hang on." He held his phone out to me. "Tyler would like to speak to you."
I grabbed the phone from him and sat on the edge of the couch. "Hey, sweetie, you having fun with Alice and Esme?"
"Yeah," he said. "Though, they kiss a lot. Like you and Daddy. It's kind of gross. I mean, I'm only four! I shouldn't have to see that kind of stuff yet!"
"Oh, well, I'm sure if you tell them to stop, they will," I snickered. "What's this I hear about you reading a book all by yourself?"
"I did!' he cheered, almost yelling into the phone. "Listen." I heard the sound of him opening the book. "The dog barks. The cat meows. The pig oinks. The cow moos. Didn't I do a good job?"
"Yeah, you did amazing," I murmured. "Michael okay?"
"Yeah, he's watching TV with Alice. Esme was helping me read," he said, softly. "Bella?"
"What, sweetie?"
"I miss you," he whispered.
I smiled. "I miss you more. Daddy and I will be back in a couple of days, but if you need anything, you tell Alice or Esme and they'll call us. Promise?"
"Yeah, I promise," he grumbled.
Handing the phone back to Carlisle, I waited as he talked to Tyler and then Michael for a few more minutes. It always touched me how patient and calm he was with them. The boys could be a handful, especially when they didn't get their way. I had expected them to throw a fit about not being allowed to come to San Francisco with us, but they didn't.
"Well, it sounds like Alice and Esme have everything under control," he said, sliding his phone into his pocket.
"You sound surprised." I laughed and stood up. "Alice has babysat her little sister and cousins since she was eleven, and Esme worked at the university daycare as a part of her work study."
"Well, I'm glad. It's nice to have a large family to trust our boys with," he said, grabbing my hips and pulling me against him. "Now, we have clothes to buy. Are you ready?"
"I suppose," I sighed, leaning up on my toes and pressing my lips against his. "Have I told you today that I love you?"
He shook his head. "No, and I was starting to doubt you."
"Liar," I accused. "You know that I'm only yours."
"I do," he admitted. "Just like I'm yours."
"You are," I whispered. And I knew he always would be, no matter who or what tried to get between us.
—TB—
When Carlisle mentioned us grabbing some clothes, I assumed that we'd hit the closet Wal-Mart, or maybe a small strip mall, but when he drove through Union Square, and I saw Bloomingdales, Barney's, Macy's, Nordstrom, and Saks Fifth Avenue, I became concerned. I mean, I was a T-shirt and jeans kind of woman, and those were not T-shirt and jeans type places.
Luckily, Carlisle drove past all of them, and parked in front of an Old Navy, giving me a wink as he led me inside. We each found a couple pairs of shorts, some tees for him and tank tops for myself, as well as a couple pairs of cheap flip-flops. I also grabbed a cute sundress while Carlisle found some slacks and a dress shirt. San Francisco was hot, especially compared to Forks. With a pair of swim trunks for him and a bikini for me, we paid for our purchases before heading to our next store, which conveniently happened to be Victoria Secret's. Yeah, my pervy man didn't surprise me and had the best time picking out panties and bras for me, begging me to give him a fashion show. I refused, though I bought more panties than I needed. With the way he seemed to like ripping mine off of me, I knew I needed a few extra pairs. Once I had new underwear, and he'd found some for himself at another store, we climbed back into the car to head back to the hotel. Or so I thought.
Carlisle drove to a small jewelry store located just a few miles from Union Square. He gave me a smile as he led me inside, where we found a tall man with dark black hair and warm, friendly eyes. The man, who had to be in his mid-sixties, looked up from the rings he had been cleaning, his eyes shifting from me to Carlisle and he threw his head back and laughed.
"Carlisle! I was wondering when you were going to show up here," he exclaimed, his accent thick with a Latin tone. He, once again, looked over at me. "Oh, she's exquisite. He did not do her justice when telling me about her."
"No, I'm sure he didn't," Carlisle said, walking over to the man and offering him his hand.
However, the man scoffed and rushed around the counter, one hand gripping the top of a wooden cane, and wrapped his free arm around Carlisle, giving him a hug. He stepped back, placing his hand on Carlisle's shoulder. "Tell me, how are your boys? I haven't gotten any new pictures lately, by the way."
"Yeah, I'm sorry about that. Life just kind of . . . got in the way," Carlisle said, smiling. "The boys are good. Growing like weeds."
"They're happy? Healthy?" he asked, his forehead furrowing.
"Both," Carlisle stated, reaching out for me. "Largely due to her."
I took a hold of Carlisle's hand and let him pull me toward him as the old man shifted his eyes to me. "Aren't you going to introduce us, Carlisle?" he asked, his grin growing.
"Isabella, I'd like you to meet Eleazar, my uncle," Carlisle said, smiling.
"It's lovely to meet you," I said, offering him my hand.
Eleazar's grin grew as he wrapped his fingers around mine with one hand and then covered both of ours with his other hand. "It's an honor, Isabella. I've heard so much about you. You've cast quite a spell over the Cullen brothers. They all speak very highly of you. If I didn't know better, I'd swear they were infatuated with you, though I can see why they would be. You're strikingly beautiful woman."
"Oh, I don't know about that," I murmured. "They've been very kind to me over the last few weeks."
"Yes, I heard about your mother. I'm so sorry for your loss. It's never easy losing the ones we love."
"No, it's not," I agreed, trying to blink back the tears.
Eleazar released my hand and looked over at Carlisle. "I suppose you've come for it."
"I have," he said. "Is it ready?"
Giving him a subtle nod, Eleazar hobbled behind the counter, unlocked a drawer under the cash register, and pulled out a small, black velvet box. He placed it on the counter, nudging it toward Carlisle, who reached out and picked it up with bated breath.
"Thank you, Eleazar. I know this was a lot to ask," he murmured, looking up at his uncle.
Inhaling a sharp breath, he shook his head. "One look at your bride, Carlisle, and I knew it had been made for her. I'm very happy for you, for both of you. If I can assist you in any other way with your move, please do not hesitate to call upon me. I may be old, but I can still help."
Carlisle laughed. "We'll give you a call. Thanks again," he said, sliding the box into his pocket.
"You're welcome." Eleazar looked over at me. "Until next time, Isabella."
"Goodbye," I murmured, the word stumbling out of my mouth and sounding awkward.
Carlisle led me back out to the car, opening the door for me like a gentleman. Once I was inside, he slid in behind the wheel, and he drove us back to the hotel. Gathering our purchases in his hand, he placed his arm around my waist again and led me across the lobby and to the elevator. Once we were back in our room, he turned to me and said, "Do you trust me?"
"You know I do," I laughed.
"Then, go shower and get dressed for dinner. Wear the dress you bought today, okay?"
I nodded. "Are you going to shower with me?"
He groaned. "As much as I want to, I had a few phone calls to make."
"Okay," I sighed, dramatically. "But I'll miss you."
"I'll miss you more," he murmured, leaning down and kissing me.
Knowing it was futile to argue with him, grabbed my bags and walked into the bedroom, dumbing everything onto the bed and laying my new dress out. I added a pair of pink, silk panties with a little mint green bow in the front to the bed and walked into the bathroom and took a shower. Half an hour later, I was dressed and waiting for Carlisle to finish getting ready. He walked out of the bedroom and I felt my heart clench in my chest. He was gorgeous, and mine. All mine.
"Wow," he said, dragging his eyes down my body before meeting my gaze. "You look . . . amazing isn't a strong enough word." My skin warmed, causing him to groan. "That blush . . ."
"Yeah, which you enjoy too much," I scoffed. "And thank you. You look amazing, too. In fact, I'm feeling the urge to drop to my knees and suck you off right now."
Carlisle's mouth opened and closed as his hand reached down and covered his cock. "Baby, you can't say that to me. The image it too fucking tempting."
I smirked. "I know."
He narrowed his eyes at me, but didn't say anything else as he placed his hand on my back and led me out of the room, down the hall to the elevator, and inside the car. The air was thick with sexual tension, yet neither of us made a move toward the other. The anticipation was worth the wait, at least that's what I told myself.
When the doors slid open, Carlisle laughed softly as he led me through the lobby and back out to the car. The sun was just starting to set and the sky was a mix of blue and orange. It was beautiful and I already found myself falling in love with area. It felt like home, like someplace where we could be happy, where we could be us without worrying about what everyone around us was going to think.
Carlisle stopped and picked up a bottle of wine before he drove through the city and along the coast line. He held my hand under his on the gear shift, using both of our hands to shift from gear to gear. After another half hour, he pulled off on a small road, drove through some trees, and parked in a small clearing. He climbed out of the car and grabbed my hand, helping me out before leading me down a small, cobblestone pathway. As we walked through the line of trees, I felt my heart leap in my chest. We were in a small, private cove, the sand was soft and sparkled under the settle sun. To the left was a small diner, with only a handful of tables and chairs outside. There were hundreds of twinkling lights stretched over them, creating a private veranda.
"Carlisle?" At the sound of a woman's voice, I looked to my right, finding a woman with almost snow-white hair walking through the trees with a box tucked under her arm. She was older, probably in her early fifties, and she was beautiful. Her eyes widen as he laughed and walked over to her. She placed the box on the ground before cupping his face. "Oh, my sweet boy, is it really you?"
"Yeah," he murmured, giving her a hug.
The woman squealed when he lifted her off the ground. "Put me down! I'm not young anymore!"
"Oh, nonsense, Sasha," Carlisle laughed before looking over at me. "I'd like you to meet someone."
"Oh, I've heard all about her," Sasha cooed. "I see they weren't lying, either. She's beautiful."
"She is," he agreed, his smile growing as my skin warmed. "Isabella, I'd like you to meet Sasha, my aunt and Eleazar's wife."
"It's nice to meet you," I said, tilting my head toward her.
"Oh, the pleasure is all mine, my dear," she laughed and then looked up at Carlisle. "I've missed you, sweet boy. You don't come home nearly enough."
"I know, but it's hard," he murmured, clearing his throat. "I was hoping you'd let me borrow the bungalow for a little while."
"You don't have to ask, Carlisle; it belongs to you," she chided. "But I'm afraid I haven't been there in a few weeks. It's not going to be clean."
"That's okay. I just want to take Isabella there, maybe get some take out," he added, batting his lashes at her.
"Oh, you cheeky devil," she snickered. "I'll put something together for you, but only if you carry grab me two more boxes from the locker."
"Deal," he said, leaning down and kissing her cheek before looking over at me. "I'll be right back."
"Okay," I said.
Carlisle walked through the trees in the direction that she was coming from. Sasha bent over to pick up the box at her feet, but I stopped her. "I'll get that."
"Pssh," she sputtered at me. "I've got it. I'm only making him do it because I knew he wouldn't say no." She laughed again as she picked it up. "Follow me, dear."
Though I was nervous, I found myself following her into the restaurant, which wasn't much bigger than a train car. There were no tables inside, only a long counter to prep food on, a huge stove, and a large fridge, sink, and shelving system.
"I got started late tonight, and I have to get this stuff stocked before the crowd hits," she explained, ripping open the box and pulling out paper wrapping and placing it on the counter. Then, she turned to the fridge and took out two bowls full of shrimps, some crabs, and began to place them in a pot of boiling water on the stove. "Tell me about yourself, Isabella."
I tensed. "Oh, um . . ."
She had just placed one of the crabs in a pan of water when she looked over her shoulder at me. "You've been through a lot, haven't you? Other than the loss of your mother, I mean."
I nodded.
"Yes, I thought so. You have the same look he does. Or did, at least," she murmured.
"Who?" I asked.
She shook her head. "Carlisle. Losing his mother like he did, not being here for her . . . Well, it crushed him. He married that woman, and moved away, trying to start over. That's what he told us. Then she up and left him with those two little boys, and . . . Well, I guess you know more about it than I do."
"I love him," I said, causing her to look back at me. "I love him and the boys. I know that his ex-wife hurt him when she left, and I know that the boys are the most important part of who he is, because they come first. And they'll always come first. But I love him, and he . . . he loves me."
"Did I make you feel like I was doubting your feeling for that boy?" she asked.
I shook my head, dislodging the tears that had been hanging on to my eyelashes.
"Oh, dear," she fretted, grabbing a dishtowel off the counter and handing it to me. "I'm such a nosy old hag sometimes. Eleazar is always telling me to mind my own business, but I just can't help it. Not where my boys are concerned. Hell, Marcus, Garrett, and Carlisle are the closest thing I have to children, and I guess I've always considered them to be mine. I'm sorry if my meddling upset you, dear."
"It didn't," I whispered, and taking a deep breath. "It just feels like we've had to justify our relationship to everyone. I guess it's become habit."
She sighed. "Yes, well, people are assholes."
I laughed as the door to the diner opened and Carlisle came in, heaving two large boxes. He placed them on the floor next to the shelves and looked from Sasha to me, his smile dropping when he saw the lingering tears on my cheeks.
"Sasha! What'd you say to her?" he demanded.
"Nothing!" she exclaimed, and when he lifted an eyebrow in her direction, she smiled. "Well, I might have mentioned having several baby pictures in my possession of you running along the beach naked."
His lips pressed together as the woman laughed. "Not funny, Sasha."
"Oh, it is, too," she scoffed, pushing him out of the way and grabbing coffee cup from the top shelve and digging a single, silver skeleton key from inside. "Are you sure you want her to see that place before I've had a chance to tidy up?"
"Yes, Sasha," he replied, taking it from her. "Thank you."
"You're welcome, sweet boy." Reaching up, she patted his face. "Give me a few minutes, and I'll have food for you."
Carlisle unpacked the two boxes that he brought in while Sasha finished cooking and packaging our dinner, refusing to allow me to help or the money that Carlisle offered for the food. She waved us off as we headed down the beach to the bungalow that he was determined to show me. I found myself in awe of how much about him that I didn't know, like the fact that he had family in San Francisco at all. It made me realize that there was a lot I didn't know, but couldn't wait to find out.
Carlisle and I had been walking down the beach for a few minutes when I saw the silhouette of a small house. As we got closer, Carlisle pulled away from me and ran toward it, going around to the back. A moment later, I heard the sound of a generator being turned on and Carlisle came back to the front, unlocking the door, and flipping on the lights.
The inside was incredible. It reminded me of those beach houses that I'd seen in those old surfing movies. One large room with a bed, couch, and chair, but not much else. Leaning against one of the walls, however, were a group of surf boards, which struck me as odd. I never saw Carlisle as the surfing type.
"Yours?" I asked, pointing toward them.
"One of them is," he said, walking over and pulling out a long, black and white stripped one. "I haven't been on the water in years, though." He leaned it against the wall and looked over at me. "Guess I have some explaining to do, huh?"
I nodded. "You grew up in San Francisco?"
"I did," he admitted. "Until I was fifteen, and then my dad moved us to L.A. But the Bay has always been my home."
"Why didn't you tell me before?" I asked.
"I didn't want my life here to be the reason you picked Berkeley. I wanted you to pick the school you wanted to go to because it's what you wanted."
I nodded in understanding. "But why not afterward?"
He smiled. "Because I wanted to see the look on your face when you saw the area for yourself, when you saw this part of me."
"Tell me more," I murmured.
"Like what?"
"Everything," I said.
Carlisle blew out a heavy breath and gestured to a small, wooden table. "Let's talk while we eat."
Agreeing, we cleaned off the table before spreading our food out. Everything was so good, the best seafood I'd ever eaten. Carlisle picked up his glass of wine, taking a small sip. "My dad met my mother here, on this beach. Just fifty yards from the front door."
"Really?"
He nodded. "He was twenty, and she was seventeen. He'd just finished his undergraduate studies at Berkeley and was getting ready to start his first year of medical school. He and some of his friends had decided they wanted to spend the summer being beach bums," he laughed. "You know, camping out on the beach, spending their days on the water. You should see their pictures. Hair to their shoulders, tanned skin, tight shorts. It's disturbing," he snickered.
"They'd been on the beach a few weeks when they decided they wanted to surf. Of course they'd never had a lesson, had no clue what they were doing. They rented some boards and set out on the water, which is stupid. My dad paddled out too far, got caught up in a nasty wave. My mom pulled him onto her board and brought him to the shore. He crawled off her board, coughing up half the ocean. She stood up and shook her head, called him an idiotic asshole, and told him to get his ass off her beach. She went back out on the water, surfed for the next few hours before coming back in. When she got there, he was still sitting on the beach. She tried to ignore him, but he followed her up to the bungalow, tried to thank her for saving his life. She told me how she just stood there staring at him like he was the biggest tool she'd ever seen, which he probably was.
"My mom grew up on the beach, lived about ten miles up the coast line. Her parents, my grandparents, believed in free love and living everyday like it was the last. They would wake up every morning and go surfing, spent the day slinging seafood in the diner. It was a family business, everyone worked there. People would line up for miles to get some of Grannie's shrimp and lobsters. Hell, they still do."
Carlisle smiled and took another sip of his wine. "Anyway, my dad insisted on taking her to dinner, to thank her for saving his life. She refused, telling him she wasn't interested and before he could ask her again, she shut the door in his face. She figured he'd give up, go find some other chick to hit on, but he didn't. Every day for three weeks he showed up, asked her out, and she'd say no. When I asked her why she'd turned him down, she told me that she didn't think college guys like him would ever really want a girl like her for anything other than sex."
He paused and shifted up in his seat, placing his elbow on the table. "My mom, she was the freest person I'd ever known. Everything was sunshine and rainbows, unicorns and roses. She'd . . ." He laughed. "She'd drag us out of bed at three in the morning so that we could sit on the beach and watch the sunrise, then cart us off to school with a note to our teachers explaining why we were exhausted. She'd make my father pull over on the side of the road just so that she could run through a field of wildflowers, making flower wreaths for her hair. She always smiled, always laughed."
"She sounds amazing," I murmured, reaching across the table and covering his hand with mine.
"She was," he agreed. "After three weeks of asking, she finally said yes. She claimed it was just to get him to leave her alone, but I think she liked him. He showed up here wearing a suit and tie. She just smirked as she pulled a cover-up over her bathing suit and led him down to the diner. She ordered three dozen oysters and two bottles of lemonade. Then she took him down to the beach. Something changed for that night. She never told me what, but she said she saw him in a new light, that he won her heart.
"They spent the summer together, but when the fall came, it was time for him to go to medical school. He promised her that they'd find a way to be together, but it was hard for them. My grandfather, his father, put a lot of pressure on my father to excel at everything." Carlisle paused once again. "In a lot of ways, my father is very much his father's son. He held me and my brothers in the same regard, always harping on us about making sure we were at the top of our classes, always number one. Even Garrett, the lawyer," he laughed.
"That must have been difficult," I said. "Growing up with that kind of pressure on your shoulders."
Carlisle nodded. "Being a Cullen comes with a lot of responsibilities. Especially in this area. He risked everything for my mother, risked his families reputation, their status. And he worked hard, he became a successful surgeon, highly respected and sought after, but it came at a price, a heavy price. He pushed us so hard that when we didn't live up to his standard, he took it as a personal failure."
"That doesn't seem fair," I said. "To judge the mistakes you make as a reflection of him."
"It wasn't fair." Carlisle smiled. "Don't get me wrong, Isabella; I love my father. He taught me what it means to love a woman, to cherish her. He loved my mother, she was everything to him. His reason to live, and when she got sick, when he couldn't save her, it killed him. He never recovered from losing her."
"Neither did you," I whispered.
He shook his head. "No, I didn't. I just . . . I wish I could have said goodbye, told her how much I loved her." He shifted his eyes up to mine. "I wish she could have met you. She would have loved you."
"You think so?" I asked.
"Oh, yeah," he murmured. "You love with your whole heart." Carlisle leaned back. "Are you done eating?"
I nodded. "It was good."
"Sasha is an amazing cook," he chuckled. "Just don't tell her I said so. She'll never let me live it down."
"I promise," I laughed.
Carlisle cleaned up our mess before sliding his hand into mine and leading me out of the bungalow, down onto the beach. The moon was shining brightly, illuminating over the water. "After my mother died, I didn't feel welcomed here anymore. My father was an angry man, and he said some horrible things to me, accused me of abandoning my mom when she needed me. I let my grief get the better of me and I lashed out at him, saying things I'd never be able to take back."
Stopping at the edge of the shoreline, Carlisle turned and faced me. "I left San Francisco and married Tanya. She and I had been seeing each other for a few months. I thought I loved her. I got an internship in Forks and then she got pregnant with Michael. She hated it there, hated the cold, hated the rain, hated me. I wanted to make it work, I wanted to be a good husband to her, a good father. And then Tyler came along, and she got even angrier. Still, I thought we could work it out, thought we could be something we weren't supposed to be.
"On the night of Tyler's first birthday, after my brothers had left and I'd cleaned the house after his party, I went upstairs to the bedroom and I found her standing next to the bed with a suitcase. She just looked up at me and said she was done. She couldn't do it anymore. She said she loved me, but she wasn't in love with me and trapping her in this life wasn't fair to her. I didn't know what to say because my boys, they're everything to me," he whimpered, and I saw tears flooding his eyes. "I didn't understand how she could leave them. Not being with me is one thing, but to just leave her children is something different. But she kissed them as they slept and left — left me to explain to them the next morning why mommy wasn't there. Having to look at Michael's face and tell him that she wasn't coming back was the hardest moment of my life.
"I didn't plan on falling in love again, plan allowing myself to be happy," he murmured, bringing his hands up to my face. "Then one night, I needed a babysitter and Dr. Gerandy, of all people, recommended you. And when I saw you standing on my front porch — so beautiful, so innocent, so perfect — my heart started racing and for the first time in years, I felt something other than anger, something other than bitterness for the life that I'd been dealt, you know?"
"I do," I cried, unable to stop my tears. "I felt the same way. Being with you made the ache from losing my father easier to handle."
"Exactly," he said, brushing the tears off my cheeks. "Isabella, you gave me a reason to smile and laugh, to live again. I love you, and I want to spend every day of the rest of my life with you. And I know that I've already asked you, and you've already said yes," he murmured, pulling out the small, black box from his pocket. "But, I'd like to ask you again. Isabella, will you marry me?"
"Yes," I whimpered as he opened the box and showed me the ring. It was beautiful. A rather good size diamond surrounded by a dozen small sapphires set in white gold band. My breath caught in my chest as he slipped the ring out of the box and slid it onto my finger. It was a perfect fit. "This was your mother's ring, wasn't it?"
Carlisle smiled and nodded. "She left it to me, but by the time I got it, I'd already bought Tanya one. I don't know, maybe I knew it was never supposed to be hers."
"Are you sure you should give it to me?" I asked, softly and looked up at him. "Maybe Kate should have it, or Marcus seeing as he's the oldest."
"Marcus wouldn't want a ring like this, Isabella. He's gay," Carlisle snickered.
"Seriously?"
He nodded. "He hasn't officially come out, but Garrett and I know. I mean, he's said it without actually saying it."
"And Garrett? Shouldn't he give it to Kate?" I asked.
"I offered it to him," Carlisle admitted. "I didn't think I'd need it, but he said no, said Kate wasn't the woman meant to wear Mom's ring. And he was right. You were." Carlisle lifted my hand and placed it on his chest. "Look how perfect it fits."
I smiled, leaning up on my toes and wrapping my other arm around his neck. "I love you. Thank you for sharing this part of yourself with me."
"I love you, too," he whispered, wrapping his arms around me and lowering his lips to mine.
Thank you for all the reviews. Whew, this chapter. . . . I hope you enjoyed it. I kind love Eleazar and Sasha. Now, I know I said this story would have twenty chapters, but seeing as this chapter topped seven thousand words and I barely got a quarter of what I had planned, there will be at least one or two extra chapters. Something tells me, you won't care! Do me a favor and leave me a few words, let me know what you think. K? Please? I'll throw in a naked Cullen man of your choice.
