Reaching for Love

Chapter 14: Stirrings of Love

BELLA

I've never complained about what my father gave me growing up. Never complained about all the birthdays and holidays he didn't spend with me. He did his best as a single parent. I'd always had the things I needed for school, food in my belly, and a roof over my head. He sacrificed for me.

I considered myself lucky. I've heard tales of parents beating their children. Charlie never hurt me physically, and I had a mother-figure in my grandmother to help me through the "girlie" stuff.

Edward settled next to me on the porch swing, having gone in the house to get me some water.

"Now, Bella," Esme started, "what about your parents? What do they do?"

I swallowed the mouthful of water. This mirrored a lot of Edward's inquiries about my dad. "My mom left when I was young. My father's a sheriff in Sammamish."

Edward shifted next to me and gazed at me. I felt his question in the way he looked at me. A gave him a sad, slight smile. He had asked me straight forward about my father's job before we joined his parents on the porch. His mom, I didn't know what it was about her, something told me she wouldn't accept me brushing her off.

When I looked at him, he shook his head with a slight smile.

"Oh," Esme exclaimed. "That must have been hard on you."

My gaze turned to her. "What do you mean?"

"Your father being a single parent."

"Not really. My grandmother was there for me until I was a sophomore in high school. She went to her heavenly home."

"I'm sorry for your lost. And if you ever needed a mother's ear, I'm here for you."

A smile spread across my face. I was already seeing Esme as a mother-figure. "I'll keep that in mind."

We kept talking for a long time about everything from politics to the weather. When I yawned, Edward announced it was time for me to take a nap. Before heading into the house, he went and retrieve my bags.

~~ Reaching for Love ~~

Edward's childhood room wasn't what I was expecting. I had envisioned sports posters or posters of girls in bikinis, instead where framed movie and band posters. A bookcases of books, music, and movies were on one wall. A queen bed opposite the a flat screen tv.

I found his room intriguing. He was a nerd much like me. He seemed to have a passion for movies and music, where I had it for books. A smile spread across my face as I moved to the bookcase. The books were all classics. Maybe he had a thing for books too.

When I turned back, I found Edward leaning against the wall just inside the door. "I'm a bit of a nerd," he said.

"I am, too. I love literature. I haven't found I haven't enjoyed."

He tilted his head to the side, taking me in. "Had you been able to go to college, what would you have studied?"

He had asked the same question when we had met days ago. I had avoided answering then not knowing we would end up married. "English Literature and get my teaching license. Now, maybe the law and become a public defender like Jasper."

Moving toward the bed, I sat not really tired. The cool air and light topics were enough to put me to sleep.

"I could see you as a teacher or a lawyer."

Edward pushed off the wall and sat next to me on the bed, facing me. "Where do you see yourself going?"

My lower lip disappeared into my mouth. How truthful could I be with him? Did I want him to know I was Ivy League material? I wasn't sure. Though the Ivy League weren't the only schools I applied to attend after high school. I applied to local, in-state schools too. "I didn't have any one school in mind. Seattle University was high on my list." I shrugged.

"I didn't either one in mind, however there was one that had a better legal studies program."

"Where?"

"Vanderbilt. I got in but decide to stay close to home and choose University of Washington. Then went on to Berkeley Law."

Drawing up my knees, I asked, "Did you consider any Ivy League schools? Harvard Law?"

His brows knit together a moment, what I was coming to believe was his thinking face. "No. I didn't have the LSAT scores to get into any Ivy League law schools. For my undergraduate, I didn't even apply to any." He chuckled. "I don't even think my SAT scores were high enough or my high school GPA."

Did I dare? "What was your high school GPA?"

"Hmmm… I believe it was 3.24, it went up slightly in college to 3.56."

An "A" average, then.

"What about you?"

I swallowed. "3.97. I was my classed salutatorian, the valedictorian had a 3.98."

His eyes went wide. "And you didn't get a scholarship anywhere?"

I bowed my head. "Partials only. My father couldn't make up the difference, so I decided to work and save for a year, but it turned into 2 before I knew it."

When I looked back up at Edward, he had a frown on his face. "Student loans?"

"My dad didn't want me to be in debt when I graduate, and he made just above the threshold for me to get any other kind of aid."

"I see."

"I'm not sure you do. We grew up in very different ways. You had parents that were there for you, to celebrated holidays and birthdays with. I had a cop as a father who worked the holidays and my birthday to ensure I had the necessities. It was a very lonely childhood after my grandmother passed away." I swiped at my eyes and the tears that had formed.

Edward drew me to his chest and rubbed my back. "I may not know what it was like for you, but I can understand the struggles you had growing up."

"How?"

He rest his head on top of mine. "I've had a client or two from low to middle income families. Much like you, they didn't let there circumstances dictate their lives. They paid their dues and worked their way, and pardon the phrasing, out of the trenches. You are stronger than you know. You are courageous."

His voice got lower as he spoke, and his lips were a breath away from mine when he finished. A palpable sense of anticipation hung in the air between us. I longed for his kiss, was prepared for it, and I would return it.

He didn't press forward, holding the position, and I found myself whispering, "Kiss me."

Edward closed the distance, his lips pressing lightly against mine. It was not a kiss to satisfy lust. It was a tender show of affection.

I lost myself in the tenderness and moaned as my hand came up to rest of his chest. For just a moment as I returned the kiss, I let myself believe he married me out of love and not out of a selfless need to help me.