A/N: Thanks so much for all your wonderful thoughts.

Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest belong to me. All mistakes are mine.

Chapter 20 - Irrefutable

BELLA:

"Bella…"

I awoke to the dreamlike impression of a wonderful and long-forgotten ache between my legs. Like the mossy scent of a passing summer shower, it lingered behind my shuttered eyelids and joined an amalgamation of other ethereal sensations teasing my memory: the crush of hungry lips, mouths puckered on a sweaty neck and limbs, my hands braced around a pair of broad shoulders, his sinuous muscles flexing under my fingertips, his supple backside clenching and unclenching under my anchored toes. It was all just traces, remnants, but enough to feel him…to feel Edward taking us to a realm where only angels could tread.

On the heels of that thought, I wondered…was it all a dream? Our feelings were too in sync, each tender moment too idyllic, every ensuing cry too sensual for it to have been real. It was just too perfect when everyone knew perfection didn't exist.

Before I could panic, I grew aware of other things – the tangible heat of a hand curled around my bare hip, the weight of a long and hairy leg tossed over mine, of the toes rubbing my ankle. Then, there was the soft and rhythmic sound of snoring in my ear…

"Bella…"

…and of my name murmured on a sleepy breath.

My heart skipped a beat. Only years of learned restraint kept my eager eyes from popping open. But, from experience, I knew that rushing these waking moments rattled the loose threads in my head, which was why I'd established my routine. It was one I knew had to be followed no matter how much I may have wanted to skip it, to open my eager eyes wide immediately and visually confirm that-

Eyes still shut, I sighed in resignation.

"All right, Bella, let's get this over with."

First, I turned carefully onto my side. The initial step was usually a good indicator of the day ahead, depending on whether the dark space behind my eyes spun. Thankfully, it didn't, so I allowed myself a breath of relief, but only a tentative one because there were still a couple of steps in which things could go haywire. Moving on, I inhaled and exhaled a series of more deep, cleansing breaths, filled my lungs with healthy doses of oxygen, enough to deal with whatever lay ahead. This step was followed by one that, I soon realized, would be much more challenging to pull off this morning.

How the hell was I supposed to regulate my heart rate and pulse when Edward's long fingers burned my hip? With the cozy heaviness of his leg and its soft hairs brushing between my thighs? With the memory of our lovemaking still branded behind my lids?

Nonetheless, moderating my vitals' rhythm was important. It took effort, but I finally managed to even out my heart rate, to return my pulse to a semblance of normalcy. Then, I opened my eyes.

It was still early, those hours of the day when it neared dawn but wasn't quite there. Moreover, in a town like Forks, where the sun rose in shadowy sepia tones, to begin with, only the faintest hint of impending daylight seeped in through Edward's windows. It cast his bedroom in a tawny gray, an inky glow. These muted shades of imminence were always alluring, colors I'd never encountered anywhere else in nature other than in Forks.

This morning, however, the first blush of sunrise took a far back seat to the sleepy, half-lidded emerald gaze it framed. My breath hitched at the incomparable sight. Concurrently, yet only vaguely, I acknowledged that there'd been no dizziness upon opening my eyes, and the morning routine confirmed another good day. With any luck, it would even be another amazing one.

For a long moment, Edward and I remained silent on our sides, the hand he had splayed on my hip raising goosebumps with each pass of his thumb against bare skin. He shifted closer, his warm lips brushing my forehead. When he pulled back, a small, vertical line was etched in the otherwise smooth space between his brows.

"Everything okay?" he breathed.

I nodded.

He cleared his throat and swallowed, yet his voice came out gruff and scratchy. "Bella, what do you want to get over with?"

In the next second, the downward pull of his brows made sense, and I smiled because, for a few moments, I'd misinterpreted his wary expression as much as he'd misconstrued mine.

"Just something I do when I wake up. Testing the waters, so to speak."

When I tapped my temple, Edward's eyes narrowed even further. Finally, understanding dawned through his early morning haze. Yet realizing his error in interpretation only governed his expression for a moment before his brows knit together again.

"Bella, are you good, my love?" He gripped my hips anxiously. "Shit. That should've been my first question. Are you feeling well?"

The early-morning stubble on his cheek scratched the hand I cupped around his face. I tipped my mouth up to his, tasting his concern in the hesitance of his lips, feathery strokes a sharp contrast with the bristle rubbing against my palm.

"I feel great, Edward." Pulling back, I met his still wary gaze. "I feel…great."

His grip slackened as the tension drained from him, and the proof of his relief seeped into me through his touch, and in the kiss he returned much more fervently, sucking on my lips.

"I'm sorry. When I woke up and heard you murmuring about getting things over with, I thought you were upset about finding yourself in my bed. I'm sorry. I didn't even think about-"

"I'd call you ridiculous," I chuckled against his lips, "but for a second, when you looked panicked, I thought it was because you were upset about waking and finding me in your bed."

He shook his head, chuckling as he slid his arms around my waist and pulled me flush against his hard body. In turn, I slipped my arms around his neck, enjoying the groan he expelled when my chest pressed against his. The heat that radiated off of him and into every part of me, along with the pale, dusky precursor to light encasing us, turned Edward's bed into a private cove, a sanctuary – our haven.

"Bella…waking up and finding you here…I thought I was dreaming," he confessed.

"Me too."

"Last night was…"

"For me too."

"Look at that. We're in sync," he grinned, brushing his lips back and forth against mine.

"I was thinking the same thing earlier," I confessed.

"Mm. See?" He pulled his mouth away, soft, warm lips languidly trekking across my jaw and then skimming down to my throat. I lifted my head, breath ragged as Edward's tongue darted, nipping and sucking. I felt the vein at my jugular pulsing wildly.

"Good morning," he whispered against my skin, and I could hear the grin in his voice.

"'Morning," I murmured up at the ceiling.

His mouth returned to mine, tongue parting my lips, and for a long while, we simply kissed. Our mouths only broke apart to draw breaths, and even then, they'd pucker on cheeks, necks, jaws... The entire time, I tugged at the fine, silky hairs at Edward's nape, scraping my nails through his scalp, eliciting grunts and groans from deep within. When he pushed my back against the mattress and hovered above me, the thick stiffness poking my stomach was unmistakable.

"Jesus, when you do that, you drive me insane."

"When I do what?" I smiled, still playing with his thick strands. "When I kiss you?"

"No. I mean, yeah, of course, that," he grinned lustily, the dim lighting making his eyes shine as brightly as jewels. "But I was referring to when you pull my hair and rake your fingers through it. I was just telling Tristan that no one's touched my-"

I gasped at the mention of my sweet pea, and my ministrations to Edward's hair ceased. Meanwhile, Edward cut himself off and hung his head.

"The instant I mentioned his name, I knew it was a mistake."

I couldn't help laughing. "Seriously, Edward, do you think you should pick him up now?"

Edward sighed, lifting himself on his elbows. "Bella, Forks' version of the sun isn't even out yet," he smirked. "If Trist follows his normal pattern, he'll be knocked out for another ninety minutes. We'll pick him up later."

"We? You don't think he'll be upset if he sees me with you so early in the morning?"

Edward quirked a brow. "Bella, do you still not get it?"

His eyes pierced me, darkening with an undefinable expression that was as thrilling as it was mystifying. There was lust swirling amid the green, evident desire in their dark depths, in his touch, and the stiffness between us. But his eyes…they were aglow with something else, something even more fierce than lust, magnified by the absence of outside distractions and resolute with single-minded tenacity. And as moments turned into seconds, the intensity in his resolve sharpened his gaze into something that excited…and alarmed me in equal measure because I knew.

I knew that as much as putting a name to it would make my heart soar here and now, naming it also had the power to destroy me down the line.

Cradling my face between his hands, Edward slowly lowered himself over me, his hard chest pressed against my soft breasts. More than that, his pounding heart beating in sync with my pounding heart.

"I mean, do you really not see?" He sighed. "Bella, at this point, you're beyond anything, beyond anyone I could just give up at the end of the summer. As if you were seasonal. As if you were a set of keys to a summer house." He snorted, shaking his head. "This isn't just a vacation thing or a warm-weather fling for me, and every day, the aversion, the utter repugnance to the thought of saying goodbye when all I want to say is I-"

"Don't say it," I expelled a long breath.

"Why not?" he spat, obviously stunned and angry.

"What about my limitations?"

"Jesus Christ, Bella." Again, he dropped his head, shaking it from side to side. "Are you serious?"

"I'm completely serious," I said, waiting for him to meet my eyes again. "Don't trivialize it."

"That's not what I'm doing," he said, nostrils flaring. "The hurt that monster has caused you is one of the last things in the world I'd ever trivialize."

"You think you understand it, Edward, but you don't. Not yet. You haven't experienced it. You've seen me sway and stumble a bit. That's it."

His jaw tightened, the angular shape a clear indicator of his sudden shift in mood. Though the hard-on remained.

"That fucking…that goddamn motherfucking…if I ever get my hands on him…"

"This isn't about him, Edward. This is about the fact that there are days when I can barely see straight, much less get out of bed. Or off of my godfather's couch. That has a lot of implications, some which we probably can't even imagine while in this early morning, post-coital fog."

That seemed to take the air out of his furious sails. He exhaled long and hard, then offered me a remorseful smile.

"I'm sorry that I trivialized what you were trying to say before. But do you really think I'm saying what I'm saying because of some post-coital fog? Because then that trivializes what I'm feeling.

Even before last night, I told you," he said, his voice gentle and tender once again, "that on those days when you're feeling your worst, I'll sit right by you – or lie next to you as the case may be."

"What about Tristan? Last night, we agreed to minimize how much we spoke of him during our date. But I think…we have to now."

"I know that Tristan is still too young to sit still for long, but I'll make sure that he doesn't jostle you-"

"Edward, that's not at all what I mean. What I mean is, how is that fair to him?"

"Bella, we spoke about this," he reiterated, an edge back in his tone. "The first day I worked up the nerve to apologize for how I behaved the first couple of times we met, the day I asked you to consider spending time with me, we spoke about how things can get for you, and I told you Tristan and me-"

"We spoke about it. You didn't see it. We spoke about it when your sitting next to me or lying next to me had a clear, vacation end date. When you were attracted to an enigmatic woman you met on vacation, and when I was attracted to a good-looking City Boy, who was a bit on the arrogant side, but whose son was so damn adorable that I was willing to overlook the arrogance in his dad."

Edward held my gaze steadily, an eyebrow raised and lips compressed into a tight line before the stifled mirth escaped.

"Why are you trying to dissuade me now?" he asked much more sedately once we'd stopped chuckling. "I thought last night meant…" - his Adam's apple bobbed – "I mean if you just don't feel the same, tell-"

Cradling his bristly cheek, I cut him off. "I'm not trying to dissuade you. I swear I'm not. I don't want you to change your mind because I feel the same." I brushed my thumb along his jawline, swallowing hard. "I do feel the same…but yeah, a lot has changed between last night and now, between our confessions and lovemaking."

Edward's gaze shifted away from me for a fraction of a second before returning.

"Yeah, it has," he agreed.

"And I can't even wrap my head around all of it yet – all the whats and hows. All I know is that the thought of summer's end…of having to say goodbye to Tristan and…" I choked.

"Shh…" he brushed his lips back and forth against mine, soothing the bewildering ache engendered from a simple thought. "Shh." Pulling back, he offered me a tender smile. "If you won't let me say anything else right now, I'll say this: Bella, I love the way you love my son. But I hope that aversion to the thought of saying goodbye at the end of the summer…I hope some of it is owed to the thought of saying goodbye to me too." He pressed his thumb and forefinger together in the minimal space between us. "It is a little bit about me, right? Right?"

He resembled a mischievous little boy asking for a second treat, or conversely, Tristan in a couple of decades, using that face on a significant other. An errant image flashed through my mind. I pictured myself warning a teenage Tristan that looking at a significant other that way would be an unfair advantage, massively devious, and crafty. The other person wouldn't stand a chance at holding their own.

The wayward thought warmed my heart so much that I chuckled despite the original topic. The chuckle morphed into laughter. Suddenly, I was laughing so hard my back arched off the bed, my head falling back against the pillow.

Edward watched me curiously for a moment, then took advantage and pressed his mouth to my throat again, laughing through the kisses and nips he bestowed. Their reverberation tickled me and turned my peals into shrieks. Caged between his arms, I clung to his shoulders, laughing and shrieking.

"Edward, I'm so happy right now, I'm terrified," I blurted.

Silence.

A warm breeze washed over me. When I met Edward's gaze, I found him exhaling through narrowed lips, ribcage contracting as his breath left him.

"Bella…"

He took my hand, weaving his fingers through mine. For a handful of seconds, he just tipped our joined hands from side to side, watching them, inhaling and exhaling. When he placed our palms over his chest, pressing down hard, his heartbeat had the furious tempo of an eagle's wings.

My breath hitched.

"You feel that? I didn't think my heart would ever beat this way again. Bella…I don't think it's ever beat this way..."

Broken sighs escaped me in quick succession. "Edward, all I'm trying to say is let's not make any promises just yet. As wonderful as this feels right now…as amazing as I think it could be…"

"It can be, Bella. It can."

"There are still so many unknowns. And this is more than just about you and me."

He squeezed his eyes shut…then slowly nodded. When he reopened them, a resigned smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.

"Will you at least keep playing with my hair until it's time to pick up your sweet pea?"

"You play dirty," I smirked.

"Don't forget I'm an arrogant attorney," he quipped without apology. "And Bella? I plan to win this one."

Grabbing two fistfuls, I pulled him down, watching those eyes I adored widen in surprise.

"Do you?"

Flipping us over, I straddled him as I held his gaze the way I knew he enjoyed.

"I hope you do win," I breathed. And in the back of my mind, I tried not to wonder if he'd be disappointed if the day came…when the day came that I couldn't hold his gaze while we made love.

Instead of dwelling on that, I locked my eyes on Edward's as I guided him inside me. They held as I rolled my hips, and he cradled my waist in one hand, grinding slowly at first. His thumb and forefinger alternated between tracing the shape of my lips as they parted on broken sighs and between cupping my chin, refusing to allow me to break our gaze even when rocked frenziedly, chasing our friction…even when I shuddered around him, and his hips bucked, gripping me tightly against his release.

OOOOO

Sated, we dozed off, and afterward, we took a quick shower. With daylight breaking, my anxiousness to pick up Tristan grew, even though I knew he was perfectly safe and happy. Despite Edward's assurances, I was also worried about his reaction to having me arrive with his dad to get him so early in the day. On top of that, there was the fact that he'd be seeing me in the same dress he'd seen me in the previous evening. Not precisely the supposed 'walk of shame' but…I still felt weird about it.

Therefore, wrapped in a towel, I sat on Edward's bed, glaring at the yellow dress neatly folded on a chair along with Edward's dress shirt and slacks from the night before and wishing I'd had the foresight to bring a change of clothes.

"I swear to you, Tristan won't even notice."

"What if he does?"

Edward chuckled. "Even if he does, he won't think twice about it."

"Mm."

He appeared in my periphery and knelt before me, resting a warm palm on my thigh and stroking comfortingly.

"If you're really worried, we can stop by your place first."

"I don't want him waiting. It's fine."

Sighing, Edward chuckled under his breath and pressed a kiss to my forehead.

"I'm so going to win this."

I shook my head, smirking at him while he walked around the bedroom in boxers and wet hair. The thing was, I wanted him to win. He was…a beautiful man, inside and out, and whether the words were said or not, he already filled every corner of my heart. While Tristan…well, Tristan was my heart.

"I can't wait to introduce you to my sister, Alice," he said, breaking me out of my musings while he sifted through his drawers. "She's going to love you."

"Is she coming up to Forks this summer?"

"I think so. She was asking last time we spoke. If not- so what are our plans for the day?"

"Sunday Brunch at Sue and Charlie's? Then maybe a hike with Tristan?" I made my way to the chair that held yesterday's garments.

"That sounds great," Edward replied. I felt him come up behind me before he slid an arm around my waist. Pulling my back against his chest, he unknotted my towel and let it fall to the floor. Then he buried his face against my neck while his free hand held my hair up and out of the way. "Then again, you could've suggested we eat rocks and swim through quicksand, and it would've sounded great."

When he lifted his face, I turned sideways to smirk at him. "It's that post-coital glow."

He laughed, kissing me softly. "Yeah, probably. But whether you let me say it or not, it's much more than that."

"What are you doing?" I breathed.

"Helping you get dressed," he lied.

OOOOO

It turned out Edward was half-right about Tristan's observations of the morning.

As we stood in front of the McCarty household, I drew a fortifying breath, still somewhat unsure how Tristan would react upon seeing me. He'd spent all night without his father; chances were he'd want his dad all to himself for a bit. I resisted when Edward tried to thread his hand through mine, but he grabbed it anyway.

"Stop," I hissed.

"No," he grinned impishly. "No way am I letting you more than a foot from me today; what with this post-coital glow thing going on."

"Godpop 'll just love seeing that face at brunch today," I teased as the door peeled open.

"Jesus," he breathed, raking his free hand through his hair, "don't even remind me."

While I snickered, Emmett appeared. He wore a grin, a black wig attached to a gold-toned, spiral-horned helmet, and a green cape tied around his neck. Behind him, a melee rang out.

"Well, well, we've got a two-for-one! Good! You're both just in time!"

"Just in time for what? Bedlam?" Edward grinned.

"I'm being ganged up on in here, as usual!"

"Then maybe you should stop being the villain," I laughed.

"But I like being the bad guy! It's more fun!"

Edward shot a thumb in Emmett's direction. "You recognize him?"

"Oh, I recognize him, all right," I snorted, rolling my eyes. "He buys a new costume every year."

"Ed, I'll let you be Thor just this once. Yo, Rosie!" he called out, stepping away from the door while we strolled through it, "where's that blond Thor wig and the helmet I wore for Halloween last year?"

"You think I can keep up with all your cosplay?" Rose replied from somewhere. "And you better not get my tablecloth dirty!"

"Aww, Rosie, I promise I'll be careful!"

"Careful? Hah! As if you know the meaning!"

While Emmett and Rose's back and forth continued, another voice called out, this one young and sweet and pulling at all my heart strings.

"Uncoe Emmett- I mean, Loki! You can't escape Cap'm 'Mericah!"

Trist ran into the front room in a blue and white pajama he must've borrowed from Esme, with Blanket tied around his neck.

"Or Spider-man, Dad! I mean Loki!" Esme called out beside Tristan.

Quil followed, with a binky in his mouth despite the faux-iron cloth mask he wore.

"Or Ion Man!" he joined in.

"Oh, my God, it's a mad house," Edward breathed. He'd told about his relatively small family and the very few friends with young children. Kate's family tree was just as small. This was new to him and Tristan – friends and family galore, loud and abrupt. But Edward grinned from ear to ear, and Tristan was having a wonderful time.

"Come on! Let's get 'im!" Trist shouted, leading the charge toward Emmett.

"Hold up! My back-up's here!" Emmett roared, laughing and backing away with his arms in front of him. "My back-up's here!"

Tristan looked up then, emerald eyes like his father's meeting my gaze, rounding and sparkling. The next moment, he deviated from his path and flung himself into my arms.

"Bella!" Unmitigated joy shone in his eyes when he gazed up at me. "Bella, is it a good day?"

"Look at that; he remembered to ask," I heard Emmett murmur in awe while I knelt in front of Tristan and swallowed hard.

"Yes, sweet pea. Yes. It's an amazing day."

"Yay! Yay! Yay!" Tristan shouted, wrapping his tiny arms tighter, with more confidence, around me.

"I misseded you! I had a sleepover with Esme and Quil and Aunty Rose and Uncoe Emmett and Blanket! And I had so much fun! But I misseded you!"

"Oh, sweet pea," I said, kissing his crown and stroking his hair. "I missed you too. So much."

All the while, Edward knelt beside us, quietly watching our exchange without interrupting. He reached out and ran a hand through his son's copper waves.

"Hey, buddy! Did you have a good night?"

Tristan looked over at his dad, waving at him but electing to remain in my arms.

"Hi, Dad!" He returned his attention to me. "Bella, I like your dress. But that's not the one yous wore yesterday – the one that looked like the sun. This one looks like Dad's shote. Is that Dad's shote? I like it! I like the belt too! Is that Dad's belt too? Did you have a sleepover with Dad? I had a sleepover too! Dad, are Bella gonna spend the day with me and you again?"

"Is she going to spend the day with you and me," Edward gently corrected.

"That's what I asking!"

"Why don't you ask her?" Edward chuckled.

"Are you, Bella? Are you?" Trist asked me eagerly.

I nodded. "If that's okay with you."

Another round of 'Yays' was joined by elated jumping, Tristan's agile, little legs bouncing in the space between my arms. I saw the growing concern in Edward's furrowed brow, but I shook my head. Don't you dare, I warned with my eyes.

He chuckled under his breath. "And you were worried about his reaction," he whispered.

Either way, the jumping soon ended, and again Tristan wrapped his arms around me, dropping his head on my shoulder and sighing.

"I love you, Bella."

I didn't even realize I was crying until a drop fell from my chin and onto Tristan's Blanket. And I made them stop falling because I didn't want to dirty my little boy's blanket. All the while, my heart ricocheted furiously within my chest. It touched every organ, every cell, every atom inside me until there was absolutely nothing left that wasn't permanently marked by my heart – and thereby by the little boy in front of me. And by his dad. At the same time, I was overwhelmed by such a sense of responsibility, charged with the all-important guardianship of their hearts…of their well-being above my own.

I blinked successively, trying to see through a blur. I felt light-headed but not dizzy, clearheaded in the most beautiful way. I was vaguely aware of the silence surrounding me as if the entire household… the whole planet had stopped spinning, waiting for a little boy and me to reshape our worlds.

"I love you, too, Tristan. My sweet pea."

And as Trist and I knelt there – this sweet, little boy and me…my little boy and me – Edward's glassy yet triumphant gaze found mine over Trist's shoulder. No, we hadn't said the words to one another, but there are expressions beyond words. There are irrefutable promises you make with your heart, even when you try to resist making them. Even when you know those promises will forever command your every action, for better or worse.

The three of us made those promises in spades that summer.

A/N: Thoughts?

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