This is a long chapter, but one I hope was worth the wait :)
"Bella, I can't find Alice and I need to know where these last two go."
I turned to find Sam walking towards me. Tall, thin pedestals topped with pink lilies and roses were in each of his hands.
"She's talking to the caterer at the moment, but I'm pretty sure those go in front of the windows, Sam. One on each side of the archway. They're easy to move, if need be."
He nodded and headed in that direction.
I looked around the multipurpose/event room with satisfaction. There was a wedding taking place at Luxe this evening and Alice had really outdone herself. Everything was decorated in shades of pink and gold with crystal accents, and the scent of fresh flowers filled the air. It was going to be a small, intimate wedding, only fifty guests. The ceremony itself was taking place in here, right in front of the large windows, in less than an hour.
This was the first major event at the hotel since I'd returned to work almost three weeks ago and I relished the feeling of being back in the swing of things. I'd missed the day to day interactions with my staff and guests.
"That's perfect, Sam!" Alice called as she hurried into the room. "You're the best, no matter what Emily says!"
We all laughed. Emily was Sam's longtime girlfriend and to say that their relationship was 'tumultuous' was putting it lightly. We never knew, on any given day, if they would be unable to keep their hands off each other, or barely be on speaking terms. They both worked under Alice in the event planning department of the hotel.
"Everything looks amazing, Ali," I told her as she walked up beside me to survey the room. "You were right about those centerpieces."
"Of course I was," she said dismissively with a giggle. "Even though she's been a bit of a Bridezilla, there's no way Miss Lambright can be anything but thrilled with all of this. Jackson just finished up with the grooms photos and then he's gonna come and snap some in here before all the guests are seated. This will look amazing on the website."
I nodded. Luxe offered a wedding package that included catering, decor, and photography. Jackson was our very talented on-staff photographer. A few people had even tried to lure him away from us, but he remained loyal.
"I'm going to head upstairs, then. Call me if anything comes up, okay?" I requested of Alice.
"There won't be anything Jake and I can't handle, I'm sure. Go relax. I'll see you tomorrow." She shooed me away.
I decided to first go downstairs and make a quick stop at The Lab before going to my apartment. An outside company that Alice always used was handling the actual dinner with all its courses, but our in-house chef had made his famous chilled Asian pot stickers and miniature lettuce wraps for the wedding's pre-ceremony cocktail and hors d'oeuvre hour, which would be drawing to a close soon. I realized I hadn't eaten anything since breakfast, and now my stomach was growling; I wanted to see if there were any snacks left.
I weaved through the clusters of beautifully dressed women and suit-clad men mingling with each other on the main floor. Blowing a kiss to Seth behind the bar, I was just about to duck into the kitchen when I heard my name being called. I turned around, surprised to see Detective Whitlock striding towards me. He was wearing a tuxedo.
"Miss Swan, I thought that was you."
"Detective Whitlock, are you here for the wedding?" I asked with a smile.
"Yes, ma'am. Garrett, the groom, is a fellow member of our force."
"Well, you look very dashing in your tux."
He grinned.
"Thank you kindly. How are you, Miss Swan?"
"Please, call me Bella. And I'm doing well, thanks."
He gestured to my eye. "Looks like you're all healed up."
"Yes, for the most part. There's still a bit of discoloration and the scar, but nothing good makeup can't hide," I answered with a wink.
"Your hotel is really something else," he said, glancing around. "It's very inviting."
"Thank you so much, that's very sweet of you to say. I owe it all to Alice, she has a great talent for putting colors and designs together."
"Miss Brandon? From the hospital?" His eyebrows rose.
"Yes, she's not just my friend, she's also my event coordinator, assistant, designer, you name it. She wears a lot of hats."
"Um, Bella, I hope I'm not overstepping here, but I wanted to ask you. Ah, are Miss Brandon and your brother in a relationship? I mean, a romantic one?" he asked, his cheeks turning slightly pink.
I stared at him, shocked, for about three seconds, before throwing my head back and laughing outright.
"No, they definitely are not," I assured him. "Alice and Emmett are like brother and sister, they've never been anything else. Truthfully, they fight like cats and dogs sometimes."
"Ahh, I see. The way they acted at the hospital. . . they do seem to be very close, and I just wasn't sure. Um, do you happen to know, is Miss Brandon seeing anyone else? I mean, does she have a boyfriend?"
I couldn't help but smile over his fumbling words.
"Detective Whitlock-"
"Jasper, please."
"Jasper, are you interested in Alice?"
His ears turned bright pink at my query.
"I believe I might be. I mean, I would like to get to know her better. She sure is pretty," he said with a shy smile. It was so very cute to see this man, who was used to dealing with criminals, get all flustered over a woman.
"Well, what I can tell you is that no, she is not involved with anyone at the moment."
"And she's here today?"
"Yes, she is. She'll be scurrying around doing a million things at once and making sure everything is perfect. I'm actually surprised you haven't bumped into each other yet."
"I was running late, got held up at the station and barely just got here in time for the grooms photos."
"Ah, I see. Well, I'm sure your paths will cross soon. Later on, after the ceremony and dinner, she'll have some down time and be able to relax."
He grinned.
"Well then, perhaps I'll make a point of seeking her out."
His phone beeped and he pulled it out of his pocket, reading a text.
"Apparently the groomsmen are needed," he said with a smile.
"Don't forget to turn your ringer off for the ceremony. The bride would be pissed," I teased him, earning a bark of laughter.
"No ma'am, I won't," he said with a smile. "Thank you, Bella. You've made my day!"
And with that he was off, his long legs carrying him back to his duties. I smiled to myself before entering the kitchen.
"Riley, please tell me you have some of those hors d'oeuvres left," I begged as I made my way towards the slightly built man in the chef's apron who was chopping something quickly and efficiently on the board in front of him. He threw me a grin before reaching into one of his refrigerated drawers and pulling out a plate covered in plastic wrap. Through the clear film I could see three little lettuce wraps and three pot stickers, the latter drizzled with spicy peanut sauce. My mouth watered.
"Of course I saved you some; I had a feeling you'd forget to eat again."
"You're my most favorite person in the whole world right now, you know that?" I asked as I unwrapped the plate and popped a pot sticker in my mouth. The ginger, pork, and peanut flavor exploded on my tongue and I hummed in approval as I chewed.
"Don't ever leave me, Riley," I begged, now biting into the lettuce wrap that was stuffed with a mixture of shrimp, sticky rice, and cilantro as well as Riley's secret spice mixture. Whatever the secret was, it was heavenly.
"You only love me for my hors d'oeuvres," Riley said with an exaggerated pout.
"Not true! I also love you for those sinful little chocolate lava cakes!"
I demolished the plate of snacks while I chatted with Riley and, after assuring him that I loved him for far too many things to count, I left him to his kitchen business. The crowd had dispersed by the time I made it to the elevator and I knew they were all being seated in anticipation of the wedding ceremony. I headed upstairs.
*EotN
I felt a sense of satisfaction and contentment move through me when I entered my apartment. The comfort and familiarity always soothed me every time I entered, no matter what kind of day I'd been having. Looking at it now, no one would ever be able to tell that a violent attack had happened; the cleaning team Emmett sent had been amazing, and everything looked exactly the same as it always had.
I'd worked hard in the three years since Luxe had opened to make the penthouse my own, make it a home. My family home, - the waterfront mansion where Emmett and I'd grown up, which had since been sold - always felt so cold to me, even as a child. Beautifully decorated, but more like a museum, filled with fine art and expensive furniture.
I wanted the opposite for my own place. I wanted warmth, so I chose shades of caramel and ivory and buttery yellow. I added splashes of color with whimsical artwork, throw pillows, and bright rugs. This was the one project that I hadn't sought out Alice's opinion. She'd helped with a few of the smaller details, but I'd been thinking a long time about what I wanted and I loved designing it all.
The main living area was an open floor plan, a big rectangle really. My kitchen was on one side, with its sleek stainless steel appliances, ivory painted cabinets, and moss green granite counter tops. On the other side lay a large living room filled with comfortable, overstuffed couches, a low coffee table, and plush velvet ottoman, all grouped around a fireplace with a flat screen television above. Two hallways branched from the main room. One opened off the living room to the right and led to the laundry room and guest bedroom and bathroom. The other was to the left, between the foyer and kitchen, and it was the path to my private rooms.
The far wall, opposite the foyer, held a wide bank of floor to ceiling windows and in the middle of them was a set of French doors that opened to the rooftop terrace. Out there, a big grouping of comfortable outdoor furniture was arranged around a stone fire pit with various potted plants and trees, all of it set under an elaborate cedar pergola. A large decoratively carved screen partly enclosed the near right corner of the terrace, behind which lay my guilty pleasure; the big sunken hot tub set into a wide deck made of stone and teak, with two plush loungers nearby.
A four and a half foot stone wall ran the perimeter of the whole terrace, making everything feel nice and private unless you strolled to the edge to look over downtown. When everyone was over – Alice, Emmett, Jake, Seth, mostly – we would sit out there a lot and just relax. It was my escape, my sanctuary, a great place to think. I spent many hours alone as well; reading, doing yoga, soaking in the hot tub, or just gazing into the flames of the fire pit.
Ginger and Maryann heard the alarm beep when I entered and came running. They twined around my legs as I re-locked my door – newly installed with a double steel deadbolt and touchscreen peephole - and shrugged off my jacket.
"Hello, my beauties."
I leaned down and stroked them both, earning gravelly purrs and growls. They followed me as I turned down the hallway to the left. I was eager to wash the day away with a nice, hot shower. Even though it wasn't quite seven o'clock, I looked forward to getting comfy in some pajamas and just chilling.
My bedroom was spacious, with the same bank of tall windows that the main room had, minus the French doors. Warm caramels and different shades of blue were the colors of choice in there, and all of my furniture was antique white. A king-sized canopy bed dominated the room, with tall posts on each corner that held up wooden beams crossing in an X overhead. The padded leather headboard rested against the wall, and a sumptuous butterscotch duvet contrasted prettily with baby blue pillows.
I paid a fortune for that sinfully decadent bed and pillow-topped mattress, and it was worth every single penny. It sat opposite the bank of windows, affording a great view of downtown Tampa. I'd invested in remote controlled black-out blinds, simply because as much as I loved the view, all those windows allowed the lights of the city to brighten my room too much when I was trying to sleep, not to mention when the sun rose and set. To the right of the bed, the wall held tall bookcases, a flat screen TV, and a fireplace with a comfy chaise in front. To the left was my walk-through closet with master bathroom on the other side.
It was there that I headed.
I turned the water on in the glass and stone shower enclosure and stripped my clothes off as it heated up. After grabbing a towel from the stack in the cabinet, I stepped inside the shower and let out a groan at how good the hot water felt. I'd been rushing around all day, working with Alice on all the wedding arrangements and also dealing with the hotel's day to day business. I hadn't realized I'd been holding so much tension in my shoulders until the water hit and I felt them relax.
I squeezed some face cleanser into my hands and gently washed off my makeup, being careful around my cheek and eye area because it was still tender. There was just a slight bruise there, and now that the stitches were out only a thin line of shiny pink remained, one that was easily camouflaged with makeup, like I'd told Jasper.
Thinking of Jasper led to thoughts of Edward.
I'd spoken to him on the phone twice over the last few weeks. Our conversations weren't long; both times he called just to clarify something in the statement I'd given. They were still no closer to finding out who helped James access my floor via the elevator, the security footage 'mysteriously' blank. But, as short as the conversations were, I couldn't deny that his voice just did things to me. Thrilling, heated, pulsing things. Which shocked the hell out of me when it happened, considering the events that had led to our acquaintance. But I couldn't deny it, didn't even bother to try. He was an enigma to me.
The night after my meeting with him in the park, Edward entered my dreams.
It was just impressions, really, that first time. His green eyes, the sound of his voice, his smile. I'd woken with my heart pounding and his name echoing in my head. Each dream after that first one– and there had been quite a few – became more intense. My subconscious just delighted in tormenting me, because it urged him to do the most wicked things. There was no way his tongue could actually be as skillful in reality as it was in my dreams. He couldn't possibly make me beg and plead for mercy just by sucking on my nipples and whispering naughty things. I knew that. But, Dream Edward was a man of many talents.
It was certainly a welcome departure from the occasional nightmare I still had about James. They were lessening, though; none had bothered me in the last four nights. Dream Edward was a talisman of sorts, it appeared. He kept my demons away.
Thinking of last night's dream – the most erotic to date – caused a shiver to run through me, even though I was standing under a veritable downpour of steaming hot water. I closed my eyes as I massaged shampoo into my hair, wishing it were his strong hands on my scalp. His fingers were quite long, and they definitely had a starring role in our nocturnal encounters more often than not. As I rinsed the lather away, I remembered how Dream Edward had stroked me with those fingers. Sliding through my hair, pinching my nipples, slipping into the wet flesh between my thighs before delving deep inside me.
I absently slicked conditioner through my hair, then reached for the body wash, my mind still on all the naughty ways Dream Edward had coaxed pleasure from me. Spreading the creamy, peach-scented gel all over, I imagined my hands were his instead. They smoothed over my skin, cupped my breasts, squeezed my nipples firmly, encouraging the delicious ache to blossom in my core. They slipped lower, over my stomach, and lower still, gliding through the small triangle of trimmed hair above the cleft of my sex. I slid a finger between my swollen lower lips and stroked myself ever so softly, imagining it was Edward's tongue gently lapping at me, just like he had in my dream last night. I teased my pussy with light touches until it throbbed almost painfully in response, wanting to be filled and fucked.
A fantasy rose in my mind's eye of Edward kneeling in front of me, there in the shower. He spread the lips of my pussy wide with his thumbs, gazing at my exposed sex, before leaning forward to suckle my wet clit into his mouth.
My fingers moved more swiftly, rubbing and pressing, and my hips rolled rhythmically, unable to be still.
I swore I could feel his hot breath on me.
In the erotic fantasy I conjured, I saw him look up, those green eyes so carnal as he slid his tongue inside me, in and out and in again, fucking me with its length as he held my gaze. That image was all it took. I came swift and hard with a strangled cry, my head thumping back against the tiled wall as my legs weakened.
Hot damn.
It took me a few moments to pull myself together enough to complete my shower, but before too long I was snuggled in soft flannel sleep pants and a tank top, skin scented with my favorite peach lotion. My stomach growled as I was combing out my wet hair, reminding me that I'd only had breakfast and a little plate of hors d'oeuvres all day. And that big, sparkly, self-inflicted orgasm almost certainly contributed to my appetite as well; it takes a lot of energy to come that hard.
After throwing my hair up in a bun, I perused my kitchen. My housekeeper, Mrs. Mavis, came in three times a week and she had stocked my fridge yesterday. I found a container of her homemade chicken salad and made myself a sandwich, adding some bbq chips before taking my food and a can of hard cider out onto the terrace. I sank onto the padded bamboo loveseat in front of the firepit, propping my feet on the edge of the wide ceramic bowl. My girls jumped up beside me, making themselves comfortable on the soft cushions.
As I ate my sandwich, I wondered what Edward was doing at that same moment. Was he working? Did he live alone, or did he have a wife or a girlfriend? He didn't wear a wedding ring and hadn't mentioned being in a relationship, but aside from the meeting in the park our conversations had been fairly brief. No other man I'd encountered before had made such an impression on me, and I didn't know if it was because we had met under the circumstances we had, but I was more attracted to him than I'd ever been to anyone else. Ever.
And it wasn't just because he was so good-looking. I'd been with a fair amount of men in my life thus far; handsome, educated, ambitious men, a few of whom were really great in bed. But none of them held a candle to Edward Cullen. There was just something about him that drove me crazy. First and foremost was the way he studied me so intently with those green eyes, like he was trying to read my mind, to see what was in my soul. I felt like I could stare into those eyes forever.
The fact that he trusted me enough to share such a personal story about his family also endeared him to me. I'd seen very real emotions flash through his expression as he had recounted that sad and scary tale, and my heart still ached for what his mother, indeed all of them, had gone through. Edward Cullen intrigued me, and I feared that I was becoming slightly obsessed with him. My mind wandered to him constantly throughout the day. I'd even talked about him with Alice. She agreed that he was handsome, but apparently he wasn't 'her type'.
I smiled as I thought about Jasper and his intentions to seek her out.
I remained out on the terrace for a long while, just relaxing; stroking my cats and thinking about things. I switched on the fire pit even though October in Florida was hardly cold; I just liked to watch the flames. It relaxed me.
When I'd been interested in men in the past I was always pretty forthcoming; I hated the waiting and wondering game. If I wanted to talk to them, I'd call them. I liked men, and had a very healthy enjoyment of sex. I had asked guys out on dates before, but this situation had me questioning everything. If I did ask Edward to dinner or something – if he was, in fact, single- would he only say yes because he felt sympathy for me, because of what had happened to me? He didn't strike me as the type of person that would be dishonest, but again I really didn't know him that well. And apparently I wasn't as good a judge of character as I'd always believed, or I would have gotten a clue to James' true nature before all hell broke loose. I hated doubting my instincts, but now it was hard not to.
Ugh, I was starting to annoy myself.
Glancing at my watch, I saw it was almost ten o'clock. I stood and stretched, then stowed the blanket and switched off the fire pit. I gathered my plate and empty can and brought them inside, locking the French doors behind me with two hungry kitties following close at my heels.
I wandered through my apartment, switching off lights, tidying a few things up, and filling the girls' food and water bowls. They thanked me quite loudly. I was strangely restless, even after my intense orgasm and belly full of food. I considered turning the TV on, but the thought was unappealing to me. I didn't want loud; I wanted to relax.
I did have a recent Dean Koontz novel that I was about halfway through and really enjoying. With that thought in mind, I went looking for it. Reading a good book always relaxed me.
After fifteen minutes of fruitless searching, I realized it wasn't anywhere in my apartment. Thinking back, I remembered that I'd been reading it a few days prior when I'd eaten lunch in my office. I must have left it there.
I didn't bother getting changed. I probably wouldn't run into anyone, and my staff had certainly seen me in my jammies on more than one occasion. The hotel was my home, after all. I did throw on a hoodie, though, to try and camouflage the fact that I didn't have a bra on under my thin tank top. I mean, I wasn't carting around bouncing double Ds or anything, just barely C cups, but better to err on the side of caution.
I slipped on a pair of flip flops and rode the elevator downstairs. When the doors opened on the second floor, I could immediately hear music thumping from the wedding reception. My office was tucked around a corner in the opposite direction and it was there that I headed. I quickly punched the lock code into the keypad on my door and opened it, stepping inside and turning the light on. My office wasn't huge, but it was cozy and I liked it. There was a great view of the street in front of the hotel and Alice had decorated it for me in soothing shades of gray and green.
I spied the book on the little end table next to my comfy loveseat and went to retrieve it, happy at the thought of curling up in bed and getting engrossed in the suspense thriller.
"Bella?"
Letting out a loud screech as the unexpected voice startled the wits out of me, I spun around to find it's source.
Oh. My. God.
Edward looked absolutely sinful, leaning in the door frame. That unique hair was totally rumpled, cheeks flushed, his tuxedo jacket was hooked on one finger and flung over his shoulder, and his bow tie was undone and draped loosely around his neck. The top two buttons of his shirt were open and the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. My wide eyes immediately latched onto the tattoos I could see on his strong forearms. Until now he'd always had sleeves covering his arms and I'd had no clue all that ink was there.
My gaze traveled up to meet his.
"I'm sorry if I scared you," he offered, taking a step into the room. "I was just leaving and saw you heading this way. I wanted to say hello."
I swallowed hard, my heart still pounding but not entirely from fright.
"I saw Jasper earlier, but I didn't realize you were here with the wedding as well," I said slowly, trying to compose myself and not think about the fact that I'd came like a freight train after masturbating to a fantasy of this man going down on me in my shower mere hours ago.
Now was definitely not the time to think about that.
Still, I had no control over my nipples. They peaked tight and hard almost immediately, and I was ever so grateful I'd thrown on the hoodie.
"Yes, he mentioned that," Edward said. "Your eye looks really well. I knew there wouldn't be much of a scar."
My hand immediately rose to trace the thin line on my cheek.
"My doctor told me it would fade more over time, too. It really doesn't bother me that much," I said with a shrug. My feet brought me several steps closer to him, completely without my permission. "Did you have a good time at the wedding?"
"I did. Though, I feel like I'm getting too old to party all night long," he admitted with a smirk.
"Yes, you're quite ancient," I agreed with a straight face. "You must be pushing, what, thirty by now? Definitely one foot in the grave."
His eyebrows shot up and he let out a chuckle before stepping closer.
"Thirty-one, actually. As of this past June."
"Good genes," I murmured before I could stop myself. Then I immediately blushed. "Uh, I mean you look younger. Than that."
He took another step and my eyes were once more drawn to the ink on his skin. Noticing me looking at them, he smiled before tossing his jacket onto my desk and wordlessly holding out both arms.
From what I could see, his left one was covered down to almost his wrist in a sleeve of steampunk-inspired wheels, cogs, and gears, all designed to make it look like an amazingly realistic bionic arm, with copper tendons and rivet-studded bones. Done in shades of blacks and browns and rusts, it was very impressive and unlike anything I'd seen before.
His right arm was not as adorned, but still quite beautiful. There was a very detailed compass on the inside of his forearm, and curling around his elbow I saw part of a gorgeously colored and gracefully curved mermaid tail. It was all blue and green swirls with intricate scales, ending in a delicate, fanning fin. It disappeared up under his shirt and I tilted my head to gaze up at him, asking the question with my eyes.
He looked uncertain for a moment before he undid a few buttons and shrugged his arm out of the shirt so I could see the whole thing.
She was stunning. There was no real nakedness because the image depicted the mermaid looking back over her shoulder. Her arms were crossed in front of her, fingertips peeking around her ribcage. The blue-green tail faded into skin and her back was a long, elegant line. Clouds of wavy brown hair floated around her ethereal face, as though swirling in an underwater current. Her eyes were aquamarine and her smiling lips a deep pink. The tattoo covered his muscled outer bicep and traveled down past his elbow. It was absolutely gorgeous.
So was what I could see of his muscled chest, the firm, pale skin sparsely dusted with light brown hair.
"She's beautiful. Whoever did the work is really amazing," I said softly.
"Jasper's sister did all of them," he supplied, sliding his arm back in the sleeve and re-buttoning his shirt. "She's the best I've ever seen and the only one I trust with my skin."
In this close proximity, I could smell Edward. There was a woodsy-citrus scent that I assumed was his cologne, and something a little more musky. I had a feeling that was simply the smell of him. Essence of Edward. It was divine, and I had the craziest urge to just bury my face in his chest and gulp deep lungfuls of his scent. I took a tiny step back before my body gave into that temptation without any orders from my brain.
"I've always wanted to get a tattoo," I said softly. "I've just never really decided on anything. I want it to be meaningful, ya know? If I'm going to mark my body, carry it with me for the rest of my life, it has to have some meaning."
"I absolutely agree," Edward answered.
"So, why the bionic arm?" I asked, gesturing to the image on his skin. He crossed his arms and leaned back against my desk.
"Five years ago, before I made detective, Jasper and I were called to the scene of a robbery in progress. Things went south and one of the suspects had a knife. He sliced me pretty badly and broke my arm in two places before he was subdued. I ended up needing a fuckton of stitches and there's also a metal rod and some pins in there. The guys started calling me The Bionic Man," he said with a laugh and an eye roll.
"Anyway, it took forever to heal and I went through some really intense physical therapy. I regained about ninety percent of my mobility. Two years ago I decided on the tattoo. I wanted it as a reminder of how much it took to put me back together, how hard I worked to make it a functioning arm again. I've always loved anything steampunk-related and when Rosalie – that's Jasper's sister – showed me the design she came up with, it was just perfect. Plus, it covers the scars pretty well."
As I looked more closely at his forearm, I was able to discern some bumps and ridges of scar tissue, but he was right, it was barely noticeable.
"The compass?" I asked him, pointing to his other arm.
"To remind me to stay on the right path and trust my instincts."
"And her?" I nodded towards the mermaid.
"She-"
Just then his phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and put it to his ear.
"Cullen," he barked "Yes. . . . No, he retracted the statement. . . .Right. . . .Well, why can't you. . .Okay, okay. . . Now? . . Yes. . . yes, fine."
He ended the call with a growl.
"Seriously, it's what, almost eleven?" He rolled his eyes, then picked up his jacket from my desk. "I have to go."
"I guess in your line of work, the hours can be crazy."
"That's an understatement," he said with a sigh. "It was good to see you, Bella. Take care, okay?"
"You too, Edward."
I watched him disappear from my sight and let out a sigh. Lord, that man was gorgeous, there was no two ways about it.
Back in my apartment, I had just curled up in bed and opened the book to the last chapter I'd been reading when my phone beeped from my nightstand. I reached over and grabbed it, seeing a text message.
I'll tell you the mermaid story if you have coffee with me tomorrow – E
I felt a squeal bubble up in my throat, one that would have done any twelve year old girl proud. My fingers were slightly shaking as I replied.
Such an intriguing offer, how can I refuse?
Are you free around eleven?
I jumped up and ran into the kitchen where I knew I'd left my day planner on the bar. Quickly flipping through it, I was thrilled to see that I was indeed free at that time. I'd penciled in a possible pedicure, but coffee with Edward sounded infinitely more appealing.
I do believe I am
I'll come and get you
Ok
I laid back against the pillows and let out a deep breath. Holy shit. Was this a date?
So there you have it. Detective Cullen has sexy tattoos, Bella has sexy dreams, and now I want potstickers. She seems like she's settling back into her normal routine, yes? Hmmmm wonder what will happen on the coffee maybe-date?