Thank you to Anita Simons, magicbustrip, chellekathrynnn, paninihead, and Love. Fiction. 2020 for your reviews! Love. Fiction. 2020 I hope you like it, you were the first person to ask! I was holding onto this one and got so excited when you mentioned her! She's on her way into the story, I promise. P.s. I've had to seperate your name because it deletes it otherwise.
Sorry this is so late, I had work and then huge issues with my mobile to sort out.
I'd just like to say, I don't agree with using your phone whilst driving, but Carlisle is a Cullen (and they all did it) and it was 2005.
Chapter 3
Carlisle waited by the door for Carys to find and utilise a tall glass for her flowers before they left and thankfully didn't comment on the fact she didn't own a vase as he looked around her small lounge with interest.
Before she knew it, Carlisle was holding her door for her as she slid into the passenger's seat and they were heading off. She was surprised when, after navigating the small town at a normal pace, Carlisle turned onto the highway with a little more speed than she'd anticipated.
When she commented on it, he slowed down a little.
"You should see the way my children drive when there's no one around to stop them," he explained with a hesitant smile. From his expression alone, Carys thought he might have been blushing, though there was no change to his colouring. "Would you like me to slow down a bit more?"
"No, it's okay for now," Carys assured him. "Though your children're beginning to sound a lot less well behaved than you like to describe them," she laughed nervously, trying to ignore the speedometer on the dashboard as it continued to rise past 75 miles-per-hour. "Didn't you say Emmett destroyed your kitchen a few months ago?"
Carlisle flicked her a glance when she reminded him and barely hid a smirk before he answered. "He cleaned it up..."
"Cleaning up your mess doesn't make you well behaved Carlisle," Carys joked, trying to ease the anxiety which had grown throughout the afternoon and was spiking a little now that they were travelling at 85 miles per hour. "Erm..." She added, giving up all pretence and staring openly at the dial as she gripped her seatbelt. "Are you sure you want to-," she started, changing her mind when the dial continued to rise. "Do you have a death wish?" She asked faintly, tightening her hold.
When Carlisle turned to look at her, Carys jabbed her finger in the direction of the windscreen and stared at him in wide-eyed horror. "Eyes on the road!"
"Oh," he replied lamely as he turned back, his frown turning into a grimace as he eased off the accelerator. He shot her another glance when he'd slowed back down to 75, and seemed to accept her choice to turn and stare out of the passenger's window as acquiescence rather than embarrassment. "Sorry."
"No... It's okay, I'm just... I'm sorry too," Carys told him, before whispering to herself too quietly for him to hear, "just didn't really fancy dying on the road to Port Angeles..."
They lapsed into silence, Carys occasionally glancing in his direction and opening her mouth to speak before thinking better of it. She fiddled with her bag, desperately trying to think of something to say that would turn the conversation back to a point before she'd raised her voice at him.
The one chance I get, and I ruin everything, she thought to herself bitterly as she spared him another glance. He didn't look particularly put out as he concentrated on his driving, but Carys thought his silence and the fact he'd not wavered from his allotted speed spoke volumes.
It wasn't until his cell phone started ringing incessantly as they approached Port Angeles around 30 minutes later that she found a way to break the tension she felt in the car.
"You should answer," Carys told Carlisle quietly when he briefly met her eye in the rearview mirror after the fourth call went unanswered. "It sounds important."
Carlisle nodded and briefly smiled at her as pulled his phone from his pocket.
"CARYS SAID YE-!"
Carlisle grimaced when the loud feminine voice filled the car and pulled swiftly to the side of the road. He swapped hands quickly, turning his head so that he could speak to the woman on the other end of the call without Carys hearing anything more implicating.
He needn't have bothered. She could imagine exactly what he was saying, and couldn't help the small grin that lit her face in the knowledge that he could be embarrassed as well. She owed whoever he was speaking to a debt of gratitude - not just for that, but for the warmth that spread through her when she realised Carlisle must have told at least one person about their date. It was strange that two and a half words could put a little confidence back into her, but it had.
When he ended the call a few seconds later, Carlisle turned to her with a look that asked you didn't hear that, did you?
Carys patted him gently on his hard shoulder and pressed her lips together in a mockery of a sympathetic look, laughing when he grimaced again and slid his phone safely back into his trouser pocket.
"That was Esme," he explained a few seconds later as he pulled out onto the road again, "Edward's older sister."
"Edward has a sister?" Carys asked him, grasping her chance to restart their conversation. Had she forgotten? Or had she managed to go an entire year without asking? She wasn't sure which one would be worse.
"She goes to Cornell," Carlisle informed her with a fond smile, "she's studying a post-grad in Finance and Real Estate. She'll be coming back in a few weeks to visit, you might meet her then."
"Wow..." Carys breathed, wondering to herself whether everyone in his family was as gifted as he was - it certainly seemed that way. She tried to do the maths in her head and gave up around the point of realising Esme must have been too young to take care of Edward when their parents died.
As Carlisle seemed not to want to add more, and she had no intention of spending the rest of the evening in silence, she gathered her newly restored confidence a few moments later and blurted, "I'm sorry again - for before."
"Before?" Carlisle asked, a genuine look of surprise flashing across his face in the dim light.
"When I told you to keep your eyes on the road?" Carys clarified slowly, turning in her seat to face him. "And then we didn't speak for half an hour?"
He spared her a glance before he returned his gaze to the road ahead and reached across to take one of her gloved hands in his. He threaded their fingers together, drawing a small gasp of delight from Carys when he brought the back of her hand to his lips and placed a light kiss to it.
"I was-" he punctuated his words with another kiss, "-enjoying your company-" and another, "-and you were worried-" he kissed her hand one last time before returning her hand to her lap and reaching for the gearstick, "-I'm the one who should be sorry, my darling."
Carys wanted desperately to tell him that he had absolutely nothing to be sorry for, but by the time she was able to think again let alone bring enough air into her lungs to reply, he was pulling into the front of a small restaurant.
The affectionate smile he gave her as he gently tucked an errant curl back behind her ear did more to add colour to her cheeks than the blusher she'd applied earlier that evening. She was almost glad she had little control over her thoughts at that moment because she was almost certain her answering grin must look demented.
It was a kiss on the hand! She argued with herself quickly as he got out of the car. And it was muted because of the gloves! Get. It. Together.
She opened her side and grinned again as Carlisle appeared, holding out a steadying hand. It helped that Carlisle seemed to be as happy as she was, watching her with a smile of varying degrees as their coats were taken and they were shown to their table. Even when their waiter Stephen introduced himself and returned for their drinks order a few minutes later, Carlisle seemed to find it difficult to take his eyes from Carys.
It made her wonder what had changed, how he could suddenly go from thinking of her as a friend to looking at her as if the sun rose and set with her.
Not that she was complaining. Far from it.
She'd dreamt of this so often over the past seven months and more that she was amazed it seemed to be going so well - save for the crossed signals on the drive over, of course.
Carys was pulled from her inner musing when Carlisle ordered a bottle of wine and Stephen immediately asked for ID. Surprised yet again at the age policy in America, she dug around in her bag and retrieved her driver's licence just as Carlisle gave his up for inspection.
"I was only really asking for the lady's," Stephen told him, looking between Carlisle and his ID several times before lifting his eyebrows. "Okay, let's pretend that's real," he said eventually, with a last disbelieving glance in Carlisle's direction.
Carys bit her lip to stop herself from laughing out loud and widened her eyes at Carlisle, who smirked lightly when she caught his eye. She held her own driver's license up for inspection, and Stephen took it from her, surprising her a moment later when he looked down at her with a raised eyebrow and questioned her surname.
"I go by Vale," she informed him dryly, not sure why she was having to justify her name. She didn't think it was that unusual.
"I can see why..." Stephen continued to stare at her driver's licence, then flicked her a glance as if daring her to comment on his judgement.
Carys wasn't sure what she was supposed to say to that, so settled for a nod. She could feel Carlisle's gaze and avoided meeting his eye for as long as she could, mumbling vague thanks to Stephen when he finally returned her licence and headed off to collect their wine.
"I'm not sure which reaction was worse," Carlisle joked, his forehead creasing as they turned to watch Stephen's progress. "I'm sorry," he added a moment later, "I was promised this was a good place to take you by a usually reliable source."
Carys bit her lip again and sighed in mock resignation, sliding her licence across for him to inspect her full name as she held her other hand out for his apparently dubious ID. He did look young for his age, but she supposed he looked more so that evening with the top button of his shirt undone and the sleeves of his jumper rolled partway up his forearms. At times like that, she could easily think he was around her age if she didn't know better.
"Carys Ivy Thornton-Vale?"
"It's your birthday on Thursday!?"
They spoke in unison, Carys staring at Carlisle in shock even as his brow furrowed a little for a moment and then cleared. He returned her ID and took his own back, sliding it into his wallet as he stared at her with a studiously bland expression on his face.
"You agreed to go on a date with me on your birthday?" She added when he didn't respond.
After two full minutes of staring, he finally spoke. "Well, I had the chance to spend it with you - why wouldn't I take it?" He asked in a tone that had Carys pulling the sleeves of her cardigan over her hands as she covered her mouth.
She knew her reaction was from the giddiness she felt in being on a date with him, but she was still grinning happily at him when Stephen returned with their wine, leaving Carlisle to taste it and give his approval. She was surprised he could taste anything given how little seemed to pass his lips, but he accepted the bottle for the table, informing her seriously that it was definitely not corked.
"Carlisle..." She began with a bright but nervous smile on her face once Stephen had moved on, "I know this might be a really stupid thing to ask, but what made you ask me out?"
Carlisle reached across the table and took her hand in his much colder and harder one.
"It's not stupid." He paused for a few moments, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles as he looked at her carefully. "I asked you because I should have done so 15 months ago."
If Carys was oblivious to the world the next morning, it was for one reason, and one reason alone.
Even as she made her way to the reception desk to replace a stack of papers, having arrived at work early purely because she'd found herself at a loss of things to do which could expend her energy, she couldn't stop replaying the evening in her mind.
She made a mental note to thank Carlisle again for not complaining that she kept him talking until his food was nearly cold. She'd been so engrossed with a story he'd been telling from a book about a doctor in the early 1900s that she'd almost forgotten her own meal until he'd commented.
At least she'd still enjoyed her beef wellington. He'd, unfortunately, not appeared to like his luke-warm steak half as much.
She clutched the papers closer to her chest and sighed happily, remembering the chocolate soufflés they'd had for dessert, and how she'd returned the favour by taking over the conversation so that he could eat his whilst it was still hot.
It wasn't the most swoon-worthy of things, but at least it stopped her from thinking about how he'd kissed her hand again when he dropped her home at one-thirty. That was soon going to border on ridiculous if she didn't stop obsessing about it soon.
Carys was pulled straight out of her reverie when Sarah came barrelling around a corner towards her, looking far more frazzled than she had ten minutes before.
"What's happened?" Carys asked quietly, all her excitement dropping in a second as she registered the worried and stressed look on her friend's face.
"Tyler Crowley lost control of his car on the ice and nearly hit Bella Swan-" Sarah told her in a rush, nodding as Carys gasped in horror, "-but Dr Cullen's kid knocked her out the way-yes," she cut across the horrified sound Carys emitted, "he's fine as well. He's better than she is actually. They're only here because she hit her head when he tackled her, at least that's what half the school's saying." She indicated the way she'd come as she lifted her eyebrows in response to Carys' wide-eyed stare. "Crowley's in worse shape than either of them - his car crashed straight into her truck. It's a miracle they all made it out the way they did, one of the EMTs told me it looks like the Crowley boy's car's a write-off."
"Holy..." Carys trailed off, not sure which swear word could put the right emphasis on something like that. She could understand all too well how lucky everyone involved had been. She felt her heart begin to race and she tried to control it, pushing down the memories and rubbing at her arm to try and soothe the phantom pain.
They're fine. They're fine. They're fine.
Sarah nodded. "Dr Cullen's checking on Bella and Edward so I'm going to go check on Crowley. Couldn't take another minute of that racket." She fiddled with the pen in her top pocket, staring at the end of the hallway for a moment before she set off. "Still. Like father, like son, eh?"
Carys thought she might have nodded, but by the time she'd got her bearings Sarah was long gone. She took a deep breath and turned back towards the reception, starting as she nearly crashed head-on into Rosalie Hale. She hadn't heard her approach, but that wasn't all too surprising.
The fact she'd been standing so close to her when she'd turned was.
"Sorry," Carys muttered, stepping to the side.
Rosalie stared at her for a second or two, and Carys wondered again if Carlisle's children hadn't inherited different things from him. Rosalie seemed to like a good stare as much as he did, and now that she was close enough to properly look, they had the same eyes. She'd understood when she'd noticed Edward's eyes, they were related, but-
"What happened to your arm?" Rosalie demanded with a raised eyebrow.
Carys looked down and dropped her unoccupied hand to her side. She hadn't realised she was still rubbing it. "Ah. Nothing, just-"
"Alright, have you seen Carlisle?" Rosalie cut across impatiently, crossing her arms at her chest.
Carys blinked at the sudden change of subject and smiled lightly as she registered the last of her mild panic had been surprised out of her. She thought Rosalie looked a little bit smug, but all trace of the look was gone in an instant.
She pointed back towards the emergency department, and Rosalie stormed off in that direction with her back ramrod straight.
She couldn't be sure, but she wondered if Carlisle or Edward had done something wrong, because the way Rosalie walked threw Carys right back to the first day she'd met her.
Though, of course, saving someone's life could hardly be something to get angry about.
Could it?
Carys fiddled with her earring, flicking the pearl against her skin.
She thought to ask Carlisle about it next time they were alone, but as they began to explore their new relationship over the next two weeks she found herself filing it away alongside a number of things she'd noticed and passively or actively explained away to herself or tried to ignore.
In those first couple of weeks of dating, Carys was both blissfully happy and slightly on edge. There was something wrong, but the last thing she wanted was to address it...
A/N: I love him, but I made the poor man eat the equivalent of a hot dirt pie for dessert, and I'm definitely evil for it.
Me: Just tell her already!
Also me: not this chapter.
