For the one person waiting for this to update, here you go. The last chapter! Only a million years later.

Unbeta'd so the mistakes are mine!

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Yelm, Washington
December 26
4:22 pm

Edward and I follow Charlie inside, through the back door. I scan the area for the topless woman who was just in here, but she's gone.

"So." Charlie clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable. I feel a tiny bit bad, catching him off guard like this.

"Sur… prise," I say slowly, as Charlie eyes the stranger next to me. "This is Edward."

They shake hands. Edward says nice to meet you, sir. Charlie grumbles nice to meet you, too.

I take off my coat, draping it over one of the chairs at the kitchen table. Under a festive tablecloth, there's a Christmas centerpiece, full of candles and ribbons and fresh flowers.

I eye it.

It's definitely not Charlie's taste.

"Oh. Sorry. Make yourselves comfy," Charlie says, pointing toward the chairs. We sit down at the table, and he shuffles over to the fridge, pulling out three cans of Rainier. He hands out the beers, then clears his throat once again. "It's been a while, kid. Your hair is… different." He pauses. "What else is new?"

"Well, we just spent the last few days driving here from Colorado. It's been kind of a shit show along the way, but we made it. My flight got cancelled, and then I met—" I abruptly stop talking. I can't tell Charlie the truth, that Edward and I met a few days ago and I made the decision to ride with a complete stranger across the country. I could argue that it all worked out in the end, obviously, but the amount of shit I would get from my dad isn't really worth not being dead.

"What was I saying?" I ask, buying time.

"You mean when you were talking literally seconds ago?" Edward asks, fighting a smirk.

"Yeah, um. Right. I was saying I met…. Santa, at the airport."

"Huh," Charlie grunts in confusion.

"Obviously it was someone dressed up as Santa. But yeah. It was… cool," I finish lamely.

Edward laughs, a little too hard. And Charlie's interest dies. I can't blame him because his adult daughter is talking about meeting Santa. Even I know that's fucking weird.

"Well, I didn't realize you wanted to spend Christmas together," Charlie says sheepishly. "I would've… well I would've been more prepared."

"I just wanted it to be a surprise, but that's okay." I pause, realizing I've been neglecting a perfectly good beer, and take a few sips. "Speaking of surprises."

Charlie isn't dumb. Charlie knows what I'm getting at. Which is why his cheeks burn a deep, dark red.

"I'm here with a friend," he says, pulling on the back of his neck.

I give him a small, encouraging smile. "What's her name?"

Charlie's eyes travel from me, to above my head, and his entire face lights up. "Speak of the devil."

Edward and I turn around, and the topless woman is, thankfully, no longer topless. She's petite, wearing a large wool sweater and the exact same expression as Charlie—equal parts embarrassed and happy.

It'd be a super sweet moment if I hadn't seen her tits through the window five minutes ago.

Before I can reach out to shake her hand, she leans over and hugs me.

"I'm Janie. It's so nice to meet you, Bella," she says warmly.

"Nice to meet you, too." My words are muffled against her long, wavy hair. "Sorry we just showed up. We didn't—"

Janie pulls back, staring me in the eyes. "You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for. You're such an important part of Charlie's life, and I'd been hoping we'd get to meet. Kismet. That's all this really is."

I'm taken aback by how direct she is, and how young she might be, and the fact that she's still sort of hugging me.

Her gaze drifts toward Edward, and her face glows. "And who might this be?"

"I'm Edward," he says, offering a small wave. Janie steps around the table and ignores his wave, also giving him a warm hug.

"Charlie never mentioned you had a boyfriend," she says, playfully slapping at my dad's arm.

"Oh, um." I look to Edward for help, hoping he catches on that I don't want to tell them I took a chance on a stranger to get me home for Christmas.

"It's pretty new," Edward says, not bothering to correct Janie's use of the word boyfriend.

"Even though we've known each other for a long time," I add.

"Right," Edward says, playing along. "Our relationship might be new, but our friendship is not."

"We only recently realized that we… wanted to go on this… journey together."

"Exactly. It still feels like we just met the other day," he adds this time, and we both share a private laugh and a smile.

I like having a little secret with him.

"The best love is the kind that feels new," Janie offers.

"Definitely. I'm still learning new things about her every day," Edward offers, and I just laugh again.

Janie marvels at us. "You both have old souls. I'd love to do a palm reading on you two later."

"Oh." I look at Edward, unsure what to say. "Maybe."

"Well, it's wonderful to meet you both." Janie sighs, but it's content. "I don't mean to run, but I need to go to the store to grab produce for our small dinner party tonight. Please tell me you'll be joining?"

"We don't want to impose—"

"Don't be silly," Charlie interrupts. "You came all the way here, might as well stay the night and spend some time together."

"Perfect. Would you prefer chicken or beef?" Janie asks, looking at Edward and me.

"Whatever y'all are having," I reply.

"Oh, we don't eat meat," she explains. "Do either of you have any dietary restrictions?"

Charlie doesn't eat meat? The man who typically plans his year around hunting season, and only ate game for a significant amount of my childhood?

"We'll eat whatever you're making," I say. "We're not picky." I try really hard not to grimace as I say this. The thought of eating fake meat really disturbs me, but I'm trying here.

My compliance must shine through, because Janie nods and disappears, but not before squeezing Charlie's hand. I'm happy for my dad, I really am. I'm just insanely confused about what's going on.

7:48 p.m.

"I think something's wrong with my dad," I tell Edward.

He laughs, swigging his beer. We're standing in the corner of the cabin, huddled together near a bowl of peanut M&M's and the fire. Because apparently a 'small dinner party' meant everyone who lives in a ten mile radius of the cabin and their extended family who're in town for the holiday.

Don't get me wrong, I love a good party. I just didn't think Charlie did.

Edward gives me a look. "Granted, I don't really know your dad, but he seems fine to me."

"But he's socializing! He has a girlfriend! There's popcorn on the tree, poinsettias everywhere, and garland strung by the chimney with care!"

"What's so wrong with that?" Edward asks, shrugging.

"Nothing is wrong with it. It's just not… Charlie."

"People change, I guess. I mean, look at you. When we met a few days ago you were a total Scrooge."

"I wasn't a Scrooge." I scowl, which I realize doesn't exactly help my argument that I'm a cheerful person.

"You weren't exactly… friendly."

"So, you're saying I was a bitch."

He rolls his eyes. "No."

"Uh huh."

"I don't think you're a bitch," he promises. "I think you're cute. And attractive. And funny. And real."

"You're doing wonders for my ego. Go on."

He laughs. "I like you. And it seems like your dad likes Janie. So, you should be happy for him."

"I am," I say reluctantly. Really, I am. I guess I shouldn't be so shocked by this change when we haven't been great at keeping in touch. But I make a promise to myself to change that.

"When you mentioned all of the decorations, you forgot one," Edward points out, a sparkle in his eyes.

"What's that?"

"There's mistletoe, too."

"I haven't seen any mistletoe dangling anywhere," I counter. Edward grins and holds something up above our heads. "That's not mistletoe," I laugh. "It's holly."

"Indulge me," he murmurs with a smirk.

"Hmm. Fake mistletoe for your fake girlfriend," I muse, stalling.

"Doesn't have to be fake," he murmurs sweetly.

"I guess I can't turn down a kiss," I reply evenly, despite the beating in my chest.

He stares down at me, expression soft and amused. "No, you can't," he agrees. "Even if it's not real mistletoe, turning down a kiss under it is bad luck."

"Seven years of bad kisses, right?"

"Something like that."

"Or is it seven years of bad sex? No, I think that's if you don't lock eyes with someone as you're—"

"Bella?" he asks impatiently, still holding the holly above us.

"Yeah?"

"Can I kiss you yet?"

I stare up at him, smiling softly as I step closer so our bodies are flush together. And then I tilt my chin up just a bit and close my eyes to press my mouth to his. It's tender. Sweet. He cups my cheek and kisses me back just as softly. It's not the full-blown make out I'm after, but we're also standing in the middle of a party, so I'll take what I can get.

"Definitely don't have any bad kisses in our future," he murmurs against my lips.

"My thoughts exactly."

10:45 pm

After the party ends and it's just the four of us again, Charlie suggests we walk closer to the river and build a fire. I offer to help him gather firewood, while Edward and Janie drag chairs down to the fire pit.

"So, Janie seems nice," I say conversationally as we walk toward the side of the garage.

"She is nice."

"But also really different from… you." And from my mother, but that goes without saying.

Charlie pulls the tarp off the firewood and examines it for a second. "I told Billy to stop stacking the wood like this so it'd get better air circulation. Old fool never listens."

He starts grabbing pieces of wood and I hold out my arms so he can stack them. After a few beats of silence, he says, "You know that old saying? Insanity is the definition of doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results?"

"You're quoting Einstein?"

"I needed someone different. Janie's good for me."

"You don't eat meat anymore."

"Cholesterol got bad."

"Oh."

He stacks a few more pieces of wood onto my arms and they cover my face.

"I think that's enough!" I call out, and he finally focuses on me, laughing.

"Got carried away." He takes a few from the top of the pile so I can see again.

We walk in silence toward the river.

"I'm sorry we don't talk more," he says out of nowhere.

"It's not all on you."

"I know. But still. I should keep you in the loop."

"And I should visit more often," I offer. "But like… tell you ahead of time. No more surprises."

"I'd like that, kiddo," he says, then ruffles my hair with his free hand.

As the night goes on, we sit around the fire, bundled up, laughing and sharing stories. Janie tells us how she and my father met, at the Farmer's Market. She explains that she sells crystals, and how she eventually convinced my father about their healing powers. It's crazy to hear, because normally Charlie would call bullshit on things like that. But I guess Edward's right. People can change.

"So, what do you do, Edward?" Charlie casually asks.

"I'm a woodworker."

"How fascinating," Janie says.

"Yeah, I work in a friend's shop. Been there for a few years now."

"What do you make?"

"Furniture."

"You do?" I butt in, realizing this should probably be something I already know about him. "I mean, you do. He does."

Edward chuckles at my save, then swigs his beer. "There's this brewery in Denver that's about to pick up some of our pieces, which is an insane deal for us. We're really excited."

"That's amazing," I murmur. "I'd love to come by and check some stuff out when we get back."

He grins at me. "I'd like that."

When it's way too late, and many beers have been consumed, Charlie puts out the fire and we head inside. Janie shows me where the extra sheets are in the linen closet, and I grab the set that looks the cleanest.

I walk down the hall to the guest bedroom expecting to find Edward waiting in there for me. But he's not. Instead, he's lingering awkwardly in the living room.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

"Wasn't sure where I was sleeping," he says.

"Oh." I figured he'd be sleeping with me. "Well… there's the sad-looking couch that sinks in the middle."

He smirks. "Don't most people offer to sleep on the couch when they have a guest over? Like I did with you at my parents' house?"

"Right. But I know what that couch has endured over the years, and you don't. So for my mental health it's better if I take the bed."

"That's reassuring," he says flatly.

"Honestly, you'd be better off on the floor." I pause. "Or whatever, you can just sleep in the bed with me."

"That's a hard no."

"We slept in the same bed at the hotel. What's the difference?"

"There weren't guns mounted on the wall at the hotel."

"Charlie doesn't care."

"I beg to differ."

"The guns aren't even loaded," I assure him.

"Comforting," he says flatly.

"Just sleep in the bed with me. It's not like anything is gonna happen."

Edward's gaze stays on my face, and I have to look away. It's not like I haven't thought about things happening. I have. Especially when we were kissing outside earlier. And under the mistletoe. But things aren't gonna go down with my dad and Jane in the other room.

"It's decided. You're sleeping with me." I reach for his hand, and he doesn't put up a fight as I pull him down the hall.

"You know how you've been joking about me killing you since the day we met?" he asks.

"Yeah?"

"It'd be pretty ironic if I were the one to end up dead."

I laugh, but he doesn't, which only makes me laugh harder. "My dad isn't going to kill you for sleeping in the same bed as me. Besides, he thinks we're dating. Remember?"

Edward sighs heavily, but fights a smile as we walk into the room. I flip on the lamp and a moment later, Charlie peeks his head in to say goodnight. Edward avoids his eyes and his cheeks go a little red before Charlie shuts the bedroom door.

"See? He doesn't think it's weird that you're sleeping in here," I say, pleased. "Okay, now that we're alone—"

Edward quirks an eyebrow and smirks. "Go on."

I give him a look and toss the comforter on the floor so we can put on the sheets. "Wait. So, you're all weird about sleeping in here, but when you think I'm about to mention things, you're game?"

"I'm a guy, Bella. Of course I'm going to be game. If you told me you wanted to pull over on the side of the road and do things, I'd be down."

"Fair point. Unfortunately, that's not what I was going to say. I was going to ask if you think Janie's a witch."

He barks out a laugh and wraps a corner of the mattress with the sheet. "I'm gonna say no, but I have a feeling you think she is, so does it really matter what I say?"

"I follow this girl on Instagram who's into crystals and all the woo-woo stuff Janie is into. And that girl claims she's a witch," I muse. "I just wonder if Janie is into all that, too."

"'All that,' being witchcraft?" Edward clarifies.

"And Janie's so… calm," I add. "Didn't you feel like the whole night was eerily easy?"

"Now that I think about it, you were acting oddly normal," he says, and I throw a pillow at his face. "Ah, there's the Bella I know."

"Okay, so I use violence to express myself. What's the problem?"

"It's funny that you think throwing compacted feathers at someone is violent," he deadpans.

I sit on the bed. "Can we get back on topic please?"

"Witch topic?"

"Dude."

"What? Do I need to spell it out for you?"

I crack a smile, but shake my head. "Fine. I'll drop it. But that doesn't mean I'm not going to Google the shit out of her once we finally have service."

"I wouldn't expect any less from you."

We change for bed, and Edward purposely looks away when I strip down. I tease him about it, but secretly think it's kind of sweet.

When we're both under the comforter, I lean over to turn off the lamp.

I toss. And turn. I shove the lumpy pillow under my head and try to get comfortable.

"Stop moving," he laughs quietly.

"I'm not that tired," I say into the darkness.

Edward turns on his side to face me. "What do you wanna do?" It's an innocent question, but his voice is low and deep, and my mind goes there.

"Talk to me?"

"Okay." He scoots a little closer. "About what?"

"When we were under the fake mistletoe earlier and you said it doesn't have to be fake…"

"Yeah?"

"Were you talking about… us?"

His laugh is breathy and low. "I thought that was obvious."

"Kind of. But I didn't want to assume."

"Assume away. I like you a lot, Bella," he admits quietly. "I'm honestly kind of dreading going back to real life."

"Why?"

"It's been fun hanging out with you."

"We can hang out when we get back to Colorado. We live like, oddly close to each other."

"We do."

"I like you, too. And… maybe I don't want it to be fake, either."

"You don't?"

It's my turn to scoot closer this time. Electricity sparks between us, and I can't deny the attraction I feel between us. I can't believe I tried to fight it so hard in the beginning. I mean, I can, I guess. That's how I am. But letting my guard down with him feels so much better than keeping him at arm's length.

"Can I kiss you?" he whispers.

I answer him by leaning in until my nose is brushing his. Our breath mingles, and he doesn't move, so I'm the one who kisses him first. Our mouths meet and our lips stay pressed together for a beat. And then he kisses me back. Harder. Deliberately. I moan a little, and his hand finds my hip, pulling me so my waist is flush with his.

I get lost in his kiss, thinking of all the things we can do when we get back to Colorado. He must be thinking of the same things, too, because I can feel him grow hard between us.

My heart races and my stomach flutters. When his mouth opens and his tongue brushes mine, I deepen the kiss only for him to pull back.

"Sorry. Bad idea," he breathes out.

"What?" I pout, kissing him again. "Why?"

"Guns, remember?"

"You're not gonna let that go, are you?"

"Not a chance. This is self-preservation. Really."

I sigh, rolling onto my back. "Fair enough."

"But once we're alone again…" he prompts, voice laced with lust. "Yeah."

"I'm holding you to that."

"Trust me. It's gonna happen." His hand trails from my hip to my ass, cupping it. I laugh into his mouth. "Sorry. Okay. I couldn't help myself." He clears his throat. "Speaking of being alone, what's the plan for getting back to Colorado?"

"Well, you'll have to drive. Since you have your car."

"Right. And I guess you could fly back, if you wanted. Since you probably have a return flight."

"I do. I'd be flying back to Denver tomorrow, actually."

"But, you could always drive back with me," he offers, watching my face. "If you wanted."

"You're willing to embark on yet another road trip with my crazy ass?" I ask, unable to contain my smile.

"I definitely want more time with your crazy ass," he murmurs, shifting even closer. "So, yes."

"Okay. I'll drive back with you." I press a sweet kiss to his mouth. "I did want to ask you something, though."

He raises his brows. "No, you can't drive."

"Rude. But that's not it."

"No, we're not listening to the Kid Rock CD I bought you. It was an ironic purchase. Not something I want you to actually use."

I laugh. "Shut up. That's not it, either."

"Then what?"

With a soft, hopeful smile I ask, "What are you doing New Year's Eve?"