So it's fair to say most of you are hating Jane, desperate to properly meet EC, and hoping that Bella will kick her job at Vaughn's to the curb
to go work at Burger Co. I happen to agree with all three points, so here we go. Next update won't be until Thursday.
After that, I plan to stick to a Sunday and Thursday update schedule so I don't run out of pre-written chapters too fast. Right now, I have fourteen,
most of which just need editing.
Speaking of editing...please excuse any and all errors here. I often tinker a fair bit after my wonderful team look things over.
Here's EC (I sort of flove him, and yes I know it's bad form to say that about my own characters)
Chapter Five
Edward
"Fuckin' buffoons," I mutter, fishing my light from my pocket and pushing through the fire door. A wall of dry heat slams into me full-force; a sharp squeak as the door slams shut tells me I'm not as alone as I hoped I'd be. Cursing, I fumble with my phone to find the flashlight. We occasionally get homeless people trying to bed down out here at night and I'm really not in the mood for putting my friendly face on tonight. When I finally find the right button and illuminate the alley, I can't believe my eyes.
"Bella? What the hell are you doing out here at...shit, is that the time?"
Her smile is rueful as she shields her eyes, murmuring her thanks when I lower my cell and quit blinding her. "I'm on the late shift, so I have the unenviable task of taking out the trash and locking up the store."
Well, that's not fuckin' right. "It's almost one in the morning. You shouldn't be here on your own."
With a petulant huff, she tosses the trash bag in her hand into the bin, then wanders over to lean against the wall a few feet away. In the muted light of the moon, her gray eyes are especially striking. If it weren't for the darkness-dulled magenta of her hair and the swath of red painted over her scowl, it would feel like we were in a black and white movie.
"You sound like Dad," Bella finally admits, picking at her nails as I light up.
My eyes slide closed, a groan escaping because fuck, I needed this smoke. It's been too long. I mean, it's been a few hours, but hell—those yahoos inside drive me crazy sometimes. Tonight being one of those times.
"If he said the same as me, he's right."
"Yeah, yeah. I get it. I'm the innocent little girl who needs protecting from the big, bad wolf. I've heard it at least a thousand times since I've been home. You can spare me the lecture."
My brows furrow and I'm shaking my head before I can stop myself. "I didn't say that." I may be eleven years her senior and the man whose pool she once admitted to peeing in, but I'm still a man with eyes in my head. The only thing she got right was the 'little' part; she's a short little shit, barely five feet tall if I had to guess. Compared to my six-four, she's basically a dwarf. Everything else, though...
The blouse-shirt thing she's wearing struggles to contain her breasts and her blue jeans hug her wide hips. Don't even get me started on what they do for her ass—and there I go again. Objectifying my best friend's not-so-babyish baby girl. Goddammit.
"Can I have one?"
Blinking hard, I refocus—on her face, this time. "You smoke?"
She shrugs, accepting the pack I hesitantly extend toward her. "Sometimes. Not at home, obviously."
Right, I nod. Because of her kids. I still can't believe she has sons, plural. I mean, I knew about them, of course. Their children and grandchildren are just about all Charlie and Renee talk about, but it's still a mindfuck to hear Bella talk about them. I swear it was only yesterday she was running around in floaties and a princess crown. Now she's a mom to three boys. Like I said—mindfuck.
"So...rough night? You look harassed."
I won't admit that I was hoping for solitude out here. That'd just make things uncomfortable. Instead, I stare at the stars as I exhale, smoke curling up into the sky. "Busy night," I correct, chancing a glance at her between inhales. "We had a server call in sick and my chef's wife went into labor."
Bella's eyes light up. "Tanya's having the baby? That's great!"
"You know Tan?" I frown, rubbing my beard. It's in need of a trim, to be honest.
"Sure. She goes to Mom's crochet club. I met her last week when it was Mom's turn to host. Tanya said she was 'ready to not be pregnant,' so I bet she's pleased it's almost over."
I've heard that, too. My head chef, Garrett—who is also Tanya's husband—has been careful not to talk about the upcoming baby all that much, but I overhear conversations when the guys think I'm not listening. Tanya has been struggling for weeks now, so I'd wager that Bella is right and Tanya's ready to have that baby. Wistfulness spreads through my veins, but I cut that shit off at the source before it can take hold. I've been a melancholy fucker the last few days. It's annoying even me at this point. There's no point letting myself fall any further down that hole.
"How's things, anyway? I haven't seen you at brunch."
Eyeing her, I almost smile. She's just as chatty as she was as a kid. There are no prolonged silences with her. She never used to shut up; it's oddly nice to see that some things don't change. "My brother, Jasper, was in town last week with his wife and my nephew. He doesn't get a lot of downtime from work, so we took a trip into the city for the weekend. The Saturday before that, I was here working on the new menu."
"Ooh, a new menu, huh? I might have to come try out some stuff. What would you recommend?"
Thinking on it, I figure she'd enjoy the new veggie option. "The Kale Mary's pretty good."
I don't expect the sudden laughter she expels, but it makes me grin all the same. "Kale Mary? Like 'hail mary?'" Bella snorts, her eyes crinkled with her smile. "Okay, what else?"
"The Tennessee is a firm favorite with the guests—"
"What about with you? What's your favorite, Edward?"
The soft yet firm way she interrupts and says my name makes me pause. No one really calls me 'Edward' these days. Most people just call me 'EC.' My own mother rarely calls me by my given name. Well, she rarely calls me, period. Then there's the fact that it was Bella herself who gave me the nickname 'EC,' yet she seems to be the one person who consistently calls me anything but.
It's...I don't know, strangely pleasant hearing my name from her lips in her British-American accent. The handful of years she spent in England has given her some sort of hybrid way of dancing between the two.
Rubbing my beard, I drop my smoke in the can left out here for exactly that purpose. "The Flamethrower," I finally tell her.
Bella giggles, shaking her head like she expected exactly that answer. "Still into your hot food, huh? I swear, I learned to love spice through you. Mom and Dad bitch about tikka masala being too hot."
Now that, I knew. I laugh, sitting down on an upturned, empty beer barrel. "Did they tell you about the night my meal accidentally got switched with your dad's and he ended up eating my phal?"
"Oh, my God...no!" Her amusement has Bella creasing up. "Tell me everything!" She demands through her laughter. "How much did he eat before he realized?"
"Only a little,." I can't stifle my smile at the memory, and her laugh...it's infectious. I've never seen Charlie so red—not before or since. "He commented on how it smelled 'like hell' but tried it anyway. As soon as my food was in front of me, I told the waiter it was wrong. That's when we realized what had happened."
Wiping tears from her eyes, Bella sags against the wall and catches her breath. It's almost pitch-black, stiflingly hot even at this time of night, and she's clearly exhausted, but I can't help but notice how pretty she is in the glow of the moonlight sneaking into the alley. It smells like trash and it's not the nicest of places to hang out for a chat, but if I ignore all that, it's sort of easy to get lost in Bella's insanely piercing eyes and contagious cheerfulness.
"Right," she sighs, stubbing out her smoke. "I better head home. It takes me half-hour on a good day and Arlo is on a no-nap streak so I can't count on getting my head down later to save me." Twisting her hair back into some kind of messy knot, she offers me a tired smile. It's only then that I notice the smudges under her glassy eyes. She looks drained. "Thanks for the company."
This isn't right. I mean, shit. She's a tiny slip of a girl—no, woman—and only wackos are out at this time of night. I battle with myself for a beat, clearing my throat as she opens the door to the back of the store.
"I'll give you a ride." Her eyes widen just enough for me to realize my fuck-up. "Home! I'll give you a ride home." Raking a hand through my hair, which feels pretty gross even to me after a night slaving away in the hot kitchen, I grimace. "I should head home anyway. Jones and Kelly can finish the clear-down without me supervising."
She's always been an open book. Bella's thoughts play out across her face; I see the moment she accepts this as the most sensible option. The safest, too. I'll bet Charlie has no idea she was planning to walk home at this time of night. I'm doing him, and Bella, a favor. It's got nothing to do with the fact that I felt an indescribable pang at the thought of her leaving. It's purely because I don't want her to walk home alone, that's all. That's all it is.
"Are you sure? I don't want to put you out. I was borrowing Dad's car but now Rosalie's is in the shop, she needs it to get around more than I do."
I don't agree, but it's not my place to get involved.
"I'm sure. I just need to grab a few things from my office and make sure the other two are all right."
"That's okay, I'll lock up the store and come meet you out front."
I wait for her to head back into the shop and the bolt to click behind her before heading inside. Music is still blaring from the kitchen speakers when I get there. Jones has a saucepan in his hands as he pretends to play the guitar, and Kelly's using a hand whisk as a microphone.
"For fuck's sake…"
"EC! Come be frontman," Kelly demands, lowering her 'mic.'
"Uh, I'll pass, thanks." Pointedly glancing at the few dishes still on the drying rack and then at the dry mop and empty bucket across the room, I cross my arms over my chest. "Am I payin' you to do your jobs or act like dicks?"
"Act like dicks," Jones and Kelly chime without missing a beat.
Fuckin' children I'm employing.
"You know what? I don't care. I'm not on openin' tomorrow."
Jones' smile fades pretty fuckin' quick, 'cause…
"Shit. I'm opening up, aren't I? Dammit."
As Kelly rinses him for being a dumbass, I head back out of the kitchen and cross the hall to my office. There are a few files I want to take home to look over tomorrow and I need to have a look at the rota now Garrett's gonna be off for a couple of weeks with Tanya and the baby, so I grab those and decide I might as well send my lazy, good for nothin' staff home for the night. It's just past one now, and Jones can sort the last few things out when he comes to start the prep in the morning. A silhouette in the doorway scares the shit out of me before I can make it into the kitchen.
"Motherfucker!" I spit, realizing a second later that I recognize the pinky purple hair catching the miniscule amount of light spilling through the room from the streetlights outside.
"Sorry! The door was unlocked…" Bella murmurs softly, stepping closer so her guilty smile is illuminated by the light escaping from the kitchen into the hall. "Judging by your face, I'm guessing the door wasn't meant to be unlocked," she continues with a giggle.
"No," I grumble, raising my voice enough that I know Jones and Kelly will hear, "the fuckin' door wasn't meant to be left unlocked!"
They fall silent for a beat before Kelly busts a gut laughing and Jones joins us out in the hall. "Sorry, EC. Oh, hey, Bella. How ya doin'?"
"I'm good, thanks. How's the new place treating you?"
Not for the first time, I'm jealous of how Bella seems to find it easy slotting into any social situation. More so in the last few years, I find it hard to be around people. Bella...she shines. Even tired, as she obviously is, her face radiates her enthusiasm and focus as she listens to Jones ranting about the water heater at his new place—which broke the first week he moved in—and the awesome paint job he did on the bedroom—which he didn't actually do. That would be yours truly.
"Yeah, yeah. You're a regular David Bailey with a paint brush," I mumble, rubbing the back of my neck as Bella focuses those steel gray peepers on me and smiles so big and wide she flashes her teeth.
She obviously gets the joke. Jones, however, does not.
Frowning, he cocks his head like a ridiculously confused puppy. "Who's David Bailey?"
"Never you mind, young padawan," Bella coos, patting his cheek.
"All right," I huff. "Let's get goin'."
Looking between us with an increasingly salacious, taunting grin, Jones waggles his eyebrows. "Oh, I see how it is…"
If the dark look in my eyes warning him not to push it doesn't do the trick, he obviously realizes it's not a great idea to go there with me, especially not after a manic night like tonight, because he quickly schools his expression and wishes us a good night.
Peering down at Bella, I can't help but be in awe. She looks shattered, but she's still smiling as Jones pulls her in for a one-armed hug. "See ya, Jones." Leaning into the kitchen, she calls out a 'hi, bye' to Kelly before facing me. "Okay, I'm good to go whenever you are."
Nodding, I raise an eyebrow at Jones. He chuckles and turns to rejoin Kelly. "I get it, I get it. I'll make sure everythin's done before we open, EC. Don't get your Calvins in a wad."
"Fuckin' jokester. No tips for you this week."
My furrowed brows pull tighter as he snorts, not even bothering to look at me.
"Night, boss. Sweet dreams!"
"I get no damn respect around here."
"Maybe that's because you're a soft touch, boss," Bella teases as we head for the door. I lock up behind us, knowing Jones is staying with Kelly in the apartment above the restaurant tonight. They think they're so stealthy. If they really didn't want me to figure things out, Jones shouldn't waltz in for his shift with an overnight bag, and they really shouldn't fool themselves into thinking the sound of the grill drowns out their pretty fuckin' loud whispers about how they 'can't wait for later.' Fools.
"I'm no fuckin' soft touch, I'll have you know!" And that would have sounded manlier if I hadn't whined it like a toddler. Fuck. "I'm a hardass boss, all mean and shit."
Bella snorts, following the beep and flashing lights of my Jeep when I hit the button on my fob to unlock it. It's still hot as Hades out here despite the time, so before I even think about moving I have the A/C running. Bella's sigh of relief as she leans forward to within a couple inches of the vents makes me grin.
"I'm a bit out of practice with this heat," she admits, shooting me a sheepish smile. "I was in England for nine summers and it was never this hot, I swear."
"Maybe coming back in the height of summer wasn't easing yourself in all that gently."
Laughing softly, she sits back in her seat and buckles up. "You're right, I didn't think that through, did I?" With a quiet sigh, she explains, "Once I made the decision to come back, I just couldn't wait."
She's been back in Florida for nearly three weeks now, but this is the first time I've really had the opportunity to ask her about her decision to return. I mean, by all accounts, she's had a great time in England. School, friends, boyfriends—or one in particular, much to Charlie's frustration.
Charlie and Renee are under the misguided assumption that I can't take care of myself and require feeding regularly, just like a pet they might look in on when their neighbors go on vacation or something. Before Bella came home, they'd often pass the time I spent with them lamenting the distance between them and their daughter—and later, their grandsons—which is how I have a rough idea of how the last nine years have gone down.
I mean, I won't lie, I didn't always listen as much as I should. There's only so many times I can hear 'I wish she were closer' and 'why did she have to move so far away?' before I can't help but tune out.
But I do know the boys' surname happens to be 'Swan' and there aren't any parents I know who'd stick around in one place if their kids were moving to another continent. There's a story there.
That said, I've never been one to pry. God knows I hate it when other people try to delve into my head.
The streets are, as I suspected, mostly deserted. As I drive in the direction of Charlie and Renee's house, my eyes flick over to Bella. She's staring out of the window, her head against the headrest and the curve of her smile just visible.
I wonder what's making her smile like that.
"So it wasn't the weather that called you home," I start, immediately cringing. I've never been one for idle chit-chat. Silence is my unwanted but familiar friend these days. Making conversation for the sake of it is definitely not my thing.
"Was it the sandy beaches? The nightlife?"
"I'm a single mom to three little boys...clubbing isn't exactly high on my list of priorities," she points out wryly, rolling her head to face me. I feel the gentle puff of air on the side of my face and neck as she sighs. "There were some nice beaches near where we lived, but we went to a place called Camber Sands a few times. It was a bit further away, but the beaches were gorgeous."
Pulling up at a stoplight, I turn away from the drunken girls staggering across the crosswalk in time to see Bella's nostalgic smile. "Finn loved the dunes. I've got videos of him climbing up just to roll back down. I'll show you sometime."
My stomach twists, a pang of something indescribable hitting me square in the chest. Reaching up to rub the ache, I refocus on the road. The light turns green, but it's not the road ahead I'm seeing.
Sandy dunes, sunkissed smiles, and seagulls shrieking overhead. Sticky-fingered tickle fights and melodic giggles as we skid and slide through the sand...
The rock in the pit of my stomach doesn't shift even as we continue our journey. I can feel Bella's eyes on me but I refuse to meet them until we roll to a stop outside her parents' house. She wears an ever-so-slight frown, her eyes tired but alight with curiosity.
Always so curious, this one.
"I guess I'll see you Saturday," I finally say when she makes no move to get out of the car.
"Saturday?"
My lips kick up on one side. "At brunch?"
"Right, brunch." She blows out a long breath. "Thank you for the ride, I really appreciate it."
"It's no problem." Drumming my fingers on the wheel, I know I'm coming off like a rude, impatient motherfucker, but I can't help it. I'm itching for the silence of solitude. It's like ants are crawling under my skin.
After an awkward pause, she reaches for the handle and climbs out of the car. "So, bye, then."
Before she can close the door, I call her name, biting my tongue immediately after. "Don't walk home alone. Which days do you have late shifts?"
She looks confused—either at my words, my gruff tone, or both—but murmurs, "Wednesdays and Thursdays".
I work both of those days, generally.
"Come to the restaurant when you're done. I'll bring you home."
"Edward, you don't need to—"
"Please, don't argue. Just…" huffing, I roll my head side to side, waiting for the click. There we go. "I don't want to even imagine your dad's reaction if he finds out I know you're planning on walking home alone at stupid o'clock and didn't do anything about it." Cocking an eyebrow, I ask a question I already know the answer to. "He thinks you're getting a cab, right?"
The slight flush of pink on her cheeks says everything. "It's possible. Rosalie has to travel around more than I do. I can walk from home to here easy enough when I don't finish so late, but the hotel is further away. I really appreciate the ride home, but I can't expect you to drive me around every time I have a late shift."
Pressing my foot down just a shade, the engine revs loud enough she won't push it; her parents, sisters, and sons are asleep in the house, after all.
"I'll see you tomorrow. Come next door when you're done at the store. I'll be expecting you." To lighten the moment, I try out a small smile. "You can be our taste tester for the new menu if you get done in time."
"Well, why didn't you say so? I'll see you just after eleven."
With a light tap of her hand on the roof, she quietly closes the door and turns to trot up the path to her parents' door. The porch with its mums in hand-painted pots and a brightly coloured plaque announcing that the Swans live here is a stark contrast to the way some of the other homes alongside it scream wealth.
As she opens the front door and steps inside, Bella casts a quick look over her shoulder. I see the shadowed curve of her smile and manage one of my own when she offers a quick wave before ducking into the house.
Alone with my thoughts, at last, I head home. It's only a short drive. Ten minutes, tops. But it's enough time to feel the familiar ache of dread settling into my bones. By the time I pull up outside, I've forgotten all about Bella's confused eyes as I insisted on driving her home after every late shift, the way her perfume lingers in my car, and how I didn't actually want to leave her.
The motion sensor switches on the light which illuminates the way to the porch steps, but I know the stone path like the back of my hand. I trudge up the wooden steps and fumble for my keys, keeping my eyes downcast and away from the plaque beside the door. Once I'm inside, I can breathe, but each inhale weighs heavily on my chest.
The lavender air freshener on the console table ran out years ago, but the phantom scent infiltrates my nostrils anyway; much like the imaginary sounds of laughter in the kitchen at the end of the foyer and infuriatingly cheerful children's music from the living room to my right.
It's all fake. All in my head.
My feet follow the sounds regardless.
Flipping the light on in the kitchen, it takes me a moment to focus. A moment for the dancing silhouette to disappear and the dishes I let stack up take her place. For the booster seat at the island to empty and the chime of "honey, you're home!" to leave my ears.
Loneliness lands like a lead balloon in my chest, but this is my life now.
Silent. Lonely. Empty.
So I have two recs for you this week because I am LOVING both and the writers are beyond wonderful ladies who deserve the shout-out and more.
The first is Sunshine1220's Dominion Of My Heart. It's a historical/medieval style fic and oh-my-damn, it has my heart. I love everything Cheryl writes but this might be my favorite of all her works of art. Summary: Commanded by his King to seize her kingdom, he chooses to set his eyes on a different prize ... dominion of her heart. What he offers her instead is a chance to choose her own fate. Kings and their kingdoms will fall. Blood will be spilled. When it seems all is lost, can they hold on to everything they've gained?
The second is by a new-to-me writer, Hotteaforme, and it's called White Noise. Kate's graphics for each chapter caught my attention and I binge-read the first few chapters. I kind of wish I'd waited though because holy moly, is it a humdinger. Go check this one out but hold onto your big-girl panties. Summary: Waitress Bella wants nothing to do with her boyfriend's shady drug dealings. When he forces her to do him a favor, she finds herself on the wrong side of the wrong sort of people… all except one. M for a reason. 00s vibes.
I'll link both stories in my update posts on Facebook. Come find me-Ciara Shayee Hill-and join my group, Ciara Shayee's Subconscious.
Huge hugs and thank yous to annaharding, Thats-So-Alex, LadyLoonie, Anakinsmom, and LizziePaige for your help. You ladies rock and I heart you.