Chapter 9

After a meal of nicely prepared, rare steak drizzled with a smooth blood sauce, Bella's smile warms me thoroughly as I take my corner seat at the bar. Even though we had a great day, it's still a nice feeling knowing that she's letting go of her ire towards me.

"Hello, beautiful." Her blush says it all as she lays a cocktail napkin out in front of me.

"Wine or scotch?"

"Surprise me." She smirks and struts away, possibly throwing a little extra oomph into her walk knowing I'm watching. Her friend joins her at the bottle display and says something, to which Bella nods and looks towards me. The friend scowls, but doesn't say anything as she walks away from where I am.

"Our best, Macallan 25 Year." The glass gets set in front of me and I'm happy to see Bella rest her elbows on the bar instead of running off.

"Your friend doesn't like me much, hmm?"

Bella looks over her shoulder and shrugs. "Kate's protective. She went through something of a bad breakup herself before we met. She's been kind of bitter since then, but she means well."

"I guess she's no fan of what we're doing." Taking a sip, the burn flows down my throat beautifully and I'm instantly relaxed by the liquor and the company, my mind straying from the jackass and my new assignment.

"What are we doing?" Bella props her chin on her hand and looks at me with a gleam in her eye.

We're falling madly, hopelessly back in love. "We're reconnecting. In fact, when you get off here I've got plans for us."

Bella just hums before she's called away by Kate to help change a keg. While she's busy, I people watch and relax, completely at ease in a way that's foreign. I can see why Bella likes it here. The weather is certainly pleasant, and the easy vibe from being in a vacationer's paradise is palpable. I wonder what it would be like to live here full-time?

Choking on a sip, it occurs to me that I haven't thought past my grand scheme of getting Bella back. What comes next? I mean, she still needs to learn of my occupation because it's not one I'm willing to give up if she intends to be with me. I couldn't ask her to move for me after all I've done to her, but could I relocate down here? Work remotely like a finance consultant or Mary Kay saleswoman?

The amount of money I'd spend on sunscreen alone would have to garner a much bigger cut from Emmett and his evil better half that runs the books. Not to mention having blood shipped down regularly. Unless Bella was willing…

Before I can even travel down that rabbit hole, my sixth sense picks up the fact that my mark is entering the bar area, his wife or whatever she is hanging on him like she'd rather go immediately to the room. I'm uneasy with being in such close proximity, but I'll have to use this to my advantage. I certainly cannot just leave Bella right now if I plan to stay in her good graces.

They sit in their normal seats on the other side, which allows me to observe him somewhat from a distance. It's not my normal MO, but maybe this will benefit me in some way, scoping him out while in plain sight. Bella moves to say hello and I watch her chat with them for a minute, all three laughing while the nitwit rubs his stomach and makes an 'I'm full' face like a cartoon character. They order some drinks and as soon as Bella turns to prepare them, I catch the little brunette checking out her ass before turning back to her companion that's chatting with a woman next to them. Can't say I blame her, Bella does have a fine ass.

Even though the main part of my brain is focused on watching his every move to garner as much intel as possible, the part of me that's newly pre-occupied with romance is fascinated with his ability to be more than one thing. He's making mistakes left and right; sitting with his back to the world, not trying to remain inconspicuous (in fact, just the opposite as he laughs too loud and gestures too large), and engaging with other people. But he sure looks damn carefree.

The bar picks up with customers returning from dinner or their excursions out sight-seeing, so I order another scotch and watch Bella hustle, all the while observing jerkoff to pick up anything useful.

He's left-handed, has a habit of playing with a mustache that isn't there, and has holes in his ears, but no earrings. When his girl says anything remotely funny, he rubs her back twice in a circle. When conversation lulls he tends to fiddle with the glass in front of him. When someone new slides onto a stool next to him, he finally shows what he is by looking the person up and down, zeroing in on the hands (you can tell what sort of work a person does by their hands), the waistline (hidden weapons), and shoes (what their plans might be or where they've been).

Even though he does these things, I'm still not convinced he's as good as he thinks he is, but wonder if maybe he is here on a job.

"Hey, you're deep in thought." Bella waves her hand in front of my face, alerting me to the fact that I've been staring at lamebrain too long.

"Sorry, was thinking about you."

"Bullshit."

"I think about you twenty four hours a day. Always have."

Bella blows her hair off her forehead and shifts, seemingly self-conscious. "Jesus, Edward. What if this doesn't work out the way you want?" She waves a hand between us.

A smile creeps across my face, slow and predatory as I narrow my eyes at her and make a clucking sound. "It already has, Bella. You just haven't accepted it yet." I take her hand and massage the skin between her thumb and finger. She watches as I bring her hand to my mouth, the same glazed look crossing her features similar to the other night when I did the same thing.

"But you will."


The bar closes at 1 a.m.; long after dumb fucker and his possible bisexual girlfriend have left to go do whatever it is they were starting under their clothing while sitting in plain sight.

I'm waiting for Bella to get off work, and despite the side-eyes Kate's been giving me all night, she tells us to go ahead and leave, that she'll finish up. I thank her kindly despite the stink face she's throwing. It appears I'll have to woo Bella's friend a little, too, if things work out.

"I have my moped." Bella says as she lets me lead her towards the employee parking lot with my hand lightly touching her back.

"That works." We reach the red scooter and I grab the helmet hanging from the handlebars.

Sticking it on her head, she's adorable and I can't help but continue putting it on for her, brushing the underside of her chin while I secure the clasp. "You don't have one," she worries.

"I don't need one."

"Oh, right. You can't die," she says matter-of-factly, which I love.

"No, I still can until I become a Full, I'm just a really good driver."

"And so humble."

I smile at her as I sit on the seat, leaving room for her in front of me instead of behind. "Hop on, babe." I know she's thinking of the hundreds of times she rode on my BMX handles before I had a car, her back nestled against my chest secure in the crook of my arms as I'd wheel us all over Forks. But I can only think of one.

It was a gray afternoon, but the best afternoon. Bella jumped off the front of my bike before I stopped completely, causing her to fall and the front tire to roll over her ankle. Throwing the bike down, I hovered over her, wanting to touch the sore spots but unsure how she'd take it as we'd only recently proclaimed our crushes on each other. There were tears in her eyes as she rubbed her foot, but when I finally touched it to soothe her pain, her crying lessened. I rubbed and looked at her, so pretty with her hair a mess and streaks running down her red cheeks. I said that out loud to her, how she was the prettiest girl I'd ever seen, and Bella did what I was too scared to do.

On a pile of rocks and weeds on an old dirt road, Bella kissed me first.

My memories fade as we're trucking down Duval, making our way through late night revelers, Bella nestled against me, an act my body still responds to. We reach the quieter streets and snake our way to her bungalow, the mood shifting along with the encroaching blanket of quieter night air surrounding us.

She leans back further into me, seemingly not bothered by the closeness, the closest we've been physically in years. Not wanting the ride to end, I slow the moped to a loping, lazy pace, resting my chin on her shoulder. Her head tips back, our cheeks touching as the insects and nocturnal creatures provide the soundtrack to our little dance.

"You know what I miss most of all?" she whisper-speaks, loud enough for me to hear over the purr of the engine.

"What's that, love?"

"How I didn't have to think around you. It just… was."

"And you're thinking now?"

"Too much."

"Don't. Just be."

"I want to, Edward. I do. But I can't go back to that place again. The despair and gloom. The misery and soul-crushing ache. I won't."

The moped pulls up onto the pavement of her driveway, over the cracks in the cement that sprout plant life and the occasional fallen clump of Spanish moss from the towering tree above us. Cutting the engine, my arms fall around her naturally, welcoming her home against my heart. "I will never, ever, break you again. Trust me; it's not a place I want to revisit either."

"You were that upset? I thought you were more focused on becoming what you were becoming."

I pull back from her which causes her to turn in my arms. The moonlight snaking through the flora above us is dim, but lights her face just enough that she's more beautiful than she's ever been. Slowly, I bring my hands up to her cheeks, holding her there and brushing the soft hair at her temples with my thumbs. "Don't ever doubt that leaving you was the most painful thing I've ever done. Even though I made a choice, it doesn't mean that it didn't break a piece of me permanently and leave a soul-ripping scar."

The way she's looking at me, she'd let me kiss her, right now, I'm sure of it. But I press my forehead against hers instead, knowing that for this to be right, she has to be ready.

Her breath is warm against me, her smell all around us. "You said you loved me the other night. How can you be so sure?"

"I absolutely love you."

She sucks in a breath, the familiar words from a teenage boy quoting David Bowie still affects her the way I hoped they would. It was my go-to line, the one thing I knew without a doubt back then, and it's the same now.

"I'm not there yet, Edward. I still have a bit of a steel cage protecting my heart where you're concerned."

"I'm okay with that." We stay that way, eyes closed and feeling skin against skin, until I remember what I had planned. Breaking away from her is torture, but I hold the scooter steady as she climbs off and puts the helmet back on the handlebars.

"Come in? It's still early." She pulls on my hand as I stand and set the moped on its kickstand.

"I wasn't leaving." Grinning, I follow her up the steps and stand behind her as she fumbles with the keys in the lock. It's a Schlage single cylinder, one I could easily break into for her, but I curb my urge to do so and wait for her to finally open the door.

"Sorry, it's been giving me trouble."

"No problem." That's getting replaced immediately.

"Drink? I have some red, not sure if it's any good."

"It'll be fine." She walks towards the kitchen and I grin like a loon at her old habit of opening the fridge to quickly scan its contents before shutting it and moving on. She roots around in a cupboard and shoves a cracker in her mouth, chewing while searching for a bottle opener. "Did you eat?" I call out, realizing I didn't see her take a break tonight.

"Yeah, I stole half of Kate's sandwich. I'm just snacking. Want one?"

"I'll pass."

"They're not cold," she teases and throws me the box which, I, of course, catch single-handedly without effort.

"Garlic. Are you trying to be funny?"

"Maybe."

"Well, jokes on you. I happen to love garlic." Opening the box, I shovel three crackers in and chew. "But they are dry," I manage to say once I've swallowed all the crumbs.

Bella laughs and returns to the living room with two glasses, giving one to me as she tucks her feet under her to sit on the couch as was her habit. "Any kind of cracker spread I may have, however, is cold, sorry."

We sit and sip, my hand on the couch between us aching to reach out and slip a finger up the leg of her shorts. "Can I play some music?" Holding up my phone, I stand when she nods and move to the kitchen, placing the phone into the dock and searching for what I want. The first notes of So Tonight That I Might Sleep play as I return to her and she smiles.

"Great album."

"Yes. One of your favorites, if I remember correctly." Of course I'm remembering correctly. We listen in silence for a while, lost in thoughts and memories. Step one of my plan is complete, and here comes step two. "Do you remember what we did one Saturday, listening to this album?"

Bella widens her eyes. "I'm sure we did that more than once to this album."

Laughing, I pull out five markers from my cargo shorts pocket. "The other thing."

She looks from the markers to me, recognition dawning on her perfect face. "Oh, wow." I put my wine down and take her hand, gently pulling so that her arm is stretched out between us as I shift back and lie on my side.

Pulling the black marker cap off with my teeth, I concentrate on her arm and begin tracing lines across her skin. Up and over, left and right, a spindly vine begins to form. I can feel her trembling slightly, so I rub the inside of her elbow gently as I continue drawing the plant and let the cap drop onto the couch. "It was your seventeenth birthday, and you wanted a tattoo."

I begin drawing the leaves, the veins of the frond covering her own. "Your mother said no."

Flowering buds are next, softly cascading from the vine as I continue to caress her skin with my free hand. "'Just a little one', you begged. 'It'll be my present'."

I draw the petals gently, moving her arm the way I need in order to give her flowers everywhere. "She wouldn't give in, but you thought you could get her to change her mind."

The shape of a parrot begins to emerge from a flower, its wings about to take flight as Bella's pulse quickens under my touch. "You were so tenacious; you taped pictures of tattoos on every surface of your house."

The bird gets a solitary black eye, then some feathers. "It was the standoff to end all standoffs."

Her arm is an explosion of black marks, swirling and travelling from her wrist to her bicep. Placing the marker down and grabbing the green, I begin filling in the color on the bottom stalk. "Despite your strong will, you would never go against an action your mother strictly forbade."

The vine becomes vibrant, a living, breathing snake winding itself around her skin. "You cried in my bedroom, you were so sad and upset."

The flowers turn purple, each petal lovingly painted. "I wanted to fix anything that made my Bella cry."

The bird's feathers get a light dusting of yellow and red, rising above the flowers majestically. "So I grabbed my markers, laid you down on my bed, and began to draw."

A small scattering of blue stars fill in around the leaves, flowers, and bird now covering Bella's left arm. "I wasn't going to let your birthday pass without you getting what you wanted. I was going to give it to you the only way I could."

She's staring at me when I finally look up at her, a tear rolling down her cheek while her mouth is parted slightly. "I'd do anything to make you happy again. Then, and now."

She slides down so that she's eye level with me. I haven't let go of her arm, my thumb still stroking the soft skin at the crook. "You still draw so well," she whispers.

"Only on you. You're the perfect canvas. Tell me, did you ever get your tattoo?"

"No. Nothing would've compared," she's so quiet as she says this, like she's giving me too much. "Edward?"

"Yes?"

Bella suddenly shifts and brings her face right up to me. She hesitates, both eyes searching mine, before she leans in and places the softest kiss on my lips. I don't push, don't beg for more, just let her remain still with our mouths lightly touching. It doesn't go deeper, but it doesn't need to.

Bella kissed me first.


Huge thanks as always to my GIF-loving pre-reader, LayAtHomeMom, and my favorite person/muse/beta, CarrieZM. Without them I am nothing.

And without you, I am just a bunch of unread words in cyberspace.