oOo

It was past midnight when Edward and Bella said goodbye at her front door.

After the movie and the ensuing handholding, they had talked for hours, more relaxed with each other than they'd ever been before. Edward had consumed two more glasses of wine, but Bella didn't have the impression that he was drunk.

They laughed quite a lot, too, and for the first time, Bella discovered that, behind his quiet, wistful façade, Edward possessed a wicked sense of humour. He was also well-read and interested in a large variety of things besides painting and the world of art.

"Thank you again, Bella," he said. "Can… can I call you tomorrow?"

She nodded.

"I would like that."

"Okay." His voice was soft. He raked a hand through his hair, a habit that was causing it to be constantly messy, Bella had noticed.

The taxi he had called stopped at the curb.

"Okay," she said.

Edward bent down and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek that made her shudder.

"Get back inside," he whispered against her skin. "You're cold."

She had also learned tonight that Edward had a very protective streak. When she'd told him about a guy who'd made a pass at her at a dinner party where she'd worked some months ago, he'd gone into a rant about sexist assholes.

"Good night, Edward," she said, touching his fingers one more time.

He wouldn't get into the cab before she went back to the house, so she did, smiling to herself as she closed the door.

She was, indeed, cold, and decided to take a bath. She was smiling goofily all through it.

And when she slipped into her bed and set the alarm on her mobile, there was a message from Edward.

Good night, dear Bella. Thank you again for today. You made a potentially awful day very very very good. I look forward to our phone call tomorrow. Edward.

.

She was fidgety during lunch the next day, which everyone but Pookie seemed to notice. He simply placed his damp nose on her knee and waited for her attention.

Edward had told her a little about his dog, Milo, last night. He was now buried in his sister's backyard. He'd been a rough haired Jack Russell he'd adopted as a puppy in Italy.

Edward was heartbroken about the loss, which Bella could relate to. She loved Pookie. Her family had gotten him when he was thirteen weeks old. Bella had been twelve, and Jackie nine. She found it hard to imagine a life without him. He'd always been there.

"What's going on with you?" Jackie complained when Bella handed her the salt instead of the pepper.

"What? No, nothing."

And then, Jackie's eyes, which were the same dark as Bella's and their dad's became large and round and she squealed, right there at the lunch table: "Oooh, I know! Bella's in lo-ove!"

Bella's cheeks became very hot.

"Nonsense, what makes you even say that?"

All eyes were on her.

"You're all googly-eyed, and you're not listening to anyone, and," she added, "you keep smiling to yourself!"

Bella shook her head, muttering, "Nonsense," again.

"Ha! I know!" Jackie pointed at her, a large, victorious grin on her lips. "I bet it's that guy!"

"What guy?" Charles asked.

"There's a guy?" smiled Renee.

"The guy with the dead dog!" Jackie exclaimed, and Bella would have loved to shove her sister's face into the Yorkshire pudding.

oOo

Hey guys! My back is finally better and I posted a very, very short outtake for Wake Up and Dream – it's about the new cats moving in with the Cullens. I was beginning to miss Dadward, sigh…

Thank you for your ongoing support and lovely reviews!

Hugs and kisses,

Your

harperpitt