Takeaways

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Thanks to:
Di, my editor,
and Paige, Aileen, and Deb, my prereaders.
Also, to Lizzie this time around.

Stupid Little Game
Chapter 26

Thanksgiving Day dawned cold, gray, and rainy. Since I'd stayed over at Edward's again, I was relieved I didn't have to go outside in it. All he and I had to do to get to our Thanksgiving dinner was ride up his building's elevator seventeen floors to his unofficial, adoptive parents' condo.

The ride up sent my stomach downward in more ways than one.

Gorgeous with warm brown eyes and long, caramel-colored hair, Esme Evanson's gentle smile and easygoing manner helped put my nerves at ease. Knowing she was aware of my history with Edward had made me a bit self-conscious. With her psychiatric training, what did she think about a girl who'd fallen for her high school bully? It sure wasn't a typical boy-meets-girl love story.

"I'm so glad to meet you, Bella. Edward hasn't told us much, but what he did say was wonderfully intriguing. 'The girl with a tiger's eyes who has a personality to match.'"

Flushing, I shot Edward a look. Beside me, holding a casserole dish of rosemary scalloped potatoes, he winked at me and huffed out a short laugh.

"I don't know about the personality part," I admitted sheepishly.

"We'll just have to trust him," she said with her own wink, and I realized that was probably where Edward had picked up the habit. Unless they were sending messages to each other in Morse code, they were trying to charm me to death. "He's a wonderful judge of character. Happy Thanksgiving, you two. Come in."

I stepped into the foyer, and immediately, I noticed myself in an oval mirror situated over a console table. Edward, standing behind me and seeing my double take, grinned at my reflection.

"No one appreciates the mirror," Esme remarked lightly as she pulled Edward into a quick hug. "Hi, honey." And then she turned back to me with a crooked smile. "But I once walked out of the house with a dryer sheet stuck to my shoulder, so it's my last appearance check. Plus, I think it brightens up this little corner well."

I followed her from the gray marble flooring onto carpeting so thick that I nearly wobbled. Like Edward's condo, the far wall was mostly a row of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the bay, but with a much better view. Where Edward's had cherry wood floors with cream area rugs, this place was a contrast in whites and dusty blues. With its polished wall sconces and strategically placed mirrors, the living room looked like the inside of a jewelry box.

I had a sudden urge to take off my shoes.

Edward took my hand with his free one, then leaned close.

"Nobody bites here," he whispered, misunderstanding my hesitation.

"I'm going to be afraid to touch anything," I murmured as we passed the dining room. It was set back under an arched alcove, where a long, beautifully decorated gray trestle table was set for dinner.

As we neared the gently curved island that separated the kitchen from the sprawling living room, a blond-haired man stepped around the side of it. Wearing a sky blue sweater that matched his intense gaze, he was as striking as his wife.

"You must be Bella," he said with a wide smile, rubbing his hands on a dishtowel that he then flipped over his shoulder. "You're as lovely as Edward described."

"You two are embarrassing her," Edward said sotto voce, as he released me and set down his casserole dish to accept Carlisle's hug.

"You'll have to forgive us if we're overly enthusiastic about you being here," Carlisle said. Judging from the way his eyes crinkled in the corners, and the exaggerated arch of his brow, he was more than pleased to see us. "Edward's never brought a guest before."

Carlisle was a great jokester, according to Edward. He'd once stuffed tissues into the toes of all of Esme's shoes, making her think she'd outgrown them; and, he also routinely left Post-It Notes of love for her in unusual places, which I thought was adorable.

"Thank you for having me," I said, and I knew my smile was too wide, but there was just something about him. "Edward told me . . . you like to stir the pot."

Carlisle's smile spread Grinch-like across his face. "Today, I'm only allowed to stir a literal pot of gravy. I've been sworn to good behavior," he said in a gentle, self-deprecating manner.

"Not on my account, I hope," I joked. "A little bad behavior can be entertaining, and isn't that part of what the holidays are about?"

"Definitely a tiger," Esme drawled, as Carlisle chuckled, rubbing his hands together in glee. "She'll fit right in with you boys."

"Speaking of . . ." Edward said. "Where are Paul and Embry?"

Esme motioned us over to the seating surrounding one side of the island, then poured white wine into the glasses sitting there.

"Well, Paul should be here any moment, and Embry is bringing someone. He stressed that she's still just a friend, though. She's the daughter of a defendant in a case he's won."

As I sipped my wine, I learned that Paul, some type of engineer, was gay and in between relationships.

"And he's not happy about it, either, so be nice," Esme cautioned Edward.

"I'm always nice," he replied with his hands in the air.

"That said, neither of them can wait to meet the girl who's captured your heart," she added.

Edward swore under his breath at that, and pulled me back against his chest.

"Don't believe everything they say," he whispered against my temple. "I was just waiting for the right girl."

When he stepped into the kitchen with Carlisle to place his casserole dish into the warmer, Esme came to stand close beside me.

"I've never seen him so happy," she began in a hushed tone. "And I know how trite that sounds, but it's true, nonetheless. He's always been rather quiet and reserved, but lately, I've noticed a certain confidence in his manner. He's always belonged with us, but I can tell he truly feels as if he does now. So thank you."

I was taken aback, both by the fervency in her words and the look in her eyes. "I . . . haven't really done anything," I murmured as I flushed.

Her rather fierce expression went soft. "Oh, you've done everything, Bella."

With a parting wink, she moved into the kitchen to supervise Carlisle as he pulled the turkey out of the oven to baste, leaving me astonished. It was difficult to imagine Edward being quiet—I'd only ever seen him confidently vocal and in charge. Of course, that had been at work. I'd never witnessed how he'd behaved around his chosen family, but it was easy to imagine how he might not have felt as if he belonged—because of his past, because he'd never known love. And because he wasn't adopted like the other two were. He'd said more than once that he'd been lonely.

I gazed at him as he stood at the open oven with Esme and Carlisle, arguing about whether or not the turkey was brown enough, and who was going to be the one to lift the bird. As they teased each other, it was obvious to me they loved him, and that he was happy. Seeing his easy joy made my throat tighten. If I had anything to do with that look on his face, I was humbly grateful.

When Paul arrived, he was wearing a cowboy hat and a heavily decorated shirt with tassels across the chest, something that took his family by surprise.

"Where are your chaps?" Edward asked laughingly.

"I save those for private times," he answered with an evil grin, and more than one person winced. He handed Esme the pie he held, then pulled off the hat, setting it on a side table.

I thought he was good-looking in an unconcerned, endearing way, even with his brown, hat-crushed hair.

Bowing exaggeratedly over my hand, he aimed his grin at me.

"So you're the girl who caught Eddie-boy."

"No, I caught her," Edward broke in before I could reply.

"Howdy, partner," I said, and he winked at me.

Of course.

Embry's arrival was more subdued, and his cool gaze subjected me to a close perusal that made me nervous. In no way did he look like someone who winked. He was tall and model-thin, as was the sweet, shy-looking woman beside him.

"So you work for Edward?" he asked in a confused manner.

"She works with me," Edward answered firmly, drawing Embry's gaze to him. The two men studied each other silently, and then Embry nodded.

"Okay," he said. "It's complicated, I'm sure."

"Embry," Esme said in a mom voice.

"Just trying to get the facts," he commented and shrugged.

"Gathering information for a case, are ya?" Paul asked as he clapped Embry hard enough on the back to make him stumble forward a step. With a smirk, Embry drove his elbow back into Paul's stomach.

"Following my nature," he answered as Paul bent forward with a gust of breath.

"Yes, we work with each other," Edward said, his tone easy, his hands warm on my shoulders. "The CEOs are aware of this, and are okay with it, so I hope you guys are, too."

Embry ran a hand through his dark blond hair in a smooth gesture. "It's interesting, that's all."

"It wasn't planned, believe me," I told him, my gaze briefly sweeping across everyone. I knew this was noteworthy, but I also wanted them to know I was in it with both feet. "I'm aware of the complications about dating someone I work with, but I decided Edward was worth the risk. We've discussed it more than once."

I turned slightly to meet Edward's searching gaze.

"We don't mind if you have questions," I admitted while holding his gaze, and I saw his face relax.

There was a pause, and then Paul spoke.

"Ever kiss over the water cooler?"

Embry coughed out a sound of laughter, and Edward lightly smacked the back of Paul's head.

"The water cooler's pretty tall," I said, going with it. "I doubt we could manage it. No, we mostly stick with the supply closet. Edward's a VP, so we have to protect his reputation."

Paul's mouth dropped open and his gray eyes lit up like candles.

"I like her," he told us.

Hearing it had me lighting up inside like a candle. Although Embry's gaze was still appraising, he also looked a bit friendlier. But it was okay—I liked that they were protective of Edward, that they seemed to want to get to know me.

"I love you," Edward whispered, lips at my ear.

Blooming red under everyone's gaze, but trying not to care, I turned my head to kiss his cheek, and Paul started to sing.

"At last, my love has come along
My lonely days are over."

By the last line, everyone but Embry and his guest were singing along cheesily.

"And life is like a song!"

It wasn't at all how I envisioned my first meeting with Edward's chosen family would go. Life was odd.

Thanksgiving at the Evanson's was like a Bon Appétit spread come to life with all of the colorful serving dishes and the variety of food. There were two kinds of potatoes, two kinds of dressing, and all of the other usual holiday fare—certainly enough to feed a small army. Or four grown men with ravenous appetites, who were chastised to wait for grace before beginning. After Carlisle performed the honors, we all took turns saying what we were grateful for in our life.

Esme was tearfully grateful for all her kids being there, while Carlisle went deep, talking about friends and family, and how important it was to appreciate those you chose to let into your life.

When it was Edward's turn, he reached for my hand.

"I'm grateful for forgiveness," he said tenderly, gazing deeply into my eyes, making my heart flip.

"And I'm grateful for second chances," I murmured back, captured by his adoring gaze, the soft flush on his cheeks, the widening curve of his mouth . . . he was all I saw.

"I'm grateful for turkey and mashed potatoes," Paul said, breaking us out of our bubble.

It sparked a good-natured mini argument between the three young men about insensitivity and embarrassing PDAs, something that made Esme shake her head, and Carlisle comment about how well they played together. The two of them were obviously used to the boisterously loud voices and teasing laughter. Having grown up as a single child, where Thanksgiving involved dinner on TV trays in front of a football game, I was at first astonished, and then charmed. I doubted dinner at the Evanson's would ever be quiet or boring.

Later, cleanup duty was assigned to the men, who grumbled and joked about who was going to portion out the leftovers, and who had to do the dishes.

Claire, Embry's guest, followed me and Esme over to the u-shaped couch near the windows. Except for a rather startling laugh that sounded a little like a donkey braying, Claire had been mostly quiet. I'd caught her looking wistfully at Embry more than once, and wondered how long it would be before Embry admitted she was more than just a friend.

"You'll get used to us," Esme said as Carlisle took a place at the sink. Apparently, he'd lost the argument. "It's not often that we're able to get the boys together, but when we do, they make up for lost time."

"I think it's wonderful," I replied softly, wondering how Dad was doing over at Sue Clearwater's.

He'd been dating her off and on for years. She was the perfect woman for him—she knew how to gut, clean, and cook the fish he caught, and she knew how to be steady and devoted without hovering. I hoped they'd marry one day.

"You come from a small family?" Esme wondered, as Claire excused herself to use the restroom.

I reached for my glass of wine sitting on the coffee table. "I'm an only child of parents who are both also an only child. I lost my mother in high school, so it's just my dad and me."

She gave me a gentle smile as she folded one of her legs underneath herself. "You must be close then?"

"Not as close as I would like. I haven't told him about Edward yet," I admitted with a sheepish shrug. "All he knows is that I'm working for someone I used to hate from high school. I'm not sure how to bring it up with him. My . . . relationship with Edward happened suddenly, in just the past few weeks. He and I weren't exactly . . . reconnecting this past year."

Her eyebrows rose. "Ah. And how long have you been with the company?"

I counted back in my head to April, when I'd started. "It's been just over seven months."

Emotionally, it seemed a hell of a lot longer than that.

I'd begun the position angry and closed off, then had taken an extended trip through the wringer with Edward. There'd been the awkward discussion after the karaoke confrontation, my dawning recognition of horror that I was beginning to like him, the uncomfortable meeting at Bar Allegro when I'd thought to find someone to fuck my mind off him . . . and the damned confusing feelings of attraction after I learned he was actively pursuing me. Then, there was the embarrassing misunderstanding about Riley when I damn near cried in front of him in his office. And just as I believed I'd come to terms with everything after breaking down that time at the yoga studio, Edward pulled the rug out from under my feet by ignoring me. My world had been knocked off its axis. That had me angrily confronting him, which led to our emotional conversations, when I learned he wasn't who I thought he was at all. Astonishing and sudden, my life had gone from black and white to glorious Technicolor. The gray concrete sidewalks I walked upon had shifted into yellow brick leading straight to Oz, where I'd fallen at the wizard's feet. He'd pulled me up, and that was it, I'd promptly fallen in love.

Just thinking about it all had me shaking my head.

"It happens that way sometimes. So unexpectedly quick that you're left gasping in the wake," Esme murmured, a faraway look in her eyes. "It was like that with Carlisle. We met under rather dramatic circumstances. A drunk driver in a pickup truck ran a red light and T-boned my VW Bug. Pinned me against the door and the steering wheel."

I gasped through the emotion evoked by her words, unable to stop from imagining my mother being pinned in her car.

"I was hurt badly and panicking, and then Carlisle was there," Esme was saying. "He saw the whole thing happen. He . . . had an easy way about him that calmed me down. He was actually studying to become a pediatrician at the time, so he had some medical training."

Her head bent, and she studied the contents in her own wine glass before glancing up at me again with a soft smile.

"He stayed with me until the fire department arrived. Then, he visited me in the hospital. Told the staff I was his sister. Momma was charmed by him, but no less than I was. By the time I was released to go back home, I knew I loved him."

"That is dramatic," I mentioned thinly, then cleared my throat.

Esme's forehead wrinkled, and she looked at me sharply.

"What is it?"

With a sigh, I bowed my head briefly. "My mother was killed in a car accident. Hearing you talk about yours kind of brought it back."

Her hand warmed my knee. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Bella."

"No, I'm all right," I insisted. "I liked hearing about the way you and Carlisle met. It makes me appreciate my own whirlwind romance with Edward. Maybe we're not so crazy after all."

We both eyed Edward across the room as he accepted a dripping dinner plate from Embry, then slid it into the dishwasher rack. I could see the two of them talking quietly as they worked.

"I definitely wouldn't call either of you crazy," Esme remarked.

I bit my lip nervously, then forged ahead. "You don't think it's . . . odd that I've fallen for him? I mean, considering my past with him?"

Her eyes were openly kind as she gazed at me. "It's not odd at all when you consider Edward transformed from an abused, hurt, traumatized teen into someone loving, kind, and compassionate. It's given him an unerring sense of understanding and empathy he wouldn't otherwise have with you. You couldn't be with him if not for that," she said with a note of pride in her voice, and I nodded, because it was true. I'd felt the proof of it more than once.

"You two were given an unexpected chance not many people get—the opportunity to talk through your past history, to hash it all out, to share your anger. You know firsthand what the two of you went through, and you've seen how far you've both come."

And there came the tears as I remembered the vulnerability, the painful truths, the bittersweet power of that night again. Seeing it all, Esme gave me a knowing glance as she continued.

"I think you both understand all that each of you has had to overcome in a way no one else ever will. You've been honest with each other. And, obviously, the two of you are good at communication. It's a wonderful gift, Bella."

"It wasn't easy at first," I admitted, feeling a sharp twinge of guilt that most of our misunderstandings had been due to my unrelenting anger.

"Oh, it usually isn't," she said. "It's something you have to learn, and continue to work at. But, I'm so proud of you both. Each of you has been able to separate the teens you used to be from the adults you are today. That takes strength, courage, and understanding for the other. It seems like a hell of a solid foundation for a relationship to me."

I wiped at my eyes as she leaned forward in a confiding manner.

"Not to mention, my Edward is darn easy to like," she whispered with a wink.

"He is," I agreed, noticing he was looking my way with a look of concern on his face. I shook my head and smiled.

"Later," I mouthed to him.

Before anything else could be said, Claire returned, and Esme guided us into an easy conversation that helped us learn about each other. She drew us out by asking us silly questions about our favorite dance moves, things we had beside our bed, and if we had any secret talents. When the men joined us later, Claire was enthusiastically explaining why she'd love to live in Harry Potter's world.

When everyone said their goodbyes a few hours later, I felt the need to hug Esme and Carlisle. They were beautiful people; they were good for Edward. They were his parents.

Anthony's death might have saved Edward's life, but I was certain they had helped give it meaning.

. . . . .

Later that night, I ran the pads of my fingers along Edward's bare back in bed. We were naked, our limbs still entangled, his breath tickling my chest. And I was wondering if I should ask why Carlisle and Esme hadn't adopted him; because it was obvious they loved him like a son. That he loved them as if they were his parents.

"Can I . . . ask you something personal?" I murmured, bringing one of my hands up to wind my fingers into the silk of his hair.

Can I ask you something that might hurt?

His laughter was deep and teasing, and then he looked up at me with a tender expression on his face. When he spoke, the caress in his voice made my toes curl.

"You can always ask me anything, Tiger Eyes."

I gently pulled his head back down against me. He hummed as I began running my fingers through his hair.

"I googled something the other day," I began tentatively. "I was wondering . . . if it was possible for an adult to be adopted. And I learned that once a person turns eighteen . . . all he needs is to give his consent."

I bit my lip and squeezed my eyes shut as the arm across my stomach tensed.

"And you're wondering why Carlisle and Esme haven't adopted me," he said matter-of-fact.

I exhaled, relieved he'd answered.

"Yes. If you don't mind sharing, that is," I whispered, hoping it wasn't a sore subject. Just in case it was, I pressed a kiss against the top of his head.

"It's not because they haven't asked. They have, more than once."

Uh-oh.

His fingers clenched and unclenched around my waist, and I continued playing with his hair soothingly. Finally, he spoke again, in a soft, wistful tone that made my throat tighten.

"I know it's a lie my subconscious is telling me, but I haven't felt worthy enough to be their son. I've learned how to forgive myself for what I did to you, but apparently, I can't get past the reasons why my parents were the way they were about us. Part of me can't help but hope that, one day, they'll wake up and realize that losing two sons is too much."

It stung, hearing his words. After all he'd been through with his shitty parents, part of him still wanted their love and acceptance.

Don't cry. You have to be strong for him.

"Because they haven't, it's made me feel less than worthy. I wish to God it weren't true, but it's taken a toll on me." He swallowed hard. "If my own parents don't love me, who can?"

I tipped his face up to mine and saw his eyes were black with sorrow.

"Me," I said fiercely. "I love you. Because every last inch of you is worth loving, Edward. And you know what a tough customer I am. Do you think I'd give my heart to just anyone?"

His eyes closed, his mouth curving into a small, lopsided smile.

"You are the reason why I'm so damned happy right now," I said with a strained hitch in my voice. "You are why my heart races, why I can't catch my breath, and why I wake up smiling. You're the reason why I no longer hate or fear who I was and am."

Please hear me.

"Who was it that forced me to face my fears? Who comforted me while I cried out all that rage? Who put me back together after I fell the hell apart? It sure wasn't the usual boy next door. I am who I am right now because of you. Because you saw past all my hate and anger. And that makes you very, very fucking lovable."

Cupping his chin, I pulled him close and kissed his forehead. His cheeks. His pouty mouth.

"Fucking loveable?" He smiled.

"Fucking loveable. Don't you dare think you're not."

He laid his head back down with a heavy sigh, tightened his grip on me, and curled his body closer to mine. Tightening my own grip, I desperately wished the force of my love could sink into his pores soul-deep and heal his heart.

"They don't deserve you," I whispered heatedly, drawing my fingers through the fine strands of his hair.

Edward was quiet for a long moment after my remark.

"I keep expecting my father to reach out to me, to ask why I haven't spent any of the money he always used to threaten me with," he finally said. "He used to think my inheritance was all I cared about, so he has to wonder . . . why it's still there, untouched."

"He should know." I pulled lightly at his hair. "It's the ultimate fuck you."

I imagined a hook-nosed man, scowling as he studied an untouched bank account statement. I hoped to God he felt a certain kind of despair every time he saw it, each time he realized again and again that Edward didn't need him. Didn't want him. I hoped his guts roiled with it.

"I let him pay for college, for my boarding, but after that, I never accepted a dime," Edward said with a shuddering sigh against my chest. "But he never mentioned anything about it. Never asked why I didn't touch my inheritance."

His voice sounded lost. Confused.

"From what you've told me, he was overly conscious about money. That you're not, probably confuses and angers him. He has no power over you anymore, so he doesn't know how to talk to you," I surmised.

Edward shrugged a little, and I knew the little boy in him still hoped for something from his father. It killed me.

"After college . . . I had a rude awakening. I was broke and living in a dump too close to Riverdale, having to work as a barista because I couldn't find a good job, even with my degree. Esme and Carlisle kept asking me to move in with them, just until I was on my feet, but I was determined to make it on my own. Even so, I was almost at the breaking point. Too close to touching the money," he admitted, his body going stiff. "It would have felt as if I was betraying Anthony if I took it, though, so I resisted. But God, it hurt, knowing it was there and it could've helped me."

I pressed my mouth against the shell of his ear, unable to fully understand how tough his life had been. In his position, I'd have felt the same pull, and who knew if I'd have been strong enough to resist.

"It was when I was at my lowest point that I met Colin. He used to come into the Starbucks where I worked on the weekends, and we'd talk about the Chicago Bulls and how we were afraid they were going to lose the season. He used to get so worked up about it, because he was sure the new coach would turn things around . . . and it just wasn't happening," he said with dark amusement in his voice.

"I was twenty-two at the time, getting frustrated that I couldn't find a job in my chosen field. All the positions I interviewed for wanted someone with experience, but if I couldn't even get hired, I'd never get any experience." He shook his head against my chest, and I ran the pad of my thumb across one of his thick eyebrows.

"And one day I made an offhand comment about how maybe social media could be used to help boost the Bulls' player morale, and thus, their performance, and that's when I learned Colin owned a marketing firm. Two weeks later, I started as one of his Junior Account Managers."

"Wow, talk about a happy coincidence," I remarked.

Edward pushed himself up to his elbows, knocking my hand away from his hair. I let it fall to the well-muscled curve of his shoulder, and he turned to kiss the sensitive inside of my arm.

"From that point on, I knew I could make it on my own. I knew I'd never ask my father for anything ever again. It was such a huge relief. Not to mention personally validating."

His words were strong, but his eyes were shiny with tears.

"But it still tears me up inside that he never . . . I mean, money was all he ever cared about."

"And now it's all he has," I said, framing his face with my hands. "It's such a poor consolation prize next to who you are. He's missing out on knowing you, Edward. Knowing the amazing man you've become. They both are missing out on the best of you."

He made a sad face and shrugged again.

"You're just going to have to take my word for it, baby," I said simply, my thumbs caressing his cheeks. "I know who you are right now a hell of a lot better than either of your birth parents. So do Esme and Carlisle."

His mouth spread into the smile he reserved just for me.

"I love you," he told me in an urgent tone. "You know that, right?"

"With all my heart," I replied, losing my breath at that fierce look on his face. "Just as I love you."

And when he bent his head to me, I put all of that love into my kiss.

A/N: I have a Group on Facebook called Powered by 23 Kicks Fanfiction where I've been sharing teasers and the occasional EPOV. Come join us!