A/N: Thank you for your patience. Let's go on a date!

At that point, Edward didn't know what he expected and, as per usual, he didn't know what he wanted. Women often dressed sexy for dates, and he appreciated the hell out of a well dressed woman. But then again, it was just mini golf. He didn't want to, but he thought he'd wonder what she was trying to prove.

"Overthinking it," he murmured to himself as he got out of his car. It seemed to be a trend with his interactions with Bella.

As usual, Bella never did what he expected. She answered the door and she looked… She was a mess. Her hair was up in a bun that was coming undone in every direction. She was wearing a Darth Vader apron that was stained liberally. Actually, most everything about her was liberally stained, including her cheeks. "I know, I know," she said. "I don't like being the late girl, but I have a good excuse."

She grabbed his hand and pulled him inside. Too shocked to do anything else, he let her lead him.

Her kitchen was a bigger mess than she was, but she took a clean spoon and dipped it into a bowl on the counter. "Are you allergic to anything?"

"No."

"Then taste this." She held the spoon, covered in a rich-looking chocolate frosting, up to him, her free hand cupped beneath to catch any drops.

Bemused now, he dipped his head to catch the chocolate on his tongue, his eyes on her until the taste registered. "Mmm." He licked his lips, lapping up as much of the flavor as he could. "That's really good."

Her grin could have lit the whole city. "Vegan chocolate frosting. Non-dairy dark chocolate and full fat coconut milk."

"That's vegan?"

"Course. You can't have a vegan eatery without a few desserts, so I'm trying a few things. We're going to have the cookies and bars-the stuff people can take with them." She looked up, and she seemed as startled as he felt to find they were so close together. She shouldn't have been surprised. She'd stepped toward him, but he had leaned down toward her.

Bella cleared her throat, blinking. "But, I, uh...But I want to add a bit of decadence."

He smiled and reached past her to dip his finger in her batter. Her eyes darkened as he put the finger to his lips, licking it off. "I'd say this is a good start."

Her tongue darted out, and he would swear he could read her mind. She wanted to lick the frosting right off his tongue. Or maybe that was his wishful thinking because what he really wanted was to share the taste directly from his lips to hers.

She took a step back and turned away from him, putting down her spoon to pick up a forkful of something else. "Try this."

SInce he'd been too busy looking at her, he had no idea what he was eating until it was melting on his tongue. He moaned. It was… Well, he didn't want to call it a hooker moan, but it was an apt description. "Jesus Christ, that's good."

She laughed. It was such a pretty sound, Edward couldn't feel too embarrassed about the noise he'd made. He chewed, savoring both the rich flavor and Bella's smile. She was proud, and she damn well should have been. "Vegan chocolate pie with a strawberry compote," she said.

"Mmhmm." He let his eyes drift to her cheek. "So what's this one?"

Her brows crinkled. "What?"

He touched the dollop of something colorful on her cheek and watched as she flushed red. He chuckled, cupping her cheek as he tried to wipe the smudge away. He laughed when it only got worse with his efforts. "Oh, man." He hid a smile behind his hand.

She narrowed her eyes at him and grabbed up a clean spatula to look at herself. She gasped. "Holy crap. I'm a Picasso painting."

"It's a good look on you." He winked.

Her smile curled up on one side. "Uh huh." She picked up her frosting spoon again.

He rolled his eyes affectionately and didn't resist when she dotted frosting around his face in a design that suited her. "There," she said, smugly satisfied with her work.

"Very nice, Swan, but I'm not sure this is golf-course appropriate."

"I need five minutes," she said, untying her apron.

He swiped at his face. "Apparently, so do I."

~0~

"I want the blue ball."

Edward pressed his lips together. For some reason, it struck him as funny that any adult person would care what color ball they got, but the attendant just nodded, looking bored. He turned to Edward. "Do you have a preference, sir?"

Still trying to stifle his laughter, Edward shook his head. "No, I'm fine with whatever ball you want to give me."

"I bet you do," he heard Bella murmur under her breath.

He leaned closer to her. "I heard that."

The attendant handed over their putters, and Edward took them. When he and Bella turned away, he didn't hand over her putter right away but instead poked at her with the hilt. "Hey, hey, hey. That's unsportsmanlike conduct," she said, grabbing at the thing.

He held her by the shoulder an arm's length away from him, teasing. "First thing's first. I need to know the competitive edge you get from a blue ball."

"Well, I'm a woman, so I'd say I have a pretty big competitive edge with blue balls."

He grinned. She'd called it. She really couldn't help herself. He hefted her putter and leaned in closer to her. "As a gentleman, I think it's fair to share my competitive edge. See, being male, I have a pretty big advantage with a stick." He held the putter out to her. "Keep it below the waist," he said, pointing to the wooden board of rules they were passing.

"Not that big of an advantage, slick."

"How do you know?" He stopped himself just before he put his foot in his mouth. How do you know? You haven't seen my junk. He wouldn't have meant it judgmentally, but it wasn't something he could laugh about.

Luckily, she didn't seem to notice his near gaff. "I'm just saying. Don't discount my skill with a stick."

Edward pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth. This woman was going to drive him crazy before the night was out, he could already tell.

He cleared his throat and gestured at the courses. "So, which path?"

She tilted her head, giving him a look. "Come on. You know what I'm going to say."

"Well, I know you like it hard, Bella." He winked at her, enjoying seeing the fluster on her face. "But there are two hard courses, so which way do you want it?"

"Four is my lucky number."

"Four it is. You're going to need all the luck you can get. Don't expect me to go easy on you."

She raised an eyebrow. "It's like you said. I like it hard."

It was a strange line he was walking. Right or wrong, he couldn't pretend what he knew about her didn't bother him. As a result, there was an offended voice in the back of his head. He didn't want to think about her being good at handling a stick.

Most of him, though, wanted that bitchy little voice to shut the hell up. He'd been on enough dates to know how rare it was for conversation to be this easy between them. And why should he have a problem with her double entendres when he was returning her barb for barb?

It was natural to overthink things in the early stages of dating but not like this. He was driving himself crazy, and what was the point of that when he was having fun? It was a second date. He should have been gauging the likelihood he would get a good-night kiss, not obsessing over the possible truth behind Bella's lewd jokes.

"Oh, no." He was so distracted trying to curb his thoughts, he'd missed the bank on the third hole. As a result, his ball headed over the bridge lopsided and veered off into the water with a plunk. "Damn."

Bella emitted a sound that drove the irritation-minigolf or not, he was a competitive person-right out of his head. "What the heck was that?"

She looked at him perplexed. "What? Why are you asking me? You're the one who can't handle your ball."

"That's not what I'm talking about. You cackled."

"I did not."

"You did. That was a full on wicked witch cackle. That's the only thing you could call it." He would also call it adorable, but he wasn't one to mince words.

Bella pressed her lips together, her face going red not only with a blush but with the effort of not laughing again. It didn't work. She cracked up and cackled.

"See?" Edward said, poking her in the side. "There it is again. You're a wicked witch."

"Uh huh. Is that your excuse? Are you going to try to tell me I sent your ball off course with my voodoo skills?"

He fixed her with a gimlet eye. "I wouldn't put it past you."

"Go get your hands wet, sunshine. People are going to catch up with us soon."

That was how Edward found himself on his belly, cringing as he reached into the water to retrieve his ball. He happened to glance over his shoulder before he straightened up and caught Bella ogling him. "Having fun up there?"

She waggled her eyebrows. "It's not a bad view."

He pretended he wasn't pleased by her remark, and she tisked. "Well, if you don't want to get stared at, don't wear jeans that tight." She winked and offered him a hand to help him up. He took it with the hand that was all wet, of course.

She didn't let him go immediately when he was on his feet. "Try it again, bucko. Remember, the ball goes in the hole over there." She pointed and stepped closer to him pushing onto the balls of her feet so she could speak near his ear. "And because I'm feeling benevolent today, I'm not even going to count your strokes."

The girl did make it difficult for him to use his big head. Edward took a deep breath as she stepped away from him. "Maybe you should count my strokes. This is the only the third hole. You're going to rue the day."

"Bring it."

Not everything out of their mouths was dirty. As they played, they talked about their family, Forks, school, and what they'd been doing-besides the obvious-since high school.

On the eighth hole, he got his payback. Or rather, he should have, but Bella's mess-up proved to be a bit more violent. It was an up the ramp, through the opening and closing door of the castle type of hole. Bella hit the ball too hard, and as a result, it had ricocheted off the closing door. She squeaked, jumping out of the way. The ball whized past them, hit a rock, shot up and hit Edward so hard in the arm, he cried out.

"Gah. Edward. Oh, man. I'm sorry."

"Jesus H." Edward's eyes watered, and he blinked sporadically because he didn't want to cry. He chuckled, and hung his head, shaking it as he kept his free hand gripped over his wounded arm. "Bella, if you were that pissed, you should have told me."

"That was crazy. I'm really sorry."

She looked so bereft, he laughed again and tapped her chin to get her to look up. "Somehow, I think I'm going to survive. I won't be beat by your pathetic attempts to disqualify me, witch."

That brought her grin back. She caught his hand and pulled him forward. "Here. I'll kiss it better."

Bella didn't kiss his arm. Oh, no. Instead, she kissed him right on the lips. It was a quick smack, all sweetness and surprise, like they were grade school kids. She kissed him, and he stood there, wide-eyed while she ran away to look for her ball. He blinked, stuck on stupid, watching her. She was blushing. Even her neck and the tips of her ears were red.

Her kiss had been innocent-a tease that he could easily brush off as not serious if he wanted.

But he wanted serious.

As she stood, triumphant with ball in hand, he was right behind her. She jumped, startled at his nearness, but before she could say anything, he took her wrist and spun her toward him. He ducked his head and kissed her. Properly. Without the slightest bit of childish innocence. He slid his fingers through her hair, cupping the back of her neck to bring her closer. He closed his eyes, catching her yelp of surprise and the little whimper that came after.

Her hands were strong and firm at his back, and her lips responded to his, matching his fervor kiss for kiss.

This wasn't a normal second date kind of kiss. The intensity of it made him woozy, and when they broke to breathe, Edward was hanging onto her as much to keep himself upright as to hold her close.

They blinked at each other as though stunned.

"Do you mind if we play through?"

Edward and Bella jumped apart, disentangling from each other's arms. Edward rubbed the back of his neck, trying to remember how the English language worked. "Yeah. Sure. Go ahead. Sorry," he said.

Bella was sitting on the bench at the head of the hole. He couldn't read her expression. She was still flushed, her eyes unfocused, but she turned toward him as he sat beside her.

There was a strange energy between them. Everything had changed, and it had happened too quickly. When Bella raised her eyes to his her smile was too small. It was genuine but tempered around the edges with a new vulnerability. The dial of their relationship had flipped from interested and casual to something beyond that, and that change brought with it a whole new set of rules.

He had the power to hurt her now, and they both knew it.

Edward brushed the back of his knuckles down her cheek. Right then, she looked more than ever like the teenage girl he'd kept in his thoughts for years. He tried again to make the angel of his memories and raunchy Ramona coalesce into the woman he'd been getting to know over these last few weeks. He sighed because the last thing he ever wanted to do was be careless with any woman.

"Come on," he said after another minute without a firm answer coming to him. The couple who'd played through their game had moved on to another hole. "I'm still going to kick your ass, wounded or not. That'll show you, witch."

That seemed to break the tension in the air. Her smile was much wider as she got to her feet. "Bring it, Cullen."

In another hole, they were back to joking and talking. Bella giggled with a witch's cackle when they got to another bridge, and Edward's ball once again veered off the bridge. Bella gasped and looked at him. "Oh, snap. Maybe I am a witch. Quick. Let's find a broom. There's something I want to try."

Edward was able to retrieve his ball on his hands and knees this time, and Bella stood over him, still grinning. "You have to face it, Edward. Your ball just likes to be wet."

He glanced over his shoulder and splashed her, making her hop around and sputter. "That got in my mouth. That's disgusting. Do you know how many balls have been in there?"

The second to last hole was a simple one. The hole itself was protected by a hanging log, which Edward set to swinging wildly.

"I got this," Bella said as she set up her shot. "I'm used to dodging sticks."

He laughed, but she was right. She got her third hole-in-one and, as they were neck and neck, sealed her victory for the night. She did a little dance of triumph.

It took him five strokes to make it past the swinging log, but he couldn't say he minded the teasing when she was still gleeful from her victory.

"So what do you think?" he asked as they stared at the last hole. "We could move on to another course."

She gasped in mock horror. "What? And not pay for another game. That's pretty morally reprehensible of you. Why do the good girls always want the bad boys?" She shook her head to herself.

"Oh, Isabella." He took her hand and drew her closer to him so they were nose to nose. "We both know you're not a good girl."

Her breath caught.

Good god, he wanted to kiss her again. He wanted it so badly, he thought he was going to go out of his mind with the need. But if he started kissing her, he wasn't going to want to stop. He sighed and took a cautious step backward, struggling to remember what he'd been about to say before he got too close. "Morally reprehensible my left foot. You're hungry, aren't you?"

She smiled again, her eyes sparkling with humor. She squeezed their still joined hands. "I'm wasting away before your eyes. What kind of a date is this that you would let a girl starve to death?"

"What can I say? I'm a horrible human being." He took her ball from her and rolled them both up the ramp. "So. What do you feel like?"

"What's wrong with here?"

He looked at her. "You want me to feed you arcade quality pizza and hot dogs?"

"Not hot dogs. I can't take balls and weiners in one night. It's too much even for my filthy mind."

He lifted his free hand to cover his mouth. "A tee hee. Weiners and balls. Tee hee hee."

"You know, it's considered bad form to make fun of your date."

"Ah, that's what I've been doing wrong. No wonder I'm still single."

They ended up back at the wine and tapas bar where they'd gone with Tanya and Alice. Edward couldn't take his eyes off her. She was smart, funny, and beautiful. And when they walked out to the parking lot, hand in hand, the desire to kiss her hand turned into need.

He was beyond intrigued. He was beyond interested. He was falling. Fast. And even though he knew that meant he needed to think before he acted, she was irresistible when she was right in front of him.

Edward put a hand on her hip, facing her and took a step forward. She stepped backward but didn't pull away. With another step, she was pressed back against his car. He put his other hand on the roof, leaning in, breathing in the sweet Moscato on her breath as she looked up at him. The vulnerability was still there but so was a reflection of the want he felt. She wasn't stopping him. So he tilted his head and kissed her.

This third kiss was slow and serious. Unlike their second kiss, which had been a chaotic blast of heat, this was a simmer. Warmth spread from his lips through his body to the center of his being. A controlled burn, because if he let it loose he was just as likely to bend her over the hood and have her right there in the parking lot. And he did want that, but he also wanted this.

He shivered when she touched his shoulder and again as her fingers slid up into his hair. She made tiny sighs, and her hand at the small of his back pushed him closer. He could feel every movement of her body, pinned as she was between him and the car.

When their kisses had dwindled to small, sweet pecks, he pulled back, though just enough he could rest his forehead against hers. He ran his fingers over her lips, and she kissed them. It was intimate. Too intimate for second dates and too intimate for them not to be on the same page.

All things considered, he was glad he'd kissed her there in the parking lot. If he'd kissed her goodnight on her doorstep, she might have invited him in, and he would have said yes.

He'd gotten in over his head in the space of a few hours and he wasn't sure he minded.

"Come on." He tugged her up off the car so he could open the passenger door. "I'll take you home."

A/N: Thanks so much to barburella and to jessypt.

SO!

Thoughts?