I was so amazed by the response to my last chapter. Thank you so much for your enthusiasm and words, it really keeps me going!

A lot of you are getting antsy for the truth of Edward's past... I'm afraid you'll have to wait a little longer. I promise it's coming, though. Hope you'll indulge me. I do have every chapter mapped out, so I mean it when I say its just a little longer.

Thanks to HollettLA and TheOtherBella for the help, eagle eyes, and support!

I don't own, I just play

Chapter 13, Dreams of Cinnamon

BPOV

"What are we doing for Thanksgiving?"

"We?"

"Yes, we."

"I... don't know. I haven't done anything for Thanksgiving in years, Bella."

"Me neither," I answered, sadly. "Jake invited me to one a few years back, but I felt so out of place. I was the only one with ovaries."

Edward's laughter surprised me.

"God, you're wonderful," he said before kissing the top of my head.

We were sitting in bed watching TV when the first gravy commercial of the season popped up, reminding me that Thanksgiving was only a few short weeks away.

"Is there something you want to do, beautiful?"

In fact, there was something I wanted to do. Something I hadn't had the space, tools or, most importantly, the friends to do in the years past.

"Yes, there is something."

"What is it?"

"I want to cook."

"No complaints from me. The last time I had stuffing, Clinton was President."

"And..."

"And?"

"I want to invite my friends," I spilled, cautiously. I had no idea what his reaction would be.

There was a beat of silence before Edward spoke.

"Is Emmett a part of that group?"

"Yes, Emmett, Rose, Alice, Jasper, and Jake. Of course, Jake will probably say no, he has a long established group he does holidays with."

"Do they all... know about me?"

"Alice and Jasper do, of course. You know I told Rose. I don't really know what she has or hasn't said to Emmett. As for Jake, I haven't said anything to him about the scars."

I could feel the butterflies in my stomach. He hadn't locked himself in the bathroom, and he hadn't said no; so far, so good.

"What will you say to Jake about me? And Emmett?"

"Whatever you want me to say."

"Do you think they'd actually want to come?"

I let a small smile play on my lips, but I didn't want to get too hopeful after all.

"There's only one way to find out."

"Right. Of course."

He sat there contemplating something in his head. He looked so serious. Staring at the foot of the bed, his face tense, his eyes focused on nothing in particular. He was lost in his own mind for a while.

"I think we can keep it honest, but vague. I was in an accident and I'm disfigured by scars."

His voice was even and calm. I was almost worried by it. I had never heard him speak of himself so coolly. There were no insults, no comments; he seemed neither sad nor angry, just sort even-keeled and neutral about it all.

"Edward, please look at me."

He turned his head, but still seemed distant.

"If you're not ready for this, I won't push;, you know that right? I won't say or do anything you don't want me to."

"I prefer Sweet Potato Pie to Pumpkin."

Stunned. I was stunned.

"Say again?"

"I said, I prefer Sweet Potato Pie to Pumpkin Pie."

I wish I had a picture of myself just then. In my head, my jaw was somewhere on the 3rd floor while the rest of me was still in the penthouse.

"You don't have to make Sweet Potato Pie, of course. We can order it from some place, I'm sure. Or just forget it entirely."

"Sweet Potato Pie?"

"No fruit in the stuffing either! I hate that. Why ruin perfectly good stuffing with something healthy like fruit?"

It was The Twilight Zone. No other explanation for it. He was rattling off menu items while I was still trying to grasp the fact that he was willingly and apparently, happily, accepting my plan.

"It's not a lot of people, but if you want some help, I'm sure Lydia could lend a hand, or maybe she has a friend who I can hire to help out... Hey, you okay?"

I closed my jaw, focused my eyes, and nodded as quickly as I could. I wasn't about to admit that I thought he would say no - that I thought the whole thing would make him shut down and turn into a nervous wreck.

"Mhmm. Great! Sweet Potato Pie, no fruit in the stuffing. Got it."

"So, just leave the list of things you need for Lydia; she'll handle it."

"Yup, Lydia... I'm just going to start calling everyone to make sure they can come."

"Sure. Oh, I don't have to dress up for this or anything, do I?"

"You don't even have to wear shoes if you don't want to."

"Great, great. What does Emmett drink?"

"I don't know, I'll make sure to ask Rosie though, okay?"

"Thanks, beautiful."

"Welcome."

With that I got up as calmly and casually as I could, grabbed my phone from my bag on the floor, opened the closet to throw my robe over my naked body, and walked to the kitchen before frantically dialing Alice's number.

"Alice, you won't believe it!"

"Try me."

"We're having Thanksgiving here. I'm cooking and you, Jasper, Rosie, Emmett, and Jake are invited."

"There? I don't know, Bella, it's kind of a tight squeeze. Plus, can you even get a whole turkey in your oven? No offense or anything, but..."

"No, Alice, not my place... Edward's."

"You know, if you're gonna call a gal all excited this early on a Saturday, you should at least have the courtesy to..."

She didn't believe me.

"...Alice, hush. Listen. Not a joke. We are having Thanksgiving at Edward's. I just spoke with him; he's actually excited about it. I'm cooking the whole thing and you, Jasper, Rosie, and Emmett and Jake are coming."

The sound that came from her mouth only further proved that she was, in fact, an alien. Human beings simply couldn't reach that decibel. I had to pull the phone away from my ear, or risk internal bleeding. When the un-earthly noise ceased, I could actually hear her physically bouncing on the other end.

"Bella, you're amazing! How did you do it? I mean, he's actually going to have people over to his house, and he's going to eat, and talk with them, and oh... oh, man. You know this could be a complete disaster, right?"

"Alice, have a little faith. He already requested that there be Sweet Potato Pie."

"He did? Wow."

"I know," I sighed contentedly.

"You're right, by the way. I'll keep the faith. I'll also order flowers and wine. You really don't want me cooking a damn thing." Stories of Alice's "attempts" at cooking were well known cautionary tales of food poisoning and small fires. "You should call Rosie, see if Emmett can get you a turkey."

"Good idea. I'll call you later."

"Yup, bye."

My talk to Rosie was much calmer, but then again, by both of us being human, that was to be expected. She handed the phone to Emmett, who assured me he would have the best turkey in all of Manhattan delivered to Edward's place the day before Thanksgiving, along with the sausage I wanted for the stuffing. Rosie promised to bring something sweet, besides herself, of course.

"Oh, I almost forgot! What does Emmett like to drink? Edward wanted to know."

"Guinness or tequila... or both," she laughed.

"Thanks, I'll let him know. Hey Rose, have you told Emmett about Edward?"

"I did. I wasn't sure if I should have or not, but he knew I was hiding something from him, so I caved. Is that okay?"

"Ya, I think so. Edward told me it was okay to let Emmett know, so... Just curious, what was his reaction?"

"He didn't really have one. He just shrugged and admitted he was pigeon-toed until his mother made him take Irish dance lessons."

"For real? Oh Rosie, have you seen him do it yet?"

"Hells, yes! Fucking sexy as all get-out, too. Didn't hurt that he was naked at the time, either."

"Priceless."

"I know! He doesn't have to be drunk, either! He'll just get up and do a jig when asked. For a big guy, he's a graceful son-of-a-bitch."

"He's a keeper, Rosie. Free meat AND entertainment!"

"Sigh. Don't I know it..."

I finished up with Rose before texting Jake. As expected, he couldn't come, but asked for a rain-check.

I was standing in the pantry, an ever-growing grocery list in one hand and a pen in the other, when a pair of large, strong arms wrapped themselves around my waist.

"I don't see sweet potatoes on that list."

"Don't worry; I would never deprive you of pie. I'm actually quite proud that I've managed to corrupt you, Mister Protein Shake."

"Have I corrupted you at all in return?"

"Being called beautiful has inflated my ego ten-fold.."

"Is that right?"

"Mhmm."

His fingers found the tie of my robe and pulled gently. Deftly, his hands moved up my body until he was cupping my breasts. As hr kneaded them gently, I let my head fall back to his shoulder.

"That feel good, beautiful?"

"Very."

We stood there for a moment, him touching me, me enjoying it.

"I want to taste you," he whispered.

Shivers. Everywhere. I could feel myself getting wet.

"Will you let me?"

I couldn't help but moan. He was getting less timid and more confident when it came to sex, but something about his asking permission made me utterly weak in the knees.

"Was that a yes, beautiful?"

"Yes," I whimpered.

Before I could utter another word, he gathered me in his arms, walked me out of the pantry, and placed me gently on the kitchen table.

"Here?" I asked, surprised.

"I can't wait and the bedroom is too far. Spread your legs for me, beautiful."

I shifted until the arches of my feet rested on the edge of the table. My robe spread over the surface like a tablecloth, and Edward sat in the chair before me as if he were sitting down for a meal, which happily for me, he was.

One smooth hand and one rough traced a path from my ankle to my knees. He spread my legs apart further before leaning forward and kissing my inner thigh.

"Do you know you're glistening?"

"Glistening for you."

Before his mouth was lost between my legs, I heard the word "wet" and "Christ." He didn't waste time. The tip of his tongue flicked at my clit once, twice, three times, before he wrapped his mouth around and began sucking. The sounds coming out of my mouth were wanton and desperate. My moans, grunts, and whimpers only spurred him on.

He slipped one long finger into me and when I realized it wasn't the smooth digit I was used to, but instead a rough, calloused, textured finger, I cursed, my hands automatically grabbing onto my breasts and squeezing as tightly as I could. When the intensity of his actions matched the intensity I inflicted on myself, I could feel the coiling, the slow build.

What felt good before felt like fire then. The heat, which was coursing through me, was positively electric. My skin felt prickly. My face was flushed and hot. When he hummed around me, I lost the thin control I had over my body and was ready to let go.

"Come for me, beautiful."

And I did - writhing and cursing as I went. His face never left my thighs. He had a front row seat to my release. I heard him growl after his tongue took one last lap at my pussy. I was utterly spent. I felt hollow, a mere shell of myself. For no reason, other than pure delirium and contentment, a few errant tears made their way down my face.

"Happy tears?" he asked.

I nodded, not having found the ability to speak yet. He stood between my legs. I lifted my head up enough to see him bend slightly and stand back up.

"If you don't want this, tell me now."

"This?" I managed.

"I can't look at you naked, spread for me, wet, and not want to bury myself inside you, beautiful."

Raising myself to my elbows, I watched with rapt attention as he slid his hand up and down his erect length. He was so hard for me. His head was an ever-deepening shade of purple - his hand slid up and down his cock. His motions grew rougher and rougher with every pass. He angled himself at my entrance, grabbing one leg and raising it. His hands dropped and he pushed forward, his tip touching my lips.

"Tell me to stop, Bella. Tell me now."

There was no way I could. He was glorious in his need. All I could think of was how full he would make me. How his thickness would rub against my walls, eventually making me shudder around him. So I when I scooted forward, allowing his head to push past my lips, he took the hint, and in one swift move, slammed into me.

He hadn't taken me with such force since Halloween and it was utterly delicious. Bang after bang, pant after pant, he fucked me. When he lifted both my legs and rested them on his shoulders, he pushed in further, deeper. We groaned in unison at the new friction he created. I shut my eyes; suddenly the light was too light, the room was too hot and too cold. The table beneath me was too hard and yet not hard enough. I wanted more. I wanted to feel him slam into me repeatedly. I want my breath to catch with every thrust.

"From behind! Please!" I yelled out.

"No," he ground out. "I need to see you."

"Then, harder."

"Fuck, you'll be the death of me, Bella."

But he did fuck me harder. Every thrust had his pelvis slamming into my crotch. I would be bruised and sore, but I was begging for more. He was unbridled and fierce. He was wild and at my contrast requests for, "more, more, more," he delivered. Using all his weight, all his perfectly thick muscles, he pushed into me with such force it knocked the breath from me. Stars. I saw stars and bursts of light around me, then there was the sound of an animal crying out in agony before everything went silent and still.

The sounds of heavy, gasping breaths filled the room. I could feel him inside, still hard, but slowly, every so slowly, softening. There were no words, no movement other than our chests rising and falling, pulling in as much air as they could. Slowly, painfully slowly, I could feel him pulling out of me. It wasn't until his head pulled away from my slit that I could feel how impossibly engorged he was, how incredibly full I had been.

He sat down - I only knew because I heard the chair scrape against the floor. I couldn't physically lift my head, I didn't have the energy. It took several minutes before my body decided it could move again. It wasn't a graceful rise to sitting either. There were winces and groans, (not the good kind), odd angles, and very un-sexy wiggle from my aching body.

When I was upright though, I took stock: pepper shaker on the floor, check. Salt shaker broken in two, check. One panting, exhausted man, sitting naked in a kitchen chair, check. One heart-stoppingly crooked smile coming from said man, double check. The scars were there, angry and rough as ever. But, his sage eyes wouldn't look away. His extraordinary thick, muscular, and sculpted body was there on display for me, too. He wasn't beautiful, he wasn't pretty;, he wasn't handsome in any traditional definition known to man. But he was mine and he was breathtaking nonetheless.

EPOV

Bella had been cooking for about 72 hours straight. Lydia had helped as much as she could with the chopping and prepping; but the day before Thanksgiving, she was due at her daughter's house in New Jersey, where she would be staying for the weekend.

I was nervous, but not nearly as nervous as I thought I would be. It helped that, although I had never met him, Emmett already felt like a friend. It helped that Alice and Jasper were family. It certainly helped that there were not one, but two Sweet Potato Pies - and then there was Bella. Her cooking was like some elaborately choreographed dance that only she knew the steps to. I could almost tap out a beat as she chopped, mixed, stuffed, and seasoned. The constant rhythm of her moves, the confidence she oozed as she worked, rubbed off on me.

The smells that were emanating from that kitchen were nothing less than heavenly, and I couldn't help my mouth from watering every couple of minutes. No matter how many times I asked if I could help though, I was rebuked. And no matter how many times I tried to sneak a taste, she caught me, slapping my hand away. It reminded me of when Alice and I were kids. Somehow, no matter whose house we were spending the holidays in, no matter which of our mothers were cooking, mine in Boston or hers in New York, they would always catch us. Eyes in the back of their heads, our fathers used to say. Maybe all mothers had them. Maybe Bella would too, when she became a mother.

The sudden image of a little baby Bella running around, trying to sneak a taste, being caught by Mom, and shooed out of the kitchen, made me smile uncontrollably. Would she want that? Would I? Having never even considered fatherhood to be a possibility, it seemed almost sinful to think of. What right did I have to bring a child into the world? How would it work? Could it work? Of course, the answer was simple - I could deny Bella nothing. If she wanted a child, if I were lucky enough to be the man she wanted one with, I wouldn't say no - I couldn't.

I was snapped out of my daydream by Alice.

"What are you smiling at?" she asked, amused.

"When did you get here?"

"We just came in. Jasper is opening a bottle of wine. Again, what were you smiling at?"

"Remember when we used to sneak into the kitchen and try to steal a taste of something when we were kids?"

"Of course, we'd always get caught. No matter what, either your mom or mine would catch us before we could get away with it."

I bent my head toward Bella. Alice looked at me quizzically.

"Bella has eyes in the back of her head, too."

We were quiet for a moment, taking in the gravity of the statement.

"Would you want that, Edward? Do you want kids?"

"With Bella I would."

"STOP WHISPERING OVER THERE!" Bella yelled from the stove.

"Yes, Mom!" Alice and I said in unison before laughing out loud together.

"It feels so good to laugh again, Punky."

"It's good to have you back," she said, as her little arms wrapped around my waist and squeezed tight.

"I know you can't cook to save your life, Alice, but think you could pull the biscuits out of the oven? I have to keep stirring this," Bella asked from the stove.

"Be right there!" she yelled back to Bella. "Go get a drink with Jasper, okay?"

I nodded, before letting go of my little Punky, and going to meet Jasper in the living room.

Jasper and I shook hands. I had always liked Jasper, he's a good man. But our relationship was strained. He knew how tough I was with Alice over the years, how sometimes I forgot she was family, and that she always meant well. It wasn't something I was proud of but, because of Bella, I want to be better, to earn his friendship, finally.

"This was big of you, man."

"What was?"

"Having us over like this, meeting Rose and Emmett. Just letting someone new in."

"I'm trying."

"I can see that. I just... I'll just come out with it. I'm really proud of you. I don't care if it's because of Bella or not, it's just nice to not want to punch you all the time."

I laughed and it broke the tension. But truth was, I was touched. To have a guy like Jasper, a guy I respected, say he was proud of me? It meant a lot.

"Hey, I have that whiskey you like."

"Really?"

"Ya, I bought a bottle of it. I got Guinness for Emmett, and champagne for the girls."

"You know, for a guy who doesn't entertain, you're doing a good job."

I smiled. Then the bell rang and I froze. I couldn't move, I couldn't think. I must have looked panicked because Jasper immediately offered me his glass.

"Shit, man, take a breath, okay? Here, take a sip of wine."

I grabbed the glass and gulped the entire thing down. The bell rang again.

"Better?"

"Kind of?" Was I better? No. What the hell was I thinking?

"Want me to go with you?"

I nodded.

Together we walked to the foyer. Jasper went to open the door. Greetings and kisses were exchanged, and I knew I only had seconds before two more people entered into my life. Two more people whose reactions would be a mystery. I didn't know how they would react, but I had assumed any number of reactions: shock, disgust, morbid curiosity, laughter, pointing, pointing and laughing...

What actually happened was much less painful and far more surprising than I had planned for. Emmett put down the plastic bag he was holding, walked right up to me, pulled me into a hug, and said it was, "about fucking time, bro." I had no choice but to hug the guy back. Plus, he was bigger than me, and that was saying something. I guess hauling meat around all day would do that to a guy.

"It's good to finally meet you too," I said, as we let go.

Rosalie was a stunner, Bella was right. But she was no pin-up. She was too lean, too much like every other hot chick on TV - tall, blond, and skinny. Rose's breasts weren't full enough, her thighs not thick enough, her hips too narrow for me. She wasn't my pin-up girl. No one could be, though. She was smiling, but she was also staring, taking me in. Oddly, she wasn't looking at me like I was a freak; instead she looked at me like you would a painting. She kept tilting her head side-to-side, looking from different angles, taking in every detail.

"Babe?" Emmett said next to me. His voice seemed to snap her out of it.

"Huh? Oh hell. Shit, I'm sorry, Edward," she said as she walked toward me.

I put out my hand but she wouldn't have it. Instead she lifted her head to kiss me on the cheek.

"I'm really glad we're finally meeting. Thanks for this, by the way; you don't know how happy you've made Bella."

"You're welcome. And don't apologize, that went way better than I imagined. Can I get you something to drink?"

"Yes, wine?"

"Sure, I also have champagne if you'd like?"

"See, I knew there was a reason Bella liked you so much. Can we stop by the kitchen first though? I have goodies. "

Rose picked up the bag that Emmett had put down and I led them to the kitchen. Hugs and kisses all around, then Rose took out three or four wrapped things in foil. Emmett leaned into me and whispered that she had been baking for two days straight.

We left the girls, who seemed perfectly happy to be together, and walked back to the living room. At the bar, I took out a bottle of champagne, grabbed three glasses, and left it on the kitchen counter for the girls who seemed incredibly excited about the bubbly. Back in the living room Emmett had found the mini keg of Guinness, tapped it, and was on his first glass.

"This place is amazing, bro."

"Thanks. Want a tour?"

"Absolutely."

We didn't get far before I could hear Bella calling for Emmett.

"I need this bird carved, big guy!" she yelled.

"Be right there!"

We all followed him to the kitchen where Bella took the foil off the bird to a chorus of ooo's and ahh's. While Emmett carved, Jasper and I each took a dish of something and walked to the dining room, the dining room that I had never used except for my own selfish destructive needs. That it was suddenly a place of happiness and food, and even new friends, hadn't escaped my attention.

The candles were lit, the food was out, and after a simple prayer of thanks to the universe for new friends and good food courtesy of Jasper, we were ready to dig in. The food was drool-worthy. I was stuffed beyond stuffed. Absolutely everything was incredible, even the salad dressing. I knew Bella liked to cook, but that meal was memorable, and I was proud of her. I may have gloating a bit, too.

I thought that having a holiday meal again would have upset me. I was afraid of lashing out, or becoming a morose ass that no one would want to talk and eat with, but I wasn't. I enjoyed every minute. I laughed, I drank, I ate and talked, and not once did I feel awkward or out of place. It was a rush having people to speak with and share food with. I thought back quickly on the years of hiding and shying away from people. I knew there was a reason but, for the life of me, I couldn't think of it at that moment.

After dessert and pie - an embarrassing amount of pie - we waddled back to the living room. Before plopping myself back on the couch, I put some music on. Nothing in particular, just whatever was cued. Emmett had promised us a jig, but when he bowed out due the risk of projectile vomit, we all equally laughed and cringed.

When a soft song I recognized but hadn't heard for a while started playing, I did something unexpected, even for me. I stood up and asked Bella to dance with me. She blinked a couple of times before taking my hand and following me toward the windows. The city was lit up, putting on a show for us. All that mattered though, was the beautiful, tired woman in my arms.

It won't do
to dream of caramel,
to think of cinnamon
and long for you.

I could see Jasper and Emmett following suit, Rose and Alice taking their hands and being pulled in tight.

It won't do
to stir a deep desire,
to fan a hidden fire
that can never burn true.

And because I knew what was coming next, I lowered my head and sang the next words into Bella's ear.

"I know your name, I know your skin, I know the way these things begin. But I don't know, how I would live with myself, what I would give of myself, if you don't go. So goodbye, sweet appetite, no single bite, could ever satisfy..."

For all the words we had exchanged, there were three that hadn't been uttered. They were just three little words that for some reason, we hadn't found the opportunity to say. Between the anger, the tears, the humiliation, fear, and uncertainty, it was no wonder that they had been pushed aside. But just then, with Bella in my arms, with Suzanne Vega singing to us, and New York sparkling below us all the reasons disappeared.

I know your name,
I know your skin,
I know the way
these things begin...

"I love you."

But I don't know
what I would give of myself,
how I would live with myself
if you don't go.

She rested her head against my chest. "I love you, too."

It won't do
to dream of caramel,
to think of cinnamon
and long
for you.

A/N

Awwww.

If you don't know the song, check out the link, it's such a sexy little number:

http:/www(dot)youtube(dot)com/watch?v=eO_dEiN1FkE

Reviews are like warm caramel.