Chapter Five

Wild Thing, You Make My Heart Sing

It is fair to say that in that very moment Edward Cullen's heart was stolen by Isabella Swan; as they sat at the scrubbed maple table, in the Chief's overly warm kitchen on Forest Lane in Forks, Washington. Edward felt a fizz, a heat, a fullness in his chest. Although father and daughter did not notice, he heaved a deep breath and pulled away from the table; sitting with his back flush against the horizontal slats of the kitchen chair. It was as though he had to give his body room, room to breathe. Without realizing it, his right hand released his fork and came up to rub the throbbing in his chest, to calm the unexpected palpitations that had snuck up on him.

Unaware of the deep change that was happening inside Edward, Isabella and her father smiled at each other as Charlie reached over and clasped her small hand in his. "You're entitled to follow your dreams, my girl. Don't you know that? Let me see what you've got out there in that garage."

Nervously smiling, Isabella nodded her head and she and her father left through the kitchen door, forgetting that Edward was even there. As he watched them leave Edward did not move from his spot, instead he stared at the open doorway, the rectangle of empty space, the place she had last been.

Edward felt a momentary pang of fear, the power of these strange new emotions were overwhelming; but there was a quaint sweetness to it too, a painful ache in wanting something, finally wanting something so badly that it was a need. Yes, he wanted this girl with the big brown eyes, this girl, with the sable hair, this girl with the curvy body, this girl with the smirk and the skittish eyes, this girl who didn't flirt with him, this girl with the attitude and the contradictions and the pipe dreams who was still so very young, still trying to find herself.

He had no idea why he wanted her, he just did. It was as inexplicable as the rosy dawn and the purple dusk, as majestic as the change of seasons. He wanted to talk to her and see her laugh. He wanted to wipe the disdain for him that was lying just beneath the surface of her smiles. He wanted her to look at him with admiration. Not the way the others did, as they admired the Edward they thought they knew; but with admiration and a true understanding of him.

Make no mistake he wanted to fuck her. He wanted to fuck her deep and fuck her long. But he wanted her to see him, to understand him, to like him and to truly know him. And he knew in his heart that she was already half way there. She and her father both had something instinctive about them. An insight into who he was and they were not fooled by the image he wanted to project. All he needed to do was to make her see that other side of him, the side that no one, not even his father saw. He knew for sure that she was the one he had been looking for.

The way Edward's head was swimming, images of being with Isabella clouding his thoughts, he could barely breathe. He got up and went to the sink to grab a glass and drink some water. He saw the silhouettes of Isabella and her father as they moved around in the dimly lit garage door opening. By this time they had been out there for at least ten minutes. He wanted to join them, enter into that secret haven, where she kept the things that meant the most to her. More than anything he wanted to go in and have her show him that part of herself. The part that housed her wants, her dreams, her desires. But he hesitated at the kitchen door. He pulled himself back from walking across the yard and into the door. He thought about the two of them, father and daughter, and he questioned whether he should intrude; finally deciding that he would not. He would wait for Isabella to invite him into her secret world, because he wanted her to want him to see her too.

In that moment Edward became a better man. It was one of the few times that he thought about her and what she would want, her choices and put them ahead of his wants. He decided to make better use of the time alone. In that kitchen on Forest Lane he started to plan how he would go about winning Isabella Swan.

#

When the Chief and Isabella returned to the kitchen, Edward was sitting exactly where they had left him minutes before, looking as though nothing had changed, when in fact his whole world had been turned upside down.

Charlie scraped the legs of the chair over the linoleum as he sat down. "I'm sorry, Edward, that was pretty rude of us. But I just had to see what means so much to my little girl."

"No problem, sir. I understand." Edward was calm, nothing like he was just minutes before. "I understand perfectly."

"Thank you, Edward." The Chief and Isabella started eating the now cool lasagna. "How is your father, Edward? I haven't seen him round these parts for some time."

"He was just here last week visiting Uncle Carlisle. He's well, I guess. Do you know him?"

"Not very well, but I've known him for a long time, you know; even before your uncle moved here. You were no more than three years old when there was a string of robberies in this area. Your basement was broken into and it fit the profile of the robberies around here. I drove up there to interview your mother and father. Your mother was from this area, she was a lovely lady; invited me to dinner on quite a few occassions. She kept a lot of herself hidden. Not secretive, mind you, just apart. You remind me of her in some ways."

Edward cleared his throat. "Dad said the same thing a few days ago, said I reminded him of her."

Isabella turned watchful eyes on him. "You are a little bit separate from the action. Even though you're involved, you seem like a spectator." She mused.

Edward's cheeks grew warm under the two pairs of eyes. Never had he felt so exposed. "I guess because I'm quiet it may seem that way."

Isabella shook her head. "That's not what I meant. I don't think you're overly quiet. I think you are mostly in your head, planning your next move. I don't think you're ever completely in the present." She observed sagely, her eyes fixing on his with a curious gaze.

Edward cheeks colored even more, feeling as though she could see him and all his nefarious plans. He was more than a little bit guilty and worried that she or Charlie would see it in his face. He shrugged the thought aside and replied with an even tone. "Maybe so." he conceded. "I guess I like to be prepared for whatever comes my way."

"That's nothing to be ashamed of." Charlie responded. "Making plans and looking to the future is what makes successful people successful. But just a word of advice, son, enjoy the things you have now, because the present soon becomes the past and it's the saddest thing when you realize you wish you'd really taken the time to appreciate something when it's gone for good."

Isabella reached across the table and squeezed her father's hand, understanding that he was referring to her and her mother. "You'll always have us, Dad. Always."

Again, Edward felt as though he was intruding on a very special moment between father and daughter. The Chief laughed. "Isabella, Edward will peg us both for saps. I'm afraid that he'll start thinking of me as a wimp."

Edward was quick to respond. "Not at all, sir, I do understand what you're saying. Make the most of what you have now, because it may not last. I think my father hinted as much when he was speaking of my mother yesterday."

"You're father always struck me as a wise man, Edward. Listen to his advice and I'm sure you'll do alright."

The kitchen was silent as they finished the meal. The chief was thinking about his ex-wife, wondering if there was the slightest chance that she may come to Forks to visit their daughter. Isabella was pondering the romantic possibility of moving to Paris, living in a dreary attic, existing on crumbs and painting all the livelong day.

And then there was Edward, who for the first time in a long time was only living in the moment; enjoying the warm comfort of Chief Swan's kitchen and Isabella's good food. He lifted his eyes every so often, just to stare at Isabella as she sat there, lost in her own world, pondering her future.

#

EPOV

Finally, Chief Swan got up and left us alone. "That was a delicious meal Isabella. You're feeding me too well. I think I've gained at least ten pounds since the summer." And rubbing his belly, he headed to the living room and I offered to help Bella clean up after dinner.

"No, no. It's okay, you're the guest. Go and join my father. Watch some TV, I'll be done here in no time."

In all honesty, the last thing I wanted to do was to join Chief Swan in the living room. "Isabella, I'd prefer to stay and help you, if that's all right?" I started to clear the dishes from the table.

She shrugged as she covered the lasagna and put it in the fridge. "Sure, I guess. I'll wash and you can dry." She then tossed me a kitchen towel which I slung over my shoulder. After I dried a couple of dishes I offered a different solution.

"Bella?"

"Hmm?"

"I think I should wash the dishes. Then you can dry and put away since I have no idea where anything goes."

"Always got to be in charge, huh Cullen?" She shook her head teasingly as we switched spots in front of the sink.

"Is that a bad thing?" I asked. "Me, liking to be in charge?" I passed her a rinsed plate and she wiped it off and stacked it on the counter as I passed her another.

She glanced at me with a rueful smile. "I'm not used to it you know. It's hard to have someone else make decisions for you when you've been making your own choices for most of your life." I kept washing and she kept wiping and we talked. The shushing sound of the running water drowned out the noise of the television show Charlie was watching. It was the first time I'd spent time just talking to her, not thinking about other things. Well not thinking too much about other things.

"So, you've made most of your decisions?" I asked.

"Yup. In big and little things. My mom always let me make most of my decisions. She said it makes you mature. In New York I decided where I would go to school and how I'd get there. I went to St Stanislaus, it was within walking distance and I loved it. Mom wasn't too happy about me choosing a Catholic school, but she agreed. When I got to high school I switched to private school. I decided what classes I would take. I've always made my own choices in clothes and since I did most of the cooking I even decided what we'd eat most of the times. But since coming out here to live with Ch...Dad, he's made lots of choices for me. Some of it I didn't really like…" She walked away to put a stack of dishes in the cupboard.

"Such as?" I asked her when she was next to me again.

"Well… don't tell Esme, but I really did not want to go over there this summer and make preserves and help her can them. I fought Charlie so hard on that one. But he won and I learned something new and I met Esme and Dr Cullen so it turned out okay." She laughed. "Then I did not want to volunteer at Twilight Time, the old folk's home. But Dad made me. I needed community service for my college applications and I asked Dad if I could work down at the police station. He said that it would be too much for my girlish sensibilities."

"Really?"

"Yeah." She huffed. "Like crime in Forks is rampant. Hah! I've seen much worse just looking out my apartment window in New York. But Dad apparently thought I would run and hide if he brought in a naked drunk or a two dollar prostitute or a scruffy thief. Anyway he won that round too. I couldn't very well get hours at the station if the chief said no. So I had to work at the home, where there's plenty of excitement every day." She said sarcastically.

I chuckled, "I bet there's no two dollar hookers there."

She laughed too. "Nope. But there is some nudity. I know, it sounds gross. But it is a little exciting when one of them decides to make a break for it and they run outside, tearing their clothes off as they go. Believe me it's not a pretty sight! But it is fun watching them trying to scale the walls, when the gate is right there. It's like some crazy version of a prison break. Only in slow motion."

We laughed until tears were running down our faces. After the giggles died down she continued. "And now, honestly, I like working with some of the old people. Mr. Andrews is a riot. He uses his wheelchair like a weapon. And I love Miss Loring. She's the sweetest. I talk to her a lot. She was one of the first female reporters for the Seattle Post. She never married, never had any kids of her own. When she got sick and couldn't walk anymore some distant cousin's son put her here. But she's got the best heart and she's not bitter. She really likes socializing."

"That's nice, that it's working out, I mean. It seems that your dad makes pretty good decisions for you."

"That's just what he would say. But I like to make my own choices, even if it's a bad one. You learn life lessons that way."

"Sure. But as you can see, you can learn lessons from everything. Even the decisions someone else makes for you."

"True. I probably would have never met Esme nor Ms Loring without Charlie's interference. Everything was going great and then Charlie just had to …" She stopped and bit her lip, and I noticed that there was a little color in her cheeks. As she turned and put away the last clean cups, I dried my hands.

"What else?"

"Huh?"

"What else did Charlie make you do? You were gonna say something else, weren't you?"

"It's not important." She picked up a kitchen towel and started to wipe the wet counter top. "You know what? You're really easy to talk to. It's actually surprising. The first time I saw you talking with James you struck me as really stuck up. But one on one, you're not that way. You're a good listener. It's a talent. You make me forget that it's you I'm talking to. I just run on and on with my big fat mouth…"

She quieted her rambling when I held her by the shoulders and peered into her eyes. "Isabella, what were you going to say?"

She licked her lips and looked away. "I can't remember."

I let my hands slide down from her shoulders to her elbow and then to her wrists, where I shackled her between my thumbs and fingers. Her wrists were so slight and delicate, so fragile. Such a simple movement made me hard. She was so tiny in my arms, I felt a rush of power. It would feel so good to have her under me, moving, sighing.

"Isabella? What was it?"

She was quiet for a moment and I thought she wouldn't answer me. "You." She said, staring beyond my right shoulder, not looking at me.

"Me?"

"Yes. He asked you to come here for dinner tonight. I yelled at him. I was so angry, I told him he'd better cancel cause I wasn't going to be here." She whispered.

"Why?" My heart thumped, her words were cruel, but her voice was so soft and hesitant. I wanted more from her.

"I didn't want you here." She said simply.

She didn't want me. Doesn't want me here. And now it hurt, I couldn't believe how much my heart ached. But just then she looked at me, her big brown eyes unwavering, and I knew why. But still I had to ask. "Why?"

She stared into the heart of me. "Because I know you want to do things to me." She accused softly, her voice barely a whisper.

"How do you know that?" I whispered back, bound to her in the hushed exchange of words.

"The way you look at me. I know it sounds crazy but you look like you're hungry; like you want to eat me."

"I do want to eat you." I whispered my guilt.

She gulped and shook her head, all the time looking at me with her soft shining eyes. "You can't do that." She gasped out in shock.

"Do you know what that means, Isabella?"

She closed her eyes, her long lashes fanning her cheeks. She was so very beautiful, and I wanted her. "No." She swallowed. "Maybe."

I couldn't help it, she was so close. My lips had a mind of their own, and they closed the distance between us. My lips merely brushed hers, feeling a soft shudder go through her, as she trembled beneath my mouth. I whispered, my lips still touching hers, "It means I want to taste you." The tip of my tongue rubbed her petal soft pink lips, "Everywhere."

She stiffened and pulled out of my arms. "No. I can't. You can't."

"Why not?" I whispered as I walked closer, hoping to hold her in my arms again and taste her kisses.

She backed up edging closer to the kitchen door. If the chief turned his head just a bit he would see us, see me, advancing on his daughter like a lion, ensnaring a gazelle. My better sense prevailed and I stopped and went to stand by the sink again, out of the Chief's line of sight. Isabella remained by the door, her body visibly relaxing a bit now that I had moved away. She was more relaxed but I was on fire. The thrill of the chase, this girl, this girl, THIS GIRL was all I needed.

I asked her again. "Why can't I?"

"Because I'm not going to be your next. That's why."

"My next?"

"Yes." She almost hissed at me. "Your next conquest. The next girl you use and toss aside. I know you just want sex from me. I'm better than that."

I nodded. "You are better than that. I promise you I won't do that. I would never use you. I like you. A lot." As I uttered the words I already sensed defeat. She was not going to believe me.

"Yeah, well, I'm sure you've said those words before to far too many other trusting girls." She sneered.

My heart thumped at the unfair judgement. "Never. I never have promised anything I couldn't deliver. Believe it or not Isabella. My girlfriends all wanted what I wanted. I didn't have to promise them anything beyond that."

Where was the Isabella of a few minutes ago? All the soft sweetness was gone and in its stead was this little wild thing, this spitfire. She stood there, hands on hips, speaking her mean words, looking at me with derision. And it hurt, so much. "Of course you didn't. You're the great Edward Cullen, aren't you? You just snap your fingers and they drop like flies. Well, just so you know, I'm not going to drop for you. I'm not going to drop anything for you." And with that she turned on her heels and walked out of the kitchen.

Leaving me standing there alone.