STILL WATERS
/¯\/¯\/¯\/¯\/¯\
CHAPTER 2
SATURDAY, MAY 22
"Mountain therapy," night 2
Dear claw-foot tub, please forgive me. I might have underestimated you. I guess I didn't realize how long I've been sitting on my ass instead of stretching my legs. Writing papers is exhausting work, but it doesn't actually count for exercise, as every muscle in my body reminded me this afternoon. Thank God for ibuprofen and hot water . . . and lavender bubble bath. I don't think I'll have trouble sleeping tonight.
And who knows? Maybe I'll even have a dream about my sweet, kind, quiet mountain man. Mmmm.
.
.
.
If I did have that dream about Edward, or anyone else for that matter, I certainly couldn't remember it at 5:45 a.m., when my alarm woke me. The worst part? I couldn't even blame the "powers that be" for this morning's rude awakening—this was on me, a self-inflicted wound.
Perhaps I'd been a wee bit overeager when I came off the trail yesterday, but I've never claimed patience as one of my virtues. Probably should've waited and reflected and given my sore muscles a vote before charging into the office to meet Rosalie, who couldn't have been more delighted to add the rising dawn hike onto my schedule for the following day. She'd smiled warmly and said how thrilled she was that the fresh mountain air was already working its magic on me.
Mountain air, my ass.
Wasn't the big fat joke on me when my real reason for being awake was nowhere to be found in the lobby? And it wasn't just that Edward was holding out until 6:29 again so as not to have human interaction; he wasn't coming. I knew it the moment I pushed open the door and heard the swarm of laughter and congratulations. The new daddy was surrounded, a blond head bent over his iPad, jubilantly showing off pictures of his daughter's first twenty-four hours on earth.
He was cute, too, this middle brother, Jasper, but wow . . . could three brothers possibly look any different? Emmett with his dark, wavy hair, muscular build, and a big, booming personality to match; Edward, the shy, green-eyed, bronze-haired baby, a tall tree with a solid trunk and sturdy branches, honed to perfection by the mountains he loved; and the middle son, this chiseled blond, who seemed to invite people in with his gentle smile. Or maybe Jasper was just sleep-deprived.
But he was here, dammit. And so, unfortunately, was I. For a couple of shame-filled seconds, I seriously contemplated sneaking out and playing hooky. And if not for fucking Mike the Mouth, I might have done just that.
"Hey . . . you!" He offered me a wide smile, which I returned, because I suddenly found it wildly amusing I'd never told him my name and he had no idea what to call me.
"I gotta . . ." I pointed toward the breakfast buffet and grunted out "coffee" so he understood why I couldn't possibly stop to chat.
Unfortunately, Mike was no less dense than yesterday, and he trailed after me like a puppy. "So, I looked for you last night at dinner."
Seriously? I thanked God and the Cullens for room service.
"I was beat." I filled the cup and went about my coffee routine hoping he'd go away if I ignored him.
He didn't.
"What time will you be eating tonight?" he pressed.
I brought the hot coffee to my lips, closed my eyes, and breathed the blessed aroma into my lungs. There was zero chance I would be dining with this guy . . . ever, but I didn't have the energy to start deflecting now. We had hours to go yet.
"Don't tell me you're hungry for dinner already, Mike?"
I turned toward the smooth, silky voice approaching Mike from behind. Jasper clapped his hand on Mike's shoulder and gave him a friendly but meaningful leave-the-girl-alone jiggle.
Thank you, kind sir.
"No, I . . ." Mike showed the decency to at least look a little sheepish for hitting on me before sunrise. "Hey, congratulations, Jasper."
"Thanks, man." Now that he was closer, I could see the sparkle in Jasper's clear blue eyes. Tired or not, the middle brother was a people person. I wondered what it must have been like for Edward growing up with two brothers who both seemed to thrive in crowds, whereas he so clearly did not.
"Hi there. I'm Jasper." He extended his hand, and I bobbled my coffee cup to free up my right hand.
Much to my delight, Mike mumbled some excuse and shuffled away. I wasn't sure if it would be cool to thank Jasper for the favor.
"You must be Isabella. Welcome to WMR. I'm sorry I missed your first day."
"It's Bella, and I think becoming a father is a pretty good reason to miss a day of work. Congratulations."
"Thank you. Hmm, coffee . . . I think I'll join you." Jasper cast a furtive glance around the room before settling his cup under the spout. "Please don't tell the green tea; it has a nasty jealous streak."
I had no choice but to giggle while he emptied three sugar packets into his coffee and swirled a big gulp of cream on top.
"Did you get any sleep at all?"
Jasper chuckled, and that easy grin settled on his face again. "Not that I can recall. But I couldn't let my baby brother get too comfortable leading my sunrise hike."
"Something tells me you don't have to worry too much about that."
Jasper's lips had just met the rim of his coffee cup, and he cocked his eyebrows at me before lowering his cup to the saucer. "You don't think so?"
My cheeks heated, and it wasn't from the coffee. "He just seemed like . . ." Fuck, this is why you don't like talking to people, remember? How to do this diplomatically . . . Surely his brothers know the guy is a bit shy. "I mean, he was nice and everything—don't get me wrong. But it seemed like maybe he'd have been happier if . . ."
"If he'd been alone?" Jasper added a wink at the end to let me know he'd been yanking my chain.
I let out a sigh of relief. "Something like that."
"Mmhmm," he agreed. "That's pretty much what I'd expected, too . . . which is why I was so shocked when he told me last night to take my time coming back to work."
Jasper smiled as if he knew something. Was there something to know—other than his little brother was hot?
Act nonchalant! "Oh yeah?" I lifted my cup practically to my nose, attempting to cover my smile and mad blush.
Jasper pretended to study his coffee, but he was a trained professional, and he saw my response, all right. He drew in a long sip of his coffee and grimaced as if he'd just chugged an entire bottle of cough syrup. "Blech! Now I remember why I stopped drinking coffee."
I tried not to move a muscle while curiosity silently killed me again and again. I was dying to know what else mountain man might have shared with his brother, but I'd already given enough of myself away.
Jasper set down his coffee and scanned the buffet table. "I need something to get this taste out of my mouth." Reaching for a cherry Danish, he slapped his belly and said, "In for a penny, in for a pound," before snarfing the whole thing down in three bites.
The giggles got me again. Here was this obviously fit man, who probably hadn't eaten a Danish in his whole adult life. "I wouldn't worry too much. You'll probably work it off."
"Mmhmm, and so will you. Let's go, Bella . . . you're riding up front with me. My brother made me promise to keep my eye on you."
.
.
.
Pleasure reading. Now, there was a concept. For the first time in five years, there was nothing I had to read for school, and it had simply never occurred to me to bring a book to read just for the joy of it.
Tired, sweaty, and stinky from my hot yoga class, I popped into the cozy, book-lined "library" off the main lobby to grab myself a bubble bath companion. I had big plans for tonight—a long, luxurious soak followed by a fat cheeseburger with fries. Hell, I'd earned it.
I scanned the shelves for some sense of order. Someone had attempted, at some point, to separate fiction from non-fiction and even divide each side into broad category headings using index cards, but Barnes and Noble this was not.
Out of habit, my gaze roamed the shelf labeled "Classics." Jane Austen, Virginia Woolf, Sylvia Plath. Oh, hello, syllabus.
Wait, what was this?
Go Set a Watchman? Oh, hell no! The paperback was off that classics shelf and in my hand so fast, I hardly registered its heft as I moved toward the unclassified fiction shelves. Lee, Lee . . . where the hell are the Ls?
For that matter, where the hell was any kind of alphabetical filing system? This fiction section was a trainwreck. The "leave a book" rack was understandably disorganized, but the rest of the bookcases had no such excuse. How the hell could anyone hope to find anything in here?
I stared up at the shelves, and all those disorganized books stared back at me. I could practically hear them crying out for organization. Yes, my friends, you can count on me to restore your dignity.
With no stepladder or chair in sight, I could only reach as high as the second shelf, but I had to start somewhere. I pulled down the entire row of books and splayed them out in an alphabetically correct semicircle, then repeated the process with shelves three and four. Soon, the books were stacked around me five and six high, all meticulously arranged by author's last name, except for the handful I'd set aside as possible vacation reads.
The world slipped away as I reached for the next row and the next . . .
The piles around me grew. Old favorites like The Corrections and The Time Traveler's Wife, books that made me sigh as I thumbed through the pages; new titles I had yet to devour: the new Margaret Atwood book, that series about the two women friends from Naples, and the Alexander Hamilton biography causing so much stir on Broadway—what the heck was that doing in fiction anyway? I forgot myself among the stories until a hushed gasp from across the room startled me out of my book coma.
I whipped my head around toward the door, where stood an equally startled Edward. His wide eyes took in the piles of books scattered all over the floor. He blinked a few times, held up his hands in surrender, and whispered, "Sorry," as he backed out of the library. The door clicked quietly shut behind him.
Crap. I'd scared him. Again.
I popped up from the floor and tiptoed through the sea of books, picking my way to the door and yanking it open.
Jeez, mountain man moved quickly! Or maybe this was his step-away-from-the-crazy gait.
"Edward! Hang on!"
He spun around. Aside from the sunglasses pushed up onto the top of his head, he was fresh from the trail. Well, not fresh as in clean, but fresh as in, he hadn't even plunked down his backpack yet. As in, sweat-soaked and rough and dirt-caked from a hard day's work. Mountain manly. Day-umm.
And I was no cleaner myself, I remembered a beat too late, as Edward's gaze traveled down my yoga tank. My hair had to be a scuzzy pile of black straw by now. My only saving grace was that he couldn't smell me from that far away—probably.
"I'm sorry, Isabella. I can come back another time. It wasn't important."
"Would you call me Bella, please?"
He gave me a small smile. "Sure. Have a good evening, Bella."
"Were you looking for something in particular?" I asked him, pointing my thumb over my shoulder toward the books.
"Oh, uh, not exactly." He hitched his backpack higher onto his shoulder. "I was just gonna browse a bit." Be still, my heart. Mountain man is a book browser.
"Yeah, me too," I said.
His eyes crinkled at the corners. "That was you browsing, huh?"
"Well, that's how it started . . ."
He burst out laughing first, and I quickly followed. I could feel the hot blush filling out my cheeks, and I probably should've ended the embarrassing exchange. I definitely should've been happy he was standing so far away. But all I could think about was the shiver that rippled down my spine while he was looking at me and how much I didn't want him to stop.
All the better when he folded his arms across his chest and teased me. "Uh-huh. That's what they all say."
"In my defense, the books were out of order."
Could he see my nipples punching through my silly little tank? Should I cross my arms? What if he wasn't looking, and that just drew attention to the zone? Would that be a bad thing?
"Out of order books? Hmm, that does sound serious."
Jesus, was he flirting? The guy who'd barely said three words the whole time on the trail? Hell, I knew I was.
"Oh, don't worry. I've got it all under control now."
That beautiful smile settled on his lips again. "Yes, I could tell."
"Hey, those books may not be on the shelves, but they are all in alphabetical order by author's last name. Well, all but the top shelf. I was just about to come out and look for a chair or something."
"Oh yeah? Maybe I could help. I do have a few inches on you."
Oh, how I wish you did, Edward. Any of his inches on any part of me would do for starters, and I must have spent a few beats too many enjoying that visual. Now it was Edward's turn to blush.
And then he backpedaled. "I'll go get you a chair."
I didn't want a chair; I wanted his company, craved it, in fact, with a ferocity that nearly knocked the wind out of me. But how to remain cool and not send the young man running for the hills again?
"Oh, I'm sure you can reach everything with an easy stretch." I smiled my most encouraging smile.
He started toward me. My heart rate picked up. Alone in the library with Edward.
With a candlestick. Or was it a dagger? And where was Professor Plum?
Speaking of murderous, I took a quick test-whiff of my armpits. Whoa.
"Hey, um . . ." As much as it killed me, I held up my hand.
Ever vigilant, probably as the result of an employee training session or two, Edward stopped dead in his tracks. "Something wrong?"
"I just wanted to warn you . . ."
"Okay?"
"I smell pretty bad."
His smile came quicker this time. "I've been cutting through scrub for the last six hours. I doubt anyone smells worse than I do. You're damn lucky I have a shirt on, or you might have fainted already."
I stared at his chest, and my mouth dropped open while I pondered him shirtless. Yes, I think you are correct about the fainting.
"So, what are you saying? Our odors will cancel each other out?"
"I'm saying, who cares? Let's go put some books on some shelves."
To prove his conviction, Edward pushed past me and held open the door. Chivalry was far from dead here at WMR, even if it stank a bit. I followed his lead to my work space. He shrugged off his backpack and ran his hand through his hair.
"Wow, this is impressive," he muttered.
"Having second thoughts?" I couldn't blame him. The mess was even bigger than I'd realized. Most of the floor was covered in books.
"Nope, I don't scare that easily. Let's go."
And go we did. Without a single complaint, he reached up and snagged the books off the top shelf, then let me direct traffic until we'd made quick work of the whole lot. The only problem now was that I'd lost my excuse to keep him there.
"Thank you. That would've taken me hours by myself."
"My pleasure. But you know"—he perused the shelves—"I think there's more work to be done here."
I could barely contain my smile. "Oh yeah? What's that?"
"Well, for one thing, it would be helpful if we could arrange these by genre. For instance, I'm a sci-fi reader, and they're all mixed in with . . . romance." His lips curled into an adorable little scowl.
"Oh, that is gross."
"I know, right? So . . . if you have some free time . . . another time . . . we should probably, you know, take another stab at this. For the sake of the other guests."
Holy shit, did he just ask me for a date? I could not think of anything that thrilled me more than another library date with my mountain man, who right now looked as though he would do anything to pull that string of words back inside his mouth.
I gave him the most encouraging smile I could arrange on my face and answered, "I'll see if I can clear some time on my busy schedule."
With that major hurdle out of the way, he nodded slightly and let out a relieved breath. "So, what kind of book were you browsing for when I so rudely interrupted you?"
"Something light . . . you know, bathtub reading?"
He quickly averted his gaze. "I don't know that genre. I'm more of a shower guy."
Gee, thanks for the imagery. "You read in the shower? That is impressive."
In profile, I could see him biting the inside of his cheek. "Speaking of which . . ." He pulled a Robert Heinlein off the shelf, tucked it inside the outer pocket of his backpack, and lifted the bag onto his shoulder. "I sure hope this one's waterproof."
"Yeah, good luck with that."
We were saying the awkward, long goodbye, but I loved that he was lingering, too.
"I hope Jas took good care of you this morning. I mean, not that you needed babysitting or anything, just . . ." He shook his head.
"Yes, Mike was a pain in the ass—again—and Jasper was great. Thank you for giving him the heads up."
"Sure thing. He'll keep an eye out for you the rest of the week."
"Yeah, I think I'm done with the sunrise hikes."
"Oh?" Edward frowned as if I'd just insulted him personally. "That's too bad."
"I know. I mean, the mountains are spectacular, and who can argue with a great sunrise, but I'm really not much of a group person."
He chuffed. "Nor am I."
He was doing just dandy one-on-one, though. Another reflection best kept to myself. "Speaking of sunrises, is there a decent trail you can recommend for me to take on my own tomorrow?"
"Absolutely not," he answered sternly. "That wouldn't be safe."
"Ah, okay. No big deal, then. I can just walk on the treadmill and gaze out over the vista."
His whole upper body crumpled with pain, as if I'd shoved a knife into his belly and twisted the handle. "The treadmill? We actually have treadmills here? That's horrible."
"It's not so horrible. I do it all the time at school."
"This isn't school; it's a mountain resort. And it's spring!" He looked away for a few seconds until he had his scorn under control. "Hey, what if you . . . I don't suppose you'd wanna . . . nah, it's a terrible idea."
Color me intrigued. "What would I not want to do?"
"Never mind. You'd be bored out of your mind."
"Doing . . .?"
He fought with himself for a few tortured moments before giving in. "I'm clearing this trail over at Franklin Notch tomorrow. I can't promise you a 'bountiful brunch buffet'"—he air-quoted—"but I can make you the best turkey and Swiss sandwich in New England, and I can guarantee you won't have to deal with any unwanted attention. Just you, me, and the mountain. We don't even have to talk. Come with me?"
"No talking all day?" That sounded extreme, especially since I'd finally loosened him up.
Cue that gorgeous smile again. "Whatever makes you happy, Bella."
This made me very, very happy. "Just tell me when and where."
Sigh. It's been so lovely to hear from you guys again! Thanks for keeping me on your alert list and stopping by to say hello! There really is nothing quite like posting a new E/B story. MWAH! Your reviews are speeding up my posting schedule, just so you know. *wink* XXX ~BOH
