Twilight character names belong to Stephenie Meyer. I own Dodge and Burn.
Much love and thanks to Editor Azucena , Pre-readers BtwntheStacks and Lemonmartinis and Beta-MsKathy
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Dodge and Burn / Chapter Twenty-Five / Bigfoot Unleashed
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Side by side, Bella and Edward lie in their beach loungers facing the Mediterranean, their fingers tightly intertwined. Edward lifts their joined hands and kisses her fingers gently, smiles, then looks back towards the view.
"This is good," Bella says, stretching out her legs.
"So good," he agrees.
"What are we going to do later?" she asks.
"You know what we're going to do later," he says, grinning ear to ear.
She gives him a look over her sunglasses. "Well of course, that's a given. I meant after that."
"Go out to eat?" he suggests. "I'm sure we'll be hungry."
"True. Very hungry for sure."
She turns on her side to face him and lightly runs her fingertips along his inner arm. "What adventure shall we have tomorrow? Florence, Sienna, San Gimignano, the Cinque Terra?"
He grins happily. "I'll do whatever you want to. I'd rather just stay in bed with you all day, but I suppose we have plenty of time for that later." He pulls a piece of fruit out of her bag and polishes it on his T-shirt.
She watches him eat the pear and wishes she were the fruit, sliding against his lips, feeling his teeth press against the flesh.
His tongue trails the juice that runs down his chin. He looks over and notices how intently she's watching him. "You want a bite?" he asks grinning, holding the pear toward her.
If he only knew, she thinks before helping herself, her eyes fluttering closed in the perfection of the moment. The sweet bite melts slowly against her tongue.
She feels a finger brush just below her messy lip and she opens her eyes to see him put his thumb in his mouth and slowly pull it out.
"Sweet," he whispers.
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As they fly down the autostrade home, the most delicious feeling settles over them. There's sand between toes, tangled salty hair, and a hint of sunburn while love sizzles just under warm skin. Everything's tempered by a lazy afternoon in the sun.
He hums a tune as he drives, smiling, lost in a memory. She thinks she recognizes the melody. Is it the song he's written for her? She desperately wants to hear it, imagining it's a love letter he wrote before they got off track. Now it will be a celebration that they found their way back to each other.
She sighs and, inspired, she reaches into the bag for her camera. While he drives she starts scanning through all the pictures she's already taken in Italy. Some of them are picture postcard good.
"Do you like what you have so far?" he asks, glancing over.
"The shots from today after the swim are the best ones," she says, smiling. "You look so happy."
"Yeah, I am so happy, Isabella…because of you."
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When he pulls up to the villa and stops, she jumps out of the car and runs for the front door. He watches her get the door open and rush inside while he shuts down the engine.
Anxious, baby? He laughs to himself as he slowly saunters to the entry. The anticipation of being with Isabella threatens to overtake him, but he doesn't want to hurry this. He's already waited so long. Holding on tight to his reserve, he works his way up the stairs. He sees that the bathroom door is shut so he tentatively pushes the door to her room open, realizing he hasn't been welcomed inside until now.
For a moment he's taken aback. He'd forgotten about the website pictures of the grand canopy bed surrounded by gauzy curtains. It looks like something out of a movie.
Something else captures his eye. He takes a step toward the bed and realizes it's a framed picture on the bed stand. As he gets closer, he recognizes that it's a photograph of him from the studio shoot they did several weeks ago.
His heart speeds up realizing she packed and brought this with her before she even knew he was joining her on the trip. Something about this simple gesture and how it reflects how she was feeling then, stuns him. He reaches out and wraps his hand around the thick carved post of the canopy bed.
Isabella.
He looks down to the white covers and imagines her stretched across the linens. He thinks about all the ways he'll show her how much he's missed her. He pictures undressing her, kissing her, all the while telling her what's in his heart…
"Edward?" she calls out from the doorway.
"Yes," he replies. His gaze meets hers with the same yearning.
"I couldn't find you." She smiles shyly. "You're in my room. I thought we'd be in yours?"
"Why?"
"I don't know, I guess that room exudes sex to me now that I saw you touching yourself in there."
He loves that she's so honest, and unknowingly provocative. Just watching the way she bites her lip as she waits for his response arouses him.
"Really? I could touch myself in here, too," he teases, grinning.
"Or I could touch you," she says, walking to him.
"Yeah, I'd like that much better," he says, pulling her close.
She slides her hand down between them until it's pressed over him. Her fingers tighten over his arousal and she sighs. "Yes."
"Mmmm," he moans, closing his eyes for a moment. Slow, he tells himself, fighting his natural instincts.
He gazes at her, gently pushing her hair off her shoulder, running his fingers down her neck.
"Can I ask you something, Isabella?"
"Of course," she answers, her eyes wide as her hands move up to his hips.
He turns toward the bed stand and points at his photograph.
"Why is that picture here?" he asks gently.
She smiles sweetly and sighs. "I had a moment when I was packing."
He kisses her forehead and pulls her closer. "Were you missing me?"
She closes her eyes and nods, a look of sadness on her face. "So much. So very much."
"Oh, baby," he whispers, cupping her chin and kissing her tenderly.
When they pull apart she looks back to the picture. "I had to have you here with me, even if you weren't actually going to be here."
She runs her hands over his chest and rests her cheek against his shoulder. He shakes his head and sighs.
"I think I was going nuts at that point trying to figure out how to talk to you, how to convince you to give me another chance," he says.
"Oh, Edward." She looks up into his eyes. "I may have been mad at you when you got so hurtful, but I never stopped loving you."
"Never?"
"No, never. I'll always love you."
He sweeps her up in a powerful embrace, as if it were their first time to find each other. The kiss is a match struck-setting each other on fire. Her skins turns pink everywhere he touches, shadows of light cast from his desire.
Her gauzy white cover-up is slowly lifted over her thighs, her belly, her breasts, and then gently over her head. He sets out to kiss every new freckle sprinkled across her shoulders while she deftly unclasps his belt and pulls his pants open. When his khaki shorts are pushed down and her hand is wrapped around him, he feels the heat shimmer off her in waves.
"You want me," he breathes into her ear.
"I need you," she says. She moans as she begins to stroke him.
Determined to draw things out, he moves even more deliberately, unclasping her swimsuit top and slowly peeling it away from her breasts. The way his appreciative gaze softens makes her feel like he's unwrapping a treasure. She watches him bend to take her nipple in his mouth.
How could anything feel this good? She pushes off her swimsuit bottoms then pushes her hips against him. She wants to fall to her knees and take him in her mouth, but she wants him inside of her more. Patience was never her virtue.
He lifts her effortlessly onto the bed.
"Oh, God. Oh, God," she whispers as he crawls over her, desperation in his eyes.
"We need to go slow," he warns. "I've got a lot of lost time to make up for."
"How slow?" she asks anxiously, grasping him in her hand and rubbing him back and forth over her.
"Slow," he groans, teasing as he pulls away and pushes himself up on his knees. She undulates as he watches, seducing, arousing, her hands running over her breasts and down to her hips. She is spread wide, every part of her open for him.
"Please," she begs, her eyes dark, watching…hopeful.
He swallows hard as he holds onto his last thread of restraint. She has no idea all the things he wants to do with her.
His fingers move down between her legs and dip and stroke. "Slow, baby," he whispers. As he continues, her hands move back up to her breasts, her fingers circling her nipples.
He nods. "Yes, yes," he encourages. His fingers cause tremors, her hips rocking against his touch. He knows her body so well now and he masterfully leads her to her place of unfathomable pleasure, where she's grasping at the sheets and moaning his name.
When she unravels and climaxes while crying out passionately, she gives him her trust, her vulnerability completely unguarded as she lies open. He leans over her so that they're eye to eye. He wants to look inside her. He wants to see everything.
"I love you, Isabella," he says softly.
"Edward," she whispers, looking up at him as she catches her breath. "I love you, too." She pulls him into a kiss, and while their lips meld together, he begins to push inside of her, inch by inch. When she is completely full of him, they take a moment to let every feeling work through them. He holds his hips still as he kisses her full on again.
"Oh yes," she sighs as their slow dance finally begins. His hips purposefully rise and fall as she wraps herself around him. She can feel his energy shift with every reassurance. "You're all I'll ever want," she gasps.
His power hums, lit up as every circuit breaker flips on. She's never been loved with such passion. He's consuming her completely, and she's sure by the end there will be nothing left of her.
They tumble and reach, push hard and pull back. Their skin, slick with sweat and flushed with determination. With each stroke and staggered breath, they fight for everything they've lost until they crawl their way back into each other's hearts.
He's so high that he's flying, and she's tight in his arms.
"Isabella," he cries out as he lets go and soars. She clings onto him, her eyes full of tears as he gives her everything he has.
Against the odds, against the tides, they've pushed through the darkness. They've found the rhythm of their love once again.
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..~*~..
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Long after their climax, they're wound together in a tangle of sheets. As the time passes she considers the idea that they should never leave this bed again. Everything feels so perfect.
Edward takes a deep breath and pulls her closer.
"Happy?"
"Mmmm. I've missed this so much."
Her fingers trace across his chest, and he kisses her forehead.
"I thought I had to endure this entire trip without having you. I wasn't sure I was going to make it," he says.
"Me too," she sighs. "That night I walked in on you. I was just about to crawl on top of the bed and then…"
"Yes?" he asks, surprised at the thought of it.
"Well, I didn't move quickly enough."
"What a shame. It would have been infinitely more satisfying being inside of you."
"Yes. But I must say watching you was really hot. I was undone."
"Hmmm. Really?"
"You were magnificent. I love your body so much, and the way you move…"
He feels her rake her fingernails up his thigh. He looks down at the red trail she's marked him with and her seductive gaze. "Well, let's just say that in that moment I was thinking of you, and you were moving as well," he says.
"Moving? How was I moving?" She curls into him. As she hitches her folded leg over him, she discovers exactly how much this conversation is exciting him all over again.
"You were on top of me, doing that slow thing you do with your hips. Oh God, Isabella, the way that feels. And to see the look in your eyes, and then your breasts…"
"Go on," she encourages.
"You know I love your breasts, and how you lean over and want me to…wait, where are you going?"
She sits up and pulls away from him, but instead of getting off the bed, she shifts her body and straddles him. She smiles ever so slightly.
"I thought if you're not too tired we might try that out? The look in your eyes when you want me…I swear, it makes me wild." He can feel her anticipation as she pulls her shoulders back and waits for his response.
He smiles as his hands slide down to her hips, and he eases her closer. Watching her for a minute, he appreciates Isabella in all her glory. Her beauty is beyond just what his eyes can see: creamy skin to caress and enchanting eyes to watch, full breasts to kiss and strong shoulders that can take on him, and the world. She is full of life…she is everything to him. Even in the fading light of the room, as the purple shadows fall across the pale linens, she glows brighter than anyone ever has.
She slowly leans forward and his hands reach up, cupping her soft breasts, his tongue runs over each nipple, until his lips tighten over her. She lets out a long, low groan. Her hips start to move, all her desire working over him, seducing him.
His thighs tighten when she finally lifts her hips up just enough. He knows in the next moment she will shift and he'll be right where he needs to be. He wants the feeling again and again. He can never get enough of her.
"Take me, Isabella," he moans as she sinks down, until they are joined completely.
"I'm yours."
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..~*~..
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For dinner, they end up opening a bottle of wine and throwing together a meal at home. They eat on the patio, barefoot and freshly showered.
"Everything tastes better here," he says, as he takes his last bit of pasta.
"Really? This is nothing fancy," she says, nodding toward the spread.
"Maybe that's why. It's simple and good. Like me," he says, laughing.
"Oh, yeah. You're sooo simple."
"I think I am," he insists.
She rolls her eyes and picks up a guidebook. "I'm thinking Florence tomorrow. How does that sound?"
"Sure," he says, shrugging. "I'm easy."
"And simple," she adds, grinning.
"Are we going to the Uffizi?"
"And to see David," she says.
"Michelangelo's David? There you go again, making me compete with other men for your attention. By the way," he says, popping an olive in his mouth. "Are we done with Leonard this trip?"
"Shoot!" Bella exclaims. "I promised to call him today. I agreed that we would talk again."
Edward makes a face. "Well, you can bet that I'm coming on that get together."
"Yes, I want you to meet him."
"Well, that isn't what I had in mind. I'm going to be your bodyguard. He lays a finger on you and I'm breaking it off."
"Lovely," she says, rolling her eyes. "No, actually, I thought you should come since he will be in Jacob and my life now. It won't be a frequent thing, well not for me at least, but he will be there so you need to meet him and he needs to meet you."
Edward grits his teeth. "Great. Just great. The Italian ex-lover will be a nice mix into our assortment of challenges."
"We don't have that many," she argues.
"Maybe not. But we've got a really big one to work through and it's currently on your mantle."
She looks melancholy. "Yes, you're right. But let's not think about that now."
He studies her carefully. "Okay, not now. But when we get home we have to come to an understanding, a compromise."
"Yes, yes. You're right, a compromise" she agrees. "We will do that. But meanwhile…"
Edward raises his brows.
"Can I call him and take care of this?"
"Right now?"
She makes guilty face. "Yeah, now. I want to get it over with."
"Why don't you let me call him?" He smirks. "I mean, in case you're worried about it or something."
"Gee thanks, but I'm not that worried about it. Besides, I made it clear that I'm your woman, and I'm loyal to the man I love."
He nods reluctantly. "I guess it's okay. Go ahead."
She finds Leo in her contact list and presses the screen.
Edward watches her as she gazes into the distance waiting.
"Hi Leo," she says, her expression suddenly more alert. She pauses. "Yes, it was good to see you, too. Yes, sorry. We were at the beach all day. We just got home."
She squints her eyes at Edward and shakes her head when he laughs at her white lie.
"Well, that would be lovely, really. Thank you for suggesting that, but I was thinking that it would be nice if the three of us could get together, so you two guys could meet and all."
Edward folds his arms over his chest, and cocks his head, waiting.
"Oh, you're not. I see. Hmmm. Uh huh."
Edward reaches over and tries to take the phone, but she swings out of his grasp.
"Well, he'd like to meet you. I told you he's my boyfriend."
Edward takes her hand and slowly strokes her fingers. She looks over, distracted.
"Yes, it's serious. I'm very serious about him."
Edward nods, smiling, and then lifts her hand and gently kisses her palm. She sighs and closes her eyes.
"Yes, he's serious about me, too. Listen, can we stick to making plans?"
She feels something unexpected and glances up to see Edward slowly pulling her index finger into his warm mouth. He nips the tip with his teeth while looking at her with a heated expression.
She shakes her head at him. You're so bad she mouths.
He grins and nods.
"We could meet you in Lucca. How about at Oliver's? We know where that is. We're going to Florence tomorrow, but we could go the next night."
Edward watches frustration shadow her features. "Come on, Leo, he wants to come and I want him to as well. Put yourself in his shoes." She nods. "Naturally."
She looks over in time to see Edward's fingertips graze over her breasts.
"Oh Jesus," she breaths out, sinking down into her seat. She shakes her head. "No, not you, Leo. Sorry, there's too much going on here."
She listens for a moment, nodding to what he's saying as Edward trails his fingers up her throat and against her lips. Her legs fall open and his free hand slowly runs up her inner thigh until she catches it with her hand.
"Okay, eight. Yes. Yes. We're looking forward to it."
Edward shakes his head with stern eyes and she bites down on his finger.
"Ow!" he calls out.
She arches her brow at him. "No sorry, Leo. Okay then, eight. Ciao!"
When she hangs up, she slaps her hands against his shoulders.
"You!"
"What?" he asks with large innocent eyes.
"That was sooo not helpful, Edward. What was that anyway?"
He shrugs and takes a long sip of wine. "I don't know. I gotta learn this baby daddy management thing. Give me a break. It's new to me."
"Well, this will be an interesting dinner," she says, reaching for her glass too. "I hope you try to be kind, Edward, even if it's hard. After all, you've known about him almost all along in our relationship. He just learned about Jacob and you, and all that. He's a bit shell shocked. I don't even think he meant that attempt at a kiss. He was very emotional in that moment."
"You better be right about that, but I'm doubtful. Well, I'll be cool as long as he lays off you. If I see him making any kind of move again, I promise my martial arts training will come in handy."
She leans back in her chair and studies him.
"You know, I haven't seen this side of you before."
"Yeah, what side? The crazy one?"
"No, the competitive one."
He gives her a look. "Yeah, I'm fierce."
"Well, it's pretty hot. If I do say so."
"I'll always fight for you, Isabella. Always. This Leonard guy, might have a past with you and a fancy Italian villa, but you're mine, baby."
"Yeah?" she asks, as she scoots over close to him.
He wraps his arms around her and pulls her tight against him. "Yeah, all mine."
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..~*~..
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The Academia in Florence is full of tourists and students studying Michelangelo's work with appreciation. From the marble floors to the pale tall walls trimmed with architectural detail, everything feels grand and historic.
"Frankly, I don't see what the big deal is," Edward says, pointing up to the massive iconic sculpture.
Bella holds up her camera and takes a candid shot of Edward. "My God, the light in here. It's soft, yet harsh. Does that make any sense?" she asks excitedly.
"Not a bit," he says, laughing.
"Okay now, what were you saying while I was trying to shoot my favorite masterpiece?"
He grins at her. "I'm just not that impressed. I mean he's big for sure, but proportionally not big at all."
"What in the world are you talking about?" she asks as she gazes up at David with reverence. "He's perfect."
"Really?" Edward asks.
"Sure he is. I want to crawl up there and rub his marble ass it's so fine," she teases.
"Comments like that don't help," he warns.
"Oh, you'll have your chance, mister. There are some very fine ladies with perky marble breasts in the next gallery."
"Glad to hear it," he says, looking back up at David. "And what's with the freaky big hands? It only makes his package look smaller. I mean, any man would hope to be hung bigger than his thumb. I feel sorry for the guy. He has to stand around naked all day and hear these comments."
"And here I thought you were a sophisticated patron of the arts. You are so uncouth, talking about the size of his penis."
He shrugs. "You're right, Isabella. I'm practically a caveman when it comes to another man distracting you. I don't care if he's a masterpiece."
She reaches up and kisses him on the cheek.
"What's that for?" he asks, wrapping his arm around her waist.
"You. I love everything about you."
"Well I'm certainly bigger than my thumb."She reaches out for his hand and studies it then laughs. "I'll say, worlds bigger. But it's more than that…you're perfect in every way."
"Well, I don't know about that. I'm pretty rough around the edges and my hair would never curl like his does," he comments, pointing up at Michelangelo's masterpiece.
"But you're perfect for me."
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Edward stands at the front of the bridge and sweeps his arm dramatically across the vista. "Look, Bella, the Ponte Vecchio. This is the bridge of gold. I read it about it in the guidebook."
"Is it called that because there are so many jewelry stores?"
"Well that, and because in the 1500's the Medici threw all the butchers out so that the gold sellers would add some class to the place."
"I makes me hot and bothered when you educate me with historical facts. Keep at it."
He nods, but suddenly looks more serious. "Hey, I want to buy you something. Will you let me do that?"
"Buy me something gold?"
He nods enthusiastically.
"But I'm not really a fancy-pants gold girl, you know. I'd rather have a strand of those hand-blown Murano glass beads with all the colors."
"I bet you would. Do you think they'll have any of those on this bridge of gold?"
"I'm not sure," she admits, "but I'm sure we'll see something wonderful."
As they keep walking along the bridge, they pass by an artist set up at a small table painting miniature Tuscan landscapes in watercolor. Bella pulls on Edward's sleeve.
"That's what I'd really like, Edward. You could buy me one of those."
He smiles. "A miniature painting. I should've seen that coming."
"Look how wonderful they are," Bella says, scanning the group. She points to one of a field of sunflowers. "That's my favorite."
Edward gets the attention of the artist and points to the painting.
"You want to buy?" The older Italian man asks.
"Si, per favore," Edward says.
The artist does a hand-written receipt and carefully wraps up the painting so that it'll be protected. He moves slowly and Bella is touched by the care in how he treats his work.
She smiles widely at him and gestures to the assortment of miniature work. "Beautiful!"
His face lights up with appreciation. "Grazie, grazie!"
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They continue to explore Florence, walking along the Arno and then trailing down a small side street when Bella notices a store she wants to check out. She pulls Edward into the leather shop.
"No man bags," he whispers.
She ignores him. "Oooo, look at all the beautiful things!" She scurries past the handbags to the section of leather journals and albums in a wide assortment of colors.
"I want an album, so that I can make a picture journal of this trip."
"Yeah, I like that idea. When we're old and gray we can look through it and remember all of this."
She turns and looks at him, her eyes bright and happy. "Yes, yes, that's exactly what we will do."
She studies all the colors and styles and then picks out a forest green square album with a pebbled leather cover. "This is it," she says, clearly inspired. "This is our album."
"Perfect," he says smiling, happier than he's felt in a long time.
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They're walking a few shops further down the street when they hear music. They both stop walking to listen, trying to figure out where the impressive operatic singing is coming from.
"Is that a radio?" Bella asks.
"I don't think so, it sounds live…and near by," Edward says.
They wander back and forth on the narrow street until they figure out the singing is coming from the kitchen of a restaurant. They peek in the back window to see a chef working over a stove while he sings. Edward takes Bella's hand and pulls her to stand right under the open window where he works just as the virtuoso chef starts a new aria.
"He's amazing," Bella whispers before leaning back against the stucco wall. She closes her eyes and listens intently, a huge smile on her face.
"He doesn't even know we're enjoying this," Edward points out. "Hey. Does this remind you of anything?" he asks as he leans in toward her, grinning.
"When I first heard you playing and you didn't know I was listening?" she asks breathlessly. "One of my best moments ever!"
He gazes at her, and brushes her windblown hair from her face before kissing her. Seeming oblivious to the couple walking past them, he gently pushes her up against the wall as he kisses her again with even more fire.
"Wow," she says, letting out a deep breath.
"Oh, Isabella, what you do to me," he says, smiling.
"The feeling is mutual, handsome."
"Hey, let's see if they're open. I know we were heading to that church, but I'm hungry."
Bella loops her arm in his. "Me, too…let's go!"
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Seated at the corner table, they are sitting side by side halfway through lunch, her foot crossed over his. "I can't believe he sang just for us at our table," she says, sighing. "Do we give him a tip or something?"
"I don't know. I guess we could," Edward says. "The guide book doesn't have a section for how to handle singing chefs."
"So true," she replies.
She feeds him a tortellini and as he chews, she rakes her fingers through his beard. "Can I shave this off tonight? Now that we're kissing again you don't need it anymore."
"Ha!" he exclaims. "I knew the beard strategy would work!"
She laughs. "Why, what do you mean?"
"I remember you saying once that you had a fear of Bigfoot. So I figured if I looked like him, you might be frightened enough to kiss me again so that I get rid of the hairy look."
She sets down her wine and then gives him a puzzled look.
"Come again?"
"You don't think I look like Sasquatch now?"
"Hardly," she huffs. She takes his chin in her hand and turns his face toward her and back. "I think you look very handsome. It's grown on me, actually. I think you should keep it."
His expression falls. "What? No way! This thing itches like crazy and it feels like I have a small animal living on my face. It's going tonight!"
Grinning, she leans forward and takes a sip of her wine.
His expression lights up. "Oh, I see. I see what you're up to. You're so clever, Isabella, you and your reverse psychology. You and my sister make quite a pair."
She sighs and leans back in her chair. "I can't wait to shave you tonight. You will be shirtless, possibly pantsless, and I will wrap you in hot towels first."
"Will I get a massage, too?"
"Hmmm, good idea…a head and shoulder massage."
"Will you do it naked?"
"Naked? You're pretty spicy today, you know?"
"Sorry, but there's been quite a build up of sexual tension and now it's all coming out. I imagine it will level out soon."
"Not too soon, I hope. So yes, I'll be naked. What other special treatment do you want tonight?"
"You could talk dirty to me while you shave me. There is nothing like being aroused with a sharp blade at my neck."
"Talk dirty? That won't be too challenging. I'm always thinking dirty things when I'm close to you, so I'll just vocalize them."
He takes a long sip of his wine, squeezes his hand over her thigh, and then shakes his head. "Jesus, woman, you're my dream girl. When this is all done you're going to have to marry me….no two ways about it."
"Okay," she says before taking another sip of her wine.
He looks shocked as he realizes his misstep. Surely she understood that he was kidding.
"Isabella," he says softly, turning towards her.
"Yes, fiancé," she replies, trying to keep a straight face.
"I was joking. I mean, of course I want to marry you at some point…well, maybe. But oh my God, I didn't mean now."
She gives him a sad look. "So you don't want to marry me?"
"Well, no…but wait a minute, are you telling me that you want to marry me?"
"No, I don't want to get married. I just thought it was really cute that you sort of asked me."
She doesn't want to get married to him? He tries not to feel insulted.
"Besides, why would we get married? It's not like we're going to have kids, or own property together or anything," he points out.
"Right, right. I can't imagine getting married at my age. What would be the point? For goodness sakes, it's way too soon to even think about living together."
Jeez. It's not really that bad of an idea, he thinks.
"Yeah, can you imagine us living together?" Edward jokes. He feels his stomach twist as she rolls her eyes.
"Oh boy! You wouldn't want to live with me in my house, I'm sure," Bella says, twisting a strand of hair around her fingers. "I mean you have that really cool loft apartment."
"Yeah, where would I put my big paintings?" he says, looking anxious.
"Exactly. They wouldn't even fit in my house!" she says a little too quickly.
The waiter approaches with their check and Edward hands him a credit card. "Well, it's a good thing we got that all cleared up. I mean this is crazy talk…we just got back together."
Bella nods. "Yeah, a good thing," she says, then looks away.
As they work their way out of the restaurant and start down the street, she begins to imagine what it would be like to wake up every morning with Edward wrapped around her. She wonders if he'd bring her coffee in bed then crawl back in to hold her, like he does when he spends the night now. She grins at the thought of it and it makes her feel all warm inside.
As Edward loops his arm across her shoulder, he thinks about his loft with the cold cement floors and empty kitchen. Even on his best days he feels lonely in that space.
He imagines his biggest painting and remembers that large expanse of white wall in the meeting room of Isabella's studio. The ceiling is quite high and she only has a few framed photographs that could easily be moved.
Wouldn't his big painting look great in there?
He can't help but smile, he feels so happy at the idea of holding her every single night as she falls asleep in his arms.
.
"So where to now?" he asks, high on wine and Isabella.
"Well, did you still want to see the Novella church?" Bella asks, smiling as it occurs to her that she'd like to light a candle and say a prayer.
He realizes he hasn't been inside a church since his dad's funeral and this time instead of approaching the altar with a broken heart, he can give thanks for how much better his life is now because of Isabella.
He takes her hand and winds their fingers together. "Yes, the church. That sounds perfect, my love…let's go!"
.
.
They're happy, I'm happy...are you?
xoxo
abbie
See you next Saturday!
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