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Edward set down a bucket of paint, a tray to pour it in, and a roller.
"So just these two walls?"
"Yeah." He nodded, thumbing an invisible smudge. "These two. The other two are going to be a slightly different shade of green, really pale."
"I've never done this before," I warned, watching him empty the paint into the tray. I gingerly picked up my paint roller and dipped it.
"It'll be fine; you can't mess up," he assured me. "We can paint over any mistakes."
"Okay." I took a deep breath and made my first stripe of color across the blank white wall.
Edward backed slowly out of the room, pausing just inside the door. "It's all in your hands now," he said, smiling.
Edward had finally started building the home that he been dreaming of. For years he'd collected pictures, plans and prints, created his ideal of the perfect dwelling place. When we'd met, those blueprints had been a cherished scroll on the coffee table, something to be taken out and admired.
A wistful dream, a hopeful "one day I'll."
Much to everyone's surprise, when his grandfather passed away, he left the bulk of his estate to Edward. Carlisle Cullen the first had been a feisty, opinionated old man, known for his stubborn independence. I knew that Edward got along really well with him – they were rather close – but I hadn't realized just how tight they were until an unexpected chat one evening with Edward's sister Kate. She said that Grandpa had always been especially proud of Edward for forging his own path, and for seeking a livelihood that made him happy and not just his family.
If Edward's dad was miffed by the older man's will he didn't really show it.
So the house became a reality. Edward enlisted the help of several local contractors and builders he knew in the area and over the course of several months, raised up his home. Although home improvement was not my forte, I was over there as often as possible, helping out.
Hence today's painting project.
I worked for hours, switching my arms as they got sore. Honestly I was looking forward to the more detailed stuff, like painting the base boards. I'd helped Edward choose the colors for the few rooms he'd decided to paint. Most of them were off white with tons of woods and glass, but a couple of them – like the bedrooms – required something more.
I'd never met the man, but suddenly I wished the older Carlisle Cullen could have seen how his grandson chose to spend the money. He would have been so proud.
Edward was already asleep when I got out of the shower, late in the evening.
We'd spent the day at the new house, me painting and him doing… everything else. This was different for him, he explained over sandwiches mid way through the day.
"Usually I get a job, and I just go. My guys and I are moving within a very specific set of boundaries. The owners know exactly what they want, and apart from a couple of tweeks we suggest, that's what they get."
"But this is yours."
"Right. I've… I've been visualizing this for years and now that I'm actually seeing the tangible result, it's overwhelming. I just want to…"
"Tweek your plans." I'd glanced at the mahogany wood counter he'd been carving for a couple of days. The original had been very basic, classy but simple. What we had now was a work of art.
He'd smirked. "Yeah."
Edward wasn't that emotive generally; he didn't wear his emotions on his face or his heart on his sleeve. But sometimes, like earlier, I could see hints of what excited him – and that excited me. I gazed at him now, still except for the rise and fall of his breathing.
Yawning, I put slathered lotion on so I wouldn't feel itchy later and got into my pajamas. We usually weren't in bed by ten p.m, but it had been a long day. A good one.
"Bella."
Frowning, I rolled over, away from Edward's voice.
Yeah, I loved him. I loved sleep, too.
"I know you're awake. Come on." He poked my side.
I squirmed away. California King sized beds rocked: it was near impossible to roll out of one.
Suddenly he was on top of me, caging me with his arms and legs.
Squealing, I shot my arms out, holding him at bay. "Okay, okay I'm up! What?"
He grinned down at me, his messy hair and bright eyes making him look really young. "Time to work. I'll get you breakfast."
"Denny's?"
He screwed up his face, lowering down to kiss me. "Fine. Even though I know of much better places."
"Food snob," I murmured, turning my face. "No kissing before I brush my teeth."
He got up, rolling me back over so he could smack my butt. "Hurry."
I took a quick shower, knowing Edward was anxious to get back to the new house, and got dressed. We ate at Denny's and then headed up the hill to begin our day. I had to admit, I could see the appeal in the process. There was something very deeply satisfying about building, watching emptiness become full and chaos become order.
The original projection for the completion of Edward's house had been five months, give or take. Other factors played in to this, like weather, unexpected costs and the guys' schedule. Edward was paying Emmett and the others obviously, but they all had full time jobs that came first.
Still, it was obvious that this was a labor of love and Edward didn't mind taking his time with it.
I stood in the doorway for a few moments, watching him. He was lost to the world again; focused on the designs he was carving into what would be the kitchen counter. I loved watching him like this.
It made me want him, actually.
He'd turn me down though. His hands were filthy and likely full of splinters, and he was way too focused at the task of hand. I understood this about men, having spoken to my mother about Edward. She'd laughed and reminded me what Daddy was like when he was watching a game, or especially involved in a case at work.
"They focus on one thing at a time, baby. When it's work, it's work. But when it's you… you couldn't escape it if you tried."
I'd laughed and changed the subject, not really wanting to visualize my mom "trying to escape it". Although, I loved that my parents were so together-together. If Edward and I lasted, and I hoped we would, we both had really good examples of healthy relationships to draw from.
After a moment Edward glanced up, laying down his carving knife and cracking his knuckles.
"Hey."
"Hey," I said, crossing the room to sit beside him.
"How long ya been there?"
"Awhile," I said, running my finger over the designs in the wood. "I didn't want to interrupt you."
He nodded, getting up and bringing me with him.
"I think…" He paused, holding me at arm's length and then bringing me close. Closing my eyes and taking a breath of him, I waited for him to continue, knowing he would eventually.
I marveled at how the smells of wood shavings and varnish had become some of my favorite in the world.
"When is your lease up?" he asked.
"May."
"And… will you stay? There?"
I looked up at him. "I think so…"
We were quiet. He led me over to the window, where the sill was still a little rough around the edges. The trees outside rustled softly, rasping in the breeze.
"I'd love you here."
It took me a moment to hear what he'd said, and then another to absorb it.
He ran a hand through my hair, and then let go.
I turned around, seeing both him and the house differently.
His face was often the same, the mellow expression of acceptance and chillness I'd come to know. I'd even come to sort of love it, knowing that he was a master of keeping himself protected and private. His eyes though, those were his tell. I wondered if he knew.
He played poker a lot, and he won a lot. Obviously he was good at being plain faced.
But the guys he played with didn't know him the way I did, didn't talk to him about the sorts of things I did.
Didn't know, perhaps, that his eyes crinkled a little at the corners, or how they flickered back and forth between mine.
"I can see us here," he added. "Together."
Slowly, I nodded. "I… should talk to Alice and Rose. Let them know."
A tiny smile.
"And probably my parents. My dad's isn't going to like the thought of me shacking up with my boyfriend." I smiled, running my fingertips beneath the hem of his shirt, feeling his skin.
He stepped closer, bracing his arms on the empty window frame, framing me. "When will you know for sure?"
"I already know for sure."
The way he smiled, how I felt; I knew I'd made the right choice.