15

Rosalie doesn't miss a trick, even with two taps pouring at once. "Well, well, well. Don't you look well rested?"

"I suppose you could call it that," I answer, moving behind her to add, "considering we barely left the bed all day yesterday."

"Ha! That explains the glow."

I doubt she's exaggerating. I'm not great at hiding my feelings anyway, and I'm sure I'm broadcasting my bliss louder than the fire alarm at my old dorm.

"Where's that new girl?"

"Ugh." Rosalie shuts off the taps. "She was a disaster."

"Oh no. What happened?"

"You wanna pour me a Mountain Dew and a Red Bull?" Rosalie is perpetual motion, delivering the beers, wiping down a vacated spot, reaching for an open bottle of Chardonnay. "That girl couldn't pour her way out of a cardboard wine box. Emmett had to eat three bar tabs during Happy Hour on Saturday. She didn't last to the end of the shift."

"I'm so sorry. You should've called me!"

"Pshh. Emmett pulled Angela from the floor. We managed fine. And you… got to have your much-needed rest." She pops her eyebrows up and down, and we both giggle.

"Speaking of rests, how are you feeling?" I ask.

"I am one hundred and fifty percent. Thanks for covering for me."

"Anytime. Emmett was pretty concerned."

"Poor fella," she says with a chuckle. "He didn't know what to do with himself. Buzzed around me with Pepto Bismol and a sad little face… he was useless but adorable."

"Sounds like we've got ourselves a couple of good guys."

"Mmhmm, but you might not want to let him hear you say that." Rosalie juts her chin over my right shoulder.

I have no idea how I missed Edward's entrance. The heat from his smile alone could power a city block. I guess I'm not the only one wearing my heart on my sleeve today.

My feet glide toward him as if pulled by magnets. How is it possible to have missed him so much already? We've only been apart eighteen and a half hours, but who's counting? I'm crazy for him, and the insanity is definitely getting worse. Sigh.

PDA is frowned upon at work—"gotta keep the fantasy alive for the customers"—and if Emmett and Rosalie can keep their hands and mouths off each other all day, I suppose we can refrain, too. But it ain't easy.

I grab a fresh napkin off the pile and slide it across the bar until it bumps into his folded hands. "What can I get you, sir?"

His eyebrows do a little dance for me as he settles into the game. "I seem to be in the mood for wine. What would you recommend with the caramel fudge cheesecake?"

"I take it the meatloaf didn't fill you up?"

"There's always room for dessert."

"I see," says your dessert. "I'd definitely go with the cab."

"Is that right?" Dimple.

"Mmhmm. I think you'll find the cedar and brown sugar notes to be an amusing accompaniment to the chocolate, and the graham cracker finish will blow your mind."

A rich chuckle escapes him. "I see you were paying attention, after all. Cab it is."

"Very well. I can offer you a Woodbridge… or a Woodbridge. What's your pleasure?"

"You are, but I'll take the Woodbridge."

The temperature in here just rose about twenty degrees. Edward's gaze follows me like a cat tracking a mouse as I stretch to retrieve a red wine glass from the rack overhead. There's a bottle uncorked already, thank God, because I shouldn't be handling sharp implements in his vicinity.

I set the glass artfully onto the middle of the cocktail napkin, as I know Edward's appreciation for symmetry. My concentration is locked on my task so as not to splatter his spiffy outfit with red wine, but he is free to stare at my hooters—and he does. The Edward Effect takes over command central, increasing my heartrate and tightening my nipples into sharp points under his intense focus.

After the perfect non-drip, wrist-twist finish, I lean in close and whisper, "If you keep staring at me like that, you're gonna make my boyfriend envious."

"Hmm… is he a big guy?"

"You could say that." I give him the woo-woo eyebrows.

"Heh." He places his lips at the edge of my ear. "Good thing he can't read my thoughts."

"I wouldn't be so sure, mister."

He chuckles into his wine glass as I pull back. "Good point."

"Let me put your order in and take a spin down the bar. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Take your time."

We're not overly busy but I want to pull my weight, which means I don't have a chance to visit Edward again until his cheesecake comes out. I'm not usually tempted by the food at work, but watching him take a forkful of the fluffy filling to his lips, I want some. Or maybe I want to be the cheesecake. I can't say for sure, but I know I want something.

Ever the mind-reader, he grins and turns his forkful toward me. "Hungry?"

"Not for food."

He nods. "I feel your pain, there."

"How was your visit today?" Nothing kills the buzz like a mom tossed into the convo.

He takes a casual bite and sets down his fork. "My mother would like to meet you."

"Oh boy." The last boy who brought me home to meet his parents was in high school. I don't remember that going very well. "Edward, I haven't even seen my own mother in almost two months."

"What does one have to do with the other?"

"It would just be really weird if I were to bring a man home with me out of the blue."

"Whoa, there. Slow down. I'm not asking you to introduce me to your parents."

"I know, it's just…" I'm at a loss, here. I don't have a concrete reason for feeling as if an earthquake has just toppled the restaurant around us, but I still feel trapped under the rubble.

Something tells me Edward is not exactly surprised I'm having a mini-freakout over here. He dabs his mouth with the cocktail napkin and launches into a monologue he seems to have been saving in the event of this very emergency.

"So, I show up today with my usual bouquet, dressed in my usual Shady Acres uniform, everything about me's pretty much the same as any other day—facial hair, head hair, same old face, right?" He pauses to make sure I'm following along. I nod. "First thing Mom says is, 'You look different today, son.'"

Please don't say, "Yeah, Mom, I spent the weekend porking my girlfriend nonstop."

"So I say, 'Yeah? How so?' and Mom says, 'This girl of yours is pretty special, huh?'"

I wasn't planning on crying today at work, but if he keeps this up, I might. There's something kind of wonderful about hearing Edward tell me his own mother could read it all over his face. "And you say…?"

Edward grins, loving my straight man routine. "I say, 'Yes, she really is.' And Mom says, 'Why haven't you brought her by?' so I ask her, 'When have I ever brought a girlfriend here?' Would you like to know what she said to that, Bella?"

I don't trust myself to speak, or even to nod.

"She said," he starts in his regular voice but mellows when he gets to the punchline, "When has a girl ever put a smile like this on your face?"

He reaches across the bar for my hand, and PDA be damned, I grab it, while I swipe my tears away with the other hand.

"And what did you say to that?" My attempt at speech comes out shaky and soft, but he smiles anyway. Maybe it's the smile his mother saw and maybe it's special for me, but it's nice.

"What else could I say? I tell her, 'You know, Mom, you got a good point there.' And here I am."

"Here you are."

I can't stop looking at him. He's hot as hell, for one thing, but that's nothing new. He seems more sure of himself than before—not necessarily more sure of me, but more clear about his own feelings. And he's man enough to own it, which is refreshing as hell.

"I hope you don't mind I came here to ask you, but it didn't seem the kind of thing I should try to do over the phone."

I drag a knuckle over the last tear. "No, that might've been awkward."

He gives my hand a playful squeeze. "Since our next date isn't for another three days, I figured I better get down here right away."

"I'm glad you did." I couldn't fathom how I'd get through three days without seeing him anyway, but he saves me from saying so.

"So… what should I tell dear old Mom? Will you accompany me to Shady Acres?"

"Sure, but does it have to be on a Monday? I have class till noon and then I start work at two."

His grin is so huge, I'm not sure he heard anything after "sure."

"The meatloaf is negotiable."

.

.

.

Mrs. Cope sits patiently on my bed while I try on every outfit I own with any potential for the big lunch date. My most conservative top falls well short of meet-the-mom material. And this isn't just any mom; it's Edward's mom. Old School squared.

"Maybe I should splurge on something new," I say, regarding my unfortunate cleavage. "I might not get a second chance with her."

"Oh! I think I might have just the thing… I'll be right back."

Mrs. Cope returns a few minutes later with a long, creamy-beige silk scarf dotted with bright-colored birds. "My daughter-in-law gave this to me for my sixtieth birthday, and she happens to have exquisite taste. I'm sure it cost her a fortune, but I've never had occasion to wear it. You'd be doing me a giant favor taking it out for a spin." She drapes the scarf around my neck, wraps it again, then fusses with the ends. "There. What do you think?"

She turns me toward the mirror, and I can hardly believe my eyes. I look as if I stepped right out of one of those old-time movies where the female love interest is the spitting image of the vampire's long-lost, true love's cameo-wearing great-great-great-grandmother. I do believe Mrs. O'School will be impressed.

"It's perfect, Mrs. C. Thank you so much."

"My pleasure. She's going to love you, you know."

My reflection frowns back at both of us. Mrs. Cope turns me to face her. "What's wrong?"

"It's just, I can't help thinking I might not be what Mrs. Cullen had in mind for her son."

"Oh, Bella." She takes my hand between hers. "I know a thing or two about what mothers want for their sons. Let me tell you, honey, you are a prize. You make that man happy. A mother knows."

My thoughts skitter back to exactly how I put that smile on Edward's face. I sure hope a mother doesn't know that part.

"You don't think she'll worry I'm after his money or something?"

"Honey, this isn't exactly Mission Bay."

"It's certainly more than I have, but obviously, that's not why I'm with him. I mean, I fell for a guy standing at a bus stop in the rain. Sure, he had nice shoes, but still!"

"You know what's in your heart, and so does Edward. Don't invent problems where there aren't any. Life hands you enough of those all on its own."

"True." I run my fingers along the beautiful scarf. "Thank you again, Mrs. C. For everything."

"I'm just happy to see you so happy. He really is such a lovely young man."

There's a wistful look in her eye that makes me wonder if she's missing her own Mr. C or if she's worried about losing me to Edward. I can't make any promises about sticking around forever, but Mrs. Cope is a wise woman; she knows this. Still, she's always the first to shoo me out the door and into his arms.

.

.

.

We ride the bus to Shady Acres because this is Edward's routine. Also, this bus is our beginning, and there's something that just feels right about settling into the seat with him, clasping hands, and venturing out together.

"Too bad it didn't rain today," he teases. "You know, for old time's sake."

"No, thank you. Your mom doesn't need to see what happens to my hair in the rain."

He chuckles lightly, tucking a few strands of hair behind my ear. "Oh, the horror!"

"Shush! You cannot possibly understand. All you have to do is run your hand over your head once, and poof! You're perfect."

"Whatever you say." We hit a bump in the road, and the pretty rust mini-mums bounce against his knee.

"Okay, your older sister, Alice, lives in Seattle with her husband, Jasper, and their two kids, Seth and Peter."

"Paul."

"Right, Paul. And your mom has a sister in Miami Beach who—"

He pulls me into one of his best kisses ever, swallowing the family history along with all rational thought.

"Stop. It's not an exam. My mother's not like that. I promise."

I nuzzle my face into his neck, breathe him in. If I could just stay right here forever, everything would be fine. "We should have probably had crazy marathon sex first. I would have been more relaxed."

He chuckles against my cheek. "Bella, I promise you, we are going to have epic marathon sex afterward."

"Okay, yes, because thinking about that while we're with your mom is really gonna help me relax."

"Um… we're here."

###


Author's Note: Well? Is Mom gonna love her or WHAT?

XXX ~BOH