Chapter 85

Esme let her hand drift from Carlisle's hand to his knee. She scooted herself closer to him on their drive home through the incoming snowstorm.

He turned to look at her, "Everything alright?"

She nodded and flashed him a smile, "Fine."

Familiar street signs came into view through the blanket of white that continued to drop from the sky. Esme studied her husband's hands as he gracefully cut the wheel using nothing but his palms.

Carlisle sensed she was staring at him, so he looked over to her again with a laugh, "What?"

"Pull over," Esme said.

Carlisle looked surprised, "The car?" he asked, then thought to himself, what a stupid question.

Esme chuckled, "Yes. The car."

He looked in the rearview mirror at the empty streets behind them, that were now fully white with few tire tracks, and pulled the car to a hault at the side of the road. The windshield wipers continued to do their job, getting the snow off the window with every clean swipe, working extra hard in the developing storm.

Carlisle looked over at Esme. She smiled, "I just wanted to kiss you."

He laughed, "You've certainly gone through the full wave of emotions tonight."

"I could still insist on being angry with you," she said, beginning to lean closer to him.

"I think I like this mood a little better," he returned her lean and allowed her to do as she planned, still pressing the brake with his foot. As her kiss heated up, he put the car in park and found himself almost completely in the passenger seat on top of her.

Esme continued to pull him toward her by his tie, keeping his mouth against hers. She carefully undid the button of his pants at the same time.

Carlisle was pleasantly surprised at his wife's aggression. The anger she had earlier, followed by her brief moments of saddness at the hospital had him convinced that it would take awhile for her to cheer up and get back to some sort of neutral ground.

He found himself grinning as Esme pulled the lever to make her seat drop back to a horizontal position. It took him longer than he'd hoped for to get the rest of his body across the middle of the car, catching one of his feet on shifter.

Esme laughed at his struggle as his shoe popped off in the process. He returned her laughter briefly and tossed his scarf and jacket into the back seat, glancing through the windows of the car to make sure they were still alone on the desserted street.

"I'm not complaining," Carlisle said, kissing his wife several times, "But where did this come from?"

Esme unzipped his pants and worked them down so they draped around his ankles, leaving him in his boxers and and the buttondown shirt he'd worn to work, "You're all I've been thinking about since I calmed down earlier. I felt so bad about our fight. It hit me later that you could have been killed. It made me realize that there was no reason to be mad. I just thought about how much I love you."

"So this is out of pity, huh?" He joked, linking one of his hands with hers.

She held up her hand, "Maybe a little," then added, "And after you kissed me in the parking lot, my mind started wandering." She began undoing the buttons on his shirt, letting his tie dangle loosely around his neck, "I want to take advantage of every second with you," her hand traveled down his torso.

Carlisle closed his eyes, fully enjoying the sensation she created. He let out a quiet sigh and a rumble lingered in his throat. This was unorthodox for them, but he found himself thoroughly enjoying himself in many different ways. He began to kiss her, and she wrapped her arms around him tightly, almost desperately. Carlisle pulled back for a second, "You know we're going to be alright, don't you? With the Volturi..."

His words were serious and kind. Esme found her hands placed on top of his shoulders, beneath his open shirt, "Yes. I know."

Carlisle knew from the look in her eyes that there was still an overwhelming worry that lingered in the pit of her stomach. He reminded himself that his original plan was to try to distract Esme from those feelings, and now regretted bringing her back down that road. "We'll be together for forever," he whispered in her ear.

She let a breath go in and out of her mouth, and it landed on his neck. She brought her mouth back to his and ended up getting lost in the way her was kissing her. Neither of them, at the moment, attempted to progress their intimacy to the next level.

"Are you sure you want to do this right now?" Carlisle asked, wishing he hadn't asked at the chance she'd say no.

"If you don't-"

"I do," he told her almost immediately, "I just feel like you're still very... emotional. I just want to make sure you're okay."

Esme fought off a sudden urge to cry, staring into his eyes. She made sure it didn't happen, knowing very well Carlisle wouldn't continue if she did. For some reason she felt like she needed him, and suddenly hoped it wasn't some type of premonition. Instead of answering him with words, she did so by guiding his hands to her hips and pressed her mouth to his another time.

Carlisle fed into his wife's feelings, sensing his emotional level begin to match hers. She helped guide him along, feeling his reluctancy because of her constantly changing emotions. He let her win the battle and began making love to her in the front seat of his car. The setting wasn't one you'd picture for a deep, intimate connection, but everything that the two of them felt for each other in that moment was far beyond that, that they had acknowledged in each other for a long time, including their previous stay at Isle Esme.

An hour or so went by before each of them decided it was time to get home. They both knew the morning light would be upon Forks soon, though the snow continued to cover the town and the sky remained black for the time being.

Esme all but refused to let Carlisle go, as he lifted himself away from her a few inches. His boxers were torn slightly on the sides where Esme had dug her fingers. The car was in one piece, to both of their surprises.

"Sure you're okay, Esme?" Carlisle asked again, caressing her face with the back of his hand.

She pulled his knuckles to her and kissed his hand gently. He collapsed his forehead to meet hers and closed his eyes. "I love you," he whispered.

"I love you so much, Carlisle. You don't even know."

"I know," he assued. "I know."

Their senses were both triggered at the same time, and they suddenly looked at each other. Another car finally traveled down the lonely road and Carlisle jumped back into his seat, struggling in the confined space to get himself back together. Esme simply got herself together, though a smile spread on her face at her husband's thrashed appearance.

The car pulled over and immediately they saw it was Charlie's police car. He quickly parked and ran over, as Carlisle unrolled the window, sending flakes of snow inside.

"Carlisle?" Charlie asked, squinting in the heavy snow.

He nodded in embaressment, aware that Charlie probably noticed that his clothes were uneven and he was still missing a shoe.

"You, uh, you guys stuck?" He looked to both of them, somewhat awkwardly.

"I think we'll be able to get home," Carlisle said, "Sorry to make you stop."

"It's no problem. Just, uh, be safe."