Beta'd by cejsmom and preread by Twi-mom12292005

You all know who owns these characters. No copyright infringement intended.

Chapter 17

BPOV

When I start to stir I know I'm not in my own bed or house. The smells are familiar, but not. My body is sticking to a newish leather sofa, but mostly I'm aware that I'm still in my clothes from last night. My first thought is, "Did I embarrass myself?" Which I tend to do when I drink, I'm such a lightweight. I can't recall anything specifically embarrassing, except that I was outed as the 'Dog Beach Virgin', which I take offense to, but also love because Edward referred to me as "hot" to his friends. I breathe a sigh of relief and smile. It was actually a really good night.

I open my eyes to see a note for me placed on the coffee table. Edward has very neat writing, almost meticulous. I am disappointed to read that he left to look for the dogs without me. He left his cell number and I consider calling him, but I know he'll be home when he can, so I choose not to bother him.

It's still dark, but I can tell it's near dawn. The window coverings are open, and I can see just a hint of orange in the eastern sky. I'm in the spacious living room of his second story apartment. His place is nicely and expensively decorated. It screams "designer": masculine, yet comfortable; very Edward. It's very clean and tidy. He either has a house cleaner who just came and cleaned or he's a bit anal.

What stands out the most about his place are the walls. They are covered with framed photographs. I'm assuming most of which were taken by him. I'll have to ask about the photos later.

I keep hearing this annoying repetitive noise coming from outside. I look out of the window facing the ocean. He has a lovely view across the wetlands, but I can't see anything making a noise. I notice he gets a gentle breeze here just like I do at my house.

I go to another window and I can barely make out the source of the noise...it's him. He appears to be fixing the damage to the doors of the rescue. I watch him work for a few minutes. I wish he didn't have a shirt on. I would love to see those abs again. I imagine his torso is darker than it was back in early June. A light film of sweat bands across his toned chest while the stress of the hard work is causing his muscles to flex.

I snap myself back to reality. He's obviously been up all night. He must be tired and thirsty. I freshen up in the bathroom before searching through his fridge for a cool drink. He has a few chilled sports drinks, so I pour one in a tall glass over ice and head downstairs.

I walk up to him slowly, not wanting to disturb or startle him, but mostly because I want to enjoy the view as long as I can. He's working so hard, so focused, like his life depends on this getting done right now. I know this comes from the empathy and love he feels for these animals.

Knowing what I know about him so far, I think he feels responsible for the dogs escaping. I hope we find all of the dogs today. Oh, "we". I like the sound of that, but very presumptuous of me. I'm acting like he'd want me here to help look for his dogs.

I'm lost in my daydream when he stops, stretches and turns towards me. I smile shyly, not knowing how he's going to feel about me being down here, disturbing his work.

His broad smile immediately puts me at ease. I can't help but smile back. I hand him the drink, which he appreciates.

I ask about the dogs. He's been very busy. I'm impressed with all that he managed to do while I slept and I'm touched that he is still worried about the dog that's still lost, Booboo.

I tell him how I wish he would have woken me up so I could help, but he doesn't seem the least bit upset that I didn't help him. I have mixed feelings about that. Maybe he didn't want me with him.

He tells me he's going to take me home as soon as he's done with the repairs. I'm disappointed. I don't want to leave yet. There's so much I want to learn about him. How the rescue came about? Did he take all of those photos in his apartment? Does he have a housekeeper? Boxers or briefs? And so much more.

I'm able to persuade him to get some sleep before he drives me back to Laguna. Whew, that was close. I have some snooping to do while he's sleeping.

We walk up to the apartment in comfortable silence. He gives me a quick tour; showing me where some magazines are, the tv remote, even the exercise equipment.

He tells me to make myself at home while he showers. I wonder if that includes watching him shower or better yet, taking a shower with him. I need to stop wondering.

I start with the photos on the walls. Most of them are scenic. A lot of beach photos, surfers, the dog beach, dogs, but very few people. He does have a few photos of his family, Emmett, and Rose. However, he's not in any of the photos. He must always be behind the camera. I'll have to change that. This man is too gorgeous to not be photographed.

I wonder if he's one of those guys that's all weird about his camera and doesn't want anyone touching it. There I go wondering again.

There is something about Edward that makes me want more, more information. It's like I'm insatiable about him and he's only touched me once, and on my arm. But that touch was like a flicker to my flame. He's left me burning since that first touch.

He walks into the room and I try not to gawk. His hair is damp and he smells soapy and clean. He's wearing pajama pants and a wife beater. I can see his muscular arms and the shape of his perfect ass.

We briefly talk about the photos on his walls. All of which are his.

I inquire about the other photos he took at the dog beach that day. He doesn't look comfortable, but he gets me set up to look at the photos on his computer anyway. He goes off to bed, stumbling and mumbling. He must be tired.

There are about 20 photos of me and/or Buddy. They are all pretty harmless except for one. I have my back turned and I'm bending over picking my stuff up off the sand. I didn't bend at the knees, big mistake. I wonder why he didn't delete this one. Hmmm, either he likes it or it's a potential blackmail photo. I doubt the latter. I have to admit it makes me smile in a, "he's kind of a perv," sort of way. He's been a perfect gentleman, so I'm not concerned.

I open a few of his other computer files. I have to do a little snooping. He appears to photograph mostly bikini models. I definitely don't look like them in a bikini. Even though Edward is obviously shy and reserved, he has access to beautiful women all of the time. I can't help but feel a little defeated. I'm way out of my league here.

Edward's only been asleep for an hour or so. I look for something else to occupy my mind. On a bookcase near his computer are what look like photo albums. My curiosity gets the best of me and I grab a few and head to the couch.

They are all family photo albums. Mostly pictures of Edward and Alice. Edward was a very serious child. He isn't smiling in a single shot. Knowing his parents and how they are. I can't understand why he would be so unhappy.

The photos of him as a child are so similar. Christmas, birthdays, even outside, he's seated with a dog on or near his lap. No typical little boy photos. No toothless smile, holding a bat, covered in dirt and grass stains. Edward is impeccable in every picture. Alice, on the other hand, looks like she is full of mischief and running circles around Edward.

I thumb through every photo album I can find, but no baby photos of him. There are some of Alice, but none of Edward as a baby. The photos of him seem to start when he's about five or so. That's odd.

At seven I call Jacob. I need him to let Buddy out and feed him. I didn't anticipate being gone all night and involving Jake is going to be awkward at best.

"Hey Jake, sorry to bother you so early."

"It's okay Bella. I was up. Is everything okay?"

"Everything is okay. I just need your help with Buddy."

"Sure, what do you need?"

"Well, I'm not home and I need you to go over and let him out and feed him."

Silence. "You're not home? Where are you?"

"A friend of mine had a problem last night and needed to use my car. I came along for the ride. The problem is that Buddy is locked in the bathroom. He..."

"Locked in the bathroom." He yells.

"Calm down, Jake. The fireworks were scaring him, so I locked him in the bathroom with the radio on to drown out the noise. I was home last night and let him out. He has food and water. He just needs to be let outside and given some more food."

"Oh, when will you be home?"

"I don't know for sure, but sometime today. You can leave him in the house when you go. He'll be fine for a few hours. I totally owe you." I say trying to lighten the tension.

"Good thing I still have your key from your trip. Ok, Bella. I'll help you out."

"Thanks Jake, for me and Buddy. I'll call you later when I get home."

"Sure." He agrees, but he sounds off. That was an awkward conversation, but I managed to get through it without mentioning that I'm with a guy. Even if he is just a friend, I don't want to have to explain myself to Jake, or make him feel bad.

I'm straightening the room and thinking about breakfast when a phone rings. I don't want it to wake Edward so I rush to silence it. It's his cell phone. I glance at the number, but it's not a programmed in the phone. I decide to answer it because it's so early and it could be about Booboo. I'm relieved when the caller says they saw a sign on a telephone pole and they have him.

I go to wake Edward, but he looked so tired just a couple of hours ago. I have GPS in my car, so I decide to go get Booboo by myself and surprise Edward.

I don't have any keys for the rescue so when I return with Booboo I take him upstairs to the apartment.

As soon as I open the door I hear yelling, "NO, NO, I can't move. HELP."

I rush to Edward's room with Booboo in my arms. I don't know what to expect. What I see makes my heart hurt. Edward is sound asleep obviously having a horrible nightmare. He's on his stomach thrashing around in bed, very upset. He keeps repeating, "Sorry, sorry. I'm so sorry."

I don't know what to do. I want to go to him and try to calm him, but I'm afraid. I don't want to overstep in our new, unusual relationship, if that's what you can call it.

Watching him in distress is more than I can bear. I cautiously go to him and gently rub his exposed back and shoulder. He is so hot and damp from sweat. He quiets and relaxes immediately at my touch.

I'm holding Booboo with my other hand; he squirms out and lands next to Edward on the bed. I try to grab him before he licks Edward's face, but I manage to fall on Edward in the process. He jumps up, his eyes unfocused, wild, and scared. He looks from me to Booboo and back again. I'm frozen. I'm sure I look as shocked as he does.

I think about running out of the room and fleeing the scene of the crime. Here I am, in his bedroom while he sleeps, while he has a nightmare no less. I feel like I'm intruding.

Suddenly he grabs Booboo into a tight hug, closes his eyes and gently rocks him back and forth. Now I really feel like I'm intruding.

I quickly walk out and head for the kitchen. I need to make myself useful.

I try to calm my nerves by making us breakfast.

He has ingredients for omelets. I start a pot of coffee, cut up some fruit, make some toast and pour some juice.

Booboo joins me in the kitchen when the smell starts wafting through the apartment. Edward follows behind him. He looks good, really good, still in his pajamas, disheveled hair, a little scruff on his face. I try not to stare.

"Sit down, breakfast is almost ready."

"Thanks." He says quietly, not making eye contact.

We eat in silence and it's killing me. I can't tell if he's angry, sad, embarrassed?

I jump when he breaks the silence even though his voice is quiet and calm. "This is really good, Bella. Thanks. How did Booboo get home?"

"I hope you don't mind, but your phone rang early this morning. I wasn't going to answer it, but I figured you put your cell number on the flyers you made. When the number calling wasn't programmed in your phone I took the chance that it might be about Booboo." I don't look up from my plate, afraid of what I might see in his eyes.

"That was really kind of you. You didn't have to go get him, but I'm glad you did. I can't imagine waking up to anything better." He touches my hand as he finishes speaking.

I can feel the heat of his hand burning through my body. I meet his eyes and I see true gratitude. He takes both of my hands in his and the intensity of his stare is breathtaking. "Thank you, Bella, for everything."

I'm stunned into silence. Unable to speak, move or look away. It seems like forever, but not nearly long enough, when he gently squeezes my hands and starts eating again.

It takes me a minute to compute what just happened. This gorgeous man, who is my friend's brother, is a photographer, owns an animal rescue, is amazingly compassionate about these animals, doesn't like to talk about himself and has terrifying nightmares, and he has managed to dazzle me with just five words.

A/N

She didn't snoop too bad. Any thoughts about what she found?

What about the nightmare?

Happy Thanksgiving to all of my American readers! And Happy Day to the rest of you :)

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