Chrissy Amphlett and the guys wrote the lyrics to the song I've borrowed here, "I Touch Myself."
It's Murder
Chapter 3
EPOV
When I joined the squad, I pretty much knew I'd be teamed with the token female, just for being the new boy. That was fine with me. If it came down to sitting in a car overnight, doing surveillance on some perp, I'd much rather be stuck with a sweet smelling female than some middle aged old fart with hygiene issues. Most of the older guys were divorced and had no wife at home reminding them to shower.
Two years in Domestic Violence had been as much as I could stomach, but even so, I think I was transferred out because my partner had reported she was concerned if I encountered too many more douchebag bullies who were using their wives and kids as punching bags I'd probably end up on an assault charge, if not murder.
Detective Swan seemed to know all about me, and at first I was quite prepared to do the deed and get the whole thing over with, but something stopped me cold.
It's hard to explain because it took me two and a half years to understand it myself.
She was nothing like my ideal; not physically, and definitely not personality wise; I preferred them with as little personality as possible so I never had to think of them as human beings with feelings and hopes and dreams.
She was mouthy and managed to keep the other men in the squad in line and laughed with them when they laughed at her and made her the butt of their politically incorrect jokes; but she always managed to put them back in their place quick smart.
Of course, I didn't even consider there would ever be anything serious between us, so I started my usual pre-seduction spiel and invited her out for a drink.
I barely listened to her reply, just assumed she was biting her lip and twirling a tendril of her hair around a finger as she looked me over and tried not to come across too eager, even though she would be.
I know that sounds really arrogant but it was the way it always had been in the past; why would she be any different?
"Tonight?"she questioned.
"Sure, tonight is good; Marcus wants us to look over some case notes anyway so why not make a night of it." I answered, looking out of the glass partition that separated us from the hallway, and wondering if the receptionist was going to bend over any further and show me what she was made of. In that mini skirt, the world was her gynecologist. We all knew she was female but she seemed intent on proving it.
I was earmarking her to be my next conquest after this obligatory tryst with Detective Swan, when Bella leaned over and indicated for me to come in closer.
"Am I the first girl you have ever invited out for a drink? It's okay, I get that gay guys in this job need a 'beard' to hide their 'true nature'. Just remember next time, it's bad form to be leering at someone else while you are asking a girl out."
"A beard?"I replied, confused.
"Fag hag, whatever."
"I'm not gay," I denied crossly, as the real insult sunk in.
"Really? Are you a cross dresser then?"
"I believe this comes under the heading of sexual harassment," I barked back, completely thrown.
"Hey, I'm fine with being partnered up with a cross dresser. No offence meant. I was just going to ask you if you had a decent dress I could borrow for the date I'm going on tonight."
I was so flummoxed at her behaviour, I almost fell into her trap and pointed out I was six foot three and she wasn't so any dress I owned was not going to fit her by any stretch of the imagination but I caught myself in time.
"Do you think you are funny?" I grumbled.
"Nah, put it down to eyelash envy. I know God hates me but really? I have to team up with a guy with the most amazing eyelashes on Earth? I wonder if I pulled them out and stuck them in my eyelids, if they'd transplant."
"You like my eyelashes?"I said, confused again. Was she insulting me or complimenting me? It could not be good if I couldn't even tell the difference.
"Must save you oodles on mascara. Here's my keys. I've written down my home address, just drop the files there and I'll peruse them when I get in."
Nobody else was in the room, so I couldn't understand why she was speaking to me that way. In time I came to realize she made a habit of cutting down anyone arrogant, or sexist, or just any men who had a rep for fooling around fast and loose with females they worked with.
My looks meant nothing to her , and she clearly had no intention of letting us be friends until I toned down my boorish behaviour and treated her with respect. That happened instantly, as it turned out. I loved that she had instantly dismissed that a night with me could be worth the effort. Nobody had ever done that before, and I had to admire a woman who saw straight through me and took no crap.
She seemed excited as the workday ended and I got the feeling her date was with someone special. Little did I know the guy she was dating was actually the only man she had ever had any real feelings for.
The next day she floated around several feet above the floor, and kept looking at her ring finger and smiling to herself.
Was Detective Swan about to be proposed to?
He was a lucky man, landing her.
She was distracted that whole first week, but the next week was completely opposite. I picked up that something major had occurred.
It wasn't like they'd broken up, exactly, but she was desperate to leave as early as possible and as we had no actual case, she disappeared in a flash as soon as Marcus had gone home himself.
Then on the Friday, I saw her still sitting in her car, out in the carpark, her hands shaking so much I decided it would not be safe to let her drive. I took her keys from the ignition and led her to my passenger door, and drove her to her tiny apartment and refused to leave until she had told me what was happening.
"It's his decision and it's the right choice," she insisted, sipping on the first of many coffee's I was destined to make her. "Career comes first."
"Sometimes," I agreed.
"We can still get engaged sometime in the future. It's not like my biological clock is on it's last circuit or anything. I'm twenty five. There's years yet."
"Sure. Twenty five is still young to want to be tied down with kids," I stated.
"I mean, he's only twenty seven himself. At his age it's a real honour to be chosen to be their temporary attachment and he will be great at it. I know that. He will be safe, right, Edward?"
"I'm not sure who we are talking about or what he's doing," I pointed out.
"Riley. My boyfriend. He's taken an assignment on the UC squad. You know it nearly always means a promotion when they bring you back out again. Assuming the case is solved and they get to prosecute their perp."
"Your boyfriend's going undercover? How long for?"
"Weeks. Maybe months. But he is an experienced DI and he knows what he's taking on. He'll be fine."
"You seem upset about this," I stated the obvious.
"You hear things, don't you? It's not cheating if he gets into some situation where he has no choice other than to sleep with someone associated with his case, right? Things happen. He won't be going in as Riley Biers, my boyfriend. He'll be whoever they have decided he has to be and if they need him to get close to some female in order to do his job, then we have to be mature about it and not let it come between us when he comes back. We are adults, and we know in undercover ops, you always have to be in one hundred per cent or you won't fool anyone. He can hardly explain he has this girlfriend at home, when he's meant to be some drug dealer who would not be bothered about something as simple as screwing around if he can happily deal poison to kids. I don't think dealers are a very moral crowd."
Wine became involved, after the coffee.
As the night wore on, she talked herself into believing no matter what happened, she and Riley would be fine. She warned me with a wink I had better leave as soon as he arrived, considering it would be their last night together for a while, and she assured me there were things that would be happening in her bed tonight that I really did not want to witness.
The hours dragged by but no boyfriend turned upon her doorstep.
We talked, about all manner of things. I told her bits and pieces about my life that I had not intended ever telling anyone, but I wanted to keep her distracted. Gradually, we got more comfortable with one another, and she told me she liked my hair. She confessed she really was jealous of it and lamented that guys always got the best hair, not to mention my eyelashes. She was serious about them, then.
"You truly do have the longest, thickest eyelashes. I want them. The way they frame your beautiful eyes...wasted,on a guy. So unfair."
"I was born with these eyelashes, I didn't push into the queue ahead of the woman who was supposed to get them."
"But it's unfair. That hair, those lashes and the emerald green eyes. Greedy much? And I get stuck with the mud coloured eyes and the stubbiest lashes on the planet. We won't even mention this frizzy mess that passes for my hair. Did I remember to thank you for that, God?"
She was overtired and talking rubbish.
I guessed it was just her way of relieving stress.
She finally fell asleep lying on her sofa, with her head on my lap, and I gazed down at her as she slept and wondered how the fuck this guy could have stood her up tonight; his last night as himself. And how he could walk away from her for an indefinite period, and manage to accept he would not hear from her, or see her, or even be able to carry her photo with him, until his case was done.
Asleep, she looked like a helpless little kitten, and my protective instincts were stirred, but apart from immediately dismissing any idea about sleeping with her because it would be just wrong, I didn't realize she had already started something happening deep inside me.
I mean, she clearly loved Riley, and she was just as clearly not really attracted to me as a person, she just liked bits of me. Eyelashes. All that was left was for us to become friends.
It never occurred to me that I had never had one single female friend.
For many years now, girls were for sex, and I'd never wanted to get close to one, or wanted to be in any female's company out of bed. Before Bella.
There had been a time ,sure, when I loved and respected all women, until one I thought was special had showed me her true colours in the worst possible way. I'd never let another one trick me again. Get in fast, use them, get out, done deal. No pain, no heartache.
Bella seemed different though. It stood to reason they could not possibly all be selfish and bad liars.
She was making me consider trying again one day. Maybe. If she never did anything to prove I was wrong about her.
I carried her to her bed and decided I should stick around for the night, and make sure she was really okay.
That was my first encounter with the futon sofa from Hell. It looked extremely uncomfortable but in reality, it reached new heights as a torture device, and I woke up wondering if I had enough medical insurance to cover me for the rest of my life if this bed left me paralysed from the neck down. Her spare pillows were well matched with the sofa, and felt like lumps of concrete.
Bella was up, making coffee, and she huddled up on her one armchair and watched the clock.
"What time is this all happening?" I asked her.
"He'll be gone by now," she replied sadly." His plane left half an hour ago. I kind of thought maybe he would call in on his way to the airport."
She checked her cellphone and tried to hide the tears in her eyes by announcing she was taking a shower before I used up all her hot water and I remade the sofa and sat there figuring out how she would want me to handle this. Obviously I would never tell anyone how she had waited and he had not even bothered to send her a lousy text, but more importantly, I had to pretend she was fine and not offer her any form of sympathy.
She was hardly the type who could handle anyone's pity, so I resolved not to have any for her and there would not be a problem.
She'd opened up and shown me part of the real her, and now I had to be very careful and not make her regret that.
I could hear her crying in the bathroom as she washed and she was probably hoping the water was drowning out her sounds of distress.
I hated Riley Biers for doing this to her.
When she emerged at last, dressed in black from head to toe, she tried blaming her shampoo for the redness of her eyes.
I agreed that shampoo probably contained a lot of harmful additives we'd never know about because the names of the ingredients were gobbledygook. I think they hire someone to rename whatever the fuck they make it with, so it sounds all high tech and impressive, when it's probably much the same formula as dishwashing liquid.
She scrubbed her eyes with her towel and sat down despondently.
Time to step in and try and change her mood. I'd settle for her being mad at me, rather than this sad.
"Geez, Swan, do you only shower once a week or what?" I asked her. "Nobody needs to waste that much water. I hope washing your hair was worth using up half the town's water supply. Now, who is cooking breakfast?"
I opened her fridge and pulled out eggs and milk and butter and sent her out to purchase fresh bread. She was back in control by the time she got back and she ate enough breakfast to convince me she was going to be okay. Today, anyway.
We hung out together all weekend, and she showed me around her neighbourhood and rubbished my taste when I took her to see my new apartment.
More money than sense, was her conclusion as she wandered around, looking surprised at my decor. It was hardly screaming swinging bachelor pad, after my Mom's interior decorating binge. While everything was top drawer and tasteful, it did give Bella ammunition to keep up the gay jokes.
We ate lunch at her favourite restaurant in her neighbourhood, and she bet me I could not find food that good in The Heights, no matter how much I paid.
I accepted her challenge and took her to dinner at some fancy place that served an asparagus spear and three of the world's tiniest potatoes with a swirl of some kind of dressing on a plate for fifty bucks. There was supposed to be meat involved but I think it shrunk into oblivion someplace between the kitchen and our table. Bella chewed on the garnish, a sprig of parsley, just to make sure she was really full after all that food.
"You could have bought me a weeks supply of groceries for that," she whispered as I paid the bill.
We walked the streets and ate ice cream cones to fill in the gaping hole in our stomachs. She called them dessert and thanked me for the two course meal. That night, we both pretended it was too far for me drive back home again so I stayed and held her in my arms as she slept beneath her bedcovers, with me above them. I rubbed her back when she stirred and called out for Riley in her sleep.
By Monday we were truly friends. We just clicked. I knew it happened but this was the first time it had happened to me. She already felt like an old friend. I was half surprised realizing I had no memories of her because I'd really just met her.
It seemed like she had been in my life forever.
She was equally at ease around me.
Of course the rest of the squad assumed things about us, especially when Bella would bring something to work that I'd forgotten, and she'd wink and say "Did you mean to leave your sweater at my place the other night?" and toss it to me.
Rumours abounded, but in time the more observant realized it was friendship, not fuckbuddies.
But all the same, you could see they all assumed it was inevitable that we would eventually give in and just do it.
It couldn't be me delaying things, because it was widely known I had a few notches on my bedpost, therefore it had to be Bella.
The whole concept of respecting someone; a woman, to the point where sleeping with them was no longer a priority was a little too foreign for the guys in the room to grasp.
Most if not all of them had hit on her at some point, but she turned them down every time. It became like a challenge; a badge of honour to at least try.
I was vastly amused by sitting there in the front row seat as it were, watching her turn them down one by one.
The funniest instance had been with Harry. At a badly preserved fifty five with a beer belly, he had to know the odds were against him but to give the man his due, he gave it his best try.
Everything in fact was severely against him, considering how he was the worst offender when it came to belittling Bella and her work.
We all watched unobtrusively out of the corner of our eyes as we appeared to keep doing our paperwork, as he sat on the corner of Bella's desk, and we waited for the show to begin.
"So, Bella, I believe you once said age is just a number."
"Correct. I have never judged anyone by their chronological age, only by their level of maturity."
He sat up straighter, encouraged.
"So, my age, your age, not a problem, right?"
"Right," she agreed.
"With that in mind, I was wondering if I could buy you a drink after work? I mean, we could get dinner afterwards if we discovered we had a few interests in common, and I have a new coffee machine at home that I'd love to hear your opinion of. Who knows where the night may lead."
"Harry, are we talking sex here?" she asked brightly.
"Sure, if that's what you want. I guess we could do that."
"Maybe it could work. Oh wait, I only sleep with actual grown-ups. I wouldn't want to risk getting my name added to the Sex Offenders list by having sex with an immature little boy like you."
Nobody could keep a straight face and Bella ended up getting a round of applause.
During the first year I was there, they could save face by assuming she was still hung up on Riley but once that was over, then she became 'probably a dyke' for turning them down.
I mean, how could any normal red blooded woman resist their charms?
Some of them even started cleaning up their act and shaving. Some went as far as to get a proper haircut, and started wearing fresh clothes every day, and a few even made a weak effort to lose the belly months or years of living on takeaways had caused, in the hope she'd reconsider.
She managed to somehow turn them all down in turn, yet not cause offence. Maybe because she didn't let any of them win. They were all in the same boat.
If I wasn't, then some resentment could arise.
At first, worrying about Riley was her main topic of conversation outside of work, but in time, it became obvious he was staying in deep for the long haul.
She quizzed Marcus on the first anniversary of his departure, and he made a call and told her Riley had sought to become a permanent UC agent, and he may never return here.
Now I truly hated him for not having the nads to have set her free before he left. There was no way he had ever intended coming back to her, so why hadn't he been a man and given her a clean break?
If you never intend to ever see someone again, it's only good manners to tell them that and not leave them waiting and hoping. If this was typical Riley behaviour, she was better off without him. She'd had a year without him but still, she had not ever adjusted to his absence because she thought he would come back, and they'd take up again where they'd left off.
I offered to take her out to celebrate her freedom, but she refused my offer and the next day she informed me brightly that she'd 'met someone' and so began the succession of 'boyfriends'.
With time on my hands at night while she was out dating, I started feeling the need to look for some willing female company myself again. It had been months, after all. More like a whole year. Her company had been enough and I'd enjoyed being a friend and taking a break from chasing tail.
Initially these girls were all statuesque blondes.
My type.
Not to get too graphic, but I was a tall guy with big feet and long limbs and all of me was in proportion.
My theory was, tall girls could handle what I had to offer, if you get my drift. The longer their torso's, the more they could handle when it came to 'extra length'.
They all had large breasts, small waists, and tiny brains. I was not with them for their conversational skills which was just as well. I re-established my no sleepover rule, and made it plain I was only interested in one offs, and few were surprised or concerned.
Now and again one wanted more, but by then, Bella was bored with whatever his name was, so we did the first role plays of cheater/ outraged spouse to move them both on.
We both found the whole idea that anyone bought us as a couple truly hilarious and it was a long time before I started questioning why anyone would think us ill-matched, because we got along like a house on fire.
On the job, her strengths matched my weaknesses, and vice versa. We agreed that I would question the women and she would tackle the men, and she was constantly amused to see some female simpering around me, trying to keep my attention by landing her spouse/ boyfriend/brother in the shit.
She seemed oblivious of the way she affected the men she spoke to. More than one looked awkward and uncomfortable sitting there in front of her. They crossed their legs, or placed their coats across their laps to hide their hard-ons as she brushed the hair from her eyes and smiled prettily, and they wanted to tell her; wanted her approval.
In truth, she had soothed just as many men into confessing as I had managed with the women.
I loved it when she got all apologetic to some guy who was refusing to answer questions,and told him as his partner in crime was singing like a canary in the next room, so she would have to offer that guy the deal instead. In reality, his friend was being just as silent and stubborn.
It always got them talking, racing to get out all the facts so he would be the one she smiled at and promised to have a word in the right ear to ensure his cooperation had been noted and appreciated.
The dick would sit there, blushing with pride, forgetting he had just signed away ten to twenty years of his life.
All for a smile.
If we had no unsubs or witnesses of the female variety, I stopped shaving and let the beard grow and Bella would cringe and pat my chin and ask me how my new pet animal was today.
I was surprised when I finally got around to shaving and saw her eyes light up at my clean shaven face, but then things started happening with our main suspect and it was two days before I even thought of shaving again.
I noticed Bella was using any excuse to touch my stubble and I automatically filed away her delight in my scruffiness for future reference.
Likes the stubble; hates the beard.
Around a year ago, things started to change rapidly and I started getting pissed off at the low standard she was setting for her 'boyfriends', and also, blonde hair started boring me and I found myself hooking up with brunettes exclusively.
I'm a man, I didn't realize the implications even when I accidentally called one of these girls 'Bella' at a rather vital moment. I couldn't get out of that girl's apartment fast enough.
I would never use Bella like that, I huffed and puffed to myself. We were friends. I had no sexual interest in her at all.
I mentally listed all the many valid reasons why I would never touch her, and hooked up more than ever before, to prove to myself I already had whatever I needed. Brunettes on tap.
Willing brunettes.
I walked into a bar one night, after a particularly trying day. It was unseasonably warm and Bella had discarded half her clothing, causing me hours of blue balls with the glimpses of flesh usually well rugged up because of the cold weather. Her breasts were beautiful, and every time she leaned over a desk, I saw miles of soft, pale, curvy skin. Her legs were a surprise, so shapely yet she was hardly tall. And sans sweater, I could smell her daytime aroma. She smelled wonderful. I wanted to bury my nose in her hair and inhale.
When I went to that club and saw a brunette who looked much like her from the back, I went home with what proved to be my last ever hook-up.
Jessica.
She was a friendly girl and she enjoyed sex, but she was a little miffed that I insisted on taking her from the back and the epiphany hit me square in the face as I nuzzled her neck and buried my nose in her so similar brown hair.
Fuck me, I was not only using this girl for sex, I was using her as a stand in for Bella. It was a step too far. I felt embarrassed and guilt ridden; around Bella, not Jessica, as if I'd somehow done something wrong to my partner and friend.
x~X~x
"Sorry to call you in but we have a new case," Marcus stated. "I need you and Detective Swan in here, now."
"Okay, we'll be there in ten."
I snapped my phone shut and looked around.
Alec had moved out two days ago; yesterday the apartment had been cleaned thoroughly by professionals, and this morning we'd managed to get all the furniture in and arranged while Bella was off finalizing the paperwork.
Alec wanted it all done fast and I'd called our family lawyer, Jay Jenks, because I knew Bella would have no idea who to call herself.
He had agreed to drag the meeting out long enough to insist she had lunch with him, so Alice and I had time to get all this sorted in her absence.
I knew had Bella been here when the moving vans had arrived, the drivers would have been sent back to my place with a flea in their ears, and she would never have allowed this 'act of charity' to happen.
It was simple to me. She needed furniture; I had longed for an excuse to refurnish my own apartment with things I liked and chose myself, but the tricky part had been the fact Esme, my own Mother, had done all the interior decorating herself. She was confident she knew what I liked but clearly she had no idea. Show me a man who wants a house full of white, highly decorated French Provincial furniture and I'll introduce him to Alec.
I wanted black leather couches and an industrial theme, not this pretty, upmarket shit girls like. I know Mom had gone this route because she didn't want to encourage me to remain a bachelor forever, so she had been thinking of the type of home a couple would like...you know, everything chosen by the woman. Seeing I didn't have one, she had chosen what she would like herself in proxy for my 'future wife'.
Emmett was rubbing his hands in glee at the thought of coming to help me choose my own new furnishings and I had warned him I wanted something that looked like a gentleman's club, not a BDSM dungeon, which had caused him to pout and call me a sissy.
I did point out he could always be a grown-up and leave the family home himself and furnish his own place in kinky shit theme, but he liked his home comforts too much. Until he found a woman to take over everything our Mom did for him, plus of course, provide him with all the 'hot,sexy loving' he enjoyed out on dates, he was staying put. Especially now.
New town, new playground. In no time he would sleep his way through the female population of 20 to 40 year old females in Forks.
Emmett was Emmett.
I sent a quick text, warning him I was about to be out of the city on a case so we'd have to delay our shopping spree.
I got an instant response.
"Shopping spree? Could you please attempt not to sound totally gay when you text my phone. Any of my bitches read that they will think I have a boyfriend."
I laughed and pocketed my cell and went to find Alice.
"Really? You two are on a new case? Then if Bella doesn't get to come back today and see all this furniture of yours here, you have to at least tell her about it. I had an idea. Tell me what you think. It seems ridiculous for you to sleep on a pull out, even the fancy new one you bought, so why don't you ask Bella if you can rent a bedroom off her? Just to use when you don't want to make the long drive home, like I hear sometimes happens. That way, you can say you assumed your furniture was welcome too, and that way it's still your furniture...she doesn't have to feel like you are doing her the favour. It's like she is giving room to you and your stuff."
"Sounds like a plan," I agreed. "The place looks great."
"Not that much different to before, when the gay guy's furniture was here.," Alice stated.
"And that's why I wanted shot of it. Honestly, I think the main reason I prefer going to the girl's place when I hook up, instead of taking her home to mine was because she'd take one look and assume I was trying to force myself to be straight and she was my experiment."
"Do you do that a lot? Sleep with randoms?" Alice asked.
I shrugged.
"I used to. Men have needs, Alice. I don't talk about it but it has always been a necessary evil. I am hardly in the ideal job to keep a woman around. Bella and I are often gone for weeks on end, months even, and if we get accepted into the Undercover Unit, it will be more months and years away. No relationship can stand that sort of separation."
"You and Bella want to be undercover agents?" Alice said in surprise.
"It was a bit of an impulse, really. We work with some of the people from that unit at times and we started talking about how much fun it would be to live a whole different life for a while, and get to experience things we never will in our real existences, so we both applied. It was two years ago and we have never heard anything back, so I guess it's a moot point by now."
"It seems creepy. I've always wondered, when one is undercover, do they do things like break the law? Use drugs? Or do they fake it?"
"It would be kind of hard to fake it. From what I know, if you are backed into a corner and can't safely walk away, then, yeah, you do sometimes have to break the law."
"And do you have to sleep with people you'd be expected to if you were the real whoever you are faking to be?"
I shrugged. It had been part of the attraction, for me, back then. Knowing the perfect cover for a guy my age would mostly be either in a fake relationship, or else I'd have to hook up as any single guy would. It had seemed like a perk. Now it seemed like a reason to be glad we had never been accepted.
Also, I don't think nowadays I could handle watching Bella be pawed by some guy, no matter how respectable he was, and let's face it, undercover work hardly ever meant you mixed with the cream of society. More likely some tattooed bikie would be handing her around his gang members.
And I'd have a gun.
I couldn't see any way that would end well.
"Anyway, I have to go get Bella and we will try and get back here tonight to pack, so hopefully, see you then."
I kissed her forehead; she already felt like a sister to me.
My new bedroom looked exactly as my own at home had, seeing my brass bed and the rest of my bedroom furniture was now in it. It would certainly be a home away from home for me.
We had set up Alice's bedroom with Bella's old cast iron bed, and prepared a room for Tom with his own new crib and nursery items I had insisted on buying for him. Alice didn't argue but she was different to Bella. She accepted the gift in the spirit it was given. She genuinely appreciated my offer and didn't feel it made her beholding to me at all, which of course, it didn't. I guess I wanted Jasper to know I had done my best for her before he could himself.
I had to get these two together. Maybe I should invite him here to stay and conveniently 'forget' Bella and I had to work. I'm sure Alice would make his stay bearable.
I hurriedly sent him a text, giving him Bella's new apartment number and suggesting he stay in the guestroom if by any chance Bella and I were gone by the time he got here.
"Why would I come visit if you two aren't there? I don't fancy a vacation away to be all by myself."
"You wouldn't be alone. Bella has a couple of guests we would rather not leave here by themselves and you'd be the perfect stand in host," I replied.
"Are we talking visiting great aunts who need someone to show them around the city or hot, sexy babes?"
"You will have to see for yourself," I answered. "I promise you will adore one of them, at least, and she is unattached, as in, has no boyfriend."
"I guess it's the neighbourly thing to do then," he replied.
x~x
Bella looked bored to bits and Jay looked annoyed to see me. I could see he was enjoying the scenery. She looked amazing. For some reason, it seemed she had decided signing on the various dotted lines was something worthy of dressing up for, and she had put on her best frock; the one that showcased her pretty boobs and showed them off at their best angle. Jay was having trouble remembering to look her in the eye.
"Edward," she said in clear delight, and my heart beat a little faster, even though I knew Alice would have gotten a similar greeting. She just wanted to be rescued.
"Marcus wants to see us. It seems the holiday is over."
She stood up quickly, and held out her hand.
"Thanks for everything, Mr Jenks. We must get together again sometime. Bye."
Jay half raised her hand to his lips before catching my eye and changing it into an awkward handshake of sorts.
Bella grinned and grabbed my hand and pulled me towards my car.
"God, I thought I was going to spend ten minutes max, signing papers and then I could get out of there but he insisted on explaining everything in words even baby Tom would understand, and he went over every paragraph, and explained it in minute detail. Then when it was finished, he even started telling me about just about every contract he has ever witnessed. I thought I'd be stuck here until he expired from old age."
"I think he was enjoying your company," I replied.
Bella placed her hands under her breasts and cupped them ,causing instant consternation in my pants.
"I think he enjoyed the company of these," she replied, dropping 'The Girls' and putting on her seatbelt. "I'm pretty sure he could recognize them in a line up, not that I think he'd know my face well enough to pick me out by that."
"They are a pretty pair. Cut him some slack. At his age I dare say he is not often confronted by anything so wondrous."
"Thanks, Edward. I think," she replied. "So, who has offed who?"
"No clue. Marcus just said get you and bring you here so I know nothing yet either."
I have to say at this point, I hate cases involving kids.
It's one thing when a spouse offs a spouse, but surely by the time things get that fraught, there have been clues that not all's well at home, and the victim could guess it was probably time to call it quits and split. If they stayed, well, maybe they knew, or should have guessed, it might come to this.
But kids were different. Where they lived was completely the choice of their parents. They could not jump on a train or a plane and get the Hell out of Dodge before the shit hit the fan.
Marcus sat there, explaining we had one body; a single mother in her thirties, and a missing three year old.
I hated the term 'single mother' for women who had been married and subsequently deserted by their spouse. To me, single mother should be reserved for women who made that choice; to have a child without benefit of a husband. It seemed rude to label them all the same.
I knew I was simply distracting myself, to not think about the missing kid. A three year old was really young to be left all alone and the neighbours were adamant no car had arrived or left the cul de sac all night, where their houses were situated, I read in the case notes as Bella drove us there. The dead woman's house backed onto miles of deserted beach, after you climbed out past the sand dunes.
How long could a three year old survive alone?
The local lads had searched and found no sign of anyone out there.
I fell asleep for a while and when I woke up, Bella was singing along to one of her sometimes favourite cd's. It was by the band Divinyl's. I smirked as she warbled out the words.
"I love myself I want you to love me
When I feel down I want you above me
I search myself I want you to find me
I forget myself I want you to remind me
I don't want anybody else
When I think about you I touch myself
Ooh I don't want anybody else Oh no, oh no, oh no "
I placed a hand on her knee and she stopped singing and looked at me.
"No need to do that, Baby. I can always help you out."
It had been a joke, but something struck home.
Maybe the only way I had to get under Bella's skin was to settle for less, at least initially.
Maybe the way to her heart was not through her stomach, but lower.
At least I would have the chance to make love to her, even if it never got me what I really craved.
She was already missing sex. How do I know? Three years as her partner, I could read the signs.
This Divinyl's cd for one. This only got played when she was itching. Usually it signalled that she was about to 'meet someone'.
What if this someone could be me?
x~X~x
"Tell me about Jane," I said, smiling at the neighbour lady who lived in the house opposite to the victim's.
She was in her late thirties, a real single Mom, and seemed vulnerable to my charms, so I had walked her down the driveway, away from where Bella was being updated by the local police lads.
"She moved here just before she got pregnant. Her husband was a nice guy. You never can tell, right?"
"He didn't turn out to be Mr Right?" I asked.
"Jane confided in me that he had this thing going with his PA practically from the day Jane got pregnant. She was sick, poor thing. All day sickness, I never got why they called it morning sickness. Probably termed that by a man who only hung about long enough to notice his wife was nauseous of a morning before he left for work."
"So, what happened?"
"As you can imagine, Jane wanted out. She threatened to have an abortion, so he broke up with his slut and toed the line but once little Emily was born, it was back on with full steam ahead. He said he needed the break. He needed someplace to go after work where there wasn't a screaming baby and an exhausted mother...the pig even used to accuse her of making no effort to keep herself well dressed and attractive. She had a newborn attached to her breast practically 24/7 and he's whining because she doesn't put on make-up? He was getting all the sex he wanted, from her, and sleeping over in her nice, quiet bed, while Jane walked the floor with this screaming baby. You know they pick up on your stress and react to it? That baby knew it had been fathered by a pig. No wonder she was always crying."
"So, they got divorced?"
"Yes, best thing to ever happen to Jane. At least she didn't have to put up with him and his insults any more, even if it did mean she was solely responsible for the baby. I mean, she always had been, really. It wasn't anything new."
"And the father?"
"Usual story. Got divorced, married his harlot, I just hope the good Lord blesses them with quints."
"Does he have access to Emily?"
"In theory he can have her every second weekend but he rarely bothers."
"And you are sure he wasn't around here last night or this morning?"
She waved her hand at the long road we'd driven down to get into the 'estate'.
"We'd all have seen or heard a car out here. It's a long way from the highway. The only traffic is residents coming and going, and a few visitors on weekends. Once all the workers got home for dinner last night, there was not another vehicle down that road. I don't bother with curtains; it's not like anyone here looks in, so I would have been woken up by the engine and any headlights, anyway. I swear nobody drove down here."
I shook her hand and noticed she held on a little longer than was polite. I see, another lonely housewife, stuck out here all day; nothing to do once the kids went off to school. Even though she wasn't a suspect or even connected to the case, I already knew I wasn't going to go there. Those days were over.
I have no idea how celibacy will affect me and my moods, but I guess we are about to find out. Bella giving up sex just made it feel like I should too, or I'd really start feeling bad around her.
It was her that I wanted and I no longer felt compelled to use anyone now. It felt tacky.
Hamburgers fine when it keeps you satisfied, but now I wanted steak.
Bella was wearing paper foot covers and was gearing up to go inside and see the body in situ.
I knew she acted tough, but I alone stood close enough to her to hear when she let go of the breath she always held until she witnessed the body herself.
I pulled covers over my own shoes and took her arm.
"The prick hanged her. I hate hangings," Bella whispered. I wasn't a fan, myself, either.
We walked in and stopped just inside the front door. Jane Weathers body swung silently on the rope someone had tied to the rail of the top of the staircase. It was clearly a well constructed house. Most rails are spindly and made from pine these days and would have snapped and probably saved her life, ironically, had the builder been the average type of penny pincher.
"Can someone cut her down?," Bella asked.
The medical examiner was standing by, and he nodded that all the photos had been taken already so there was no reason to leave her hanging.
"Air" Bella whispered and I marched her through the house to the backdoor. She sank onto the threshold and reached for her cigarettes.
Bella only smoked at times like these. The bad moments. I was tempted to join her but I'd been nicotine free for over a year now and loathed the idea of ever having to go through withdrawal again. It wasn't worth the brief respite a cancer stick would provide. If I smoked a single cigarette today, I'd be hooked again within the week. It was just the facts.
I'd given up too many times in the past, then some crisis had crashed into my life and had me back on them, like a baby needing a pacifier. Oral fixation. I swear we got it from breastfeeding. As infants we cried and our Moms put something in our mouths; breasts, bottles, paci's and we sucked our way to serenity and calmness.
For some of us, it was a habit we never outgrew.
I took a piece of gum from my pocket and popped it into my mouth. A poor substitute, but it was all there was.
"Is that Nicotine gum?" Bella asked worriedly, putting out her cigarette after a single puff. She was aware I had been a Nicotine gum addict. Sometimes I'd contemplated taking up smoking again just to get off the gum. But I was 'clean' these days and my gum was simply peppermint flavored.
"Nope, it's just gum," I replied, leaning against the door jamb. The backyard had been landscaped, stepped with retaining walls holding the sand back at different levels, starting at about three foot high but becoming ever smaller until the edge of the property. It had been a thankless task and the wind had blown a lot of sand back, so now each wall, made from green stained logs, held up a mini sand dune of their own. The child must have had fun, jumping down from one level to the next, in better days gone by. The few plants Jane had added were struggling to survive, with half their stems under sand piles.
Nature was taking back her own land.
There was no dividing fence between Jane's yard and the beach, which may have helped keep the sand away.
The beach stretched out of sight. The dunes were starting to get cold and dark as the sun started to set behind them. If Emily was out there, dressed in lightweight day clothing, I didn't fancy her chances of making it until the dawn.
"Detectives, I'm taking the body now. I'll do the autopsy first thing, if you want to be there. Seven a.m. sharp."
He pushed a small card into my hand.
"We will be prioritizing locating the child, so if there's been no new joy finding her, we will await your report," I replied. I hated post mortems. Better we didn't get to see what we were made of.
"It will be ready for your perusal by one o'clock," he promised. "I'm not expecting any surprises. Her hands were tied behind her back with duct tape. It seems a clear case of murder by persons unknown. I can't imagine that will change."
I thanked him and walked him out the front.
Overnight accommodation had been arranged for us in the one motel the estate had, but it was virtually next door.
When I returned, Bella wanted to make tea in self catering motel room. Several officers accepted my offer of tea or coffee and I collected our supplies from the car. We never used anything provided in motels; we even brought our own electric jug and mugs. I just could never bring myself to drink from a mug that had been used by a lot of unknown strangers before me.
I know that sounds obsessive, but I have my reasons.
I'd once questioned a cleaner in a motel as she worked, and sure, she used her cleaning cloth to wipe the inside of the electric kettle first, then dried the dishes with it before wiping down benches, tables, etc, until she finally wiped over the bathroom sink, and then the toilet.
That was fine.
Cleanest to dirtiest.
Except she then moved on to cleaning the next room, and that same cloth was used inside it's electric jug in turn.
"Why haven't they brought in a dog?" Bella asked, as she poured the boiling water into the mugs that I'd put teabags or instant coffee into.
"Too remote. There will be one here by morning. We aren't in the city now. Everything's a pretty far distance from this estate," I reminded her. After we'd left the highway, Bella had become convinced the Satnav was faulty after we'd driven for over forty minutes without passing a single dwelling. This was a satellite estate; built in the hope one day there would be many more the same as it's neighbours, then the area would qualify for shops and schools and maybe even a mall. As it stood, mothers had to drive their kids down to the highway of a morning to be collected by the school bus, and be there in the afternoon to bring them the rest of the way home. I dare say if a Mom was running late, a neighbor would bring her kids back. It would be extremely dangerous leaving a child waiting beside the busy highway.
I hoped to God that Emily stayed well away from the road, and of course, from the sea; the other danger laying in wait if she veered off a safe straight direction over the sand hills.
"We can't do any more tonight. We'll be back at first light," the copper in charge announced and they trooped out and left us to wash up.
Bella had packed us a picnic dinner, so we sat and watched the sun go down behind the ocean as we ate, then I suggested one last walk along the sand. The others had walked this way for hours, but if Emily was out there, maybe she would turn back and come home looking for her Mom.
We did a quick survey of Jane's yard again.
Bella walked to the edge of a retaining wall and jumped down the three foot or so to the next level of yard. It was like giant steps, made for a race much larger than mere humans.
I got our coats from the car and threw a picnic blanket over my shoulder, in case we were lucky enough to locate the toddler. If she was alive, she'd be cold. If she wasn't, her body would still need covering.
"Edward! Detective Cullen," Cindy, the friendly neighbour I'd interviewed earlier called as she crossed the road.
"What can I do for you?" I asked.
"My son just told me Jane bought Emily a dog. A puppy, really. I wondered if you wanted me to look after it tonight?"
"There is no dog here," I replied, "But thanks. If it turns up, I'll bring it over. Do you know what breed?"
"Something black and white with big feet, Simon tells me. I didn't see it myself. He says they brought it home last weekend and he was throwing sticks for it out behind Jane's house."
"Thanks for telling me," I nodded and locked the car.
"Would you like to come in for a drink?" she offered.
"Thanks, but I have my partner waiting for me on the beach," I answered, leaving it to her to figure out if I meant partner as in work colleague, or otherwise.
Bella grabbed her coat and threw it on against the cold wind that had sprung up. I put the blanket around her shoulders, then added my arm once I had my own coat on, and we walked along the seashore, lighting our way with torches, and calling Emily's name at regular intervals.
x~X~x
BPOV
And this is why I'm never having kids. They are far too vulnerable. Once we knew for sure that the absent father did not have his daughter with him, the other possibilities were frightening.
Maybe whoever killed Jane had taken her, though how he got here and got away with a three year old on foot, unseen, was a mystery. Why did a killer take a three year old girl? I didn't like to think about it.
Maybe his own child had died and he was taking her to keep and raise with his loving wife, who couldn't have another baby. I wanted to believe that. I guess it was like believing that all dogs that 'went to the farm' ended up playing out in the fields, chasing squirrels and enjoying a long and happy life.
That's what we wanted for Emily; for her life to go on, and be full of happiness. Maybe at three she was young enough to have no real memories yet laid down of her mother. Maybe she would go live with Daddy and stepmom and they'd become decent parents to her. We can but hope.
Edward was trying to keep my spirits up, and his own, but it was a struggle. This child had been missing for well over twelve hours at least, if the coroner was right with his 'guestimate' that Jane had been killed late last night or early this morning.
How selfish and petty I now felt, for having been forced to spend the morning with Jay Jenks, and wishing I could be anywhere else. I could have been here, being tied up, and having a noose put around my neck, and been tossed off the landing. It put things into perspective.
The wind was freezing, and Edward kept me on the more sheltered side of his body. After an hour or so, he stopped.
"I'm taking you back to the Motel. You are going blue around your lips." We turned and started back the way we had come.
"Are you staying there with me?" I checked. Knowing Edward, he would never curl up in a warm bed while a little girl was outside, wandering around alone. Of course, that was just one possibility. I knew we were both thinking the same thing.
"If the report comes back tomorrow that only Jane's fingerprints are on that duct tape, we have to consider she has killed Emily and buried her somewhere, and then topped herself."
Edward shook his head.
"Not again. Surely. How many mothers kill their kids to get revenge on a deadbeat father?"
We'd recently been on a case where the family involved had appeared to have it all.
He was good looking and popular, the Captain of the college football team back in his day.
She was gorgeous; the leader of the A list girls, who'd gone on to marry her perfectly matched sweetheart from way back beginning in High School.
They had a big house, two fancy cars in the driveway; good jobs, and two kids.
It seemed like what most people aimed for.
But the husband had lost his high paying job in IT and couldn't find new employment. As the bills mounted up unpaid, they'd survived just on the wife's wage but they were going backwards fast. The cars had been sold, and a clunker now sat in the driveway all alone.
He'd felt inadequate and left, for their own good. One less mouth to feed on her income.
Unable to stand everyone knowing the once golden couple was done, and the house would be repossessed, the wife smothered the two kids then topped herself.
At first everyone assumed it was a triple murder and the husband had killed them all to end their 'suffering'. Being unemployed, he'd had no alibi so we'd gone down the obvious but wrong path trying to hang it on him for an entire week before I suggested an alternate scenario.
This case is different.
Jane's ex-husband has an alibi a mile wide. Even if she died at the earliest time suggested by the coroner, last night he was staying at his parents house along with his two brothers and their families. It had been their Mother's birthday, and the family had partied into the early hours, all in full view of one another. He never left, not for a minute.
He had slept on a pullout in an upstairs study area off the only guest room where his brother and sister-in-law slept.
The other couple had slept downstairs in the sitting room, right beside the front door and both swore they would have woken up if he'd had to get past them.
This morning he drove straight to work, and was then surrounded by a hundred employees. He'd arrived exactly fifteen minutes after leaving his parents house, as expected, there was no missing time.
There is no way she set this up to blame him. She could have put sugar in his petrol tank and made sure he broke down somewhere with no witnesses, if she wanted him in the frame. No, we are looking at a stranger, or maybe someone new in Jane's life.
"Anyway, how could she get over the rail if she tied her own hands up first? There's no way she did it afterwards, when she was hanging in mid air with a broken neck."
"Edward, she may have been killed just so whoever did it got to steal Emily. It's the most obvious motive. Jane owned nothing worth stealing, and she had little money. That house is clean but it has things that need repairing, anyone can tell that. It's obvious she can't afford repairs as well as the mortgage so kidnapping for ransom is out. And why kill her if they wanted a ransom? Who would pay it?
If her ex cared enough about her to pay a ransom for the child, then he would have made sure Jane had enough money to keep the house in good shape, surely. He is living paycheck to paycheck. He has two households to contribute to. He may only give Jane the bare minimum, but he did pay. And he has zero interest in his child, so I don't believe he paid anyone to kill Jane and bring him the kid somewhere down the track when things cool off. I don't think he is involved."
"So, that leaves us with someone who wanted a child, and that means either a pedo or a bereaved mother. I hope it's a mother. Anyway, you need to have a warm shower and heat up then get some sleep, so come on."
"I'm not staying in the Motel if you aren't," I stated.
"Be reasonable. I can't sleep in a bed if Emily's possibly out here somewhere, alone."
"And I can? Get real. We both go, or we both stay."
Edward put up the two man tent in the middle of Jane's backyard, down in a more sheltered area rather than up near the level play area near the back door. The wind decreased down here, like we were in a bunker of sorts, with the retaining walls above us and others falling away below.
Edward zipped me into a sleeping bag, then got inside his own. I knew once I fell asleep, he'd be gone.
"You can't leave me; this still could be some random maniac. If he comes back to the scene of the crime, he'll find a fresh victim ready and waiting, snoring her head off in a tent in the backyard," I pointed out. As Edward knew, I could sleep through an atomic explosion. If this guy did come back, he'd have my throat slit before I even knew he was there, even if he made tea and scones first.
Not that many criminals actually returned to the scene of the crime. That myth had come about from books and tv shows.
"Okay, you win. Bloody Hell, it's freezing."
We both knew if Emily was out there, it was already too late.
We lay side by side, shivering. Finally, I decided to man the fuck up.
"Edward, are these the kind of sleeping bags that zip together to make one big one?"
"I ggguess so," he replied, his teeth chattering.
"Then zip the mofo's together and let's share body heat."
He did it without delay and we cuddled up together. I was always way warmer than he was. I don't think he carries enough body fat, myself. At least I have my bum and my boobs.
He is all muscles and tight skin.
"For God's sake, your hands are frozen," I complained. I took them in mine and rubbed them rapidly then gave up and forced them up inside my sweater, on to my bra clad boobs. The bra was tiny and hardly thick, so heat radiated through the inadequate fabric.
"Edward, keep in mind they are just boobs and this doesn't mean we are engaged," I joked as his fingers flexed and molded around each breast. His nose was against my neck and I heard his breathing change.
Honestly,men.
All I wanted to do was save his digits from frostbite and he was getting all overheated instead.
"We still might freeze to death tonight. At least let me kiss you," he growled. He did kiss random women all the time, this was hardly special. Just a way to thaw out our lips.
"Okay, kiss away," I replied. I seemed to be losing my resolve to keep him at arm's length lately, as per my rules. I'd missed him while he was forced to go sleep in his own apartment because Alice had my bed and I had the sofa monster. He'd even delayed his visit to see his parents for some reason.
Now we were moved into the loft apartment, there would be plenty of room for everyone though his bedroom was on a whole level lower than mine. No more chatting before we fell asleep, or bantering in the morning to argue about the coffee rota.
He didn't wait for a second invitation and, okay, to be honest, I was impressed. I guess lots of practice makes Edward a good kisser. His hands jumped from my breasts to my hair, and he tangled his hands through it and drew me in closer, then would remember he actually had my permission to go to second base and they would be back. Then they'd be on my back, rubbing circles on my skin. I felt my bra unclip and shook my head. He wanted naked boobie handling.
I amused myself by comparing him to other guys who had been there before already, and he was definitely the most gentle of the lot. He was caressing , rather than groping which was a much more familiar feeling.
My body started to light up at his touch and I pulled away from his lips to end the connection and he reacted by lowering his head and taking my nipple inside his lips. Okay, maybe I took a few minutes to regain my senses and push him off, but I did. Eventually. After he sucked the other nipple as well, and one hand was wandering down my abdomen.
Celibacy is working out great for me so far. If I didn't keep Edward away from a certain apex between my legs, we'd be naked and shagging in minutes.
I turned and wriggled so my back was against his chest. So much safer, I thought, until I realized now I had something large and hard pressed against my bum.
"Edward," I warned. He shifted his pelvis back a bit and settled down spooning my body against his, with those now cosy hands massaging my damply tipped mammaries. It was soothing; his touch comforted me. I was asleep in no time.
I awoke in the early morning light to a wet tongue licking my face.
"Edward," I growled, slapping out at him and instead, came into contact with a soft, warm, fur covered bundle. I opened my eyes and sat up.
"Wha..." Edward complained as he felt my body desert his.
"Look, we have a puppy. It followed me home, Dad, can I keep it?" I joked.
Edward sprung up and took the dog from me.
"This must be the dog the neighbour said Jane bought for Emily. Where on earth did it come from? How come we didn't see him last night?"
The pup wriggled in his arms and started licking Edward's face with it's long tongue.
"Get up. I'll put him down outside and see where he goes."
The pup lay at our feet so Edward started playing with it, tossing sticks that the puppy ran to but didn't attempt to pick up, and I suggested maybe if he ignored it, it might go back to wherever it had slept.
It worked. The pup got bored with us taking no notice and scrambled off over a retaining wall, and suddenly disappeared. Edward followed at a run, and dropped down onto his knees, throwing back the build up of sand frantically.
Next thing, he pulled a small child from within the mini sandhill and lay her on her back, clearing her mouth. I dropped beside the still form and started CPR on her chest while he breathed into her mouth. I was about to suggest we call 911 when she started crying and spitting sand at him.
Edward scooped her up into his arms and ran for the house while I followed and called for an ambulance.
She was clearly breathing okay alone, as her wails proved so I started washing the sand from her nose and mouth and face, and smoothed her hair from her eyes.
Her limbs were coated in sand grains and he was rubbing her arms between his hands, warming her up.
"Bath," I said, not really sure it was the right thing to do, but this kid had already come back from the dead. Edward bagged her clothes, from the little padded parka to her underthings plus her jeans, T shirt and sweater. On her feet she was wearing knitted socks and gumboots that seemed to have saved her toes from frostbite. She was thirsty, and kept sipping the bathwater. I checked her carefully for any discoloured skin and found none.
"Are you Emily?" I asked. Chances were, she was. She agreed.
"Memily" she said, pointing at herself.
"Bella," I replied, doing the same.
She grinned.
"Where were you hiding?" I asked.
"Bad Mommy put Memily in Jakey's kennel," she said crossly, sucking water from the sponge into her mouth.
Bad Mommy may have saved Emily's life. Jane must have seen him coming, and hidden her child as best she could.
She was clean and still chatting by the time the paramedics arrived, so they dried her off and checked her over before I dressed her from clothing in her bedroom and handed her to them.
Once the ambo left, Edward and I went back to where he had pulled Emily from the hole and he dug again, revealing a complete dog kennel, buried in the sand. It's back wall was against the retaining wall in the garden bed, so maybe the sand had just blown over it a bit at a time, night after night, since they put it here. Maybe by yesterday, just the entrance was left exposed. Jane had covered it with an old blanket that smelt rather doggy, and must have warned Emily to stay quiet and not come out, no matter what. More sand must have blown over and hidden the blanket completely. It had been the perfect hidey hole. Not one of us had even noticed it there in the sand. Of course, the cave-in this morning would have been fatal had Edward not found her so quickly after it occurred.
She had been relatively safe and warm in there, until Jakey the dog had decided to escape. Still, he had saved her life, and no doubt his body had kept her warm all night just as Edward's had kept mine snug and cosy. Or vise versa. Whatever. That's what friends are for.
Edward took the dog over to the neighbour's house and I watched amused as he wriggled out of various invitations, for breakfast, hot coffee or "anything else you need, Detective."
I walked back to the motel and took a shower.
First I had to shake a ton of sand from my clothes, and I discovered my bra was missing. Completely. How the fuck had he managed to get it off me while I was fully clothed, without waking me up?
My nipples pebbled at remembering his touch, and I sighed.
"Abstinence, remember, Bella? There's no room in your life for any man at all, least of all your partner, no matter how freaking beautiful he may be. And how soft his touch is.."
This was not helping.
The door edged open. Edward stood there for a moment, taking in everything with his emerald green eyes, then he raised a hand and covered them while his lips smirked.
"Like that counts after you already peeped," I growled. He dropped his hand and looked openly, smiling at what he saw, and evidently liked. I felt my body flush from head to toe.
"Even better than I imagined. I found this. I thought you might need it," Edward replied, pulling my lacy white bra from where it had been lost, inside his jeans pocket.
I turned off the water and stepped out, daring his eyes to leave my face and roam downwards as I grabbed for my towel, and wrapped it around my torso.
"Spoilsport," he muttered.
"You must tell me sometime how you manage to train bras to drop off their owner and end up in your pocket."
He shrugged.
"I think it was an accident."
"Then you had better leave before my knee has an accident with your groin," I threatened, pushing him out the door and closing it.
I dressed and joined him in the kitchenette, and ate the bacon sandwich he offered me. He grinned as I consumed it in three bites. If men are looking for some dainty skeleton girl who pushes salad around a plate and never actually eats, this is the wrong girl. I eyed off Edward's sandwich until he tore it in half and handed the larger portion over. I demolished it as well, then I poured us some coffee and cooked him some more bacon.
I can cook, when I'm not ravenous.
"You fed me, now I'm feeding you," I said, making his second sandwich.
"Actually, I believe I prefer breastfeeding," he smirked.
I hit him.