A/N: I don't own Twilight or its characters; they belong to Stephanie Meyer. This is just what they got up to in my mind. I do not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement is intended.
I stood in front of my full length mirror and pulled at my skirt, hoping that would somehow make it longer. When it, unsurprisingly, didn't, I thought again that maybe it was a bit too short. Should I phone my bestie, Angela, and ask her opinion? Hmm, maybe not. That conversation would involve admitting to her that I was going on a date with Edward Cullen.
How was I going on a date with Edward Cullen? I didn't like him, remember? And he didn't like me. Except maybe he did? This whole situation was very confusing!
I sighed and sunk down on my bed. My initial excitement over the date invitation was now becoming overshadowed by my own self-doubt.
What if this was a trick? What if it was payback for my family's actions five years earlier?
In all honesty I didn't believe it was, but that time in high school with Alex was hard to forget. He'd asked me out only to leave me waiting outside the cinema and then drove past, leaning out of his buddy's car and shouting about how he'd gotten revenge on the cop who caught him buying beer when he was underage.
I shook my head to clear my overanalyzing thoughts and stood up, looking in the mirror again. I had good legs; I might as well show them off, right?
Besides, my legs were the least of my worries; I had bigger battles right now. I had to worry about my feet.
I stared at my one and only pair of heels peeking out at me from inside my open wardrobe. I wasn't sure I could be trusted in heels. As Edward had already witnessed, I was far too unsteady on my feet under normal circumstances, let alone when I had less surface area to walk on.
A quick glance at my phone told me I'd be late if I didn't hurry up, so after one last swipe of lipstick I slipped my feet into the heels and headed for my car.
Looking into the restaurant as I approached, I could see plenty of people sitting at well-lit tables. Good. I couldn't stand those dingy restaurants where you couldn't read the menu let alone see the person across the table from you. Or maybe I just needed to get my eyes tested again; I was borderline far-sighted last time. Oh well, I could see Edward's good looks pretty damn well from here so that was good enough for me.
As I was pondering my visual health I watched him, sitting alone, wiping his palms down the thighs of his pants and looking nervous. I smiled to myself, he looked pretty cute. His hair was ruffled and his white shirt was rolled up at the sleeves, showcasing his forearms and the silver wristwatch he was now checking.
It was refreshing to see a less cocky side of him. To see a guy slightly unsure of himself as he waited. I hadn't contacted him to say I'd be coming tonight so I guess he was worried I'd be a no-show.
Thankfully, he wasn't all suited up. He looked casual in a button down shirt and dark pants which was a relief because if he was dressed up I'd have felt very underdressed. Not that I'd mind being underdressed around him, he could undress me any day, just not in a restaurant, well, not on our first date anyway.
Thinking about the words first date again brought my nerves rushing back to the pit of my stomach where they tangled into a ball of nervous energy. I shook it off, clip-clopped my way to the door of the restaurant, took a deep breath and entered.
A bell tinkled as I opened the door further and Edward looked up, his handsome face lighting up with a huge grin when he spotted me.
He rose from his chair as I approached the front desk. I watched, smiling at him as we made eye contact and he walked closer to me.
"Ma'am. Ma'am?"
"Sorry?" I reluctantly turned to the suited waiter who was looking at me like he'd asked me a question several times and was eagerly awaiting my reply. Maybe he had? Maybe I should worry about my hearing more than my vision? Or maybe I should just get an all over body check. Maybe Edward could do that for me? For medical reasons of course.
I felt my cheeks redden at my inner thoughts as the waiter spoke again.
"Do you have a reservation?"
"She's with me, Lucas," Edward answered smoothly, he'd reached us and was now patting the waiter's shoulder in a friendly gesture.
"Oh, no problem, enjoy your evening, Mr. Cullen." The waiter smiled at Edward as I stepped past him. Of course Edward knew everyone here. Town hero, remember?
We walked back to the table where he pulled my chair out for me. I thanked him with a nod as I removed my coat. Immediately his gaze washed over me, taking in my legs in my possibly too short skirt. I then saw his eyebrows rise slightly at the sight of my heels. Either he really liked them, or he was wondering how long it would be until I'd fall over. Whichever it was, I was feeling rather self-conscious.
I wasn't very good with the rules of etiquette at fancy restaurants. Growing up, we'd only ever eaten out for special occasions. Birthdays, my graduation and my dad's retirement are the only times I remembered, and as an adult I hadn't been asked on too many dates that didn't involve a beer keg and a flat-bed truck. I mean, what should I do with my coat? Was there a coat check here?
When I saw that Edward's jacket was on the back of his chair, I did the same with mine, feeling relieved I'd negotiated that etiquette minefield. That was until I looked at the table and saw more cutlery than I owned in my one-bed apartment. What was it that posh woman said to Jack in Titanic? Start from the outside and work your way in. Hmmm, Titanic didn't work out so well for him. I hoped my date tonight was more successful than Jack's voyage.
"Hi." Once we were seated opposite each other, Edward leaned forward and caught my eye.
"Hi," I replied. His grin was soft and heartwarming and I could see the relief floating in his gaze.
"Thanks for coming; I wasn't sure you'd show." His honesty was refreshing.
"I appreciate the inventive way that you asked me here. I mean, how could I refuse such an original and gutsy move?"
For once Edward looked rattled rather than his usual cocky self. "I just wanted some time to sit and talk to you properly when we weren't surrounded by half the town and didn't have straw poking through our pants."
I laughed, remembering the hay bales we sat on during the thunderstorm.
"So you mentioned it to the whole county via the newspaper?"
"Sorry. Did I embarrass you?"
"No," I shook my head. "You have nothing to apologize for. It was a ballsy move that must have taken a lot of courage." I replied honestly, hoping he'd catch the sincerity in my voice.
He nodded and handed me a menu. "I'm just glad it worked. Emmett would never have stopped ripping the hell out of me if I'd done all that and didn't even get a date at the end of it."
"I'm glad I could save you from that fate," I joked.
"Me too," he replied.
An approaching waiter took our drink orders and placed a basket of breadsticks and olives down on the table, giving me time to catch my breath and calm my nerves.
"Monday is an odd night for a date, isn't it?" I asked once the waiter had left.
"I couldn't wait until Saturday," he stated sounding very serious.
"Oh." That was promising for my whole hoping-he'll-fall-madly-in-love-with-me plan.
"And besides, Monday nights they have a half-price menu."
I started to nod; I knew there had to be a catch.
"I'm kidding!" he added, relief washing over me as he closed his menu and sat back in his chair. "The truth is I figured you'd have today off work, having worked the weekend, and I didn't want to give you time to overthink things and stand me up."
I gawked at him.
"Have you ever been stood up before?"
"Well… no, but you're… different from other women. I can't seem to read you; I don't know what you're thinking or what you're going to say next." He ran his hands over the crisp white tablecloth as he spoke.
I looked at his freshly shaven jaw as well as his straight, white teeth, and forehead, which was slightly wrinkled in confusion as he waited for me to speak. I took in his Adam's apple and the chest hair poking out of his shirt. Jesus! I was so glad he couldn't tell what I was thinking right now because it would involve him removing his clothes and doing things that were highly unsuitable for a posh restaurant or a first date.
I looked at his now closed menu and closed my own. "So I'm guessing you've eaten here before? Can you recommend anything on the menu?"
"I've only been here with family. I know you seem to think I have a harem of girls but really, I haven't dated all that much."
I scoffed rather loudly, making an elderly man with far too much hair sprouting out of his ears look over and give me a harsh glare.
When I looked back to Edward he was smiling at me.
"I'm surprised he could hear me with all that bushy ear hair," I muttered, only aware I'd said it loud enough for Edward to hear when he started laughing loudly.
"Sorry. Where were we? Oh, your harem of girls. I've witnessed girls practically falling over themselves to get to you."
"The only girl falling over me is you, Bella."
I looked at him in shock, was I that transparent? Could he tell how much I desperately wanted to undo his shirt buttons and see exactly what was underneath? I picked up a few black olives, munching them slowly as I thought about that little visual for a few seconds too long.
"At the festival," Edward clarified, a cocky smirk lighting up his features, making him look playful and happy. "You'd have gone ass first into that mud if it wasn't for me," he was almost laughing at the memory and his smile made me laugh myself.
"Yes, well… let's forget about that shall we?" I answered, embarrassed as I held up my menu and buried my face in the large folder.
"I probably shouldn't order more carbs but it's all pizza and pasta," I muttered to myself as I turned the page, away from the pizza section. Next thing I knew my menu was being pulled down, away from my face as Edward looked at me confused.
"Whoa."
Now he just looked mad again, had I muttered something about Mr. Hairy Ears again? I really had no filter.
"Bella…" he continued. "Eat all the carbs you want, I sure will. I'm not judging you. You have nothing to worry about in that department."
"Edward, I'm not blind, I know full well you're used to girls who post Instagram pics with the hashtags of thigh-gap and gym-selfie."
He laughed, grinned at me and shook his head.
"You really don't see yourself clearly," he grumbled before taking a bite of his breadstick.
Hmmm, maybe I need those glasses after all?
"Why on earth would you think that?" Edward asked, pointing the rest of his bread stick in my direction.
"Because…" Wasn't it obvious?
Apparently not because Edward raised his eyebrows indicating for me to continue.
"Because...you're, you know… you're just… you're quite attractive," I uttered as he laughed.
"Quite attractive? I'll take that coming from you, besides, have you looked in a mirror recently?"
"Should I? Do I have something between my teeth?" Oh God, of course I had some green herb stuck in my teeth. Or worse, some olive blacking out a whole front tooth, making me look like a hillbilly. I reached for my hand bag but Edward rested his hand on mine, stilled my movements and suppressed a laugh as he spoke.
"Relax. Your teeth are beautiful, just like the rest of you."
"Oh." I must have spoken some of my ramblings out loud. I contemplated looking over my shoulder to check he wasn't talking to someone else but his expression was so sincere I almost believed him.
Especially when his hand remained firmly on top of mine.
"Thanks," I muttered, filling my mouth with more olives so I didn't have to speak for a minute.
Edward, sadly, removed his hand from mine when the waiter returned to take our food order.
I'd looked over the pizza choices but there were words like Matsutake mushrooms and Ossobuco topping and other equally confusing and intriguing ingredients. What the hell was on these pizzas? Where was a good old Margarita or Chicken Supreme?
Edward told me he'd eaten an awesome Margarita Bolognaise before so he ordered one of those and a seafood pizza, suggesting we each get different varieties and share the two.
Pizza and Edward seemed like the perfect combination so I forgot all about my no carbs madness and eagerly agreed.
"So," I started once the waiter had left us alone again. "How did you clear that article with your boss? My boss, Alec, would have a fit if I strayed from the story at hand. I have to 'keep focused' and 'remember the target audience'," I quoted as Edward laughed.
With a simple shrug he replied. "My dad was the Chief Editor at the paper for twenty-two years. I've only ever used that information to pull strings twice in my whole career, and that was one of them."
Huh, it must have been important to him then.
"When was the other time?" I asked as he picked up an olive and popped it in his perfectly perfect mouth.
"When I asked to remain in Forks. They wanted me closer to HQ but I assured them I could perform effective reporting from here, making the necessary visits around the county when needed."
"And they let you?"
He took a sip of his drink as he nodded.
"What's keeping you in Forks?" I asked.
"I wanted to stay close to my family and I coach the high school's soccer team. I couldn't leave them; they'd get relegated straight away!" He joked. I guess he had every reason to be cocky about his soccer talents, but I wasn't sure I was ready to talk about his past again. I didn't want the conversation to turn too serious so I resolved to leave that topic and see if he broached it himself.
He didn't.
Instead, we talked about our jobs, the colleagues we both knew, the best and worst stories we'd reported on and the crazy town folk who knew everyone's business.
Once our food arrived we shared the two pizzas with Edward eating an impressive five slices to my three. Not that it would do him any harm, I'm sure he'd run it off on the soccer field in no time.
Edward licked his fingers as he finished his last bite, giving me an eyebrow wiggle when he caught me staring at his actions.
"So," I shook my head and finished the last of my drink before carrying on. "How was Bree's party?"
His face lit up as he pushed his now empty plate into the middle of the table and sat back with a contented sigh.
"Great. She's a little firecracker; Emmett's gonna have his hands full when she's older!" he joked.
"Yeah, she seemed very… spirited," I replied.
"Hah! Yeah. I spent most of the evening explaining the difference between a girl who's a friend and a girlfriend," he answered, making my eyebrows rise.
"She saw us together and seems pretty keen for Uncle Edward to have a date."
"Oh, yeah?" I tried to keep a straight face as I imagined Edward talking his way out of that one.
"Yep. She eagerly announced to my parents that Uncle Edward should date the pretty lady at the fete. She made it into a little rhyme and everything!" I could tell Edward was trying to sound annoyed but he was smiling at the memory despite himself.
"I had to distract her with a piñata. The damn thing wouldn't hang anywhere. Emmett and I ended up screwing it to her playhouse roof," he continued while my mind was still processing the fact that I'd been called a pretty girl (this was great and very flattering) and Edward's whole family knew about me (not so great or flattering).
When I tuned back into what he was saying I stumbled, trying to carry on the conversation from what little I'd heard of his latest sentence.
"Oh, are you handy at screwing then?" I froze, coughed, and rephrased my question "I mean, with a screwdriver. I mean, are you handy with a screwdriver?"
Oh, God! Edward was now grinning at me as I felt my cheeks redden even more than usual.
"Yeah, I am. Why? Do you need help in that department?" He was trying to keep a straight face himself but he was looking awfully smug so I tried to play him at his own game.
"As a matter of fact, yes I do."
"Oh yeah?" He sat forward in his chair and tented his fingers. "What can I help you with?"
"Well…" I answered seriously, "I need a shelf fixed in my kitchen, I'm sure it's gonna fall down on my head any day now. I probably could do that myself, I'm quite good at screwing, too, but also my kitchen tap isn't right and I don't know how to fix that. Water sprays in all directions if I turn it on too hard, making me get very wet."
Edward spluttered into the remains of his drink as I placed emphasis on the words turn on, hard and wet. "Oh, okay…I can help you with that, no problem."
At that point, we were both saved from any further innuendos as the waiter passed by and Edward asked him for the bill.
"I thought we'd skip dessert?" he asked.
My stomach dropped. That was it, I'd blown my one chance with Mr. Smug Pants. Now I'd be back to takeaway meals for one and leftovers my mom dropped off in my freezer while I was at work. Damn, I knew I'd talked about screwing too much!
"Sure," I choked out, trying to sound normal.
The waiter returned quickly, angling for a good tip I think, and slipped the bill folder on the table.
Edward reached into his pants pocket. "It's on me, Bella." He spoke in an authoritative tone, shushing me immediately when I started to object.
"Please." He added. "Placate me and help me feel manly, okay?"
I could think of many, many ways I could help him feel manly. Do you think he'd like a list?
Instead I nodded, thanked him, and stood up.
As I reached for my coat he too stood up and walked to my side of the table, reaching around me for my coat and holding it open.
Such a gentleman. Even when he's trying to dump me. Wait! Can you even be dumped on a first date? Were we even dating?
"Relax." He whispered in my ear as he leaned into me while I shrugged my coat on.
"I wanted to skip dessert because I know the best ice cream parlor about five minutes' walk from here." He leaned back and grinned. "Are you up for it?"
"Absolutely," I replied, unable and unwilling to hide my own happiness. Inside I did a happy dance. But only on the inside because Edward really would dump me if he saw me dance in public. I was a much better internal dancer than a physical dancer.
"Do you think you can make it there in one piece?" Edward's gaze traveled down my legs to my high heels.
"If we go slowly," I answered with all the confidence I could muster.
"No problem. I'm in no rush to end the night."
Once the bill was paid we walked along the cobbled sidewalk in silence for a few minutes until I inevitably stumbled on the uneven surface.
Edward reached out and steadied me as I placed my hand in the crook of his arm.
"I'll just keep my hand here, you know, for support," I announced as Edward grinned.
"Sure. I think that's a good idea."
We walked further in silence until he spoke again, sounding more hesitant this time.
"Sorry if the restaurant was a bit stuffy. With hindsight, you seem like more of a picnic and beach kind of girl. I mean that as a compliment. It's nice to meet a woman who doesn't worry how many stars a restaurant has or whether they display the calorie count on the menu."
I tried to take what he said as a compliment. I knew the type of woman he meant and I was pretty sure Edward was used to dating women who knew what foie gras was and loved caviar and smelly cheese.
He was right, though, because I did not enjoy spreading food that smelled like dirty socks on my crackers. Nor did I enjoy crackers, really. They tasted too much like cardboard.
"It wasn't stuffy," I assured him with a small squeeze to his arm. "I'm just not used to dating guys who make their own money and have moved out of their parents' home!" I joked.
"Slim pickings in this town, huh?" He grinned at me. "You'll have to date the ex-con now."
"You were never convicted." I doubt he needed reminding of this but in my eyes, he wasn't a con, ex or not, and I wanted him to know that.
"Tell that to the panel on the Seattle athletic scholarship committee," he responded bitterly. "Sorry," he added mere seconds later.
His body stiffened as his free hand ran down his face in a nervous gesture.
He shook his head as if clearing his thoughts as we turned a corner and he pointed to a small cafe that was still open, serving ice cream and drinks through a hatch in the wall. It reminded me of Mr. White's ice cream van which used to drive down our street all summer long when I was growing up, tinkling its little tune.
Once we'd purchased our ice-creams (chocolate for me, coffee for Edward) we walked along the narrow street, back in the direction of our parked cars.
My heels clicked loudly but the silence was more comfortable this time as we were both licking our desserts. Edward's arm was slung casually over my shoulder but there was nothing casual about the resulting butterflies in my stomach.
I made a point to take time out from my chocolatey goodness to appreciate the feel of his body, strong and warm next to mine. It felt so good to be close to him. He smelled great, like oak and sandalwood and…home.
"So, you didn't fancy following your dad into the police force?" Edward asked, breaking the silence and surprising me with his serious question.
My footing stumbled at Edward's mention of my dad, the guy who had helped ruin his soccer dreams and big time college hopes.
If Edward noticed he didn't say anything, he just licked his ice cream in a way that made me want him to lick my parts.
I shook my head slightly, well aware he was waiting patiently for my answer.
"Err, no. My dad never wanted me to follow in his footsteps and I couldn't do that to my loved ones. I know what it's like waiting for him to return from a shift, hoping like hell that he will return…"
Edward nodded without saying anything so I continued.
"Besides," I shrugged, "being a reporter is similar. I need to be aware of what's going on in our town, get to the truth, and record the details; that sort of thing."
"Yeah, I guess so, I'd never thought of it like that before."
Sadly, his ice cream was now finished and I knew we were nearly back at our cars.
We slowed our pace as we approached my parked car.
I fumbled in my handbag for my car keys, trying to hide the immature but really cute Mickey Mouse keyring I'd had since I was a teenager. However, when I finally made eye contact with Edward I realized he wasn't looking at my keys at all.
He was looking at me.
Only me.
He was looking at me like he was angry. Maybe he had clocked Mickey and he really wasn't a fan?
Edward then wet his lips before he started to speak. Thankfully though he didn't say much, I don't think he did anyway, but I couldn't be sure because I was still processing the way his tongue darted out and wet his lips.
My stomach rolled in a delicious wave of butterflies and tension as I continued to stare at his lips.
"I… Bella… it's been…" He paused and scrubbed a hand down his face. "Fuck it," he muttered before his lips descended on mine.
I was so shocked I, of course, stumbled back against my car.
Edward's body willingly followed mine until I was sandwiched between cool metal and hot flesh. His kiss started off quite soft but grew, along with his moans, until he was driving me crazy with need.
His lips were soft and warm, making my stomach flip flop with every stroke of his tongue.
My hands involuntarily found his hair and I stroked through the short, soft strands, a move that seemed to spur him on even further. He kissed me harder, deeper, more frantically, as one of his hands held the side of my face and the other reached around to my ass.
Oh, God, I was in heaven. Edward's taught body was touching mine at every point possible. I didn't know where I stopped and he started.
One of my hands left his hair and held his jaw; feeling the vibration of his moan under my fingertips and feeling his hand squeeze my ass, bringing my body even closer to his.
Another second later, he withdrew sharply and suddenly, taking a step back and scrubbing his hand down his face. "We need… I need to stop," he whispered as he jammed his hands in his pockets as if he was trying to hold himself back.
"Really?" I squeaked out. "But it was so good!" I told him before I clapped my hands over my mouth in horror at my lack of brain filter. It was too late, though; Edward was already looking at me and chuckling despite himself.
"Exactly! That's the problem." He looked down to the ground sheepishly before taking a deep breath and looking up at me. "Oh, God, Bella, I've wanted to do that all night," he confessed as I remained speechless.
"So we should… we should do that all night…"
"But I have to walk back to my car soon," he explained with a grin.
"Yeah?" I queried, not understanding his point. Was he on a tight schedule? Because, trust me, this wouldn't take long.
"Walking there will be quite… hard… at the moment." He spoke slowly as my eyebrows rose.
"Oh? Oh! Really?" I didn't dare to look down. I was already convinced Mr. Smug Pants had a lot to be smug about and I wasn't sure I was ready to meet mini Smug Pants, here on the sidewalk. With my now messy hair.
"Sorry," I offered.
Edward held my face with both his hands and looked into my eyes. "Don't ever apologize for being you."
I placed my open palms on his chest as he spoke.
"I've had a lovely evening. Thank you."
"Do I get a goodnight kiss?" I asked, mustering all my bravado because, you know, those kisses were worth losing a bit of dignity over.
"No." He seemed adamant about this.
"No?"
"Nope." Edward shook his head as he growled out my name. "Bella… the next time I kiss you we'll be all alone, and it won't be to say goodbye, it will just be the start of things."
I took in a deep breath, swallowed and nodded. Oh, Jesus, my stomach was aching at just the thought of that happening.
"Okay," I whispered.
"Okay." He repeated with a nod of his own as he took my hand, and gave it a long squeeze before letting it go.
He turned and started to walk away before looking over his shoulder at me. "I'll call you," he told me before turning away fully. "Soon," he added, not turning back to see the ridiculously big grin on my face.
A/N: Thanks for reading and for your continued interest in this story. Please let me know what you think, your reviews really do encourage me to continue. I love to hear your thoughts and really appreciate any reviews.
Thanks to my Beta EdwardsFirstKiss and my PreReaders Sarcastic Bimbo and RebAdams who are always at the end of an email to help. Any mistakes are my own.
