A/N: I wrote part of this at a soft play playground called Candeeland. Not as funny as Disneyland (and don't ask me why writing at Disneyland is funny to me…), but still kinda funny.
Anyway, to answer some frequently asked questions that came up, I'm sure, because there is so much time between updates (sorry), Eddo and Bella are at her company's Christmas party. Jacob's mechanic shop is owned by that company, which is why he's there too.
Edward could practically hear his brother's voice in his head. This was exactly why rebound sex was a thing, but a rebound relationship shouldn't be.
It was complicated. Most of the time, when you fell for someone, it was a heady, consuming thing. They should have had eyes only for each other; the way it had been on their dates. She'd admitted she wanted him, and her eyes had answered most of his questions about exactly what that meant. He should have taken her by the hand and spirited her away from that place; somewhere they could have that first kiss he'd been denying himself.
But then her mongrel of an ex had shown up. Edward couldn't imagine a more crass and classless move, though who could expect any kind of respect from someone who had done what he did? He supposed it might be a matter of respect for Bella versus respect for the woman he'd left her for. It was the first big event Lizzie could have attended as the official girlfriend; she'd been the sidepiece for years, likely too aware anytime Jacob and Bella had been out together to events like this. She'd been alone for years while Jacob lived the life she wanted with another woman.
What an absolute tool.
In those first moments, when Bella was clearly shell-shocked—who wouldn't be—Edward put a hand to the small of her back, propelling her down the hall to the ballroom reserved for this particular party. There was a waiter at a table lined with glasses of champagne just inside the door. He handed Bella a glass, hiding a small smirk as she downed the whole thing, then handed her the one he'd picked up for himself and got himself a new glass.
And then, the show had been on. For once, Edward had no problem flaunting what little power he had. The strange spell Hollywood cast was a strong one. Even someone tangentially related to all the glitz and glamor was instantly intriguing to some. He played it up, name-dropping casually as the circle around them grew. He kept his hand on Bella, rubbing up and down her back in a subtle show of possessiveness.
He hoped the damn dog was watching.
When the company's CEO, a man who had been introduced to Edward as Aro Scarpinato, made his excuses, he squeezed Bella's shoulder before walking away. "Onward and upward, eh, Bella? Better to leave the mechanic in the garage." He chuckled and went off to make his rounds.
Mission accomplished. On the other hand… "Well, that was a stellar show of snobby assholery," he said, bending low near Bella's ear. "Not that your bastard ex deserves any kindness."
"But the fact he's a mechanic has nothing to do with the fact he's a bastard," Bella said. "I told you they were insufferable."
He hummed, his eyes devouring her again now that they'd been left alone. "I know better than most how much of the business world is an image game." He reached out, taking her other hand and pulling her to stand in front of him. "For the record, Bella, if the shoe had been on the other foot, you would have done amazing things for my image. Do you know how unbearably stunning you are tonight?"
She'd gone with a deep blue dress, sleek up top that devolved into a shimmering, sparkling material. The skirt fell to her knees, showing off her shapely legs. Her hair was swept up in an elegant up-do. Her skin was flawless, especially with the pink tint it had just then. She gave a soft snort. "Sure. I'd fit in with all the superstars and models."
Edward ran the tip of his finger along the underside of her jaw. "You think not? If I brought you to one of those parties, I'd bet a lot of money the agents and managers would be circling within the hour." He waggled his eyebrows. "So, if you're looking for a career change…"
"Ah, no." She laughed and stepped to his side so she could speak softly. "I may not like my bosses, and talking to Billy when I need to is going to be awkward, but I do actually like what I do."
"The silver screen will never know what it missed."
At dinner, they sat with a few of Bella's work friends and their mates. Her friends were delighted at their meet-cute, and he spent a considerable amount of time regaling the table with tales about how the poinsettia came to be associated with Christmas and telling them what their company really thought about them based on the flower choice of the centerpieces.
"These," he said, pointing to the bunches of small, delicate, white flowers, "are candytuft. Indifference."
One of the other women snorted. "Isn't that the truth."
"But these symbolize power and wealth," he said, pointing to the deep red flowers that made up the majority of the centerpieces. "So many mixed messages."
The others laughed, and when he looked to Bella, he was most satisfied to see she too was charmed by him.
He tried not to stare when Bella plucked the strawberry—dipped in alternating red and white chocolate stripes—from the top of her dessert and bit daintily into the tip. He tried and failed as her tongue darted out to lick away the bit of frosting on her bottom lip. Despite the fact he was full of the delicious dinner, Edward was suddenly ravenous.
As though she sensed his hungry eyes on her, Bella turned away from the coworker she'd been talking to and faced him. He leaned back, realizing too late he'd leaned in close to her, but she must have seen the desire in his eyes. Her hand dropped back to the table, resting the half-eaten strawberry on the plate, and her lips parted with an unsteady breath.
"Do you want to…" She pressed her lips together as though unsure how to finish that sentence.
Get out of here? Oh, yes. Edward did want that. He had many thoughts about the things he wanted to do with this woman away from the eyes of her colleagues.
But, he was a patient man, and she deserved a little finesse in this awkward dance they were doing.
He tilted his head, looking up at her and smiling at her in that way. He kept his tone low and quiet as he spoke near her ear. "Do you know what I want?"
"Hmm?" Her reply was little more than a squeak. She was clearly affected by his nearness.
"I want…" He couldn't resist teasing.
She angled her body toward him.
"...to check out that photo booth." He stood and offered a hand, trying not to smirk at the bewildered look on her face. She took his hand, though, and let him lead her over.
The "booth" was really a table full of props in front of a gold curtain. As they waited their turn, they browsed. She was funny; lamenting her choice to wear her hair up as it prevented her from putting on the pirate hat and eyepatch. She opted instead for a full hair and beard combo with a plastic ax to finish the lumberjack look. Edward chose a monocle and a handlebar mustache. Before he could walk away, Bella beckoned him closer. When he leaned down—better to hear her—she settled a top hat over his head.
"Goes with the suit," she said, her smile shy.
"Do you know how long it took me to get my hair in that perfect bouffant?" he said with false horror, flashing her a grin when she laughed.
When it was their turn, they stood close but not touching—both their hands were full wielding their props. They made silly faces, the bright lights effectively blinding them to the rest of the room.
"Okay, we'll do a formal one for you now," the assistant said as he took their props afterward.
"Yeah, let's have you face to face," the cameraman said, motioning them.
Edward turned to Bella, a "no thanks" poised on his lips. It seemed presumptuous, and so intimate. And yet, he found he didn't want to say no.
She didn't either; he could see the same battle in her eyes. This was confusing and out of order. Friends could take silly photos together, but this?
"Come on. Like you like each other," the cameraman encouraged.
Edward curved one hand around her waist, pulling her closer, watching her expression, ready to let her go if she looked even a little uncomfortable.
She didn't. A thrill went down his spine, and it was the easiest thing in the world for him to reach out, lightly cupping her cheek as though he'd done it a thousand times.
And in that instant, Edward knew he had made a mistake. Holding her like that, with her body pressed against every line of his and her deep, brown eyes speaking directly to his soul—everything he'd been trying not to feel got the volume turned all the way up. He liked her; liked her humor and strength and the way she felt delicate in his arms. The tenderness he felt for her knocked him breathless for a moment.
He wanted the soft things; to let all the tiny details of her consume him—her likes, dislikes, and idiosyncrasies. He wanted to wrap her in the warmth he felt toward her; to show her she was cherished. He didn't understand how he could feel that way toward her in such a short amount of time. It felt surreal. Magical.
It felt exactly like Christmas; a little mythical, and yet the emotion of it was as real as anything. Like the scent of spice and sugar, and the first bite of freshly baked Christmas cookies. Like coming home, to a place where he fit snugly. Like the cheer of bright red blooms and deep green pine, and the twinkle of lights lending beauty to the scene.
And yes, desire. When she tilted her head up, her hand cupped at his neck, it took all his willpower not to close the scant distance between them. He'd brought her to this photo booth in an attempt to diffuse the powerful pull of attraction, to slow down rather than throw them both into this whirlwind he felt nipping at their heels. But there they were, caught up in a storm that was fire and electricity.
He needed more of her.
"That's great. Beautiful. Your prints will be done in just a moment," the cameraman said.
Edward had no idea if he answered. His eyes were still on Bella. His hand slipped down from her cheek to take hers, and he brushed a thumb over her skin. He heard her quick intake of breath, and that…
Yeah. Her affect on him would be clear for anyone to see if they didn't get somewhere fast.
It took all of his willpower to take the prints calmly from the assistant.
Bella seemed to be on the same page as he was. Her step was just as quick as they made their way back to their table. "I get it now."
"Get what?" he asked, gathering his jacket and putting the two photo strips in the inside pocket before putting it over his arm.
She flashed a hectic grin. "The closet. Having sex in a closet sounded crazy, but I get it now. Why you wouldn't want to wait."
He bit the inside of his lip, his mouth slightly open as he tried to parse and process that. Certainly, a big part of him wasn't opposed to sex however she planned to offer it, but… "What?" he asked.
She laughed. "Nevermind."
Not wanting to belabor the point, he held her jacket out for her to slip into. She grabbed it, draping it over her arm instead and taking his hand again. She looked about as flushed as he felt anyway—overheated, if anything.
They walked, hand in hand, to the door.
He struggled to temper the grin that threatened to overcome him. He had the strange urge to giggle. They kept glancing at each other, and almost the second they were out the door of the ballroom, into the hallway of the venue, they turned to each other. He managed to pull her to the side, off a respectable distance, before his control snapped.
He took her face in both of his hands, almost rough but not quite. Her hands were on him, pressed against his back. She tilted her head up and he tilted his head down. He caught himself, pausing just before he gave in to the urge to devour.
No. There would be time for ravenous kisses later. It was crazy that the knowledge of it—all the kisses and touches and time they had ahead of them—settled into his being then. He breathed in through his nose, his chest filling, not with air, but with the infinite possibility of them.
He breathed in again, catching the heat of her breath on his lips. He whispered her name once, and finally pressed his mouth to hers.
It was a sweet, quick kiss at first. He pressed and pulled back, savoring the heady sensation, breathing in her skin and the hint of perfume. He pressed his lips to hers again and lingered. She made a tiny noise, her mouth moving against his, her hands against his back.
There were a few people in the hallway. Edward was only vaguely aware of them, but he didn't care. They weren't being vulgar, and the mood of the party at that point was just a little bit drunk and merry. The music inside was at full volume, and the dance floor had been packed with thrashing bodies last he'd looked.
He kissed Bella. Serious, thorough kisses. He reveled in the fact he could touch her, taste her. He drank in the feel of her hands on his back, his neck, his face. He memorized the sound of her soft sighs and little whimpers.
"Real fucking classy."
Edward was unconcerned and unashamed, but he did lift his head. It was none other than Jacob Black who stood there, alone, scowling.
There was a lot Edward could have said in that moment, but then, Bella laughed.
It was a giggle that turned into a full on cackle. One glance at her set Edward off too. He chuckled at first, but then laughed outright.
Absurd. The whole situation was utterly absurd. That ridiculous man was absurd, and Jacob didn't deserve anything but derision from either of them.
They didn't say a word to Jacob Black. Edward took Bella's hand, and they walked away, still tittering a little. By the time they got to the car and Bella pushed him against it, pushing up onto the balls of her feet so she could kiss him again, Edward had forgotten the man existed at all.
A/N: One chapter left!