Happy Saturday!
First of all, thank you for all the reviews and alerts!
Someone commented on hating having to wait a week for such short chapters. People used to my work know that normally I'm wordier than this, but this story has a different rhythm to it, and shorter chapters (shorter for me) fit that rhythm better. That said, this isn't properly a drabble-today's chapter clocks in at 3k.
As to update schedule, ICYMI, I'm still writing this behind the scenes, and it's still being edited. By posting BEFORE I was done writing I'm breaking one of my self-imposed rules, i.e. to post once the work is entirely pre-written. So weekly posting is my compromise-you get a chapter a week, but you get one every week, no hiatuses or breaks, and I get time to finish writing this puppy. It's not going to be long now. I'm seeing light at the end of the tunnel, and I might be able to go to double weekly updates when I'm done. I'll keep you posted.
Usual disclaimer applies - I still don't own any of it. I just like to play with the characters ;-)
Team Momo wouldn't exist without Midnight Cougar and Alice's White Rabbit with their red pens, or without AGoodWitch, Driving Edward, Mel, Maplestyle, and Eternally Addicted who pre-read and tell me if I'm off my rocker or not.
Reminder on chapters: unless indicated, odd-numbered chapters are in EPOV, even-numbered ones are in BPOV.
Today we hear from Edward. LawyerWard is taking Bella on another date.
Chapter 7 - EPOV
"Come here, darling. Let me look at you."
"I've missed you," Bella said.
She'd just opened her door to let me in, and I didn't see anything other than her. Her admission filled me with joy and reassurance that she felt something for me. And hope that, in time, she'd feel as deeply as I did for her.
"I've missed you, too." I gathered her in my arms, swaying her from side to side. "It's been a miserable week without you."
"We had dinner on Monday," she countered.
"True, but spending the entire week in Ithaca in meetings isn't my idea of fun. Ready?"
I'd been roped into faculty meetings even if my position didn't warrant it. As a visiting professor for the semester, I didn't have any administrative duties. I was contracted to come in, do my two lectures a week, have office hours, and fly back to Atlanta. But I was starting to suspect the Dean of Cornell's Law School wanted to entice me to join the faculty full time.
Bella threw a quick glance around her apartment, then grabbed her purse and her coat. "I'm ready to go now."
I followed her out the door and waited while she locked up. For a second, I thought about asking her to put together an overnight bag and spend the night with me, but Emmett's latest words of wisdom resurfaced. I'd give her time, if it meant securing a long-term future with her.
She laced her fingers with mine, and we walked to the elevator together.
"This sucker is on the top floor again. It'll take ages for it to come down here. Let's just take the stairs," she said.
"Someone's impatient."
"Or paranoid. This thing broke down twice last week. I'm not about to test whether it'll break a third time. Not tonight." She delivered her line with a brilliant smile in my direction, and I soaked up the attention.
"Is it even safe?" I asked as we turned into the stairwell.
She chuckled. "Yes. A new one is being installed shortly; it's already scheduled. Don't switch into overprotective gear yet. This is just me not wanting to tempt fate. We have a date to get to."
"And you haven't told me where we're going or what we're doing yet."
She'd insisted on planning our outing tonight and had been cagey about details. I'd bristled at her idea at first but relented when I realized that an overarching need to control every single aspect of our relationship didn't bode well for our future chances. And I wanted those future chances badly.
When we got to my car, which I'd parked across the street from her building, she whistled at me.
"What's with the whistling?" I asked, opening the car door for her.
"Looking sexy tonight, counselor," she said. "I don't think I've ever seen you wearing jeans. Not even on casual Fridays."
The firm allowed employees and associates to dress down on Fridays if they didn't have client meetings or court appearances. But being a renowned stickler for rules, I never took advantage of it.
"You gave me scant but clear instructions for tonight. I was told to dress casually. This is me complying with your instructions, love."
I rounded the car, got into my seat, and started the engine. "So, where are we off to?"
She rattled off an address, and I plugged it into the GPS. I noticed she still didn't name the establishment we'd be patronizing for the evening.
"Well, feel free to dress casually more often. Those jeans do wonderful things for your ass."
My eyebrow rose at her compliment. "Who knew Bella Swan was so forward? But thank you; that just made my ego's month."
She chuckled, then smiled at me as I maneuvered into traffic. "I don't normally comment on people's butts in the office. That'd be inappropriate."
Echoing her earlier words, I said, "Feel free to be inappropriate with me whenever you wish, darling."
Then the conversation diverged into more mundane territory. She asked about my week in Ithaca and my lectures, and I reciprocated with questions on how her master's was going.
"You don't sound too pleased about your foray into academia," she commented.
I'd just groused about the endless, pointless meetings I'd been roped into. "It's not academia per se. I love teaching. It's the admin crap I have no patience for."
"Says a guy who's involved in the firm's recruiting, billing practices, and professional development committees."
I shrugged. "You do have a point. Let's say I would have rather spent the week in Atlanta so I could see more of you."
We stopped at a red light, and I ventured a look in her direction.
She blushed at my comment, then turned toward me, her features suddenly animated. "There's a thing I wanted to tell you. I just remembered."
"You seem pretty eager to tell me, so go ahead."
She moved to weave her fingers with mine where my hand lingered on the gear shift.
Bad driver's habit of mine, but I couldn't complain if it made it easier for Bella to hold my hand. I loved her touch. She was always deliberate, intentional with it. I couldn't help but feel that she knew how much all of this meant to me—how she was starting to be more carefree and open around me. I cherished it.
The place we were headed to—whatever it was—wasn't far away from Bella's apartment, and we turned onto the right street after the light turned green.
"I did some thinking and considered things from another perspective. If you still want to, I'd love to go ahead and do the paperwork with HR."
While my gaze roamed the street for a parking spot, for a second, I missed the gist of what she'd just said. Then it sank in. HR. Paperwork.
"To disclose our relationship?"
"Yes," she replied.
As luck would have it, I spotted an empty parking stall a few yards ahead and dove right into it. I needed this fucking car to be stationary, stat. No sooner had I pulled the parking brake that I unclicked my seatbelt to lean over to Bella.
With her face cradled in my hands, I stared into her eyes. I drank her in from memory, mired in darkness as we were, with the pulsing lights of passing cars and the sounds of the city around us.
"You want to make it official? Truly?" I prodded. I needed her to be absolutely sure of us.
Her radiant smile said it all. "Yes. I'm sorry it took me a while to decide. But I'm ready now."
My feelings took over. I brushed my lips to hers, and when she responded, I couldn't help it. I had to taste her. All of my longing, desire, lust, and love overtook reason. She sighed into my mouth when I massaged her tongue with mine, and a growl emerged from my throat, unbidden. A stranger's catcall in the distance fell on me like a frigid shower. Reluctantly, I slowed down to a rain of chaste kisses, but still held her despite the awkward position we were in, divided by the car console.
"I got carried away. I'm sorry."
She chuckled and bopped my nose. "Don't be. I liked it."
I nuzzled her nose, kissed her again for good measure, then sighed. We had to get out of this car. There would be more canoodling later; I'd make sure of it. I disentangled myself from our embrace, and finally, glanced at the lighted sign on the building.
"Some Like It Axe? What is this place?"
It looked rustic, a bit like a western saloon or pub.
"It's an axe throwing place."
We got out of the car and walked up to the entrance.
"Now, darling, why are we throwing axes tonight? Do we have an axe to grind?"
She snorted. "As if they've not heard that one before. You're hilarious, counselor."
"Thankfully, people don't hire me for my sense of humor. But I'm curious. How come?"
Bella rummaged in her bag for a second before she answered me. "One of the guys from my MBA class works here part-time, and he pulled some strings to book us into one of the private lanes even if it's just the two of us. Normally, they only do that for larger groups."
"I didn't know you were into this kind of thing."
"Oh, I'm not. But it sounded like good fun. Wouldn't it be cathartic to think you're throwing an axe at those stuffy academics?"
I opened the door for her, and she walked inside. The host took the info for Bella's reservation, then led us to one of the throwing lanes.
A tall, stocky guy who looked like a football player sidled up to us. "Hey, Bella! Thanks for coming in."
"Hi, Pat. Thanks for arranging this. This is my boyfriend, Edward Cullen."
"Nice to meet you, man. Boyfriend, huh?" he asked, looking at Bella. Then he turned to me when Bella nodded. "You're a lucky guy. Bella's never given two shits about the idiots in our class. And still, they moon over her."
Bella groaned. "They don't moon over me, doofus. They want my notes."
Pat snickered. "Yeah, notes. That's what they're called today. Suit yourself, girl."
"I sense a story there," I murmured into Bella's ear.
"Yeah, that Pat needs his eyes checked."
Pat heard that and sniggered as he directed us to a lane toward the back of the establishment. The place was massive. Groups and couples milled about, throwing their axes into the walls among hoots and hollers while the waitstaff expertly meandered between tables and people to deliver food and drinks.
"Okay," Pat began. "This is your lane for the next two hours, as we agreed. You can hang your coats on those hooks, and there's a cubby over there for your bag, Bella."
I helped Bella out of her jacket, then hung our stuff as instructed.
Pat continued. "This is where I go over safety. You two don't look like the kind who'll throw an axe at the staff, but still." He recited the rules of the game, then demonstrated a couple of times how to throw the axe.
"You wanna try, Bella?" he asked her with a rabble-rousing glint in his eye.
Bella pushed her sleeves up to her elbows and stepped closer to the throwing mark. "Hell, yes. I'll imagine it's Professor Prick's face over there."
Pat hissed. "Couldn't happen to a nicer guy. Let's see your stance first."
Bella grabbed an axe from the wall, checked her feet, balanced the axe a few times, then hurled it against the wall. Unfortunately, her throw fell short, and the axe landed unceremoniously on the floor.
"Shit."
Pat shrugged. "You'll get better over time; don't worry. Are you good over here? Drinks? Food?"
I looked over at Bella, who nodded at me. "We wouldn't mind some grub," I replied.
"I'll send someone over to take your orders. The menus are in that slot on the wall. Have fun, kids."
"Thanks, Pat. See you later."
Pat saluted Bella, then left.
"It was good of him to arrange that for you."
"He's a good friend. We paired up to study a lot of stuff over the years, and since he works two jobs, I lend him my notes whenever I can."
Her remark reminded me that Bella inhabited a world I'd left behind decades ago—being almost forty, I'd forgotten the reality of grad students juggling jobs and their studies. Even though I'd not had to struggle, thanks to my parents' background, Carlisle and Esme had insisted Em and I keep jobs throughout school. I wondered what would happen with Bella's life once she graduated. I was taking for granted that she'd keep working at CCM Legal. But was that her actual plan? I didn't know. More things to talk about.
"Well, let's see about this axe throwing thing. I believe you can do better, darling. With the right motivation, that is."
She crossed her arms and looked at me with fire in her eyes. "Really? What would that be?"
I put my hands to her hips, moved her to the throwing mark, and stood close behind her with my head propped on her shoulder. With my arm wound around her waist, I pointed my finger to the wall. "Maybe this Professor Prick isn't enough of a motivator. Pick someone else. Someone who makes your blood boil. Then throw the damn hatchet."
With her eyes narrowed to slits, she pondered my words for a long beat of silence. Then she sighed and turned toward me. Her lips were a breath away from mine. "I'm ready."
I passed her the axe. "Do your worst." I stepped away to the side so she'd have space for her throw.
She swayed her hips a little, trying to balance the axe before she threw it. The determined look in her eyes and her confident stance as she held that axe in her hands had an unexpected effect on me. I liked it. I liked it a whole lot. She meant business, and it was hot as hell to watch her, even if she acted like nobody else was around her. She was in a bubble, and I was too mesmerized by how fucking sexy she looked that I didn't dare disturb her. I drank her in.
"Yes!"
She'd done it. The axe landed on the wall with a decided thwack. Perfect throw. Who or what had been the driver behind such a lethal move?
She jumped a little, then threw herself into my arms. "I did it!"
"I'm very proud of you and a little afraid," I replied.
She kissed my chin, circling her arms around my waist. "Thank you."
"Now, I'm curious. Who did you picture there?"
"Oh, that. Grabby, obviously."
We both erupted into liberating, carefree laughter. With my head thrown back, still laughing, I picked her up in my arms and twirled her around until we both felt dizzy.
"Everything's swimming," she said later, still chuckling. "I've never seen you be so playful."
"I've never been so happy."
Who's on your axe-throwing list? I know I have a few names on mine ;-)
See you all next week!