A/N

Edward's busted! Let's see what's going on in his head, shall we?

Ignore my mistakes, and thanks for reading.

S. Meyer owns all things, Twilight.

Chapter 5

EPOV

Fuck.

Rose returns to the table and dishes food onto the boys' plates before sitting in her chair.

"Eat up," she says and picks up her napkin but stops, letting the cloth dangle from her fingers as she looks at us.

"What?"

"Bella's the hot chocolate, lady," George says.

Rose's brow furrows, and she looks between Bella and me.

"Hot chocolate, lady?"

"Is she, Uncle Ed?" Henry asks.

Shit.

The entire table is looking at me, including Bella.

Crap.

"Weef had to make two stwwwops," George says around a mouth full of mashed potatoes.

"George. Don't talk with your mouth full," Rose admonishes.

I pick up the glass of water sitting in front of me and take a long gulp. The boys were with me that day. I was taking them to school and stopped to pick up coffee for the team. Bella doesn't drink coffee. She drinks hot chocolate … with three marshmallows. It's just one of the things I noticed about her when we first met. And I notice a lot. It's impossible not to. The way she rushes into the office in the mornings, adorably disheveled, or how she always chats with the servers when we go to lunch, genuinely interested and making them feel seen. Or how she takes Mr. Volturi's advice but always sticks to her own ideas, seamlessly blending the two until she's won over the client. Or the way her deep brown eyes look at me when we're together, like there's nowhere else she'd rather be.

"They didn't have any at the first place," George says while spearing some peas with his fork. "So, we had to go to another one three blocks away. I thought we were going to be late for school."

Rose raises her eyebrow at me.

"But you weren't," I say, giving George a pointed look.

Doesn't the kid know about the Bro-code, for God's sake?

"He said the lady at work didn't like coffee," he says. "And we weren't giving up until we found a place with hot chocolate."

Apparently not.

Bella leans over to George.

"I'm so weird. Lucky for me, your uncle remembered."

"I like mine with whipped cream," George says. "Do you?"

"Sometimes. But I really like marshmallows."

"Me too." He smiles and then turns to Henry to tell him about something that happened in school.

"So, Bella," Rose says as she slices through her chicken breast. "Are you married?"

Well, that's one way to change the subject. Bella hesitates for a moment before answering.

"Um, no. I'm not."

Rose takes a bite but doesn't say anything else.

"Mom?"

She looks over at Henry.

"What, honey?"

"We're still getting the gaming chair tomorrow, right? You promised."

Rose chews slowly and looks at me.

"Uncle Edward and I are going car shopping tomorrow, but we'll go after, okay?"

Satisfied with her answer, he digs into his asparagus. Bella looks over, giving me a small smile. I smile back, but when she turns her attention to her meal, it slides from my face. Until today, I didn't think it mattered — that I didn't need to tell her. But now, I know I was wrong, and I'm not sure what to do about it. Rose gives me a final look from across the table, and I choose to ignore it.

~!~

"Wow," Bella says as she walks down the brick walk in the greenhouse.

Henry and George insisted on giving her a tour after dinner. She walks through the rows of geraniums and other flowery annuals, stopping to admire the pink hibiscus that's almost gone dormant but has one flower near the top.

"This is incredible."

She looks up at the sign that hangs on the wall.

"Dad made that," Henry says, and his hands rest in his pockets, making him look older than his eight years.

"Plant something that reminds you of me every time it blooms," George whispers as he touches the pink flower.

Bella glances down at him, and I see tears shimmering in her eyes.

Rose appears in the doorway of the greenhouse, wiping her hands on her apron.

"Boys, bed in an hour. You can watch tv for a little bit or game if you want."

"Dinosaur Train!" George shouts and runs past us, squeezing Rose's legs once before racing off.

Henry waters a few plants that sit on a raised stand before pinching off some of the dead leaves.

Turning to his mom, he brushes past me but not before stopping and throwing his arms around my waist. I lean down and place a kiss on his head, giving him a squeeze.

"Go get your PJs on," I say. "I'll come up and game with you in a minute, okay?"

He nods before walking up the brick steps that lead back into the house. Rose gives Bella and me a lingering look before turning and walking away as well.

"It's getting bad out there," she says over her shoulder. "It might be a good idea if Bella gets going."

I try to look out through the plastic walls of the greenhouse but can't see too much. Turning to Bella, I look down at her, catching a light flowery scent that I know isn't coming from the blooms around us. It's her. I've become all too familiar with it. It's light, like fresh jasmine that floats through the salty air at the beach.

"She's right," she says. "I should probably go."

We walk into the house, and I peer out the window at the storm blustering outside. I don't like it. Striding past her, I open the front door, and a gust of wind blows snow across the threshold in an ivory wave. Stepping onto the covered porch, I look up and down our street. It's covered in a blanket of white and is eerily quiet. No plows with flashing orange lights or beeping sounds are in sight, and the street doesn't look like it's been touched. Or if it has, it's become covered again. Coming back inside, I close the door and turn to see Bella standing in the foyer. Her coat is on, and she's pulling her hat down and putting on her gloves.

"I'm not comfortable with you driving in this," I say.

She looks up as she wraps her scarf around her neck.

"How bad is it?"

I pull up my weather app.

"Eight inches out there now, and it doesn't look like the plows have even come through our neighborhood yet." I scroll through the app. "They're predicting a foot and a half."

"What the hell?" Bella says. "Where did this even come from?"

I can hear the anxiety in her voice.

"You're not driving."

She doesn't fight me and is already pulling her wool hat from her head. I'm glad to see that her sense of self-preservation is intact.

"I hate driving in the snow," she says. "I had an accident about two years ago when a deer jumped out in front of me. I ended up in a snowbank. It was terrifying. I couldn't get my door open."

Fear grips me as I picture Bella alone on a deserted snowy road, stuck without help.

"How'd you get out?"

She looks to the side, and her face hardens.

"Thankfully, Alice's husband Jasper came to help."

I'm not sure what she's remembering, but she looks angry, or hurt, or maybe a combination of the two. All I know is that I'm not letting her leave.

"You're staying."

She looks up at me, her brown eyes hesitant, but I see a flicker of relief as well.

"I don't want to put Rose out," she whispers.

"I know you said she doesn't like being thrown off her routine," she says. "Maybe I can call an uber or something. Someone with a pickup."

I give her a look like she's crazy.

"What?" she laughs. "It could happen."

"Not tonight, it won't," I say, and my voice is firm.

She turns toward the living room, and we hear George laughing as he watches his favorite show.

"I'll have to call my neighbor to see if she can take Oscar," she says. "I texted her earlier to let him out and feed him, but he gets nervous if he's home alone all night."

Helping her out of her coat, I lead her into the living room, where Rose is lying on the couch with George draped over her. She looks up when we enter.

"Bella's staying over," I say. "It's not safe for her to drive in this."

Rose doesn't say anything, but she shifts George and sits up, smoothing her hair.

George pulls his eyes from the TV.

"You can sleep in my bed, Bella. I don't mind."

"Thanks, G," I say. "I think the racecar bed might be too small for Bella."

"Thank you, George," Bella says. "But I can't take your bed."

I look at her.

"You're taking my room. I'll sleep on the couch."

"What?" Her eyes get wide. "No, Edward, I -"

"End of discussion."

Rose walks toward the front hall, and when she returns, she's carrying a blanket and pillow, which she places on the end of the couch.

"Come on, George. Time for bed," she says.

George rubs his eyes.

"Can we do a story?"

Rose smiles at him.

"We can do one. Come on."

She picks him up from the couch and carries him toward the stairs.

"Night Bella," he says over Rose's shoulder. "I'm glad I got to show you the hibbibbicouses."

Bella smiles at him.

"I'm glad too, George," she says. "They're beautiful."

I run my hands through my hair.

"Um, make yourself at home. I'm going to check on Henry quickly, and I'll be back, okay?"

"Edward, go," she says. "Go spend time with your nephew. I'm fine."

I nod and walk toward the stairs, and before I take the first step, I look back at her. She's smiling at me with a soft expression, and I know I'm going to have to make some decisions. And they're going to have to be soon.

~!~

"Too tight! Too tight!"

I hear George yelling and turn my head on the pillow. Rolling over, I see Rose dressing him in his winter gear. He looks like Randy from A Christmas Story.

"Sorry," she says, unraveling the scarf by one rotation before kissing him on the nose.

"Lemme go, mom. I wanna help Henry shovel."

Rose stands and opens the front door. The sky is a crisp blue, and the sun reflects off the mounds of white that line the street. George darts out, yelling for his brother. I look at my phone —Eight. Rubbing my hands down my face, I sit up, letting the blanket fall away.

"How'd you sleep, champ?" Rose asks.

I turn my head and wince when pain shoots through my neck.

"Fine. Like sleeping on a cloud."

"Mmmm hmmmm," she says before striding into the kitchen.

Standing, I try to work out some of the kinks in my back.

"I'll wake Bella and make sure she can get out, and then we can go to the dealership, okay?"

Rose looks at me and smirks.

"What?" I ask.

Sipping her coffee, she walks toward the front windows, pointing with her cup. Shuffling over, I look through the glass. Bella is shoveling alongside Henry and George, her cheeks flushed as she laughs at something they're telling her.

"I'll get dressed and help," I say before turning toward the stairs.

"Have you told her?" Rose's voice isn't accusatory, but it's close.

Ire rises in me, and I want to tell her to mind her own business.

"I don't want to be in the middle of this, Edward."

I look out the window again and watch as George uses his tiny plastic shovel to move snow away from Bella's tires. She grins as he carries a large load and dumps it onto the front lawn.

"You won't be in the middle."

She doesn't look convinced.

"She's all you've talked about since you've been out here. Do you think I haven't noticed? There are other people to consider, or have you forgotten?"

Now, I'm pissed. She has no right to butt into my personal life. Especially since I've put everything on hold so I can be here, not just for the boys but for her too.

"I haven't forgotten anything, Rose."

I turn and climb the stairs, feeling her eyes on my back as I go.

~!~

Something cold hits me in the face when I walk out the front door, and I hear giggles. Brushing off the snow that's now settled on my shoulder, I lean down.

"Now you've done it," I say, and there's a playful edge to my voice. "Now, you're asking for it."

Shrieks fill the front yard as I straighten with a tightly packed snowball and race toward them. Bella grins from ear to ear and lunges in front of Henry protectively as George follows and holds his shovel up like a shield. Henry takes off, and I throw the missile, only to realize my aim isn't what it used to be. The snowball crashes into the street behind him and splinters into a thousand pieces.

"Too slow, Uncle Ed!" Henry yells, and I chuckle as I pick up a shovel next to the garage and trek down to Bella's car. When I get there, I realize George has done an impressive job. The street appears clear too, and the mild temperature will only improve the conditions as the day goes on. Bella is wiping snow from the back window when I approach. She should be able to drive home without any issues. So why do I feel a sense of disappointment?

"Sleep, okay?" I ask.

"Um, yeah," she says. "Your bed is …" she looks up at me, and I watch her swallow. "Um … really comfortable. You didn't have to do that."

"I couldn't have you sleeping in a racecar bed, could I?"

"Oh, I don't know." She smirks. "It would definitely have been a first."

Shaking my head, I brush snow off her taillights.

"So, you've got a busy day of car shopping," she says before looking at Henry across the street. "And then a gaming chair, of course."

I watch Henry as he talks to Mrs. Cope and starts shoveling her sidewalk. He's such a great kid. Everything good about my brother is wrapped up in both of his sons. It's a travesty that he's not here to see it.

"You've got a wonderful family, Edward," Bella says, and I turn when I hear the softness in her voice. "You're doing so much good for them. I hope you know that. What you're doing matters."

I sigh.

"I hope so. I hope I'm helping them."

"You are," she says. "You absolutely are."

We look at each other for a moment, and I want to tell her everything. But Rose is right; there are other people to consider.

"So," she says. "Not too long until we pitch."

"We're going to win this. I can feel it," I say.

She grabs my arm.

"Oh my God, don't jinx it!"

Laughing, I look down at her and can feel the warmth of her hand on my arm, even through her glove and my coat. Her cheeks are flushed, and her pink hat with the pom-pom is slightly askew. I reach out to straighten it, and hear her take a quick breath when I lean in. I want to kiss her. I want to pull that hat from her head, run my fingers through her soft, wavy hair, and kiss her until we're both out of breath. I want to take her in my arms and kiss her so hard that I forget my name.

But I don't do any of that. I step away instead.

Rose calls the boys, and they come running up the driveway, dropping their shovels by the front door and stomping the snow off their boots before going into the house.

"So, um, I guess I better get going," she says. "I'm just going to thank Rose and say goodbye to the boys."

I look down into her beautiful brown eyes, and then she whisks past me, making her way up the front walk. Standing in the driveway alone, I look across the street. Mrs. Cope raises a hand in greeting, and I wave back.

"Morning, Edward," she calls. "What a beautiful day!"

I nod and turn toward the house, knowing I need to take a long hard look at my life and the choices I'm making.

A/N

We haven't gotten one flake of snow here this winter. (Very unusual for where I live) I am completely bummed.

My dad always had greenhouses while I was growing up. He loved geraniums.

Thanks for reading!