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9
I try to go wild in Target and buy everything Christmas-related, but Edward keeps me in check.
I toss in a festive throw pillow that says "ho, ho, ho."
He promptly puts it back on the shelf and says, "No, no, no."
I grab a Santa nutcracker, and Edward eyes me.
"Put it back where it belongs, Swan."
Using the lever to make its mouth move with my words, I say, "I belong with you, Edward."
He laughs and shakes his head, grabbing it from me. Before he pulls it out of my hand completely, he steals a taste of my lips. It's too quick, but Target-appropriate, and when he breaks the kiss, I find myself leaning in for more.
"I don't need any of this extra stuff, and I don't want you to spend too much money," he says against my lips. "I agreed to let you buy stuff for the tree. Nothing else."
I sigh when he selfishly pulls away without giving me another peck.
"Even if you're being a Grinch, I guess this stuff is bad quality anyway," I say decidedly and truthfully. A couple who was near us looking at the same nutcracker tosses me a disapproving look before leaving the aisle with their kids.
"I think you offended them," Edward laughs quietly.
"Why does my opinion matter? I'm a stranger to them. And it's true—this stuff is cheap and won't last for years. My mom has this collection of nutcrackers from Germany, though, and those are the real deal."
Edward walks ahead of me. "You really do love Christmas, huh?"
I slowly push the cart and follow behind him over toward the ornaments. I wait too long to answer before I say, "I did."
He turns to look back at me. "Did?"
"I mean, I don't know. I still do. Doing all this festive stuff with you is the most fun I've had during Christmas in a long time," I admit. "It's just different now." I let my unsaid words hang in the air—it's just different without my dad.
Edward gives me a sad, knowing smile and walks back over and around the cart, so he's standing in front of me.
"Hey," he says quietly, standing inches away.
"Yeah?"
"I'm at your service this holiday season, okay?" he offers, and I laugh a little. "No, I'm serious. Whatever Christmassy things you wanna do, you have me. You wanna go ice skating? I'll probably bust my ass but I'll gladly do it for you. Caroling? I'll fa-la-la-la-la the fuck outta—"
"Me?"
He barks a laugh. "I was gonna say fa-la-la-la-la the fuck outta some tunes, but..."
I smile at him. "See? What did I tell you last night? You're gonna make some woman happy someday."
He cups my face, forcing me to look at him. His eyes flash with a fierceness I've never seen. "Not some woman," he insists, shaking his head. "You, Bella. I want to make you happy."
My heart clenches with affection, and my stomach flips with flirtatious nerves.
"Do you also want me to swoon to death? Because I'm, like, this close to melting into a puddle right here," I sigh. "Cleanup on aisle five."
He smiles, his handsome face tender and genuine as he drops his hands. "Well? I'm just being honest. You're my friend, and I really fucking like and care about you. Your happiness is important to me."
An overwhelming attraction for him takes over, and I reach for him, pulling the back of his neck down so our mouths can meet. I kiss him harder and longer than we did minutes ago. I kiss him so he knows his happiness is important to me, too, and that I appreciate and care about him so much.
When we pull apart, his eyes are still closed, opening a beat later than mine.
It makes me smile.
"Excuse me?" someone asks, trying to get past us. They sound irritated like making out in Target is frowned upon.
But okay, fine, we probably are annoying the other customers.
Edward and I mutter our apologies and move, shifting our attention from each other to the decorations again. I keep it surprisingly simple by grabbing a box of fifty-count ball ornaments in various colors.
But then I spot a glass baseball, and I can't resist.
"Would you say you're over your teenage angst phase? If so, this can be your 2023 ornament," I tell him, holding it up. When I look over at him, he's holding one too—an old red truck with a Christmas tree in the back.
"Is that for me?" I ask quietly, taking it from him.
"Yeah. Does it kind of look like your dad's truck?"
"Yeah." It's all I can say because I feel a little emotional that Edward would remember such a small detail from my stupid driver's license story.
"You can talk to me about him, you know," Edward says softly. "I can listen. Or ask questions. I've been curious for a while, but I don't want to push."
I meet his eyes. They're just as sincere as his words, and it makes my heart and every fiber of my being soften for him.
"I will," I whisper. I want to tell him everything. Or maybe I just want him to read my pseudo-fiction, so I won't have to use words that will turn to tears. "I want to. But not now. Not in Target surrounded by cheap ornaments and fake nutcrackers. Charlie deserves better than that."
Edward presses his lips together in a small, supportive smile. "Okay."
With everything we need in the cart, we head toward the self-check-out and find a long-ass line.
After five minutes of waiting, Edward's phone chimes, and he pulls it out of his pocket. He smiles and replies to a text, and I want to ask who he's messaging but I don't want to be "that" girl.
A beat later, he slips his phone back into his pocket and says, "My brother-in-law invited me to the hockey game tonight."
"Oh." I'm slightly bummed. Not that I really thought we'd spend the entire day and night together but… I certainly wouldn't complain if we did. "What time is it at?"
"Seven, but I'm not going."
I brighten. "You aren't?"
"Nah. I asked if he had two tickets in case you wanted to go, but he doesn't, and the game is sold out. Looks like he'll have to drag my sister with him and make her suffer."
"You can go," I offer as if he needs my permission.
"Yeah, but I want to keep hanging out with you." He holds my gaze. "Is that presumptuous of me?"
"No. I want to keep hanging out, too," I softly admit. "Would you be willing to go get drinks with my sister and her husband later tonight? I already had plans with them, but I want you to come."
"I'd definitely be down for that," he says, easily accepting my invitation.
I smile. "Cool."
His grin is just as sweet. "Cool."
"Speaking of my sister, she probably texted me, but my phone has been off since we left Jane's. When do you think a good time is to turn that sucker back on?"
"What are you scared of?" he asks as the line shuffles forward a little.
"Jane's wrath, duh."
"Fuck her, Bella. Even if she blows up your phone, you're not obligated to answer outside of work hours. Especially if she's pissed over something that has nothing to do with your actual job."
"Yeah…" I pull my phone out of my back pocket and hand it to him. "You do the honor. Or the dishonor. Please?"
He bravely takes my phone from me, and I close my eyes.
I feel him poke my side. "What are you doing?"
I crack one eye open. "I'm expecting a hologram of Jane to appear and scold me."
"Like from Star Wars?" he laughs.
"Yeah." I open both eyes. "Or maybe I'm expecting it to ring right away, or at the very least, to chime with a series of angry texts."
He turns it on, and I brace myself, but it only chimes with one message.
"Your sister, Alice, wants to know what time you want to meet up later," Edward reads aloud.
"That's it? No Jane?"
"No Jane," he confirms.
I grab it from him, unconvinced, and look at my texts.
The last message I have from Jane is the one I read before I turned off my phone earlier when she asked who Cujo was after I lied and said the dog ate the pies.
"She didn't text me," I say to Edward, stunned. "No voicemails either."
He looks surprised but glad. "See? You were worried for nothing."
"I'm not convinced this is a good thing," I mumble. "I'm used to Jane's wrath—I know how to navigate that. What I'm unfamiliar with is her silence because I have a strong feeling it isn't golden."
"Forget about it," Edward encourages. "Let's enjoy the rest of the afternoon and go get drinks with your sister later. Alcohol will help you take your mind off of everything."
"Or it might make me obsess more."
"Well… then I have other ways to help you relax," he murmurs, a glint in his eyes.
"Vintage porn on your VHS player?" I joke, and the family ahead of us in line—the same one I offended with the Nutcracker—turns around and gives us another dirty look.
Edward's hand slides around my waist, pulling me closer after they look away.
"You're definitely on the naughty list, Swan," he whispers in my ear.
I smile at him. "I wouldn't have it any other way."