Chapter Fourteen

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Disclaimer: None of this is mine, nor will it ever be (sigh). I like to play with the characters that Stephenie Meyers created and make them do pervy things or become angels with a bad attitude.

Up next will be the continuation of their Christmas celebration. Will Bella ever be able to say those three words to him?

Chapter Fourteen

BPOV

"Wait, you can play the piano?" I asked, snickering as we sat curled up in on the couch in the living room. We had snuggled all day, never moving further apart than a few feet. We were always touching. I should have been afraid, terrified of being so close to a man, but Edward made me feel so at ease, and so safe. "Do you have any other hidden talents?"

"I can play a mean guitar and I'm awesome at jazz flute," he chuckled, his fingers gliding along my arm.

"Jazz flute?" I giggled.

"Okay, no jazz flute," he said, shooting me a deadly gorgeous crooked grin. "But, I can play the guitar."

"I want to hear you play," I said, smiling widely. "Either one. Hell, even some bad jazz flute."

"I don't have a piano here, but I do have a guitar," he said, getting up. He caressed my cheek, darted away. He came back with a gorgeous black guitar with angel's wings on either side of the sound hole. He sat down, tuning the instrument. "It's been awhile since I've played and sung."

"You sing, too?" I breathed. "Is there anything you don't do?"

"Knit," he smirked, his fingers working along the fretboard. "I tried. My fingers are just too big. I also struggle with sewing, too. Again, fat fingers." I stopped him, grabbing his strong, but slender hand. I arched a brow, twining our fingers together. He blushed, taking my hand, kissing my palm. I shuddered, staring into his eyes. He kissed my wrist before taking a deep breath. "Don't laugh at how awful I am, pretty Bella."

"Never," I said. He gave me another beautifully crooked grin before his fingers moved gracefully along the neck of the guitar. After a brief introduction, he began playing one of my favorite holiday songs: I'll Be Home for Christmas. I never had a home and hearing that song, every year, made me yearn for a home during the holidays. But, this was the first time I had a Christmas, a home. Edward's voice was a beautiful tenor, with rich depth and a sexy growl. I didn't realize I was crying until Edward finished his song, wiping my tears away. "That was beautiful ... my favorite Christmas song."

"I know," he said. He tapped his head, his eyes softening. "You have a home now, Bella. You have to know that."

"I'm trying," I whispered. He moved the guitar and held me in his arms. "But, this has been the best Christmas I've ever had."

"Well, we're not done yet," Edward said. "We have Christmas dinner and then presents!"

"Presents?" I squeaked. "I didn't ..." He gave me a tender grin, brushing his lips against mine and I melted. Like, my brain melted and I couldn't remember what he had said. "No fair."

"What's not fair?" he asked, helping me to my feet and guiding to the kitchen. He moved confidently, pulling out containers from the refrigerator. "I can handle the dinner, but can you make the salad?"

"Yeah," I nodded. He put a small beef tenderloin into the oven and then worked on making some risotto and sautéed vegetables. I chopped the lettuce, onions, cucumbers, carrots and tomatoes. I also made some bacon to crumble on top with blue cheese and some croutons. Edward pilfered some bacon, laughing adorably as I gently smacked his hands away. Mixing the salad with olive oil and some fancy vinegar, I put it on the table and lit some candles. Edward finished making our meal, putting it onto the table and pouring some red wine. "I still think it's humorous that an angel drinks."

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