"Make up sex is awesome," Bella said, still panting from the workout Edward had given her within step of her front door. His husky, post-orgasm laughter was rich—a sound she loved. Calloused fingers danced up her spine, eliciting another curl of desire to move through her. She hoped it would always be like that between them.
"There's plenty more to come but you have to give me twenty minutes before I can deliver again." His hand that made its way to her ass, lifted, and gave her a light smack. It was just enough to test how she'd react.
Bella giggled and hummed, nuzzling her nose and mouth against his neck. Her reaction had the desired effect and made him groan aloud. If it hadn't been for the hard floor beneath them, she'd remain snuggled up in his arms.
The crunch of gravel outside caught their attention. Edward groaned, "My mother has perfect timing."
Bella couldn't help another peal of laughter as she rose onto her unsteady feet. "How do you know it's her?"
"I know what her car sounds like. Besides, she said they'd stop to see us and bring food." That was a good thing, since she didn't have much left, since they'd taken it to the cabin the week before.
"She's got impeccable timing as always, come on," she said, offering her hand. For a second, Edward looked at her outstretched fingers as if they contained the plague. It was gone quickly, replaced with his usual mask of indifference. She knew he hated to show an ounce of weakness, but he had a bad leg that cramped up on him. It hadn't been her first thought when she offered. She simply wanted to help him up, as he would've done the same if their positions were in reverse.
His eyes slid up her arm to her face, as if he were searching for any signs of what she was thinking. With one last lingering gaze, he slipped his hand in hers and used the other on the door to rise to his feet. He managed to keep from groaning aloud, but she caught the way his jaw tightened.
"Hello, darlings, we're here," Esme called from the porch, knocking and giggling shortly after. "Carlisle, I think we may have come at a bad time." The doorbell rang a couple of times.
"It serves them right since we'd be in bed right now if you hadn't insisted on coming to see them."
Bella tried not to laugh, considering Edward was choking on whatever he planned to say. He obviously was painfully aware of the implications of what his father had said. "I'll go clean up," he whispered to Bella, scooping up his clothes and pressing a hard kiss to her lips.
"Chicken," she hissed at him, as she quickly started to slip on her clothes.
"I'll be right out, besides I'm sure you can handle my parents." He seemed oddly proud of that fact and winked. Damn him and his ability to render me speechless, Bella thought. She shooed him away and did her best to finger comb her hair, much in the same way she'd done the week before. Had it only been that long since Edward tasted her in her kitchen? It felt much longer and likely because so much had happened since that morning.
She took a fortifying breath and opened the door. "Hi," she said, unable to do anything about how flushed her skin appeared. She was usually pale but it was still warm, so she hoped Edward's parents would believe she was slightly sunburned.
On the spot, she tried to come up with an excuse to buy time for Edward. "Your son is getting dressed, he'll be right out." Her eyes widened and she slapped her hand, much too late, over her mouth. "I mean…he uh," she tried, but Esme only smiled and patted her shoulder. She gestured for them to come inside, choosing instead to keep her mouth shut.
"We get the idea, dear," Esme said, smiling.
Carlisle followed his wife, his blue eyes bright. "Of course I understand. Clearly, my son spilled something on his shirt and had to change into another." Carlisle had said it so seriously, that Bella believed she managed to fool him, until he winked.
Like father like son; damn that Cullen charm.
"Make yourselves at home, I'm going to uh, freshen up." Bella led them into the kitchen once she saw they had a few grocery bags each. "What are you doing here? I don't mind, of course. Edward said something about food."
"We knew you wouldn't have any groceries, so I'll start on some lunch. Don't take too long," Esme said, cocking an eyebrow meant to tease her. "It's been a while since I cooked a meal for my son. Plus, I have everything for my special lemonade."
"Well, that sounds good to me." Bella hoped that Edward could handle a tipsy version of her. If he thought she had a bad filter sober, he had no idea of what was in store for him. She sang as she made her way to her bedroom, and before she could reach it, Edward cornered her in the hallway outside her bedroom.
"Hmm, we've been here before," she said, looking up into his dark green eyes.
"Don't even think about it."
She squirmed a little under his intense gaze. "Too late, but I respect your parents too much to even consider going down on you again while they're downstairs."
"You didn't have a problem with it last time," he said, though from the look in his eyes and the lift one corner of his lips, he was joking. "That's not why I stopped you." She shifted uncomfortably, her thighs rubbing together. "What's the matter?"
"I need to change," she said. "My underwear is riding up and let's just say—" His hand covered her mouth, his head shaking.
"Don't even say it. Jesus. I just had you and I'm ready for another round." Her eyes widened and her body melted. "Not going to happen. At least, not yet." He looked unsure about his words, but shook his head again. "We need to talk, so we'll visit with my parents, but I have some things I need to say."
Slowly, his hand moved from her mouth to cup her cheek, then to curl around the back of her head. "We do need to talk," she repeated, but had no idea what he expected from her. They seemed to want more from each other, but there was things she needed to remind him of before they could move forward. Like the fact that she may never be able to have a child.
Slow down, you barely got him to admit he wanted more.
His gaze roamed over her face, settling on her eyes. He dipped down to kiss her lips with such gentleness that she feared for a tiny moment it would be their last. The feeling was gone just as quickly. He continued meeting her mouth almost leisurely, murmuring something she couldn't quite catch. She realized he wasn't going anywhere; somehow, she knew that as a fact. Breathless, she pushed him back, watching him wipe his bottom lip with his thumb.
"We have plenty of time." After that, he told her he'd be downstairs, and for her to hurry.
She practically floated into her bedroom and cleaned up in record time. A white summer dress and a high ponytail completed the look as she skipped downstairs to find Edward pacing in her living room. She'd seen the look before, one of a cornered animal, one that was ready to flee. It was not a good thing.
"You're not leaving," she said, her heart racing.
Edward's gaze swung toward her, running down her body once before meeting her eyes. "I'm not." His hands lifted to tug at his hair. "It's just something came up and I don't know how to handle it."
She approached him with caution, and the moment she stepped into his space, his arms were around her. His nose nuzzled her hair and his breath exhaled sharply. "How about we try to handle it together?"
His arms only tightened around her, and for a few minutes, he held her. "My parents received a letter from one of the families."
"One of the families?" she asked, but he pulled away and winced, retreating and pacing again.
Edward's father walked into the room, having overhead from the kitchen. "There's going to be a memorial for the fifth anniversary of the soldiers they lost the day of the attack, Edward's friends." Carlisle's palm cupped her elbow and gently prodded her to allow him to take over. "Let me talk to him for a bit."
She nodded and headed into the kitchen, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts.
"You look about as scared as I am," Esme said, chopping vegetables on the counter. "We thought long and hard if we should tell him about it, but we figured it wasn't a good idea to keep him from it, either. We plan on attending and he'd want to know where we were heading. We knew we had to tell him the truth."
"It explains the look in his eyes," she said, circling the kitchen island in search of another cutting board and knife. She settled beside Esme and started on some tomatoes. "He looks like he's ready to run, but something is stopping him."
"You are," Esme said, though her voice was gentle, Bella heard the sadness behind it.
She had no idea what to say to that. "Esme, I'm not…"
"It's all right, I understand. For quite a while, I knew my husband and I were the only reasons he chose to fight for his life." She switched from the carrots to fresh chicken breasts. "He may have fought to live while he was held prisoner, but he's been far from living since he returned."
"It's not your fault."
"I know. It's been wonderful to see him give a shit again." Again, Bella was speechless. Other than when Esme had a little too much to drink, she never cursed.
For several minutes, they worked together as Edward and his father continued to talk in the living room. The soft murmurs drifting into the kitchen kept Bella from seeking Edward out, but not from worrying. She knew he had to be hurting or confused, maybe a little of both. Though he told her of the attack and his capture, she knew he edited out the worst of it for her. Little did he know that she had traveled the world and taken photos of civilians in war-torn countries and of people on both sides of some the most horrific incidents, many war and gang related.
"Does he know you're in love with him?"
Surprised by Esme's question, she sliced through her finger. "Fuck!" Bella hissed, working to stop from screaming. She didn't want to disturb Edward and his father, and clamped her other hand over her mouth.
It was too late. She heard his pounding footsteps as Edward ran into the kitchen and took one look at the situation. In seconds, he had his arms wrapped around her from behind, carefully cradling her hand in his under a gentle flow of water at the sink.
"You okay?" he asked, inspecting her finger and wincing. "That's pretty deep. Dad, does she need stitches?" Carlisle snapped into doctor mode. While Edward continued to hold her, Carlisle indicated she did need a few stitches. "Let's get you to the hospital."
Bella froze for a multitude of reasons, mostly because she couldn't speak freely in front of his parents. "Can you give us a minute?" she asked, looking at his parents. The second they stepped out of the kitchen, Edward demanded why she didn't want to go.
"I haven't been to a doctor since I went on the run," she said, not bothering to disclose she hadn't been much before, either. "My contacts claim my papers would pass the harshest of scrutiny, but I've never tested it before. What if we go and someone in the organization finds out I'm still alive? I don't think I want to risk it."
"You haven't been to a doctor in years?" Edward asked, and she shook her head in response. "How do you get birth control?"
"Free clinic, they aren't as thorough as conventional doctor's offices sometimes, Though, I've had to leave when I had my doubts."
"Bella," he said, but stopped with his lips thinning. "My father can stitch it here, but we'll talk about this later."
"Put it on the list," she said, trying to get him to smile. He gave her a half-assed one. "I'm sorry I'm so much trouble."
"Still worth it," he said, taking her hand and calling out for his parents. "She doesn't want to go the hospital and it's still bleeding. Can you stitch her up here?" Carlisle nodded and said he'd grab his bag from the car, Esme joining him.
"Are you always this clumsy in the kitchen?" Edward asked, checking her finger again.
"Um, your mother surprised the fuck out of me."
Confusion furrowed his brow. "How?"
She wasn't ready to tell him. Not when she had no idea how he'd take it. "TMI kind of stuff. Trust me, you don't want to know."
Edward's eyes widened, likely thinking it had to do with his parents' bedroom activities, and lifted to the door his mother had exited. "No, I don't."
"Are you okay?" she asked him. The caged lion she'd seen earlier scared her in many ways, and one of the reasons she had to keep from telling him she loved him. With everything going on, what if it sent him running? She couldn't risk that, and had to hope she could keep her mouth shut for a while longer. She hoped that Esme would not divulge the information—she'd have to keep on an eye on her.