Chapter 9 – The Tease

The following week

All over the damn place

Edward Cullen POV

“Ow.  Fuck.”
I’d pinched myself.  And yeah, I was definitely awake and it was definitely pre-dawn again.   And okay, I might have been waiting for a repeat performance from the Ghost of Hand Jobs Past.
Unfortunately, that seemed unlikely.  Therefore, I decided… perhaps it was my turn to spread the imaginary love. 
I use the term “imaginary” loosely.  Just so you know.
I crept ever so quietly out of my room and down the hall to the master bedroom, praying the entire time that she was a heavy sleeper. Otherwise, I could be spending the rest of the night in the ER getting my fucking balls re-attached. 
I grasped the doorknob and carefully gave it a little turn. Unlocked. Surprising, considering her significant trust issues.  And thank god these doors don’t squeak, by the way.  I pushed the door open slowly and sure enough, there she was, sprawled on the massive king-sized bed.
Fuck me. No really, fuck me. Now. 
She was barely covered by a sheet, and I could see the lovely Miss Swan liked to sleep in very little. The blinds were not shut in this room, letting the moonlight filter in and dance across her nearly naked body.
Very. Nearly. Naked. Body.  I might add.
Did I just say lovely?
Anyway… a tank top that looked a size or two too small covered those pert tits of hers while the tiniest pair of panties covered...well, you know what they covered.
I’m not gonna lie, here.  I was nervous as hell and with every step I took toward that bed, I’d changed my mind about ten times as to whether or not this was a good idea.  I mean we all know that it’s one thing for a woman to grope and feel and stroke and rub and make a guy cum like no other, but for a dude to return the favor?
It might be construed by some as… unsolicited advances… otherwise known as rape.
Ugly word, right?
It wasn’t like I was gonna have sex with her, though… right?  Although I’m pretty sure unwanted groping and feeling up was also considered some sort of crime.
Shit.  I should turn back.
The back of my neck felt clammy and my dick twitched so much you might have thought I was having spasms or… dancing like Elaine Benes from an old Seinfeld episode in the middle of that room.
Bella’s form taunted me of course, as usual.  But in a very unknowingly seductive - yet innocent way that in some weird, bizarro world kind of instance, made me want to protect her from the very likes of my own psyche.
Jesus.
I was close to her.
So close I could have reached out and touched someone…or something… and as she breathed in and out and her chest rose and fell with the calmness that only comes with sleep, I couldn’t help but appreciate the way her hair splayed out around her, dangling over a bare shoulder, covering part of her eyes… tickling her tits a little...  I almost laughed thinking about what a mess it was gonna be when she woke up and how insanely pissed off she’d probably be to have to unravel it all.
I must have extended my hand out five times and pulled it back just as many, scared shitless it would wake her up too quickly and then I wouldn’t have the opportunity to… I don’t know, pin her down somehow before descending upon her like the Devil himself might have in some late fifties thriller about sex, lies and videotapes.
I glanced around, paranoid with that last thought I’d had about videotapes.  I wouldn’t have put it past her to have installed some tiny microbe type cameras in that room to make sure she knew who was there when … and what the hell they were getting into.
Did she really want this?  I mean she did tell me not to follow her.
Asked actually.
Practically begged.
I sucked in some air, silently.  I watched her lips fall apart slightly and remembered the way she’d whispered in my ear back in my dinky ass bedroom… as compared to the master suite.
Master.
Ya know, she did start it.  I think…
Right?
Okay… let’s do this.
Are we really doing this?
Finally, I resolved myself and had settled upon starting out with a little nipple tease… I mean, after all, it was just begging for me to bite it since Baltimore.  Right?
I leaned over, still questioning whether or not I was actually gonna go through with the whole thing.  I was hovering above her like the evil predator I was, trying to convince myself I was using the bed for leverage, hoping it didn’t wake her, and just as I was about to grab myself a hand full of Bella Swan boobage….
Her cell phone rang.
The other cell phone, I noticed.  The one that had the ring tone of “Oh, Death” and didn’t belong to Marcus Volturi or had anything to do with the enormous con organization that he’d turned into a money making machine that practically ran on its own steam.
I was completely frozen.  One hand on the bed, the other randomly waving at the phone that rang louder than the Morman fucking Tabernacle and was sitting on the table next to Bella’s nearly naked body as I mouthed every curse word I could think of at the thing.
Not to mention it was creeping me out.
I hate that song.
I peeked down at her cleavage and wet my lips at the sudden realization that taking one of those nipples into my mouth wasn’t gonna happen after all, My fingers flexed at the lost possibility of running a few of them along her curves in an attempt to pull some sort of reaction out of her other than the continuous whiplash causing mood swings she had since I’d met her.
I waited… stiff as a board… light as a feather…. and just when I thought she was gonna sleep through the song that played... a hand blindly reached over, feeling around for the phone… found it… then she flipped it open without looking. 
Putting the phone to her ear with one hand, the other made a home across her face.
She snorted awake and I caught the laughter in my throat before it was able to escape.
“Hey.”  She cleared her throat and I should have been long goddamn gone by then, but I just couldn’t… fucking… move.
Hovering… hovering… I should not be here…
And not to mention, my thoughts were racing. 
Should I grab the boob?
Bad idea.
“Is everything okay?” she asked in a low voice.
Oh…. Twitchalicious… I loved that voice she did… right there… that one where she’s not quite whispering but she’s not quite talking yet?
Hominah.  Is all I’m sayin’.
And who was she talking to this time? Or was it the same person?

Just as I was settling in and accepting the fact that I was there for a while… until she got off of the phone at least… or rolled over maybe… and was somehow becoming okay with that situation, Bella’s voice became urgent. 

“What?”  She sat upright in about two point two seconds flat and my ass was thrown backwards from the force of her forehead hitting mine.

“Shhh..hit!” I yelled out, putting a hand to my head to rub the pain out.

“What the hell is it that you think you’re doing?” she screamed at me; and then back to her phone, “No, not you d…. listen, I have to call you back, but stay… where you are.”

“Mother… fuck you have a hard head,” I told her as she scooted out of the bed, only half bothering to wrap herself up this time… maybe only half wanting me to see her… half protecting her deep seeded innocence from the big bad glaring eyes of the…

No, I’m just kiddin’ there, she’s no innocent lamb, that I know.

Wolf in sheep’s clothing is more like it.

Anyway, the point is, I suddenly had one of those gang fight type pocket knives pointed at me… and how she’d whipped that thing out and gotten it into blade mode so fast, I had… no idea. 

“What are you…”

“Did I or did I not tell you I’d slice your balls off if you…”
“Woah woah woah now… you’re the one who…”
“You cannot just… come in here and…”
We’re back and forthing and I’m half cupping my balls in a protective kinda way while she’s waving this knife around, suddenly feeling the need to jump out of her window after all… thinking of ways to get myself outta there in one piece… and still with one dick, preferably.
“What?” I asked her, half kidding, half trying to salvage my ego. “Oh you thought I was…” Coming in here to feel you up?   Okay, ya got me.
I laughed though.  “You’re kidding right?  Tell me you’re kidding.”
“Well…” she actually looked flustered at my obvious amusement at how seriously she was taking the situation.  “Then what are you doing in here?”
“Well certainly not to…” I threw a hand at her.  “Do anything with you… that’s for goddamn sure.”  Unless of course you want me to.
She narrowed her eyes.  “Your. Hand. Was. On. My. Breast.”
“Almost… it was almost on your breast,” I corrected her.
And did that mean she wanted me to?
I can’t imagine she wanted me to, considering the knife and all… but hell, you never know sometimes with…
“I’m waiting, Edward.”
Right.  The knife was still pointing at me and I was trying desperately to think of something… which, by the way, is REALLY difficult when there’s a knife pointed at you.
I shut my eyes tight, thinking.  Thinking…
Got it!  “I spy Whitlock,” I said almost too quickly.
“What?”
“Yeah… Marcus…” I skipped a beat. “He wanted us to do make nice with him and I thought you might be the best one for the job since…” I swallowed.  “You know…” I coughed.  “He likes you better and all.”
“Whitlock.”
“Yep.”
She eyed me. 
“Think you can lower the knife now?”  I asked with a cocked eyebrow.
“You are so lucky I don’t have time for this shit right now, Edward.”
“Well…” I clapped my hands together. My work was done there.
Oh so done.
“I’m gonna…” I was making excuses… any I could grasp onto… but she was already waving me out of the room, sliding the pocket knife she’d wielded at me into her boy shorts while dialing up another number, carefully ensuring she was using the Marcus phone this time. 
“Right… well… see you…. When you’re…” I waved at her again and the door closed in my face and I was just grateful to be alive.  “Done here,” I said to the door.
I was alive, right?
Once I realized I indeed was – I listened for a minute to see if I could hear the conversation she was about to have.
And I did.
“What. The fuck Felix… this is not…  oh please… don’t pull that bullshit with me, Marcus said…. Well I don’t care if he pissed you off…. He’s not involved anymore… understand?  Or is that too complicated of a thought for you to comprehend in that peanut sized brain of yours?”
Shit.  She was sandblasting Felix?
Felix, the two hundred fifty some odd pound muscle that worked directly for Marcus.  The same Felix that had dragged me from my beach side villa to come back and work one last job for his boss.
The exact same Felix who I’d seen kill a man or two in my time.
Bella was scary, I decided.  Because I didn’t wanna think about what he might have done to her had she said any of that shit to his face and in-person-like.
Apparently, though, she didn’t give a fuck… and that made her dangerous.  Or stupid.
I knew she wasn’t stupid, so… Definitely dangerous.
I rubbed at my face and made my way back down to my room to get ready for the day and made a very conscious decision not to try any late night, early morning boob gropes with Bella Swan… ever again.
I didn’t see her after I was done taking a shower and cleaning up … with a locked bathroom door, by the way… so I tried putzing… then I texted her to see what the dealio was… she wrote back saying she was at some hoity toity country club with Whitlock, playing… tennis of all goddamn things.
Tennis?
Really?
What are ya gonna do though?  I shook it off and decided to take a walk, stealing glances at some of our neighbors, including the lawn boy known as “Seth” who seemed pretty perky and overly talkative for someone who was just out of college.
Shouldn’t he be off brooding somewhere? Or… dating or something?
Getting a real job?
Nosy little shit.
He did mention something that made me slightly curious about a similar conversation I’d had with McCarty, though… so I headed back to the enormous house I was calling home for now and did some investigating.
Motherfucker.  He was right. 
Cinch bugs.  I plucked one out of the grass, eyeing the little shit that threatened to ruin the lawn of my fake new home.  What?  A happily married suburban husband cared about his lawn.  And, really, what else was I supposed to be doing while my happily married fake suburban housewife played tennis with our neighbor, Jasper Whitlock, at the country club?
 A happily married husband certainly shouldn’t be planning on castrating said neighbor.  I had nothing to be jealous about, especially since I kept my wife so happy in the sack.  In the pretend sack, that is.
And where did she learn how to play tennis, anyway?  Is Marcus backing athletic endeavors now or something?
Forget it, not important.
Look, the fact of the matter was that I’d kissed Bella over a week ago and since then, nothing.  The only action I’d seen was the rise and fall of her pretty little chest in her room that morning.
Not like I wanted action.  I mean I wanted action, I’d just prefer I get that action without the consequences of a fucking psychopath who may or may not have serious control issues with the male species.
Very dangerous, very hot control issues… that made me want spank the monkey on an hourly basis.
It was the best I could do, considering Bella was apparently in full on bitch mode after she’d scored this face time with Whitlock.  I’m pretty sure I might have heard her singing, “Na, na, na-na, na,” from about ten miles away when I’d gotten her text message back earlier.
Like I said.
Bitch mode.
Jasper’s car screeched to a halt in front of our house, pulling me away from my thoughts. The first thing I saw as the passenger door opened was legs: the long, should-be-wrapped-around-my-body legs of my fake wife. Then the rest of her flushed and sweaty body appeared – topped off with a smug smile as she eyed me on my hands and knees on the lawn. 
With a casual wave to Jasper, she took a few steps in my direction, and stood there eyeing me pitifully, running her fingers over the handle of her racket… up, over the tip, down, up and over again, and down with a squeeze, shaking her head at me.
What was it about her that could make me go from irritated to turned on in micro-seconds, anyway?
“Oh… you think that’s funny, do ya Betty-Boop?” I laughed.
I glanced at the switch on the wall next to me.  With a quick flick of my wrist, water shot up from the grass.  I’m pretty sure Bella shrieked, but it was in one of those octaves that only dogs and cats could hear, and she ran for the driveway.  It was too late though; she was soaked to the skin. 
The skin.
I could suddenly see so much more of her skin.
Her little white tennis shirt was plastered to her body, and there were those perky nipples again, and was that… didn’t the woman ever put on underwear?
For the love of god.
“You are… so dead!” she screeched at me, taking her tennis racket and holding it in her hands like a weapon. She stalked across the lawn, ready to swing.  I backed up, suddenly fearing for my life, or maybe just the integrity of my skull.
She took a whack at me but I dodged her and grabbed a slippery ankle, sending her down to the ground.  With another swing, I caught her wrist, laughing my ass off the whole time.
“Motherfucker,” she grunted, throwing the full force of her weight onto me… pinning me to the ground.  And I kinda liked it, not gonna lie.
Until she grabbed the racket again, and held it over her head. “I’ve had about enough of your games, Cullen.”
“Holy…”
She was about to swing when we heard a playful whistle from the sidewalk, causing both of us to stop, realizing where we were and what the hell was happening… again.
We looked over to see Emmett McCarty standing there laughing. “You two and your sex games,” he chuckled, continuing his saunter over and into his home.  “Maybe you could host a class for the rest of us.”
His shoulder bobbing was just a tad annoying, if you ask me.
I took Bella in once he disappeared.  In her pissed off state of mind, I should have been frightened for my dick’s life. But when you add certain chemicals together, like the pissed off state she was in plus the completely soaked outfit she was wearing and her panti-less underlying pussy that seemed to be attempting to make nice with said dick?
“Bella,” I said through the sprinkler water that was still raining down on the two of us.
 “Yesss.”  It was quite the response.  She sounded a little distracted if ya ask me. So I smirked a happy little smirk and told her, “Unless you’d like to adopt my dick and give it a home for roughly sixty minutes, I highly suggest you cease and desist with the pelvis grinding.”
And raised eyebrow number seventeen.  Hello.
 "That’s right," I told her with the confidence that came with the con-man's game and a few well deserved waggles of my eyebrows, "I'm a sixty minute man."
I held on to her hips as I lifted my pelvis a couple of times for good measure and, as she looked down at me, I noted the newly discovered expression on her face.  Not quite the same as that night on the kitchen floor, yet similar.  I thought she looked flushed, but then she recovered nicely with, “You always this romantic, Edward?” Ignoring my pelvic talents.  “I mean really, I’m surprised you get laid at all.”
 Tease.

You’d have thought it was a good opportunity for some angry flirtation and I tried to hold her there to see if we could explore a few of those opportunities but with a push of her hands against my chest, she was off of me and heading into the house, wet and sexy… and definitely panti-less, I thought as I craned my neck to watch her go.

Goddamn.

I’m gonna have blue balls till this fucking job is over.

I let my head fall back down onto the wet grass and stared up at the sky through the water spraying over me for a few more minutes before Alice Brandon was standing on our fake front sidewalk, refusing to be ignored. 
“You could get fined for that, you know,” she said and I leaned up onto my elbows, questioning her silently.   Then she pointed at the sprinklers.  “It’s not your day for grass watering.”
I nodded. “Of course.”
I got up and flicked the switch, turning the water works off and gave Alice a friendly wave.  “Thanks.”
She smiled for me and I noticed Whitlock then.  Watching us.  And not only that, but McCarty was back outside, getting his newspaper off of the pavement.
And for some reason, the events of the past few days seemed to swarm my mind, causing the memories of the complete and utter ridiculousness that has been my life as Bella Swan's 'fake husband' to play like an old black and white movie reel behind my eyes.
- Panti-less neighborhood cook outs.
- Daily threats against ball sacks
- Food Labeling
- Getting caught peeing outside by Neighborhood President aka Resident Noseypants
- Food Fight as a result of said labeling food fought upon
- Hand jobs that may or may not be real, the jury was still out on that one
- Sexy kisses on top of Beamers that could have led to a REAL hand job
- Interesting night stand items
- Daydreaming about nipples, legs and other various body parts
- An angry, completely wet, fake wife who once again… was not wearing any underwear
Now, I just need to remind myself once again why I shouldn’t go barging into the house after her to take what is rightfully mine as her husband?
I could imagine it now.
Stalking into the house, heading straight for her room, making my way purposefully over to her, cupping her neck in one hand, laying one serious passion laced kiss on her while my other hand roamed her body, copping a feel while helping her out of her sprinkler effected tennis outfit. Being able to cup that gorgeous bottom of hers once and for all. And those tits…
Suddenly, I realized… I had a boner while standing outside in front of Jasper Whitlock… Emmett fucking McCarty.  And… Alice Brandon.
Awesome.

I did my polite yet mysterious, I think I’ll go get laid, grin for all three of them and then headed inside as Emmett threw me his infamous I hear ya wink. Alice turned the deepest shade of red I think I’d ever seen and Whitlock watched us from across the street.  

Whether he was actually watching me… or Alice Brandon, I didn’t know, but he was watching, none-the-less and I wondered if he’d been there through the entire Bella debacle or not.

Which is why I kept such a close eye on him the next few days.

This paid off a few early mornings later, as I watched from behind drawn curtains in a darkened room as the boxes were loaded onto the truck across the street.

Two… three… four…

How many fucking boxes is he storing over there?

Seven… eight… nine…

I paced back and forth in front of our fake house’s front window a little bit... peeking through them every once in a while to check on what was happening over in front of Whitlock’s… letting ideas wander in and out of my mind over what could be in those boxes… considering his previous career and current profession.

Illegal fire arms?

Cocaine maybe?

Nah… too passé.

Maybe he’s smuggling government secrets.

In boxes?

“Shit.”

I hadn’t noticed I was biting my thumbnail and checking the stairs unconsciously until I accidently bit my finger.

“Fuck.”  It had been a day or two since I’d seen Bella and I couldn’t begin to tell you why I had expected to see her walking down the stairs that early. I only thought about her for a second or two, I swear, before forcing myself to focus on the task I’d been dragged back here to do… which was find shit out about Whitlock, then get outta dodge before he knew what had hit him.

The tennis match from the other day hadn’t proven all that informative, other than to let me know Bella had some killer calf muscles… and a perfectly manicured… lower region… so I made an executive decision to head outside to get a better look at these… boxes of Whitlocks.

Sometimes, aggressive is the best way to handle these situations.

“Kinda early for loading trucks, hey W… Jasper?”  I asked him as I crossed the street as nonchalantly as I could at that hour.

“Oh, hey, good mornin’, Edward, wanna lend a hand?”

“Sure thing.” I guess there’s no better way to get a better look than handling them, huh?

“You’re up early.”

“And you’re giving the UPS guy boxes to deliver?”

“Oh,” he chuckled a typical Texan laugh.  “I’ve uh… got some returns to make, so to speak.”

He winked.

I scowled.

“Since when does UPS return merchandise at four o’clock in the morning?”

Another laugh. “If ya pay enough money, they’ll do whatever you want… whenever you want, Edward.”

And there it was.  Red flag number one.  Something about the way he’d said it… I dunno. A con man’s gut is his life line… ya know?  It’s the thing that can save his life… or end it.

I tried feeling out the weight of one of the boxes in my hands, to narrow my guestimations of what was inside of them, before handing it off to the driver and decided to take a chance.

And besides.  Now I was just plain old curious.

“So, what are you returning?” I asked, picking up another box… turning it over to the driver.

“Oh… you know… stuff,” he answered, making some suspicious eye contact with said driver as he did it, who just rolled his eyes.

“Illegal stuff?”

It was a standard busy-body, cookie cutter neighbor type question. 

And Whitlock was good.  He didn’t miss a beat.  “Stuff I don’t need.”

See that?  How he didn’t actually answer my question?  Red flag number two.

“So… you’re returning stuff, you don’t need, at four AM so no one else will know you don’t need this… stuff?”

He handed over the last of the boxes to the driver and helped him close up the back of the truck, then shook hands with him before he left. 

As the truck drove away, Whitlock turned to me. “I don’t necessarily want or need anyone knowing my business twenty-four-seven, Edward.  I get enough of that during business hours.  Don’t you think?”

What the fuck did that mean?

Did he know?

He was smart, after all.  Marcus even said so.  But if he knew, why wasn’t he calling us out?

“I don’t know… I think in your line of business, people might need to know your… business.” I smiled.  Trying to remain friendly, but in all honesty, I wished I had my damn gun on me.  I had no idea what this guy was capable of and if he decided to get rid of me, no one was up to see it happen.

Maybe Alice Brandon was up… maybe she was…

“I like you, Edward. You’ve got a unique quality about you… despite your odd behavior with the woman you married and supposedly love….”

Unique quality?

Woman I married…

Supposedly love?

“Supposedly?  What the…”  And what odd behavior?

“I’d like you and Bella to join me…”

Oh snap, this was it, we were gonna get inside the man’s house and get some fucking shit done, finally.  And Bella would be eating humble motherfucking pie too, being that I was the one that got us that in.

I grinned over at him and stuck a hand out for him to shake. “We’d be…”

“I’m taking some of the neighbors out Friday night…” he said, taking my hand into his own. “…to a place I’m a silent business owner of… we’re celebrating Ms. Brandon’s fund raising capabilities for the neighborhood and well… I think we’d all love it if you two came with us…. Probably do the two of you some good, to boot.”

What?

“I’m sorry, you…”

“Dancin’… drinkin’… it’ll be a hoot.”

“I don’t… uh….”

“Oh come on, Edward, how often do you take your wife out on her birthday?”

“Her birthday?”

“Yeah, you know… Friday?  It can be a duel occasion.”

Bella’s birthday?  Was Friday?

How did I not know that as her fake husband?

Why would I know that?

How did Whitlock know?

And why did I care?

It didn’t matter. What mattered was we’d get some quality time in with the guy and, seeing that it was a business he apparently owned, at least in part, maybe I could get some dirt there.  Clubs were different from professional businesses, after all, and maybe he was delivering some of those boxes through that establishment he was taking us to.

“Sounds good, Jasper. We’ll be there, just tell me when and where.”

xxxxxx

Back inside the safe confines of my fake home and filled with the confidence I’d earned by confronting our target with a little unexpected candor, I made my way up the stairs, purposefully… having decided it was high time to confront Bella with her own demons.

Tell her how ridiculous this shit was, with her hiding, or – hell whatever it was that she was doing when she was avoiding me at all costs.

Usually directly following some sort of close encounter that typically left my dick hard and my body aching to be consumed by hers.

It sucked.

And I wasn’t about to…

Surprise her with my boldness, considering she wasn’t even there.

When I flung the door to Bella’s small apartment sized bedroom open to give her the what for, I couldn’t help but notice… it was spotless. 

And I don’t just mean “clean.”  I mean like, she hadn’t slept in her bed and I was now questioning whether or not she’d even been there at all over the past couple of days.

And since she wasn’t there…

Someone else might have called it snooping,
But not me.  I prefer the term recon.  Or to those not in the business, reconnaissance.  You can Google it.
While Bella was out doing… whatever the hell it was she was doing at four o’clock in the morning… I was going to do some digging into my enigma of a housemate and fake wife.
I went in to stealth mode, scanning the room for booby traps.
Hey, you never know after the last visit I’d made to her room.
I chuckled a little to myself as I waited for something to spring, ‘cause I mean really… booby-traps?
Who comes up with this stuff?
Anyway, no poisoned arrows flew out of the walls and no noxious gasses started spilling out of the vents so, taking one last glance down the hallway to make sure it was still clear, I stepped forward on the tips of my toes. 
Seriously, if she was to catch me in there… Sayonara, ball sack.
The sun filtered in through her large as fuck windows and I looked around, taking in the mystery that is Bella Swan.  Nothing stands out other than the fact that she's incredibly tidy, so I made a beeline for the bedside tables.  I mean...that is where every woman keeps the stuff they don’t want people finding, right?
I pulled the first drawer open as quietly as possible and immediately noticed two things… a romance novel with a mustached, muscle bound guy on it titled, Love’s Secret Sniper...
...and handcuffs.
Eyebrow cocking is an art, you know.
Reaching inside, my hands wrapped around each item and pulled them out for a closer look – I was barely able to contain the snort of laughter as I admired… and I use that word loosely… the cover of the ‘novel’, immediately wondering if she went for guys with moustaches and then attempted to picture myself with one but then my mind drifted to what any man would do in a situation where he had soft porn in one hand and handcuffs in the other.
Dangerous waters, I tell ya.
That was when I also noticed the cell phone. 
Not the personal cell… Marcus’s cell.  Alone.  On the bed.
I set the undoubtedly masturbation inducing items back down into Bella’s end table and reached for the cell, figuring if she didn’t have it on her, these mysterious outings she was going on were probably not Marcus related… so at least I had that bit of information to go on.
Looking at the screen, I could see she had a text from him.  Marcus, that is, and all it said was, Status?
I breathed in.
And breathed out.
Because I knew, if I clicked on that text, I’d see the rest of their communication, but then she’d know I’d seen it and that would be… really bad, but what irritated me more than that, as I checked my own cell and found zero texts on there waiting for me… was why hadn’t Marcus asked me for an update?
More questions… every day.  Dammit.
I tucked the information away and set the cell back where I’d found it just as her Beamer’s engine sounded outside, alerting me she was home.
Fucking finally.
I adjusted the kinky porn type items back into her drawer just like I’d found them and ran as fast as I could back down to the kitchen to get a nonchalant type midnight snack to gnaw on and avoid looking like I was up to anything.

I was in the middle of enjoying a few perfectly ripened strawberries when she walked in and I nearly lost it when I saw the look on her face… seeing me sitting there, like I’d been waiting for her.

“You don’t look happy to see me,” I said in a very eerie, Michael Douglas sorta way, eying the strawberry in my hand.

“Nice to see you too, Hanibal.”

My eyes left the strawberry and found her gaze.  “I was getting’ a little worried.”

She set her things down. “Didn’t think you’d be up.”

“You thought wrong, I guess.”

“Seems like it.”

“So…” 

“What?”

Why is Marcus texting you and not me?

“Where were you?”

“In case you haven’t forgotten, Edward, I’m not really your wife.  I don’t owe you an explanation.”

I nodded and tossed the container of strawberries down on to the table.  “Fair enough.”

And maybe I’ll just follow your ass next time.

“Great,” she said because… you know… Last Word Wanda.  Then she started up the stairs. 

“We have an opportunity,” I said, never leaving the spot I’d been in since she’d gotten home.  I did, however, stop her in her tracks with my announcement. 
“What kind of an opportunity?”
“Whitlock wants to take us out… with… neighbors,” I told her, making that sappy, happy, fake as hell super neighbor excitement while I said it. 
She thought it over for about five seconds.  “No.”
And now, I’m up.
“What do you mean, no?”
“I mean the last time you made a decision about us attending some stupid neighborhood function… it backfired.”
“This is different. It’s not the whole neighborhood and he’s taking us to a club he owns part of.”
“A club?”
“Yeah… you know…” I jiggled a little white man’s dance for her. “Dancin’… drinkin’…”  I was trying to impersonate Whitlock, but honestly, it fell a little short and she almost laughed.
Almost.
“Edward… I really don’t think we…”
“How ‘bout I flip ya for it?” I asked, pulling the old two-headed coin out of my pocket. Bella waited for me to finish my offer, smirking a little, I thought. 
“Heads we go, tails….”
“Tell ya what,” she told me, holding an open palm up, waiting for me to hand over the lucky coin.  “I’ll flip you for it…”
“I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
“It’s my coin.”
Stare down… stare down… stare down.
“Okay.”
I smirked, readying for the ultimate win, then flipped the coin up in to the air and put my hand out, waiting for it to land safely in my palm when suddenly Bella’s hand jetted out and grabbed it before it got to me.
Shit.
“What are you…”
She looked it over on one side, then the other. “I knew it!  You fucking asshole,” she spat, throwing the coin at me and I barely caught it before it would have blinded me for life. “Jesus Christ, I should have known better… can’t con a con-man, can ya Edward?”
I chuckled.  It wasn’t like I was all that surprised that she’d figured it out.  She was smart like that… and I was amused once again at how angry she could get at the drop of a… well… coin.
“So we’re going?” I asked as she stomped her way up the staircase and flipped me the bird. 
“Friday night!” I called after her.  “That’s in two days… buy something sexy!”  And then, because I just really couldn’t shut the fuck up sometimes, “And leave the under garments at home!”
A door slammed somewhere and I just smiled because, goddamn… that woman seriously had cornered the market on bad ass.
Which is why I didn’t exactly understand the dream I had later that night… or… later that morning, I guess…
I’d  ordered take out from Get-Sum-Din, the Chinese restaurant in town. I was looking forward to settling in and working on how to get around Whitlock’s security system. 
Damn the food was smelling good. 
My laptop floated across the room, flashing a virus warning on its screen as Barbara Ann played on the old nineteen-eighty’s record player over in the corner of the room.
Bella was gonna be so jealous and I was pretty sure she was eating baked tofu or some nasty shit like that.  I had ordered beef and broccoli for me and vegetable lo-mein for her, being the thoughtful fake husband that I was.
I just wasn’t going to tell her until she begged for it.
When I walked in, I noticed there were candles lit all around the kitchen and living room.  I put my food on the bar and sat down to dig in.  About three minutes later she came into the kitchen…
Slow and sexy and cocking an eyebrow.
I bet she could smell the fuck awesome food from across the house.
“Whatcha got there?” she asked, leaning over one of the candles that sat on the bar… inching her way toward me.
“This, B…” I tried to call her by some other name than her own, but my mouth wasn’t working.  “B…” I tried again, but nothing… “B….”
“Problem?” she asked with a slight smile playing around her lips as she picked up a piece of my beef with her fingers. 
“Beef with broccoli,” I answered, punctuating each ‘B’.  It was the best I could do.
“Did you get anything for me?”
“Maybe. What are you going to do for it?” I asked her, taking the fingers that she had just fed herself my beef with… they were still dripping with sauce. 
I put them into my mouth and closed my eyes.
Twitch.
Fucking…
She leaned forward over the candle and started to lick her lips as the end of her hair caught on fire. 
“Shit!” she yelled as she clapped her hands over her hair to stop the spread of the small flame.
Before long the entire house was engulfed in flames, waking me from my dream and my eyes darted around to make sure it wasn’t really happening.   Sniffed for the smell of smoke... then breathed a little easier and tried to remember the dream.
“Fucking bizzaro world…”
Lucky for me, I’d slept through most of the day and night by the time I’d woken up and only had roughly sixteen hours until clubbing with Whitlock.
I checked Bella’s room.  She’d stayed in this time.  Maybe because she suspected I’d follow her… maybe because whatever it was she was out doing… didn’t need doing anymore. 
Either way, I was wide awake and needed something to do till night fall. So, I ran some errands of my own, taking advantage of the fact that Bella was still sleeping and would take at least two hours to get ready for our outing later.

xxxxxxx

She certainly knew how to take a simple suggestion and run with it, might I add.

I mean the dress that woman had slinked herself into? Holy mother of tight fitting, shows off all the right curves outfits. 

And it was cold in that house… if ya know what I mean.

Perky.

Tits.

Just sayin’.

I couldn’t tell if she was still pissed with me or just down and out because it was her birthday and she was spending it trying to dig up dirt on a target she didn’t know or care about for a man she had displaced loyalties to.

I tried to lighten her mood.  “You look….”

“Uh huh…” she responded, cutting me off as she walked by me to go wait outside for the others in our party.

“Bad day?”

“You have no idea,” she told me.  It wasn’t much but I could tell, she was trying to give me something.

Maybe.

Jasper spared no expense, by the way, when he took his neighbors out for a good time.  A black super stretch limo picked us all up and had all the alcoholic beverages you could think of stocked inside.

On the way to the club, Jasper asked a few questions about Bella and me to “get to know us a little better” and made some comment about how much Bella must have loved me to make the move she’d supposedly made all the way from New York with me. 

I was about to tell him to fuck the hell off when Alice Brandon had to throw her two cents in.  “I don’t know, they fight an awful lot,” she said, pouring herself a rum and coke.

Diet probably.

“Everyone fights,” Emmett added.  And I decided I really liked that guy. 

Then Rose.  “But they fight… like, a lot…”  Blah blah dee blah blah … what’d she say?

Alice nods.  “And when they’re not fighting they’re having crazy sex games sex. They don’t seem all that in love to me.”

Were we not sitting right there in the car?

I scowled over at Alice as I passed a glass with Vodka and some sort of juice in it to Bella. 

How I even knew she liked Vodka was beyond me, but I figured I must have remembered she liked the clear liquid from our airplane ride to Texas.

“Sex is directly related to love, Alice, what are you even talking about?”

“Sex is a derivative of love, Edward, there’s so much more to it than that.”  Oooohh… big words.

“Like what?”

And the person who answered my question… wasn’t exactly who I’d expected to hear from.

“Like… the touch… the feel….” Bella started.

I couldn’t help but end her sentence with, “Of cotton?”

Blank stares… all around… as Bella downed her entire drink.

“Kidding.”  Jesus.  I took a swig of the Stella Emmett had so graciously awarded me and then clinked bottles with him.

He really wasn’t so bad, ya know.  Despite his overextended knowledge of lawn mites.

As we pulled up to the building that would house us for the remainder of the evening, Jasper exited the vehicle first, extending a hand for Alice Brandon to hold on to as she stepped out.

I copy-catted Whitlock’s gesture when it was my turn, but Bella ignored my hand and walked right past me, following Whitlock and company through a back door into the club.

I noted the cameras.

And the muscle protecting the doorway.

Bouncers at the back entrance?

Once I finished chuckling at my own pun, I nodded to the two guys and followed the crowd inside.
Alice Brandon and Rose seemed to usher Bella off onto the dance floor while Whitlock and McCarty made a beeline for the bar, so I went with logic and followed them over.
“Quite the place here,” I told the Texan. 
Then Emmett piped in. “He’s got the same staff the place opened with two years ago… they love the guy.”
Great.
More Whitlock lovin’ from his employees.
“Come on now, you’ve gotta have some flaws,” I jested, trying to make the conversation light.
“That I do, Edward,” he said as the bartender set his drink down in front of him.  “That I do.”
He swigged the beer and Emmett shrugged at me.  “Everyone’s got their demons, I guess,” he said and then drank down his own draft.
I couldn’t for the life of me figure these people out.  It was like they were trying to tell me something but that really wasn’t feasible, was it?  I mean they didn’t even know me.
Once our drinks were done and I was in the middle of interpreting every move or expression Whitlock was making, Emmett cocked his head sideways.  “Let’s go show the girls how real men dance.”
I glanced out on to the dance floor and noticed the assholes who were trying to make a Bella Swan sandwich, paying absolutely no attention to the other two ladies that had joined her originally.
“Yeah, Ed,” Whitlock added. “You’re not gonna let those cowboys hone in on your territory are ya?”
He was teasing but I heard the subtle hint of doubt in his voice too.
Like he was daring me to prove something to him.
“Maybe in a minute,” I told them and then watched as they moved in on their ladies for the evening.
I motioned for the bartender. “Can I get another?” I asked him and made to hand him some money but he stopped me. “It’s on Mr. Whitlock’s tab, sir, but thank you.”
I snorted.  “What is this guy, a saint?”
“He has his moments,” he told me, handing another Stella to me over the bar and I made a mental note to have a fireside chat with that guy, sometime.
I drank and watched and fantasized and thought and drank some more when…
“It would be wise for you to go to her, I think.”
I spun at the sound of his voice next to me and when I saw him there I was dumbfounded. Not only because he never once had stepped foot inside a club since the day I’d met the man, but to step inside a club that was partly owned by his current target?
That’s just sloppy.
“Marcus?”
“Good evening, Edward.”
He was leaning on the bar, facing the bartender as I leaned on it in the exact opposite way, facing Bella. 
I didn’t look at him after that first realization that he was there.
“What the hell are you…?”
“I came to see firsthand how my investment is doing.”
“What do you mean?”
I could see his silhouette from the corner of my eye.  He looked down at his fingernails, inspecting them. “I mean, Edward… that this project I have you and Isabella on seems to be taking longer than I’d hoped and I wanted to see if the two of you were properly convincing your neighbors of the undying love you feel for each other.”
I watched as Bella danced between our friends… I mean… the people we’d come with.
“To gain their trust, you must appear to be trust worthy… am I right?”
Of course they weren’t our friends.  We barely knew them and after this job was over, we’d never see them again.
Still, she looked... happy.  “She is acting, Edward.  Do you see the way she pulls at her hair?” He pushed away from the bar, watching her with me then.  And his voice was next to my ear as he put a hand on each of my shoulders.  “How she does not look them in the eyes?”
He was right.  She rarely looked at anyone straight into their eyes. 
Except for me.
“She’s impossible, you know,” I told him, not really knowing if I hated… or loved that about her, but either way, the thought made me smile.
“I know she is difficult, my friend.  But you must remind her of your purpose,” he said. “And Edward, do not forget… the sooner this is over, the sooner you can get back to your silly dreams of sailing around the world and being free of all of this.”
Freedom.
“That is what you still wish for, is it not?”
Absolutely.
But was it really attainable?
“Make them believe,” he told me.  “Make them believe, or this job will require further work and you will owe me yet… another favor before I can let my best man go.”
I was entranced by Bella and trying to see the signs Marcus had pointed out to me.  “The key, Edward, is making Isabella believe… she cannot pretend these feelings… she does not know how to… you have make her feel it.”
He nudged me a little, encouraging me to go and I did.
Walking slowly out onto the dance floor, I observed her. 
Pissed off, to an extent, that she was the difficulty holding me back from completing this mission...  annoyed that it somehow turned me on, but most of all, disheartened over the uselessness that there was an emptiness none of that would be able to fill because of the history we both had with the business.
She finally noticed me approaching her and seemed to distance herself from the rest of the crowd we’d come with. When I was there, not inches away from her, she sort of did this half smiling thing up at me.

“I didn’t think you’d make it out here,” she teased, still moving although not as hard and strong as before I’d arrived.

I felt my lips curl at her playfulness and realized she was a little tipsy.

She was very cute when she was tipsy.

“How could I resist?”  I moved a little and she questioned me with those big brown eyes of hers.

I debated the best way to proceed.  “Promise me you won’t look around when I say what I’m about to say.”

She craned her neck to hear me a little better.  “What?”

“Just… promise me.”

“Okay. I promise,” she said, smiling full on then.

“That you won’t look around.”

A bigger smile, she knew I had her.  “I promise I won’t look around.”

I nodded.  “Marcus is here…”  I told her and her face fell just a tad.  Not enough for anyone but me to notice and I could have sworn she tensed a little, but being Bella… she didn’t make any other insinuations that the information I’d just given her had made her uncomfortable.

“What’s he want?”

I told her… mostly the truth.  The paraphrased version, anyway…  That he wasn’t happy with how long things were taking and how if we didn’t close this deal, our longevity in his ”company” would be the least of our worries… and that I had a bad feeling about his motives with Whitlock.

Something I hadn’t mentioned to Marcus.  For obvious reasons.

 “So, what are we gonna do?”

“Close the deal,” I told her and she wanted to know how.  Which was the trickiest of the questions,  requiring an even trickier answer.

“First step is gaining their trust, right?”

She nodded. “And how do you propose we do that, Edward?” she inquired.

I told her flat out, without any reservations, “We’re going to fall in love, Bella.”

She looked up at me, unable to process, almost, what I’d said to her.  Then her computer like reasoning seemed to kick in and she became curious, I supposed, when she asked, “And just exactly how is that going to happen, Edward?”

I contemplated the situation… and her… and then I let some words flow that had only previously set in the deepest corners of my mind. 

Corners that I’d long forgotten about.

Corners that held feelings I didn’t typically expand on in recent years.

“Well,” I started, taking her hands with mine, down by our sides.  “I thought I’d take your hand in mine for a second or two…” I pulled one of her hands up between us.  “Then kiss the back of it while I gaze into your eyes…” 

I did just that and made note of how much I liked the feel of Bella’s skin against my lips.  It was soft and warm and smelled like gardenias.

Her mouth fell open slightly as I continued.

“Then maybe take your face gently into my hands…. like this…”  I released both of her hands, only to move mine purposefully so that my palms rested ever so gently against each of her cheekbones.  My thumbs rubbed soft nothings against her skin.  “Maybe whisper a few sweet nothings into your ear…”  I leaned forward.  “Like that you look absolutely spectacular this evening.”

I pulled back to witness her lips close so she could swallow. “And then?”

“And then….”

“Yes?”

“Then I’d kiss you,” I said, but I could only let that one hang out there.  This wasn’t like the hood of her Beamer for some reason… or like the hallway floor, this was…

“Well?” she asked me, interrupting my thoughts.

“Well what?”

“What are you waiting for?”

And her eyes were watching mine closely, waiting for her answer.

“I guess I’m waiting for you to tell me that it’s okay.”

She smiled and it was that smile again.  The one that wasn’t fake or put on for the neighbors… or even the one she used around Whitlock… or that lawn boy, Seth…

No, this was mine.  I owned that smile and I took another mental picture of her in that moment… feeling the greed bubble up inside of me for more.

And luckily, she didn’t wait long before telling me, “It’s okay.”

Then my eyes dipped to her lips; they seemed to call to mine as I pulled her slightly toward me and when our mouths met… the world stopped.  Just for us.  Just for that moment.

The music faded and the people darkened into the shadows of the club and my heart palpitated so fast I thought it would burst from the pressure of the blood that pumped through it.

My hands moved instinctively, down, along those curves I’d fantasized about and she pushed herself against the hardness that was growing yet again.

I breathed her in.

Fully.

Fingers brushed along her back… her ass… and yes… the rogue finger returned but she didn’t seem to mind this time.  In fact, her own hands were doing a little roaming and I took a chance at letting my tongue make a move, which she gladly accepted. I moved again, to slip a hand behind her neck in the hopes that I could just hold on to that kiss for about a lifetime.

And when it finally ended, I pulled away just enough to gage her reaction.

Which seemed to mirror mine.

Her eyes opened slowly and she looked me in the eyes and said, “I think this could work.”

I smiled and pulled her into me to dance to the slower song that started playing, and she rested her head against my shoulder for good measure.

My pocket buzzed and I pulled the cell out to check the message that had just come through.

It was from Marcus.  And there were two words.

“Excellent work.”

I slipped the phone away and held onto Bella, glancing around for him. Even as I looked, I knew he’d gone.  His mission had been accomplished and no one was the wiser.

Except for me.

Not that I minded him not being there. Then, before I could register that the club had quieted down, I heard Alice Brandon saying to someone, “Now that’s…. love.”

“I’ll drink to that,” McCarty added and they all encouraged the two of us back over to the bar for more drinks.  Which was when I decided it was probably a good time for my peace offering.

The bartender set a few bottles of beer and drinks that the ladies had ordered down in front of us and  I pulled out a box I’d gotten that afternoon on my errand run.

“I have something for you,” I told Bella, whose face reflected the first look of shock I’d witnessed on her since our initial meeting. 

“What?”

Alice Brandon gasped a little and Rose just giggled snorted as I opened the black velvety box for Bella.

I pulled out the platinum necklace that held a small heart shaped locket at the end and her hand went to her mouth, taking it in.   It was simple, in my opinion.  No etchings for initials or diamonds or anything like that.  She hadn’t crossed my mind as the complex design kinda girl.

 “Turn around, I’ll put it on you.”

She did, slowly, holding her hair up so I could see what I was doing. I couldn’t help but notice Whitlock’s look of approval while I clasped the necklace closed and then took the hair from her hands to move it out of my way before kissing her gently on the shoulder.

“Happy birthday Bella,” I told her into her ear and then I was awarded yet another gasp from Alice Brandon. 

“Oh my god, I take everything I said about him back. He’s perfect.”

Bella turned slightly to kiss my jaw before quietly telling me, “Thank you, Edward, you don’t know what…” and I smiled in return, reaching out for my beer in order to make a toast to the woman I was fake married to and had just taken a leap of faith with.  “Oh, I think I do,” I whispered back.
 “To Bella,” I said, holding my bottle of Stella up in order to clink with Bella’s drink.
I looked deep into her soul through those suddenly seemingly innocent eyes of hers.  “I couldn’t ask for a better partner,” I told her… because it was truth.  Not a lie.  I didn’t claim her to be my wife or a subset of my existence.  She was my partner.  Just not the wedded kind.
The rest of our little group repeated the mantra and we all tapped glasses before drinking… and that’s when I saw it in Whitlock’s eyes.
He smiled his Texan smile, nodding over at me and I did the same.
It was there alright.  I could feel like it like a bookie feels a win at the races.
Trust.
And I planned on taking full advantage of it.