Chapter 23 - Grace

 

Chapter 23. Grace

Bella

---

I grab my purse but decide to leave my jacket behind. It's all the way across the apartment, and Alice is watching my every move.

She knows.

I know she knows.

I just can't let her know that I know she knows.

Somehow, that would be too much.

Actually, it's already too much, with Edward standing there in the doorway in his white collar and clerical clothes, looking like he can't wait to get me alone.

Hot, impatient, hand-holding priest.

I can't close the door behind us a moment too soon.

"Where have you been?" he asks as soon as we've got some privacy.

"Um, Brooklyn?"

As we walk down the hall toward the elevator, he pulls out his collar and starts unbuttoning his shirt. "You hungry?"

A Captain Marvel tee is stretched over his chest. I catch myself staring and remember to look at his face.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

"I hope I'm taking you to dinner." He folds the clerical shirt and hangs it from his arm, then slides his collar into his back pocket.

"But -" I search his eyes as we wait for the elevator.

"But maybe you don't want to? You didn't answer my texts." He looks disappointed.

"What was I supposed to say?"

"I don't know. Say you're all right. Say you don't hate me, say-"

"I don't hate you." I can't let him think that.

Edward looks relieved. "Good." He slips his hands into his pockets. "Do you like Italian?"

"I am Italian, so…"

"So, Randazzo's?" he asks.

And I laugh.

"What?"

I can't tell him it's the spot where I realized I loved him while I was on a date with Jacob Black. "Nothing. They just have shit beer, but a really nice view."

"Somewhere else then?"

"Nope. It's kinda perfect."

This time I can love him there in person.

In the elevator, I glance over at Edward.

I remember the way he looked half naked, the feel of him between my thighs. I rub my legs together and lean against the elevator for support.

It's all I can do not to jump his bones right here.

I remind myself of the words tattooed over his heart and manage to barely hold myself back.

But he's staring at me.

"Really, Edward?"

"What?"

"The look?" I concentrate on the ceiling. "So not fair right now."

He laughs. "I'm not doing it on purpose. I swear."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Edward tries very hard not to look at me any kind of way after that. Not in the elevator. Not as we walk down the hall. Not as he holds the front door open for me. It's not working, of course. The more he tries, the more I like him.

Once we step outside, I'm grateful for the cool night air. I need all the help I can get to chill the fuck out. Then Edward takes my hand like it's the most normal thing in the world and I'm right back where I started.

Back in the elevator. Back in his office. Back in the confessional.

Jesus, I'm completely undone by the littlest thing - his fingers twined with mine.

"I'm starving," he says. "The only thing I had to eat today was biscotti at your parents' house."

It turns out mentioning my parents is one surefire way to stop me from swooning. I'm aghast.

"You were hanging out with my parents?"

"I was working." He doesn't look entirely pleased.

"Oh. Right."

I want to ask him what kind of priestly business brought him there. I do not want to know what my parents probably said about me. Whatever it was, he's here anyway, holding my hand as we walk through the sleepy streets of Sheepshead Bay. It couldn't have been that bad.

"I knew she was hiding the biscotti," I mutter. Figures she'd save them for Edward.

He laughs a little and tugs my hand so we come to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk. "So, serious question." Then knits his brows and looks solemn as he stares down at me.

Shit. Maybe they threw me under the bus after all. "Um, okay."

"What's this about you trying to kill Father Volturi?"

"What?" I expected them to call me a slut, not a murderer.

"Something about you showing up for confession possessed by a demon?" His serious facade starts to crumble and a sliver of a smile breaks through.

I freakin' giggle. I can't help it.

"Frothing at the mouth in the confessional? Really Bella?" His eyes dance in the streetlight.

There are so many worse stories they could have told. The demon possession is actually one of my finest moments.

"I mean, it must have been difficult to find an exorcist," he says with a laugh.

I shrug as we start walking again. "We couldn't find one, Father. Still possessed."

"Maybe I can help with that. I took a class." I glance up at him, and he's giving me the look again. I think he realizes it because he tries to make his face look completely expressionless.

Dear God, every time he tries not to flirt with me, it makes me love him more.

"You want to exorcise the demon from me?" I ask, nudging him with my elbow. "Is that what they're calling it in the seminary these days?"

His expression turns sincere. "No, they still call it sex. That was me... trying to be witty... about exorcism."

When did I start finding awkward so damn sexy?

"Good to know. About the priests in training. And… the sex."

Edward blushes as he holds the restaurant's door open for me. It's freakin' adorable.

"You sure you want to 'exorcise me'? 'Cause it seems like you like me. Demons and all."

"Absolutely," he replies without hesitation.

Then he seems to think twice. "I mean, I like you. Not that you have demons. I mean, we all have demons. Jesus. Fuck. I'm not very good at this." He shakes his head and takes a deep breath. "I haven't been on a date in over a decade."

I stop in my tracks, ignoring the hostess smiling at the two of us. "This is a date?"

"See what I mean? I haven't even established what this is and here I am -"

"Yes, here you are," the hostess says, smiling brightly at me and Edward. "Welcome to Randazzo's! First date?"

Edward's mouth hangs open.

"I'm actually an old pro," I tell her, then nod to the tall drink of water by my side. "But I think it might be this guy's second date. Ever."

Edward narrows his eyes at me and rubs the back of his neck, but he's grinning. He lets me take his hand as the hostess leads us to an empty booth by the windows. Moonlight glitters on the water and lights twinkle across the inlet on Manhattan Beach.

"Pro tip, Father. You should leave the clerical clothes at home when you take a girl out," I say as he shoves his shirt into a corner of the booth.

"And you should probably call me Edward," he tells me. "If this is a date."

He gives me the same kind of hopeful look Jake did the other night. Except this time I want to throw my arms around his neck and say something ridiculous like, 'Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!'

But he's a priest. With his vows tattooed on his chest.

How the hell is this supposed to be a date?

I mean, dear Lord, I'd really like to date the gorgeous guy in the nerdy comic book tee sitting across from me.

I'd like to date the man I happen to love.

Okay, God, I'm just gonna go with this.

"Bella?" Edward asks.

I jump a little in my seat. "Just saying some prayers. Don't mind me. God's got a sense of humor, you know?"

His face practically lights up. "You're praying?"

I shrug. "More like talking. Silently. To God."

He smiles. "You're praying."

"I am not praying."

"You just said you were praying."

"Whatever, you dork. I misspoke. It's not like God's there to talk back or anything."

Edward picks up a menu and reads it over, pretending like he doesn't care one way or the other. "What were you praying about?"

He's not a good liar. But as I look across at him, he is undeniably mouthwatering, and he's taking me on a date. "My prayers were already answered."

Edward drops the menu, raises an eyebrow, and gives me his undivided attention. "So you admit God was listening. And answered you." Now he's smirking.

I'd like to kiss that look right off his face. I think I could. But now's probably not the right time.

"I admit nothing," I tell him instead. "Anyway, I'm pretty certain God wouldn't approve."

"I'm not so sure."

He says it like he's been thinking about it too, like his pretend boss might approve of this date. It's a really nice thought… if you believe in a God. Which I do not.

Not strictly speaking, anyway.

"So, have you been here before?" he asks.

"Just a couple of days ago. With Jake. Ooh - have you tried their tiramisu?"

Edward's jaw tightens as he scans the menu again. "Jake, huh?"

I reach for his hand. "Hey, Alice set us up. My parents love him, but I don't."

"He seems like a good guy." Wow, Edward's really studying that menu.

"Yeah, but good guys have never been a turn on for me, so..."

Not until now, anyway. Not until I met the guy sitting across from me.

Edward nods and finally glances up from the damned menu. I try for a reassuring smile.

"No second date in your future then?"

"Well, he's supposed to take me to Angela's wedding, if that's even happening. If I'm even going."

Edward practically groans and stops making eye contact. "Happening."

I drop his hand. "You're marrying them?"

"They're determined. They said all the right things." He doesn't seem excited about it.

"Ugh, well the two of them deserve one another."

Edward and I both read the menu in silence. I try to focus on food instead of my simmering disappointment. I was sure Edward was going to save Angela from making the biggest mistake of her life.

I've never expected a date to fix my family before. It's probably not a fair ask.

Of course, I've also never dated a priest.

I glance over the top of the menu. Edward's staring.

"Do you want to talk about what happened between you Ben?" he asks.

"On our first date? I don't think so. I'll save it for my next priest."

"Your -"

"Welcome to Randazzo's! Can I take your… Father Edward?"

Edward and I freeze for a moment. Lauren Mallory's standing next to our booth with a pad and a pen, wearing an apron and a stunned look on her face.

"And Bella Swan?" she asks.

"Hey, Lauren. Long time, no see."

The last time she saw me was… not good. It involved boxed wine, bad weed, and the Nazareth High School Drama Club.

Lauren doesn't waste her attention on me, though.

"My God, Father! I almost didn't recognize you without… you know." She brushes her finger over the front of her neck in a tight circle, like she's trying to talk about a clerical collar and act sexy at the same time.

I know that move, Lauren. I perfected that move.

Edward flashes me an uneasy smile. "I like to keep my parishioners guessing."

"Is that what you're doing here? With Bella? Guessing?"

Her eyes narrow as she looks between the two of us.

"Exorcism!" I practically shout.

Lauren jumps.

"Excuse me?"

A smile spreads across Edward's face as he shakes his head.

"Bella's been concerned..." He glances around the restaurant and then lowers his voice to a whisper. "About demons. It's been a problem since her first confession."

Lauren smiles nervously, then glances over her shoulder and gives me a good once over. "I get that."

"He took a class." I shrug. "Figured it couldn't hurt to try out his... demon services."

xXxXx

After Lauren takes our order, I try not to regret everything - from the penne alla vodka I chose on the fly, to the way I forced Edward to lie to our server, to the fact I care that he's marrying Angela and Ben.

"Be right back," I tell Edward, slipping out of the booth. "I need to use the bathroom."

What I actually need is a minute without Edward sitting across from me, looking at me adoringly. I'm suddenly second guessing each and every time I've held his hand tonight. What if he says something nerdy and sweet and I do it again? What if I lose my head, lean across the table and kiss him?

We're less than two miles from St. Mary's.

Less than a mile from my parents' house.

Fuck. Less than ten feet from Ben Cheney.

As I walk through the bar on my way to the bathroom, I spot Ben leaning against the wall like he doesn't have a care in the world. He's got Lauren cornered near the kitchen. No one would guess he's supposed to be walking down the aisle in three days.

I vomit a little in my mouth as I slip by the two of them.

In the bathroom, I splash some water on my face and weigh my options. I could just duck out the front door and leave Randazzo's, avoid Edward for the rest of the week, head out on tour, and forget about my almost-affair with a man of the cloth.

Just the thought of it makes me feel like I've been hollowed out with a dull knife.

I want every single moment I can get with him. I want whatever he's willing to give, whether it's kissing or just holding hands. Hell, I'd help him write a homily if that's what he wanted.

Right now he wants to be here, with me, despite my demons. I should hear him out.

I take one last look in the mirror and see the jeans, the ripped Doors t-shirt, the messy bun. I'm dressed for moving Alice into Jane's house, not a date.

I pull my hair down and run my fingers through it. I pinch my cheeks to bring a little color to my face. Then I take a deep breath and head back out.

Ben's still talking to Lauren. He pulls at the strap of her apron. She looks like she's trying to politely shrink away from him.

"There's this red dress at the warehouse that would look great on you." His eyes drift below her face, then he places a finger between Lauren's breasts. "Cut down to about here. You'd look pretty hot."

I tug on Ben's shoulder. "You want a knee to the balls again, buddy?"

He spins around and looks me over. His smile is far from kind. I suppose we're past that.

"Look who the cat dragged in."

"Shouldn't you be home with your fiancé?"

Lauren's eyes go wide. "Fiancé?"

"Haven't you heard? This fine specimen of manhood is marrying my little sister in a couple of days. We're all really excited."

I put an arm around Ben's shoulders and squeeze. It gives Lauren just enough room to slide between him and the wall.

He shrugs out of my grip. "Why the fuck are you on my ass all of a sudden, Swan?"

"Why couldn't you have just stayed away from my family?"

"Since when do you give a fuck about them?"

His words sting, but if he asked me the same question a week ago, he'd probably be right.

"She's my little sister. I care."

"You think she cares about you?"

Probably not, but it doesn't matter. She's family.

"Go home, Ben. You're wasted. You're gonna get yourself in trouble."

Ben cracks his knuckles and scans the room. "It's my bachelor party, babe. An Angela-approved exploit. Who woulda' thought you would try to get in the way of my last night of freedom?"

xXxXx

Edward can tell I'm not happy when I slide back into the booth.

He looks determined as he reaches across the table. He takes my hand like he doesn't care who the hell sees.

"Everything okay?" he asks.

Ben Cheney's ruined enough for me. I'm not going to let him ruin this night too.

"It is now."

"You took your hair down."

I try to pat down any fly-aways. "This date took me by surprise. For future reference, you should give a girl some warning."

"For future reference, it looks beautiful either way."

I drop my hand and smile like the love-struck idiot I am. Edward gazes back at me, and fuck, this is awkward.

"Crazy weather we're having."

He laughs. "Weather?"

"I don't know. I'm nervous." I fiddle with the cloth napkin. "First date and all. And the guy I'm seeing? He's really cute."

Edward tries to casually hide a smile behind his hand, but it doesn't hide the way he's blushing. He shakes his head, amused.

"So we're going to talk about the weather?" he asks.

"I don't know. Do you have a better idea?"

He's thoughtful for a moment. "Maybe a few rounds of ask me anything?"

I grin. "You first."

I tell Edward about the phone call that changed everything for me. Mike Newton called me out of the blue and told me he listened to every single song I'd ever posted, then invited me to tour with him. I don't tell him about everything that came afterwards. It's not first date kind of material.

Edward tells me about his first and only serious girlfriend, Kate. She was older, more experienced, and apparently taught him how to kiss like a rock star. Actually, better than a rock star. I would know.

I tell him about my roommates back in L.A. and how I met Emily. He tells me about some of the other priests in training he used to know and where they ended up.

He tells me he's Team Stark, and I like him enough to stick around.

"Stark's got a plethora of wealth at his fingertips, Bella. He can build anything. Do anything."

"My point exactly. It's easy for someone like that to pretend to be a superhero."

"He doesn't have to be. He wasn't born into it. Or made. He chooses it. He wants to make a difference, despite his arrogance."

His passion is adorable even though he's so wrong. "But… America's ass."

With those two words it's clear to him. Finally. "I can't argue with you on this, can I?"

I feel smug as I take a bite of my tiramisu.

Edward looks suddenly shy. "I have another question."

I wink and take a sip of my wine. "Ask me anything, buddy."

He grins. "Is Lust... about me?"

And I spit my wine across the table.

"It's the one you talked about in your second confession, isn't it? The blasphemous one?" He takes his napkin and starts wiping up the wine. "I mean, I didn't want to assume…"

I think my cheeks are probably the same color as the red blotches on his napkin.

"Alec says it's the one that's gonna make me famous." I bite my lip. "And yeah. It's about you."

He eases back into his booth and crosses his arms, then smiles over at me like he just won something.

I cover my face. My cool flies out the window. I've wanted him since the first time I saw him and now he knows.

He doesn't take his eyes from mine as he scoops some of the cream from his cannoli with his finger, then sucks it between his lips.

I drop my fork and die a little inside.

"Your turn," he says. "Ask me anything."

"You like to think of ways to make me smile."

Edward clears his throat. "That's not a question."

"Would you tell me some of your ideas? I'd really like to hear."

He peers around the dining area like he wants to make sure no one's listening. Then he leans across the table and bites his lip a little before replying, "Take you to a show downtown. Catch a good movie. Avenger related, of course. Go dancing."

It's all sweet. It would definitely get a smile out of me.

"I'd probably tell you some corny jokes. And when I finally had you alone, I'd take off your top. Then your jeans. Finish what we started yesterday." His eyes dip, then catch mine again. He looks like he's itching for another confession. "There are so many other parts of your body I'd like to kiss."

My mouth is suddenly dry.

Edward sits back and casually sips at his wine like he didn't just strip me naked in his mind. "My turn to ask a question?"

Nervous laughter forces itself from my mouth. "I think you've earned it."

"Tell me about your tatt?"

"This one?" I ask, showing him A2's headstock on my forearm.

"No. The, um… the one I saw yesterday. After we… After you took off your top." His eyes are smoldering. It's the look times a million. I practically want to take off my top right here, in the booth.

I run a fingertip over my ribs and squirm. It's not exactly where I want to feel fingers at the moment. "They're all of my most important dates. The day I moved out. The day I became an aunt for the first time. The day Alec said he wanted to rep me. The day Mike called."

"Just those four?" he asks.

I shrug. "So far."

"Christ, there are going to be so many others."

And shit. Fuck. My eyes are suddenly a little glassy, because I wish just one of these was with him.

"Your turn," he says quietly.

"Tell me about yours?" I ask. I place a hand over my chest.

There's a bittersweet flicker of recognition in his eyes. "I got it after I took my vows. I was blitzed out of my fucking mind."

"Miller High Life?"

He chuckles. "I almost wish I hadn't told you that."

"It did factor into whether I came out with you tonight."

"And yet, here you are," he teases.

Yeah, I'm here. Snuggled into a red pleather booth at the back of Randazzo's with the best man I know. Despite my insecurities. Despite my past. Despite my fears I'm only thinking about myself. Despite the vows he had inked on his chest.

"Those words still mean something to you?"

"They do. They just…" He puts a hand over his heart. "It's why you left yesterday, isn't it?"

I look out at the water and wipe at the corner of my eye. Edward waits patiently. When I glance back at him, he looks worried. I am too. I'm worried about his soul.

"I know we joke about me being a demon or whatever, but I don't want to come between you and what you've got going on with God."

He reaches across the table to take my hand. "What I have going on with God is fluid."

I raise my eyebrows.

"It changes all the time. I'm learning all the time. So, what these words meant to me four years ago, mean something a little different today." He swallows. "Tonight."

"I just don't want to pull a Bella, you know? Barge into your life and make everything about me. Ruin everything. Ruin the most important thing."

"You couldn't possibly ruin anything. I still have free will. I think God would prefer it that way."

"Anything else for you two this evening?" Lauren asks. Edward and I drop our hands quickly, but Lauren doesn't say anything. This time she offers me a kind smile instead of flirting with my date.

I have a list of ideas, but I settle on asking for the check.

She hesitates before she leaves. "Thanks for your help back there, Bella." She nods toward the bar. "Some guys just can't hold their liquor, you know?"

"And then there are other guys who can't even handle leaving the house," I add.

Lauren laughs and looks from me to Edward. "I think whatever you did with her worked, Father. Bella was a godsend tonight."

Edward peeks over at me. "Somehow, I'm not surprised."

xXxXx

Outside, it's quiet and a light mist falls from the sky. Edward takes my hand again as we head off toward Jane's. We walk slowly. I damn near stroll somewhere for the first time in my life.

I don't want the night to end. After all, Edward might go back to being a priest tomorrow.

I'm going to enjoy what I have. While I have it.

"What was Lauren talking about in there?" he asks.

"My future brother-in-law was doing what he does best - sleazing up the joint."

Edward's fingers flex and he looks me over. "Are you okay? Did he say something?"

"I'm fine, but do you really think he should be marrying Angela?"

Edward sighs. "When I was at your parents' today, I realized I'm biased. Ultimately, it's not my call to make. I'm putting my faith in God."

Edward glances heavenward and gets a face full of rain. When he looks back at me, wet hair hangs over his forehead.

"That's a lot of freakin' faith. We're talking about Angela's life here."

"If faith was simple, it wouldn't mean anything."

He holds my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles. My heart feels like it flip-flops in my chest.

"It doesn't make much sense, but it's hard not to trust you when you look at me like that."

"I'm not asking you to trust me, Bella."

"But I don't believe in -"

"Maybe you should try talking silently? To God? I'd never ask you to pray. That would be ridiculous."

I have a hunch I might try it later, just because he asked. I think Edward knows it too, but instead of making me admit it out loud, he just smiles. The rain picks up as we turn onto a side street. Edward wraps an arm around my shoulders and holds me close.

"When do you leave?" he asks.

"Sunday night."

He nods.

"Alec says things are about to get big."

He squeezes my shoulder. "What you've always wanted."

It's true. I want it so bad. But now I want one more thing - the man at my side.

We slow down as Jane's building comes into view in the distance. The rain's coming steadier now, but I don't mind. If we walk slow enough, it might take all night to get there.

"Is St. Mary's what you've always wanted?" I ask.

"I'm not sure what I want anymore." He almost sounds like he didn't mean to say it out loud. Then he turns to me and takes both my hands in his. "I know I want to be here with you. Right now."

"Me too," I admit. My heart flutters. The breeze blows some wet hair across my face, and Edward pushes it behind my ear. Little rivulets run down my back and between my breasts.

"Can I ask you something?" he murmurs as he peers into my eyes.

"Sure. Anything. You know that."

"It's more like a favor."

"Oh...kay…" I'm suspicious, but curious.

He brings my hand to his mouth and kisses my open palm, before placing it over his chest. My fingertips run over the words inked under his shirt. I can almost see them clearly through the damp, threadbare cotton.

"If anything scares you again…" I feel his heart beating underneath my palm. "Would you talk to me about it? Instead of running away?"

I swallow. Talking about my fears isn't my strong suit. Asking me to talk to him about his relationship with God is like asking me to talk about ancient Mesopotamian farming techniques… in Latin.

"I'll try."

Edward smiles but doesn't look entirely pleased. "That's all I'm asking."

I rub my hand over his chest. "I'll really try. Like I'll try really, really hard."

"Hard?" he asks, quirking an eyebrow.

Speaking of hard, I take a deep breath as I gather some of his t-shirt into my fist. "Can I still ask you anything?" I wonder as I stare up at him.

He stuffs his hands into his pockets and sighs dramatically, like he's doing me a favor. "Fine, one more question."

I slide my hands over his broad chest, then squeeze his biceps. "Seriously, do you work out?"

He tries to look serious. "My body's a temple, Bella."

"Yeah it is," I agree, looking him over.

Just as I'm checking to see if the coast is clear for a kiss, the skies open up. Edward tries to shield me from the downpour with his body, but it's not going to work. Instead, I take his hand and we make a run for it. Our feet splash through puddles as we race the last block to Jane's place.

Once we're there, we huddle underneath the awning over the entrance. I shiver as I try to wring out my t-shirt.

Edward pushes wet hair from my cheeks and wipes raindrops from my forehead, before taking my face in his hands. Rainwater drips from his hair. His t-shirt is plastered to his chest. His tattoo is on full display.

"You're all wet," he murmurs.

He's right, but I don't think he has any idea what he's saying.

"Here." He pulls the black clerical shirt out from underneath his arm, then holds it up so I can thread my arms through. It's not entirely dry, but it smells like him, all soap and sandalwood. He fixes the shirt collar, smooths out the sleeves.

"You didn't have to do this."

"I could see everything," he tells me, pulling his shirt closed over my chest.

"What? you didn't want to?"

Edward's Adam's apple bobs. His knuckles skim over my breasts before his hands settle on my hips.

"One last question?" he asks.

I lean back against the bricks and look up at him. "I don't know. You might be all out of questions."

"As if you could resist me." His smile's a tad smug, but he's not wrong.

"Go for it," I tell him. I mean it in every single sense of the phrase.

"Can I kiss you goodnight?" The way he asks, it's like he already knows what I'm going to say. I freakin' love it.

I thread my fingers through his wet hair and pull his head to mine. Maybe he was expecting me to answer with words, because the kiss seems to catch him by surprise. But he relaxes pretty quickly and kisses me back. His hands move to my waist and I feel him fist my shirt like he wants to take it off again. Our lips part and it's like we're seventeen - before he wanted to be a priest. Before I left home. Before either of us had anything else pulling us apart.

Rain pounds on the awning above us almost as loud as my heart pounds in my ears. His hands are warm as they explore under the cover of his clerical shirt. Meanwhile, I cling to him, like if I hold on tight enough, I can make time stand still.

All good things must come to an end, though. Minutes, hours… maybe days later, he smooths my tee back into place and buttons his shirt over mine. When I glance around at the world beyond our awning, it feels like we're the only two people in all of Brooklyn.

But when I look into his eyes, I realize it's a little different than that. We're the only two people who matter.

"Goodnight, Edward."

"Sleep well, Bella."

As if I could.