Chapter 27 - Canticle

 

Chapter 27. Canticle

Father Edward

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The Uber I miraculously ordered comes to a stop and jolts me awake.

I look out the window, blinking a few times. "Are we here?"

"It's the fucking address you fucking gave me." The driver shoves the tiny piece of paper I gave him into my chest. "Next time just put the right fucking address in the fucking app, asshole."

Sure, he's gruff and apparently angry, but I give him five stars anyway. He got me here.

"Christ be with you," I tell him with a sloppy sign of the cross. I stumble a little as I get out of the car, and it takes a hot minute to find my balance.

Jesus. How many rum and cokes did Charlie buy me, anyway? I lost count after three. Then there were the shots Billy Black sent over.

Fuck.

The chilly sea air helps wake me up, and I realize I'm right on the water. Just a few miles from home, but somehow worlds away from St. Mary's.

I know I'm in the right place when I see Bella. She's in a chair on the front porch of a small cottage. It's one in a long string of identical houses lining Manhattan Beach.

She's wearing the flannel I love. Her feet are bare. Her hair's down. And she's smiling like she's really fucking happy to see me.

Which is good, because I'm really fucking happy to see her. Talking childhood stories with Charlie and high school stories with Emmett at the bar tonight - she's been on my mind the entire time. And now … here she is.

She's so much better in person. She looks like an angel, all easy smiles and beautiful blush.

Lord, thank you for Bella.

"Hey." I smile when I get to the door. It takes me longer than I would have thought. My feet feel really heavy.

"I wasn't sure you were coming."

I hold up the miniature scroll she gave me when we left her parents' house. "When you give me pieces of paper, I do as I'm told."

Bella grins. "Good to know."

"You look amazing, by the way." I tug at the collar of her shirt "You wear this on purpose?"

"A shirt?" she teases. "Totally on purpose."

"You know how I feel about flannel." I rub her sleeve.

"Shit, and I went and left all my flannel lingerie in LA."

"That… is a shame." The railing looks like a good place to lean against since the ground is definitely slanting underneath my feet.

"Here, let's get you inside," Bella says, taking me by the hand. I remember the first time she ever did it - the night we saw Emily Young. I was hesitant and guilt ridden. Now it's the most natural thing in the world.

"Your dad, by the way? Great guy. I'm pretty sure he got me trashed tonight."

She looks me over with a critical eye. "He definitely got you trashed. I should have warned you."

I try to smile. "Sneaky bastard."

"You know he apologized to me?" she says as she guides me into the house.

"No shit." I'm even more impressed with the guy than I was before. "Go Charlie."

The place is tiny inside. A whole cottage crammed into just one room, with a fantastic view of the ocean straight ahead through a wall of windows. I spot her guitar sitting on top of a… Holy shit, that's a king sized bed, daring me not to notice it.

It's just like the one Bella said she wanted.

Nothing but me and you. No phones, no clothes. Nothing but time.

I should probably pray to God for the strength to steer clear of the bed.

I don't.

"Where'd you find this place?" I pull my jacket off and toss it toward a chair.

It misses. By a lot.

Bella hangs it on a hook just inside the doorway while I kick off my shoes.

"AirBnB. Alice and Jane could use some privacy. And, um, me too. You want a drink?" She lets my hand go and heads for the refrigerator.

I fall down onto a huge sectional in front of the windows. Thank God for sofas. "Got any rum?"

"I was thinking more like Raspberry Zinger."

"Zingerrrrrrr. That's a funny word."

As she putters around the kitchen, filling a kettle rifling through drawers, she hums a melody I can't put my finger on. It's the closest I've been to hearing her sing. Meanwhile, I become one with the couch.

When she turns around she stops short. Her expression goes from playful to worried.

"What's wrong?"

Without even thinking about it, she's kind, caring, and so fucking hot.

Jesus, she's perfect… for me.

She's perfect for me.

I look her over, head to toe. Bare feet, bare legs. She may be wearing shorts, maybe not. The flannel covers too much to tell for sure. I realize for the first time since I got here… it's just me and her. No Jasper. No house full of kids. No Alice and Jane.

"Edward?" she asks. Shit, I haven't answered. "Is something wrong?"

"Not anymore."

She swallows and blushes as... I'm... ogling her, so I find something else to stare at. A notebook is open on the coffee table. I see 'Lost in -' written at the top of the page. Bella rushes over to close the journal and tosses it onto the bed.

"So how was it?" she asks. "Going out for drinks… With Charlie?"

I lean my head back and close my eyes. Just for a minute. "I always wondered what having a family would be like."

"You coulda' just asked. It's a real pain in the ass." She laughs a little, but there's something different about the way she says it. It's like she doesn't entirely believe it anymore.

I open my eyes again to look at her. "It's pretty fucking awesome, if you ask me. But I'm biased. It's your family, after all."

"You think my family is awesome?" she asks, handing me a mug of fruity tea. Sadly, I don't think she's added the rum I asked for.

"God yes. They're raw, and real… and Charlie is fucking hilarious. Did you know Emmett saved a guy from drowning in his own swimming pool?"

Fuck. My tongue is numb. Did I say that right?

"You really wanted to hang with them." It's not a question. It's like she's just realized it. She tucks her feet underneath her on the other side of the couch, warming her hands on the mug.

"They made me feel connected." In ways I never knew I was missing until tonight. I thought all I needed was God and maybe Jasper.

"Oh, they bring out all kinds of feelings, that's for sure. They're better when you're around. I need to start taking you to all my family functions."

I have this flash of it in my head - going to birthday parties, buying gifts. Graduations, holiday gatherings. And being there for all of it… with her... as more than a priest. More than her friend.

"What would Jake say?" It comes out before I can stop it.

Fucking alcohol.

Bella's eyes go wide. She sips her tea. I'm sure the last thing she wants is for me to interrogate her about who she takes to what functions.

"It's really none of my business, I'm ssss...so not sorry." I point at her as I laugh. She almost had me there, but it's true. I'm not sorry. I really want to know.

"He thinks you like me." She bites her bottom lip as she peers over her mug in my direction.

I sigh, remembering the look he gave me at the end of dinner. He's not wrong. "I was a little too obvious tonight, I guess."

"I think he's a little jealous."

And I laugh. And laugh. And fucking laugh. "Of a priest?"

"Yeah, it's probably really pissing him off."

"Well, touché then, Jake." I take a sip of the tea. Fuck. My head is spinning. I don't know if it's from the copious amounts I've had to drink, or because I'm here. Alone. With Bella. With that big fucking bed about five feet away, screaming for me to take her over there and… fuck.

Also… fuck.

Bella catches me glancing at it.

"I don't want you to get the wrong idea, buddy. I don't have any expectations." She peeks over at me again. She's blushing. Again.

"Neither does God, apparently." I chuckle and sip some more. Because where for fucking art thou, God? I keep asking you what to do but you just … ignore, ignore, ignore.

I look over at Bella, sitting there, looking so damn divine. "When you blush like that, I really want to kiss you."

"I thought you were going to kiss me when we said goodbye tonight."

"You have no idea the amount of prayer and self control it took not to."

"There's no one here now though."

She puts down the mug of tea on the coffee table.

I follow her lead and set mine down too.

"Can I still ask you anything?" I smile because I already know I can. And I know she'll answer. I just like seeing her reaction. I just like her. So fucking much.

She kicks my thigh with her bare foot. "What is it?"

I narrow my eyes. Or… I try to. Maybe I'm squinting? "You don't really prefer Marvel over Widow, do you?"

"We've been over this a million times. My answer's not going to change, no matter how many times you ask."

"Yeah, but Widow… she's the one you gotta root for. She's the black sheep, the outcast, you know? Just like…"

"Like me?" Bella pulls her foot away, but I reach for her ankle, and pull it into my lap.

"No! I'm strictly talking Marvel here. Most of those Avengers, they've had it so easy, brought up to be the good guy, have all the right tools, make all the right choices, but not her. She's more like-"

"Loki!" we both say.

Bella's face lights up. "He's the best. And the worst. He's just -"

"Right? You've just got to root for the guy."

She narrows her eyes. "Edward? Did we just agree on something Marvel-related?"

"I think we did."

I'm smiling like a fucking idiot, and she's too far away.

I'm not sure I can still walk, so I find myself kind of crawling over to her from my side of the couch. I try not to fall off the fucking thing as I do it.

Bella looks surprised and her eyes glitter. Her limbs unfurl underneath me, like she's been waiting for this. I have been too. I just didn't realize it until this very minute.

Before I know it, I'm hovering over her, trapped in those eyes like I've left one plane of existence and entered hers.

"Do you want me to kiss you?"

She nods her head. "So far, the answer's always yes. I always want you to kiss me."

"Yes is good." I brace myself above her. "So, you like Loki?"

She laughs. "Absolutely."

"And Cap, and Captain Marvel, and…. Ed Norton for some ungodly reason?"

"Um… yeah."

"You know what you are, Bella Swan?"

"A girl who's dying to be kissed?"

"You're a sexy..."

I dip my head enough to meet her lips. Just barely.

"Talented..." I kiss the corner of her mouth. She whimpers. I grin.

"Humble..." I graze her neck and feel her heartbeat.

"Geek..." I nibble just below her ear.

"Just like me," I whisper.

And fuck. At first, I think that's all I can give her. It's more than I should give her since I am a priest. And priests have rules.

Stupid.

Fucking.

Catholic.

Rules.

But then I kiss her again. And again.

When our lips part, her hands slide around my waist. It's enough to tip me over the edge of reason. I relax my arms so I'm pressed flat against her body. When I find the hem of the flannel, I slip my fingers underneath until I feel her skin. And then her breast.

She arches her back into my hand. Her nipple hardens. I pinch it like she did the other night. I try my best to mimic what I watched her do to herself. I try my best to be smooth, despite what she's doing to me.

She sucks in some air and wraps a leg around me, pulling me tighter against her.

"Fuck," I breathe.

Bella sighs heavily beneath me. Her breath is fruity, intoxicating. She holds my head in her hands. She grabs at the hairs on the nape of my neck, and I want my lips on her. Every-fucking-where.

My attempt at smooth goes out the window.

I fumble with a button. Then two. And when I get to three, she grabs my hand.

"Are you sure?" she asks.

I swallow. Am I sure?

Christ. I know I'm scared. I'm scared of God. Of not going for this with Bella. Scared I'm not going to be good enough for her.

As for sure, though, I've never been more sure of anything.

"Yeah. I am. Do you want me to -" I nod toward her chest.

"God, yes," she sighs.

I unbutton another button as I stare down at her. Then another.

Her breathing is quick, heavy. Sexy.

When I get to the last, I push the shirt away from her and look down at the beautiful woman I have in my arms.

I cup her breast and enjoy the way it feels in my hand.

I glance at Bella. She's got her lip between her teeth, watching me. Waiting.

"You are so fucking gorgeous." I tuck some hair behind her ear. "Inside." My eyes dip. "Outside."

She pulls my head to hers and we kiss again. Her breast in my hand, her leg around my waist. It's consuming, and I feel like I need to kiss every square inch of her. Some places more than others.

My lips skim along her neck, then her collarbone. I think she likes it. I move down further to the dip between her breasts. She arches again for me there.

Finally, I work up the courage to take her nipple into my mouth.

She moans a little. It's subtle, like she wants more. So I suck. And she does it again, slightly louder this time.

I try biting just a little and fuck... Okay, she likes biting. I try alternating - sucking then biting, and there's no doubt how she feels.

"Christ," she whispers. I move to her other breast and try the same things there until Bella's squirming below me, tense, tightening her legs. I pull her in for more. Only when I do, I lose my balance and the two of us fall onto the floor. Bella topples onto me with a scream, followed by a laugh.

Maybe it's divine intervention. Maybe I'm just drunk. Maybe I'm not sure which way is up.

My head spins and I hold onto Bella's hips like it's going to stabilize me. Instead, the two of us are spinning together.

She's laughing, tits shaking. Tears are in her eyes as she looks down at me.

"Charlie definitely got me trashed. Fuck."

She holds her shirt closed as she helps me sit up and lean back against the couch. Then she straddles my lap, smiling and shaking her head.

"I wish I had some aspirin. You're gonna need it."

"Probably deserve it. I should have known better than to follow bourbon with rum."

I reach for her flannel again, but Bella puts her hand over mine to stop me.

"I don't want to take advantage of you," she tells me.

What? "You're taking advantage of me?"

"Not like this. Not with you. Okay? I want us both to remember everything. You're too-"

"- much of a priest. No, yeah, I get it." I straighten myself up.

She slides her hand under my chin and tips my face up to hers. "You're too important to me, Edward."

And fuck, she's right.

She's too important. This is too important.

I can't possibly show her how much she means to me when I'm blitzed out of my fucking mind.

"Do you want me to go?"

"No. But if you decided to, um, you know, with me." She nods toward the bed. "I don't want it to be something you'd regret. I couldn't handle that. So maybe we could take fuck back off the table for now. Is that too much to ask?"

I let out a half chuckle and rub my face, wishing I could think straight.

"Deal. Yeah. I'm… fuck, Bella. I didn't mean to..." Shit.

"Hey, it's okay." She leans down and places a feather light kiss on my lips, then leans her forehead against mine. "I'm just glad I get to have you all to myself for a while."

"And if it does happen?" I squeeze her hips. "Maybe we won't call it fucking. Okay?"

Bella glances down. She seems like she might be holding her breath. Or… praying? Then she looks back up at me and gives me a half smile as she shakes her head.

"Let's get you out of this. You'll probably be more comfortable." She pulls off my collar like she's been doing it for years. When she leans to place it on the end table, she's so careful with it. So reverent. And yet, her shirt falls open and I catch the slightest glimpse of her breasts and… Fuck. I have a million emotions running through me.

She sits back on my lap, then starting at the topmost button, she works her way down my clerical shirt.

When she has it open, she stops and stares at my chest. She closes her eyes and smiles like she's trying not to laugh. "America's ass, Edward? Really?"

I peek at the Steve Rogers graphic on my shirt. "I mean… he's no Tony Stark… but… you like him." I look back up at her. "Right?"

"Not as much as I like you, you dork." She kisses behind my ear as she pushes the shirt from my shoulders and works it down my arms.

Her breasts press against me.

"I thought you said we weren't -"

"We're not."

"It kinda feels like we are." I slide my hands from her hips to her waist. It pushes the edges of the flannel apart and... Christ. I love seeing her on top of me like this. I love feeling her on top of me like this.

She pulls her top closed again and buttons one button to hold it that way.

Then she cradles my face in her hand and raises an eyebrow. "You hungry?"

xXxXx

As the night stretches and the sky fades, Bella and I sit outside, bundled in blankets and pillows on a chaise overlooking the ocean. An electric fire flickers in the fire pit as I finish off the last of the frozen pizza. It was a valiant attempt to soak up the alcohol in my gut.

She's snuggled up into my side, hogging most of the blanket. Not that I care. I'm running pretty hot.

"I didn't have anything else to heat up. Sorry."

"Are you kidding me? This is perfect." I pop the last bite into my mouth and wrap an arm around her then kiss the top of her head. "Thank you."

"Any time."

She kisses my arm then wriggles a little - just a tiny bit further away from me. Enough for me to feel the loss of her body next to mine.

Waves crash somewhere out in the dark of night. It's calming. And romantic. And I feel like priesthood is a million miles away.

"Los Angeles is supposed to be this fantasyland. But it'll never be as pretty as this."

I watch her tuck some hair behind her ear. "Never."

She lays her head in my lap as she looks out over the water. "It's like we're on the edge of something."

My gaze moves from the black waves to Bella. "I know."

I twine our fingers together and pull her knuckles up to my lips, letting our hands rest against my chest afterward.

I yawn. I'm fucking tired. But I feel satisfied. Alive.

"When do you need to go?" she asks.

In my head, I'm thinking never. "I don't know."

"Stay a little longer?"

"As long as you want." If she asked me to stay forever, I would.

Away from St. Mary's. Away from the Catholic church. God even.

It sounds sacrilegious but feels pretty divine.

"Ask me anything?" I suggest as we lay there quiet and comfortable.

"Anything," she agrees, like it's the easiest thing in the world. Just a couple days ago, I don't think she would have given me a straight answer about what she ate for breakfast.

"Are you gonna sing for me tonight?"

I feel tension in her limbs, but it's momentary. She recovers quickly. "I'm still waiting on the juicy story, buddy. We had a deal."

"Kate Denali is not only a juicy story, she's the only juicy story. So you already know all of my juicy stories."

She rolls onto her back and smiles up at me. "Then no singing, I guess."

I slip my hands under the edge of her flannel and over her ribs where there's all that space for those future important dates - where I know she's ticklish. Her eyes fly open. "You wouldn't."

"I would. And I will," I warn her, but I'm only half joking. I just want to see that smile.

But then something happens. She gazes up at me, and she smiles like that anyway. She didn't need dinner and dancing, she didn't need a corny joke, she didn't need to be stripped or tickled. She only needed to sit here with her head in my lap. With me.

She takes my hand in hers and tucks it in between our bodies.

"I don't need to know about Kate," she says, inspecting our hands before peeking up at me. "Tell me about Beethoven. I studied his stuff in music theory. What about you?"

It sends a jolt of long-stifled bitterness through my body.

Shit.

Beethoven.

I fucking forgot about him.

I close my eyes for a minute. Being a priest was supposed to put distance between me and my past, not lay it out like an open book.

I listen to waves out in the distance and mull over memories of my dad. "He was such a dick."

"Beethoven? You mean after he went deaf?"

I laugh. "No, he was surprisingly cool. My dad was…" I wave a hand at absolutely nothing but leave it at that.

She pushes away some hair that's fallen over my forehead. "Really? That's all you're gonna give me?"

She's right. I don't want to talk about him. But how can I expect her to trust me, to open up to me, if I'm not willing to do the same? This isn't about being a priest. It's about being with her, person to person. Man to woman. Me and the most important person in my world.

So I take a deep, drunken, cleansing breath and take a leap of faith.

"When I was a kid, he'd come home in a bad mood, it was smartest to stay out of his way. I was pretty good at it. A lot of the time, Mom was either too drunk or too bitter to avoid him."

Her lips part. She puts a hand against my cheek. "Did he hurt you?"

He hasn't. Not for a long time.

"Sometimes. Not always. It was a game I'd play, finding ways to distract Dad enough to avoid his wrath." I laugh. Kind of.

"That's a shitty game to have to play with your dad. I don't think I like him. Not at all."

This is why I don't like talking about him - that look on Bella's face. I can't take it. I don't want to spend tonight discussing all the ways my dad was able to make me feel incompetent.

"Not many people did," I breathe.

"When I asked about Beethoven, I didn't mean to… For me, Beethoven's loud and proud, even when he couldn't hear what he was making. It's how I always wanted to be."

"It is how you are. That was my exact thought at dinner, as a matter of fact." It's one of the many things I love about her.

"Fake it 'til you make it. When I was a kid I was just scared."

"I was scared too," I admit. "After dinner they'd get into it. It got loud and I'd grab headphones and put in the loudest music I could find. Mom didn't listen to the 'devil's music'. So I used -"

"Beethoven," Bella says with me.

"He was my substitute for teen angst music." I try to smile.

"I have so much to teach you. You skipped some good stuff. I mean, Nirvana would have definitely done the trick."

"Speaking of which…" I nudge her with my elbow.

"You want me to play you some Nirvana?"

"I'd rather hear my hymn."

She covers her face with the blanket. "I can't sing when you're staring at me like that."

I chuckle quietly. "You sing in front of thousands of people."

"But this is different. They don't know me."

"Fair is fair, Bella. I gave you a juicy story." She lets me pull the comforter away from her face.

"You gave me so much more than that. You have no freakin' idea."

I'm not sure what she could possibly think I've given her other than stories about a shitty childhood.

"You're deflecting," I tell her.

"Close your eyes?" she asks.

"Really?" She's not serious.

"Please close your eyes." Bella groans and tries to cover my eyes with her hands.

I swat them away, but I'm not really trying.

She's laughing as she sits up, still trying to hold her hands over my eyes. It's adorable and ridiculous, and I wrap my arms around her to pull her into my lap. She shrieks and squirms and finally settles in between my legs. My arms stay where they are and she leans against my chest.

"You still have to close your eyes," she tells me.

I don't think I'll ever be able to say no to her.

So I lean my head back and shut them.

"They're closed. Promise."

The hymn we've both known since we were kids starts to rise and fall with the sound of the waves. Her voice is soft at first, in time with her breath. Or mine. I can't tell.

Adoro te devote, latens Deitas

I pull her body closer. She shudders, then relaxes. Her voice rises, then pauses as she takes a breath. She shifts in front of me and, when I open my eyes, she's gazing at me with complete devotion. I brush my lips against hers and the kiss builds slowly, sweetly. Our bodies tangle.

"Do you want to hear this or not?" she asks.

"Honestly, I'm torn."

She giggles, then turns back to face the water. "Close your eyes."

I kiss the top of her head and pull her close.

On the cross was veiled

Thy Godhead's splendor,

here Thy manhood lies hidden too

She switches back to Latin. The words are out of order now. Weaving into the sea and the breeze, they turn hot and suggestive.

My body shivers with every verse. Her voice, the one that's been inside my dreams for the past two weeks, is exploding into the night around us. She quietly sings about how much she wants me. As much as I want her. Her voice fades with the waves, as I fade into sleep.

xXxXx

Fuck.

My head is killing me. My mouth is dry. I'm seriously regretting that last shot at the bar last night. I barely remember how I got here. I blink my eyes open and see the sun rising over the water, and feel the warmth of Bella's body against me on the balcony of her cottage. I'm a hundred percent okay with all of it.

I peek down at her, sleeping soundly against my chest, and I brush a few stray hairs out of her face. Her flannel is half open, not entirely covering her breasts. I pull it closed as bits and pieces of last night come back to me.

The feel of her nipples in my mouth. The way she arched into my touch. The way we fell on the floor. Christ. The sound of her voice when she sang to me. The way it crossed over into my dreams.

Then she snorts in her sleep and I laugh.

My body shakes, jostling her awake.

She looks up at me.

"Hi." My voice is gruff. I'm groggy, to say the least, but I'm still grinning.

"The look, Edward? Really? This early in the morning?"

What the fuck ever, she's giving me the smile. The two of us just stare at each other like idiots until she squints out at the sun as it comes up over the waves.

"You're up really early," she says.

"Who could sleep through you snoring?"

"I do not snore."

"Very loudly, too. I'm surprised anyone in this neighborhood got any sleep last night."

Her eyes flash. "You're a liar."

I hold my free hand up. "God's honest truth."

"Well, I won't argue with God, because He -" she stops.

"Because He... what?" I ask.

At first she looks out over the ocean, but then she looks back into my eyes. "Because He brought me to you."

I'm not sure if I'm feeling lightheaded because of what she just said or because I'm still buzzed.

"Be careful, Bella. You're acknowledging God's existence. Next thing you know, you'll admit to praying. Again."

"I never said -"

I stop the argument with a kiss.

Under the blanket, Bella's hand slides over my chest. She straddles me, much like last night on the floor of her living room.

My hands move under the flannel. Then she stops and asks me, "Are you sober?"

I laugh. "I'm not entirely sure, to be honest." Then I check my watch. Shit. I was supposed to meet Jasper for breakfast.

"But I do have to go soon. I have confession today, and fuck… the rehearsal, the rehearsal dinner." My head pounds. "And a hangover from hell."

Thanks Charlie.

"I don't want to rush this," she says.

And neither do I.

Her words hang in the air between us, because what we want doesn't exactly matter.

She leaves on Sunday.