Don't Look / No Promises

SIX

Bella

Bella hadn’t seen Rose or Alice in almost two days.

Something was wrong.

She didn’t know what, but it had never gone this long. Alice was always in dire need of rescuing from some town function and Rose always needed someone to drive her somewhere, but all had been quiet on the western front. Bella hoped Rose hadn’t gone off and gotten herself killed somewhere in a ditch or a truck or a seedy bar bathroom. She hoped Alice hadn’t been shipped off to summer camp like last year. She hoped that their plans to go to the lake tomorrow were still on, but had a feeling they probably weren’t. She drove to the ice cream shop, not sure what she’d do if she found them there without her. The place was quiet though. No Rose. No Alice. Just one of the boys who hung around with her motorcycle paramore sitting on the front step, licking cream and peaches from a waffle cone, sweating around the edges. He was big and dark and off the Rez, a little scary but smiling at her.

“Well, hey there, Birdy,” he said, winking.

“My name is Bella.”

“I know, but you’re the one, yeah? The one that jacked the Bird?” Bella shrugged. “Did you know he’s been under that thing for three full days now? Still can’t get that baby to purr.” More licking.

“That bad?” she asked.

“Worse. Gonna cost him a pretty penny to fix it.”

Bella felt a momentary stab of guilt, but tried to squash it. “What’s your name?” she asked and the guy smiled at her before he stuck out his hand. He was handsome, thick dark hair and deep set eyes. Nice big smile. Ice cream smeared on his lip.

“Jacob,” he said when she slipped her hand into his, giving her a thorough shake. “Here, have a seat.” He patted the wooden step beside him and Bella sat down. He was wearing the same vest, same patches, but his hair was long and shaggy, not slicked back. He had a tattoo of a snake on his forearm, the one holding a creamy peach waffle cone out at her.

“Want some?”

“Sure.” Bella took the cone and licked the edge while Jacob stared out over the lawn. He was nice too, not just handsome. Handing over his treat like that. Giving her a nickname. She liked this Jacob.

“What’s his name?” she asked.

“He ain’t told you his name yet?” Jacob looked at her with raised brows and she shrugged.

“We haven’t gotten there, I guess. He knows mine.”

“Edward,” Jacob said.

“Edward,” she repeated.

“Listen, take it easy on him, huh?”

“He needs it easy?”

“Yeah,” Jacob nodded, taking the cone back and licking a drip before it fell. “He plays a good asshole, but he’s soft, you know?”

“I don’t really know anything actually.” Bella shook her head.

“All I’m gonna say, sweets, is that he needs a gentle touch. And that the shop is one block that direction.” Jacob pointed. “I’ll give you twenty minutes.”

---

Edward

Edward was draining the oil when she appeared.

When her shoes appeared.

Spiky pumps patterned in roses. Sky high and peep toed. These tiny little ankles and knees hidden behind the hem of a pale pink dress. He tucked his head out from underneath the Bird, staring up at her and, good Lord way way way up there in heaven, he promised to dedicate his life and soul to eternal salvation if he could only spend the rest of all of it right there. At her feet. Her all done up pink and pretty with flowers in her hair like that. He’d try real, real hard not to be that slimeball he claimed not to be if this was the reward.

“Well, hi there, doll. Didn’t expect you here.” He grinned, pushing himself out from underneath the car and standing up alongside her. Close. Maybe too close. He might get her dirty, might smudge up against all that pink, but he didn’t care. She smelled so good, really good, like she’d rolled around in violets and peaches. Like she’s driven around with the windows rolled down and the wind rushing up from the ocean, salt and sand, but maybe he was just thinking of the other night. Of kissing her. Shoving smoke and then his tongue between her lips and fuck, he wanted to do that again.

Right now.

Bella strode around him and settled herself in the driver’s seat, all one hundred pounds of her doing nothing to threaten the jack. “Feels good to be back here,” she mused. “Miss me, baby?” she asked the Bird, caressing the steering wheel while Edward ground his teeth and shoved his hands in his pockets.

She looked good in that car.

Too good.

“Of course not,” he grumbled. “She’s in the ER because of you.”

“I heard it wasn’t going well.” She looked up at him and he shrugged.

“I’m doing what I can, but the axle is shot.”

“Shame.” She dropped her hands to the cream leather on either side of her hips. “Seems a waste of such potential.”

Oh, the potential. Talk to him about potential, why don’t you? That dress was cut high at her ribs with a full skirt that would flip right up over her waist and he could have her pinned to that seat in no time, fuck the jack. Fuck the tranny. Fuck the chips and the dents and the mangled gear box because this girl was rubbing her thighs like she was needy or something.

“How’d you know we were here?”

“Jacob. I met him at the ice cream shop.”

That fucker had skipped out on Edward nearly an hour ago, of course that’s where he’d gone. Edward muttered something nasty about Jacob under his breath and kicked the floor with the toe of his boot.

“Don’t listen to anything he says,” he grumbled.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Bella said.

“He’s full of shit. That’s why his eyes are so brown.”

“My eyes are brown,” she said and yeah, they were, but he liked hers. They were the amber of fresh, clean oil. Jacob’s were just shit. Edward rolled his eyes, trying not to stare at her.

“When I get this girl going, I’m coming to pick you up in it,” he said

“You know where I live?”

“Big house with the gate, yeah?”

Bella shook her head. “That’s Alice’s. I’m over in Westbrook.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “You followed me?”

“Sort of,” he admitted.

“What’s your definition of sort of?”

“I know your license plate.” He grinned.

“That’s my dad’s car. He’s a cop.”

Edward felt his stomach drop just a little. Shit. “A cop, huh? He got guns?”

“Lots of them.”

“He use ‘em?”

“When he needs to.”

“How’s he gonna be, when I show up?”

“I’ll do what I can, but you might want to wear your funeral clothes.” Bella pulled herself from the Bird and stepped right up in front of him, the neckline of her dress squashed up against his chest. She fingered the patch on his vest, the name stitched into the fabric, the two dates that bordered it, and looked up at him.

“Just so we’re clear, you don’t know me at all.”

“I know what your mouth tastes like,” he said.

“I know your name,” she whispered, right before she left.

Next

AN: Hadley fixes my mistakes. And talks me down off ledges. And makes me smile more than any person on earth other than my husband.