Chapter 8: Once Upon a Sunday

Chapter 8: Once Upon a Sunday

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After a few more moments of silence, the sound of the storyteller’s voice in the distance makes the children giggle, and I smile in the direction of the commotion.

“Look, I’m sorry about Friday.” Edward says suddenly. I guess he likes to cut to the chase.

I turn to find him looking down, tracing the grain of the wooden tabletop. I’m momentarily mesmerized by the length and elegance of his fingers, the veins appearing and disappearing with each movement. 

“You have nothing to apologize for. I’m the one with the word vomit, remember?” I reply, my voice small and foreign-sounding as I continue to stare at his hand.

Those fingers were excellent that night. I can only imagine what else they’re good at.

He smiles softly. “No. I’m the one who should’ve explained myself better. If I wasn’t so paranoid I wouldn’t have invited you for a formal parent-teacher meeting just so I could see you.”

Holy shit. Time to be brave, Bella.

“Maybe I wanted to see you too,” I say under my breath.

He looks up at me through his lashes-- his impossibly long lashes-- as one side of his mouth lifts into the grin that makes me want to climb over the table and solder my lips to his.

“So... you don’t regret anything from that night?” he asks carefully, waiting for my response.

“Are you kidding?” I laugh, shaking my head. “The only thing I regret is not giving you my number...”

His baritone laugh fills our space, making me look up and smile. His head tips back and I can see the scruff that shadows his exquisite jawline and his Adam’s apple...

And Yeah, I kinda wanna suck on it.

And other things.

But one step at a time, please.

As his laugh winds down, his emerald eyes lock with mine.

“I’m surprised you haven’t asked me about Bree.”

“Oh. Yeah, um...” That question catches me off guard. I flounder, looking for a way to explain my insider info.

“Word gets around, right?” Edward smiles knowingly.

I cringe. “Sorry. It kind of came up in conversation with Angela. The only thing she knew is that you were a widower. I’m really sorry about your wife.”

He smiles gently, lowering his head and blinking slowly. “Thanks. It’s been a long time though. Bree doesn’t have any memory of her other than what I’ve told her, so don’t worry,” he explains, looking up at me once again.

We continue chatting about less consequential things, the mood around us lifting and I feel more relaxed after a while. This feels natural, like we do this all the time.

It seems like only minutes, but probably a little more before we hear the clapping of little hands signaling the end of story time; seconds later, our respective children run over to our table.

“Mommy, that was so much fun!” Garrett squeals, latching onto my arm. “Bree says they do story time every Sunday! Can we come every Sunday? Please, please pleeease?!” He’s literally bouncing up and down while Bree’s familiar green eyes shine as she smiles, front teeth missing, of course.

“We’ll see, okay? Maybe we can plan to visit once in a while, whaddaya say?” I offer, tousling his hair.

Edward laughs and chimes in. “We’re pretty much here almost every Sunday, so maybe we’ll be able to hang out too...” 

His eyes are on me while his brow arches in silent request. Was he asking, or suggesting? 

He wants to hang out. Is that code for I wanna have sex?

Maybe?

Wishful thinking?

Sigh. Fine. It’s not like he can jump me in the children’s section of the bookstore.

That would be bad. In a fuck yeah kind of way.

But still. 

I’m unable to form words because he’s looking at me like my answer determines if he gets to go to Disneyworld if he’s a good boy.

I bet he’s a very bad, bad, boy.

Okay, I just need to stop.

The first step is admitting I have a problem, I know.

I simply nod and smile timidly. His relief is evident in his smirk. 

“Great!” Garrett exclaims as he and Bree high-five each other.

“Hey Bree, why don’t you take Garrett to help you pick out a book to take home? We’re leaving in a few,” Edward tells his daughter. “And stay where I can see you, please.”

“Okay, Daddy,” Bree answers sweetly. She’s really quite adorable.

“Yeah, G, you can pick one out too,” I add.

The kids’ are ecstatic as they step a few feet away to browse the selections.

Edward turns back to me and smiles.

“I’m having a difficult time here...” He says softly. I tense. What does he mean?

“What do you mean?”

“I’m just trying to figure out how I should proceed from here. If I should throw caution to the wind and ask you out or not.” His voice. It sends warmth through my body... in all the right places.

“Why wouldn’t you?” I ask. He pauses, rubbing his fingers over his glorious stubble—a gesture I will now add to my spank bank. Imagine how that would feel down...

“I just don’t know if this thing we’re dancing around is something you’d want, or if it’s even feasible.” He sounds unsure, his voice down to an almost-whisper.

“Feasible?”

“I mean, I’m Garrett’s teacher.” He lets the last word hang, staring at me like he’s allowing it to absorb.

“Yeah...”

Okay, so not my most articulate response.

“But you’re also sexy as hell and I’d really like to see you again,” he rushes, and I can even hear the tiniest of gruffness at the end there. Jebus Crisp, this guy.

“I’d like to see you again too,” I manage to say.

“Have dinner with me.”

“Okay.”

“I mean, it’s just dinner, right? Everyone has dinner...” he muses, almost to himself.

“Right. Wait, are you worried?”

“Worried?” He looks worried.

“Yeah. I don’t want to feel like we have to sneak around, but if you think this might be an issue with the school... geez, I don’t even know how that works...”

“No. I’m not worried about the school. I’m allowed to see whoever I want to see, Bella.”

“Oh, okay. Good.”

“But I don’t know if you’re concerned about what other people might say...”

“I could give a shit about what other people say.”

Seriously, what do I care. They’re already talking about my failed marriage. It really can’t get any worse, right?

He laughs. “Good. So, I guess I’ll call you?”

“Yeah... sounds good.” I offer him a smile.

Several seconds of silence and staring pass before I come to my senses and ask for his phone. He hands it over for me to save my number into it and call myself.

“There. Now I know it’s you when you call.”

“Oh, trust me you’ll know when it’s me,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. I can tell he’s trying to be funny, more than suggestive.

He’s so cheesy. I love it.

“Cocky, are we?”

“Nah. Just confident.” There’s that stupid smirk again. Those lips. 

Now he’s being suggestive. Damn him. 

I scoff before realizing I probably need to tell him a little more about my situation before our date.

“Edward, I really do want to get to know you more, but I think you should know that I’ve only recently finalized my divorce. I’m kind of new at all this, so...”

“Oh, I know...” he answers absentmindedly.

Huh? 

“Wait, what? You know?” I ask as our kids return and Bree pulls Edward’s hand to leave. He gives me that sexy grin again, walking backwards, never taking his eyes off me.

“Word gets around.”

I stare in shock, mouth hanging open, before I grin right back, shaking my head.

“See ya tomorrow morning,” he adds.

“Bye, Mr. Cullen!” Garrett shouts. Edward winks and waves before turning towards his daughter and the checkout counter.