I trust him."
That admission nearly makes me drop the plate I've been drying for the last two minutes, particularly because he sounds so damn sincere. Charlie looks equally surprised when I glance at him, once again proving that while he's not the most versed talker, the Chief is a good observer.
"Even though you two have a beef with each other?"
This time Jazz's laugh sounds a little edgy.
"That's between Edward and me. But I know that if something grave should happen, I can always turn to him and Bella, and whatever might be between us now, they'd help me. Although I'm sure I've deserved it, neither of them would give up on me. Good enough for you?"
Charlie only offers a grunt while he looks sheepish, then steers the conversation back to baseball before it can get any more awkward. I have to admit, I don't have the same kind of faith in myself that Jazz seems to have, but I can't help feel a little relieved.
Yet as the afternoon turns into evening, the very same words start to haunt me, and Bella's concerned looks tell me I'm doing a bad job trying to appear all happy and normal. It's not like anyone is paying me much attention, with it being her day, as much as she seems to squirm through everyone handing over their gifts.
She is positively speechless when she opens the envelope I hand her, containing my official present - the other one still resting in its box upstairs under the bed – and I get some approving smiles from both her and my parents at the weekend getaway at a remote resort I've organized, date to be chosen by my dearest herself. The fact that I can't do wrong in her eyes only adds to the disturbed feeling that's still gripping me from Jasper's admission, and I'm glad when hours later we're finally alone again, kitchen and living room left in a state of utter warfare.
"May I presume that this gift of yours comes with at least some ulterior motives, Edward?" Bella asks, batting her lashes coyly at me just like she has been doing before the party.
I shrug and never miss a beat in loading the dish washer, but do my best to hide the smirk that's creeping onto my face at the question.
"I hear they have a terrific spa at the resort, too, with the main house."
"Edward Anthony Cullen, if you seriously tell me you chose the 'remote, detached bungalow-style apartments' because of the spa, I'm going to be very disappointed in you!"
I flash her a grin at the air quotes she's doing between throwing used cups into a trash bag, and catch her gaze for a moment.
"I don't know, it seemed kind of useful. Afterwards, you know."
"Afterwards?" she echoes, her smile slowly gaining on intensity.
"Afterwards," I repeat, then continue stacking the plates. I don't hear her when she taps over to me, but certainly don't protest when I feel Bella's arms snake around my body as she hugs me from behind.
"Thank you. A very thoughtful gift."
Pushing the tray into the machine, I start the dish washer before I turn around in her embrace and pull her closer, placing a gentle kiss on her lips.
"You're so very welcome."
Bella laughs, a husky sound that reminds me immediately of the conversation her ringing phone interrupted before all party hell broke loose earlier.
"How long do you think will it take to rub down the counter so we can, you know, christen it?"
A look at the heap of dishes and other clutter makes my heart sink, but only briefly.
"Why don't we leave that for another day and go upstairs instead?"
For a second she looks positively hopeful but then her smile dims, and I'm not quite sure what I've done that makes her lose that radiant glow from one moment to the next.
"Sure, I'll just grab a shower, I really don't want to get the new sheets all sweaty."
Now that's a challenge if I ever heard one but she doesn't look coy, and when I don't respond immediately I see her shoulders sag momentarily.
Maybe I'm reading too much into this, but I've been doing so much second guessing these past days, it's hard to break the routine.
Again Jasper's words echo through my mind. If things were to become dire, he'd trust me to overcome my resentments. Bella has told me the very same thing, over and over again, and it takes my uncanny knack for eavesdropping to make me realize that I don't really believe her, same as I don't believe Jazz. But I want to believe them, deep down I know that to a certain degree it's been my own doubt that has kept me from moving on.
There's nothing I can do about Jazz, but Bella is a wholly different matter.
My sweet, frustrated Bella, who seems to be reconciling herself with another eve spent reading in bed and cuddling until we both fall asleep wrapped around each other.
I might be wrong, but suddenly I feel like I have to disappoint my birthday girl.
She lets out a dismal shriek when I grab her from behind, trapping her arms between our bodies while my hand in her hair wrenches her head back, baring the long line of her throat to me. I hungrily kiss the sensitive skin there before I lick a wet line up to her ear, feeling her shiver as her breath leaves her in a nearly inaudible gasp.
"You have ten minutes to clean yourself, then I want you ready for me in the playroom. Understand?"
She's nodding eagerly before I'm done talking, yanking her roots when I don't let go of her hair, but I get the drift she's doing that deliberately. When she tries to turn her head so that her face comes closer to mine I let go of her, sending her towards the stairs with the gentlest of nudges as my hands trail over her sides and ass. Not even stopping to look at me she scrambles up the steps, proving that I guessed the reason for her moodiness right.