Chapter 4 ~ Clean Flavor

EDWARD

At oh five hundred hours, I was already taking a morning run.

It felt good to breathe in the clean air and fresh scents as I willed the red wine headache from the previous night to go away.

It was working.

By oh six thirty, I’d showered, shaved and started the coffee while I went to put some clean clothes on.

I’d also scared the bejeezus out of Alice, who showed up at, roughly, oh seven hundred to start taking inventory of the grounds and see what needed to be done for the day.

I chuckled, assuming it would take some getting used to, for her, seeing someone else up and around at the same time of day she was and I hoped grocery shopping was on that list of things to do.

She scowled; inching passed me in the hallway leading to the back stair case, like I had some sort of disease or something.

You’d think she’d never seen a man in nothing but a towel before.

Hell, maybe she hadn’t.

I didn’t allow myself to think about it, too much.

“Morning, Alice,” I teased, winking at her, smirking a little as well but all she had for me, was a bit of a head nod and some mumblings that I couldn’t exactly translate.

She evaporated into the house somewhere and I finished changing and threw on my baseball cap.

I realized when I did it, I’d had that thing since Middle School, when I played junior league with Emmett.

It was in the perfect shape to make a guy feel somewhat comfortable with life when he put it on.

Not too flimsy, not too stiff.

And one hundred percent happy memories.

For the most part, anyway.

I pulled the door to my old room slash renovated into a guest room’s closet door to hang some things up and saw my old baseball bat, leaning against the corner, in the back, behind all the clear bins that most of my old things had been stuffed into.

I pulled it out and waved it in my hands a little, feeling it out.

I might have even grinned at it.

It was kinda small compared to how it had felt when I’d played, all those years ago and I found it a little funny, thinking, most things around the old homestead were.

Small in comparison, that is.

Then again, some things weren’t.

Some things felt so much larger.

I set the bat down and got myself some coffee, then headed out to the vines.

Goddamn sun.

As unlikely as it had seemed when I was there, I never wished so badly that I was back in Georgia as when I was pulling weeds out in the vines of my dad’s property.

Sure, the humidity wasn’t there but the heat.

Jesus.

It was beating down already and I hadn’t brought water out, like an idiot so I just knew I was gonna be dehydrated if I didn’t take a break soon.

Not to mention the fucking mealybugs.

This was not going to be an easy or enjoyable task.

But, I’d realized, after I had drunkenly spoken with my commanding the night before, that the sooner I got started on cleaning the place up, the faster I’d be able to sell my dad’s vineyard.

And the quicker I could get back to work.

So I’d decided to start on just that.

With practically zero staff to help out.

I made a note to myself to inquire with Alice about what was up with that situation, even though I knew I’d probably just get her current favorite retort of, “not my story to tell, Edward,” in response.

Dramatic, much?

Not only were the double whammy sun and bug situation killing me but I had…all the wrong clothes on for cleaning up my dad’s crops, which meant I was bitten, scratched, scathed and dehydrated like there was no tomorrow.

I’d apparently forgotten what type of dress code winery working required.

The only God send was my baseball cap.  It at least offered a tiny bit of shade out in the middle of the shade less crop.

It was roughly midday when I caught a glimpse of the cloud of dust traveling up our entranceway and looked up to see who had somehow miraculously found themselves in the Cullen Vineyard’s neck of the woods.

"Stupid…"

I shook my head as I let the trash bag that was nearly full of weeds drop down onto the ground and stood up, pushing the dirt off of my jeans and rearranging my hat to wipe the sweat away.

I really needed to remember to bring water out with me the next time.

“What the fuck…”

If I hadn't already seen the damn thing comin', I'd have definitely heard it, eventually.

The clankety old truck made a ton of noise as it sputtered down the road off of my property and after enjoying the peace and quiet all morning, it was annoying the absolute shit outta me.

It was also making a mess of dust fly up and over the vines, to boot.

Like they needed any help in the department of sucking complete ass.

The truck back fired and I wondered why anyone would be driving anywhere near our place.

At that time of day.

When they knew I was in town.

I walked up toward the drive way where I could hear the engine choke and then finally, it died.

Awesome.

Another broken down tourist that's gonna wanna use the phone, or better yet…stay overnight.

Definitely not happening…they can get a cab.

I sighed but don't really know why I worried, it wasn't like they’d last passed the first few minutes of getting the hint that I don't exactly do friendly, idle, needless conversations where people wanna know how the goddamn weather is…when really, they could just look upward and see for themselves.

Same as it ever was, that time of year, in Napa.

Sunny, no clouds, impossible heat.

Just as well.

I don’t really do hospitable anyway.

Most people I grew up with around the area who were…hospitable like were usually the ones talking shit behind your back anyway and all those…polite people?  Well I can guarantee they aren’t so nice, once you get them outta their Sunday bests and pantyhose.

That’s personal experience speaking, by the way.

Hell.

At least I’m real.

At least I don’t put on a fake persona and frolic around like I give a shit.

I spit as I approached the ugly piece of metal that was now only taking up space on my family’s property and was making my eyes hurt at an increasing rate the more I looked at it.

"You uh…you lost or something?" I asked as the door swung open and feet found their way to the ground.

And I recognized them…pretty much right away.

Oh, boy.

Once they landed, she walked around from behind the truck's door and my eyes couldn’t help but follow the path of skin that started at her sling back sandal covered toes, up her freshly shaven calves, to the knees and then, the upper thighs where finally…fucking finally covered with a tiny, Daisy Duke kinda piece of material that was clearly cut too short because I was fairly certain, if I’d taken a gander from behind…a cheek or two would have been showing.

Holy fucking land of Dixie Hell.

I swallowed.

“Man…it’s hot out here,” she said, waving a cardboard piece of something at her face as she looked around at my father’s land.

Not that there was much to see.

And not that I noticed, but her hair was swept up into a high pony tail that day, so her neck was…exposed, hidden only by a few stray feminine hairs that dangled, tickling her skin.

Sweat was dripping from her temples and my lips flicked out a tad as I watched it slide down her jaw line, dipping into the valley of her chest, disappearing behind the spaghetti strap tank top that came to a “V” just between her breasts.

I ignored the appreciation I was feeling for her very womanly curves and…other things.

When my eyes met hers again, she cleared her throat a little and said, “I um…” but then she stopped, hypnotized by something and I found myself wondering just exactly what was going on in that chestnut hair colored head of hers and then narrowed my eyes at her and she bent into the truck and brought something out, handing it out to me.

“I um…” she said again.

I cocked an eyebrow at her, refusing to acknowledge she was even trying to hand me something.

“You said that already.”

The way I said it, for most people, would have been a distinct sign that it was a good time to retreat but this girl.

Apparently, she didn’t shy away too easily.

“I brought you a pie.”

And the way she said it, I couldn’t help but laugh at her. “Pie.”

“Yeah, I…am, really sorry about that remark I made yesterday…”

“Remark?”

I knew what she was talking about, of course, and she was kinda cute, all, embarrassed and clearly sorry about what she’d said but this was way more fun than just accepting her apology.

Right away, anyway.

“You know,” she shoved the sweet smelling ecstasy at me further. “About the bommmmmb…and the people serving our counnnnntry?”

She sang it, and I couldn’t wipe the grin off of my face, again.

I also took the pie.

Then the awkward silence followed.

On her end, probably waiting for me to invite her in, or something.

On my end, waiting for her to leave.

I smiled, uncomfortably and said, “So, you bake.”

It was a lame attempt at that small talk I was referring to earlier. 

She hadn’t really left me with any other option.

“Sort of,” she said and then seemed to correct herself. “I mean I’m not an expert or anything…but…”

I took a whiff and then checked my watch, ‘cause I was currently planning on skipping lunch all of a sudden, when I realized what her apology had meant and I smiled a little.

“You were asking about me,” I teased, because clearly she had if she knew I was part of the good old U.S. of A’s Army.

And the pink in her cheeks answered for her but she spoke anyway.

“Well, I mean,” she shook her head and waved a hand, nervously and I made note for the second time that day that she was kinda cute when she was uncomfortable. “Emmett was telling me…”

Uh huh.

“Right, well, then you know you probably shouldn’t be out here…visiting…and…” I held the pie up.  “Bringing me pie.”

This earned me a returned smile and even a little bit of lip nibbling.

The lip nibbling was even better than the blushing.

“Emmett doesn’t tell me what to do,” she said finally.  And then added, “Besides, I like to form my own opinions of people.”

Interesting.

“Really.”

“Yes,” she said through her smile and I couldn’t seem to control my facial expressions, as I became completely and utterly confused by this woman.

I mean, I knew nothing about her, didn’t really want to and yet, despite her relationship to Emmet McCarty, she actually seemed…logical and almost pleasant to talk to.

“So,” I hesitated a little, holding on to my newly acquired pie, not really sure I wanted the answer to my question. “What’s your…official opinion, then?” I asked.

Little miss Daisy Duke twisted her mouth a little and then looked me straight in the eyes, breathed in and told me, “I think you’re not as tough as people make you out to be.”

Then she walked passed me, up toward the house and I thought, almost out loud, what the fuck just happened?

I stood there for a minute or two, like an idiot before I turned to follow her up.

What choice did I have?

Her truck was broken, she’d brought me pie and…yeah, ass cheeks were definitely showing.

“So,” I said, putting the pie down onto the counter, taking in the embarrassing state that the house was in again.

One of the reasons that I wasn’t exactly up for visitors.

“Do you have a phone I could use?” she asked, putting me out of the misery of trying to find more small talk.

“Nope,” I said, almost immediately.

It wasn’t exactly a lie, I really didn’t have my cell phone on me.

“No phone?”

“No, don’ you…?”

She shook her head. “No, I…” she huffed out.  “I left it at the Hale’s...I thought I’d be right back.”

So Emmett was staying with Rosalie.

Another interesting tid bit of information.

Before I could make any suggestions, she asked, skeptically, “You don’t have a LAN line?”

“Nope.”

And that, really wasn’t a lie.  Carlisle hadn’t had one since I was about ten.  He just didn’t think we needed it.

 “At all?”

“Nope.”

“Well,” now she seemed like she was panicking.  “Can I maybe get a ride back to…”

“Definitely no.”

“No….?” And with that question, I was quite amused because she had this look of…like she wanted to deck me for cutting her off.  Or…something.

“No car,” I explained in as few words as possible.

“Well, then how do you get around?”

“Walk.”

“You…walk?  All the way into town?”

“Only when I have to.”

“That’s….five miles, at least…”

“I’ve walked further.”

She let out this huffing sound and I truly wanted to laugh.

She really was cute.

And maybe, I should stop using words like cute on a twenty something year old woman.

Ya think?

“You know, I don’t even think we’ve been properly introduced?  I mean, other than the pie and welcome center, but I really don’t count rudely declining my dinner invitation an introduction.”

“Bella, Bella Swan…” she pretended I hadn’t said that last part and I perplexed at the name she’d given me.  Beautiful Swan.

“I’m Edward…Cullen.”

I held a hand out to her.

That she also ignored.

She was too busy thinking about her options.

“What am I supposed to do? I have to get back, I can’t just…stay here.”

Ya got that right.

“Well…” I let a sigh go as I looked outside through the kitchen window.  “I could take a look at it, but I really gotta get some shit done out in the vines before I can have play time, so if you wanna just…”

Go to a neighbor and bother them for the day?

She suddenly got all excited like she’d just discovered the world’s first great idea. “I could help you, I mean…it could be my payment for helping with the truck.”

“Where did you get that hunk of junk, anyway?” I asked her, ignoring the offer to assist with the vines, becoming more and more enamored with her infectious smiles and…incessantly pleasant attitude.

“I’m just borrowing it…it’s Emmett’s girlfirend’s father’s…friend’s…or…something.”

I chuckled loud at that one.

“That’s not confusing at all.”

“So, what do you think?” she asked, blowing off my sarcasm.

“About?”

“Me…helping you…with you vines…or….you know, whatever you need, I could…clean your kitchen up…or…”

I held a hand up to that.

“Noooooo…way…Alice would skin us both alive if she caught us….cleaning in here.”

“You…have a maid?” she asked, not believing it for a second and I jumped up out of my seat.

“Shit.”

Looking around to make sure Alice wasn’t in ear shot, I covered Bella’s mouth as I pulled her into me closely in a protective kinda way.

“Don’t…say…the M word,” I whispered. “It’s worse than cleaning.”

And then I felt her whole body shaking from laughter in my arms and heard the muffled giggles sounding through my fingers.

And I suddenly became…highly aware that she wasn’t wearing all those clothes she wasn’t wearing.

So I removed my hand from her mouth and stepped away but tried to play it off like that game was over as she straightened herself up.

“She’s my dad’s grounds keeper, she’s been with him a long time…does a lot of shit…and she really,” I cleared my throat. “really…doesn’t like being called a maid.”

Bella was still smiling, despite my sudden stand offishness and told me, “Well then, that settles it, I’ll come help with your vines.”

I eyed her up and down a minute and then suggested, “Then…you…might wanna go change into something else.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because you’re not…dressed for vine pruning.”

Wasn’t it obvious?

“It’s hot.”

“Yeah, but…”

“I think I’ll stay dressed the way I am, thanks.”

Stubborn.

Great.

“Okay then,” I said, then grabbed a couple of bottles of water out of the pantry and she followed me out to where I’d left off when she showed up.

It wasn’t a very productive after noon, in my opinion.

When I wasn’t shoo’ing bugs away from my new friend, the Daisy Duke of Martha Stewarts, I was scolding myself for staring at her ass too much and when she wasn’t talking, she was humming…or, laughing at nothing…or…whatever entailed making some sort of noise and half the time I wanted to tell her to fuck off.

The other half I wanted to fuck her.

But since that wasn’t an option…

She slapped at her leg and muttered, “Dammit,” for the umpteenth time and I advised her, “I told you, you shoulda changed.”

She didn’t see the grin on my face as I said it, though.

“You could have been a little more specific about why,” she said, pushing me off balance and I stood up.

“You wanna…get something to eat?” I finally asked, rubbing a hand over my face, realizing nothing was gonna get done and that I was famished, so she probably was, too.

“That sounds fantastic,” she said and I wondered how she could spend an entire, hot as hell afternoon pulling weeds and still maintain the perky personality that she produced.

I debated whether or not it was fake.

Whether she was just continuing with the façade so I’d work on her truck, but…honestly, I didn’t really care, either way, her smile was nice.

Lunch…or rather, supper…was…sooooo-ho-ho gooooood.

Alice had managed to get groceries and vacuum and I was somewhat grateful as I scarfed down the last of my Dagwood type sandwich, chasing it with another couple of waters.

The food related, idle chit chat with Bella wasn’t so bad, either, in all honesty.

We were laughing about the ins and outs of how fat is absorbed through inhaling roast beef and on our second pieces of pie when a booming knock at the door made Bella jump and me, well, okay I ignored it.

I heard Alice letting someone in before I’d had the chance to tell her to ignore it as well and then…

The party was over.

Because there stood Emmett McCarty at the kitchen doorway, fuming and huffing like I’d taken his G.I. Joe doll away for the first time.

I wasn’t quite finished chewing when he began glaring at me, so I held my plate up to him and said, “Pie?”

“Rose was worried sick, Bells,” he said, not taking his eyes off of me.

I rolled my own and shrugged.

Guess he didn’t want pie.

“Emmett, hey…I was…helping Edward…the truck broke down…and…”

“Piece of shit vehicle to give the woman, if ya ask me,” I mumbled.

She eyed me, then continued with her explanation. “And then Edward needed help, and he said he’d look at the truck…”

“If you helped him?” he cut in, pissed off and I didn’t bother defending myself even though that was not how it went down.

“He doesn’t know shit about cars…”

“Hey, now,” I said, because that part I did feel the need to defend. “I’m not useless…I know things.”

And he snorted.  “Yeah, like how to break ‘em.”

I did a kind of semi-laugh-snort-fuck you gesture and then motioned for Bella to ‘go on’.

“No, he…” she took a breath. “Emmett, I volunteered the help, he needed it, and then he was going to help me with the truck and…”

Then Emmett held up a piece of metal, silencing his cousin and showing me up all at the same time and said, “Well, I figured you broke down, went into town and got the part it probably needed.  It’ll only take a minute.”

“That took all day?” I asked snidely and he gave me the look.

The one that said, I’m only talking to you right now because I have to, and said, “I had shit to do, Edward.”

“More important shit then rescuing a stranded woman in the throes of the town fuck up?”

Ha!

Burn!

I smirked at him when he didn’t answer me and then he decided to cease with the interaction all together, telling Bella he’d only be a minute and heading off to fix her engine for her.

I watched him walk out of the house, taking note of the disgrace it was as he did, then I scratched at the back of my neck, awkwardly, and started gathering up the trash from our food frenzy and Bella asked, “You two don’t get along too well, do you?”

“What was your first clue?”

Because I was back to bitter and bent and every other angry word you could think of.

And because I felt like a complete idiot for thinking I could make anything even remotely resembling something like a friend in this fucking shit hole.

After a minute or two of getting a clue that Edward the conversationalist was no longer in the building, Bella got up.

“Well, thanks for lunch,” she said quietly and turned to go.

Then, because I just couldn’t quite bring myself to be a complete douche, I finally said, “Thanks for the pie and…the help,” and she stopped to say something else but buy then, I was half way down the hall, ready for a shower and something to drink.

Something from my father’s favorites.

Once I was done cleaning up, I checked the front drive and noticed the truck was gone, along with Emmett’s Jeep that I’d assumed he’d driven over.

Deciding I was glad she was gone but admitting I was hugely lame at lying even to myself, I called for Alice to see if she was still around but there was no answer, so I headed down stairs, to dad’s private stash of wines, again.

As I stared at them, floods of memories rushed into my head and I made note that I should probably head back to the hospital the next day to see how he was doing…maybe get an update from his doctor, sign some papers for post hospital visit care.

Maybe stab myself in the head with an ice pick...

I breathed out, letting the air bubble between my cheeks as I looked them all over, choosing one particularly old time favorite of mine from back in the day.

“Think we’ll go with white, tonight.”




A/N:  A clean flavor in wine refers to a positive trait indicating a simple, direct flavor without serious flaws