Adonis, Take the Wheel

A birthday collab for Robsmyyummy Cabanaboy
by Shellshock81 and bornonhalloween

"Then Dad sat me down and had a thirty minute conversation with me about how it's completely normal to have these types of feelings about boys. I had to walk away when he pulled his iPad out to show me how natural gay sex is."

Edward laughed as he finished cleaning his paintbrushes and packing up his supplies. "So he still thinks you're gay? Did you tell him about that Jessica chick you went out with the other night?"

"Oh, according to him, she, and every other girl I've gone out with is just an elaborate beard. The man is fucking nuts," Emmett said, zipping up his canvas bag.

Edward shrugged. "At least you'd know he'd support you if you were gay."

"I guess, but just because I'm majoring in art with my BFF doesn't mean I want to take the chocolate express to ecstasy every night."

Before Edward could tell Emmett his dad might have an easier time believing he only wanted women if he'd stop using phrases like BFF, Professor Banner interrupted.

"Boys, do you have any plans two evenings from now? I have quite the lucrative proposition for you."

Emmett held up his hand. "Look, Professor. I don't know what you thought you heard, but I swear, I love the tig ol' bitties."

Professor Banner scrunched his face up as he studied Emmett and then shook his head. "I don't know what you're talking about Emmett, but then I rarely do. I hoped you guys could do me—well, my brother-in-law—a favor. He owns a company that provides valet services for swanky private parties."

"Sounds great!" Emmett grinned. "What would we have to do, iron pants and shit?"

Edward punched him in the heart of his gigantic bicep. "What the hell do you know about ironing, Em?"

Pinching his perfectly creased collar, Emmett said, "Who do you think presses my button-downs? I guess you wouldn't know, Mr. Superhero Tees."

"Um, guys?" Banner waved his hand between Edward and Emmett until they both looked up. "Valet, as in parking cars. I assume you both have a clean driving record?"

"Oh!" Emmett answered. "Of course!"

Edward bit his tongue. Their professor didn't need to know of Emmett's obsession with his spotless, white Jetta.

"And you, Mr. Cullen?"

"Yes, perfect record."

"Okay, one other thing . . ." Banner cleared his throat before continuing. "Just so you're aware, there's a fair bit of physical exertion involved."

"In driving?" Edward asked.

Banner chuckled. "Not so much. But after you park the car wherever it is you park the cars, you'll need to hustle back to the drop-off point again. Carlisle told me to warn you there could be as much as a quarter-mile sprint for every car."

Wonderful. Edward glanced over at Emmett McCarty, a.k.a. Marathon Man, who was busily scrubbing his hand across the part of his face where a moustache might grow if he ever broke off the love affair with his razor. Asshole.

"What?"

"Nothing," Emmett muttered into his hand.

"I can do it," Edward said. Turning to Professor Banner, Edward sealed the deal. "We'll do it."

Ἄδωνις

"Dude, are you gonna be able to handle this?" Emmett whispered to Edward. Rosalie, the lady of the house they were valeting for, had just dropped off the two of them just outside of the garage after showing them where they'd be parking her guests' cars for the remainder of the night.

Edward glared at Emmett. Truth be told, after seeing Rosalie's pitying look as she drove them up the curvy, hilly, snow covered road back to her house, Edward had begun feeling somewhat anxious about the run back, but no way would he ever admit that to Emmett.

"I'm hardly an invalid," he replied, trying his best to convey disdain and boredom at the same time. "Besides, just because you think you're God's gift to anything and everything running, doesn't mean this is going to be a cakewalk for you. It's not like you run in snow boots."

"Uh, yeah I do. Three times a week during the winter. I like the extra challenge of running in the snow, and I almost lost a pinky toe two years ago when I tried running fifteen miles in my Nikes during the Halloween blizzard of 2013."

Edward stared at Emmett and shook his head. "Who even are you, and what happened to the fat kid who used to eat Kitkats and chocolate milkshakes for breakfast?" Not that Edward had anything against being in shape, but come on!

Puffing out his chest, Emmett grinned and winked. "I'm new and improved, baby. Might as well me Atlas."

Edward rolled his eyes. "You're so damn full of yourself. Atlas? Really?"

Emmett began jumping up and down as he rubbed his hands together in a futile effort to stay warm. It was fucking freezing and no amount of friction short of the snow obstacle course they'd soon be running would change that.

"Dude, yes! We should totally use fake names tonight. This looks like a pretty snazzy event. I bet if we play up the Greek god theme, we'll be rolling in tips!"

Edward laughed. "You expect people to believe your name is Atlas? Who the hell am I supposed to be?"

"I dunno, man. I can't come up with everything. Who was Atlas' slightly less attractive, less talented, but oddly sweet sidekick?"

"You're an asshole."

"I got it!" Emmett shouted, ignoring Edward entirely. "I mean, it's a stretch, but you could be Adonis! He's supposed to be the hot one, right? And you both have that crazy hair thing going on. Just try not to get too winded, and you can totally pull it off."

Before Edward could call Emmett an asshole―again―a young brunette with large brown eyes and the cutest side-smile Edward had ever seen opened the side door to the garage.

"Oh, hey. What're you guys doing out in the cold?" The woman tossed a small trash bag into the can next to the door.

Emmett flashed his most charming smile and walked over to offer his hand. "Well, hello there. My name is Emmett, and we're parking cars for this shindig tonight."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Bella. I'm helping out with the catering crew." Bella's smile grew wider as she shook Emmett's hand, and Edward's heart sank a little. It seemed Emmett had already staked his claim on the pretty caterer, and since buying his juicer four years ago and dropping eighty pounds, Emmett rarely let anything stand in the way of what he wanted.

"You guys want to warm up in here until the first guests arrive?" Bella asked as she held the door open.

"That would be amazing. So sweet of you to offer," Emmett said as he walked by her.

Edward followed, offering Bella his own smile as he walked by. "Thanks for this. My name's Edward, by the way."

"Hi," she said. "I guess you guys can pull up a milk crate or something. This isn't exactly the Ritz, but I guess it's better than standing out in the Arctic Circle."

"Yeah, I think I just saw a penguin go by," Emmett said, all teeth and dimples and getting-the-girl.

"Well, I better get back to my smoked trout canapés," Bella said. "Good luck tonight."

Emmett answered, "Thanks, you too," leaving Edward no options beyond a nod and a lame smile before she walked away.

Slumping onto the empty crate, Edward tipped his head back against the wall. Had he known he'd be watching reruns of "The Emmett Show" and running sprints in a blizzard, he would've told Professor Banner where to stick his hog-bristle paint brush. The tips better be epic.

"Damn, she's cute," Emmett whispered. "Just my type."

Edward's eyes rolled so hard, he worried for a second they might actually freeze. "Your type?" Folding his arms over his chest, Edward ranted on. "I must have missed the part where she was a bleach-blonde airhead with fake tits."

"Dude. Ouch. And keep your voice down!" Emmett broke into a grin. "You think her tits are real?"

"Do you always have to be so vulgar?"

"Me? Ha! You're the one who brought up tits!"

"In general! Not Bella's . . . specifically."

Edward could see Emmett smirking at him out of the corner of his eye, but he refused to look. Besides, watching Bella spoon the chopped topping onto the cucumber slices was way more entertaining. Emmett followed Edward's gaze across the three-car garage.

Leaning in closer to Edward, Emmett said, "Damn, look at the loving care she's putting into every spoonful. I think I'm jealous of the trout."

"I really think you have a problem," Edward said, making Emmett laugh out loud.

The door opened, blasting them with cold air. Their boss looked none too pleased, his lips curling into a frown below his frosty moustache. "If you girls are done powdering your noses, it's go time."

Ἄδωνις

"Okay, remember, first you open the lady's door and help her out. It's icy, so offer to escort them up the walk, especially if they're not wearing boots." Carlisle looked back and forth between his newest recruits as if they were a couple of dumbasses recently dropped to earth from a planet where there was no such thing as manners.

"Yeah, man, we got it," Emmett said. "Ladies first. Red carpet treatment."

Carlisle nodded. "Open the door for the gentleman as well, but don't offer a hand unless he looks frail. You won't get a good tip if you make the guy feel like a pussy. And here's the most important thing to remember―make sure you have possession of the key before the driver exits the vehicle. Trust me, you are not going to be a happy camper if you get to the lot and can't lock the car, because I'm not going to be the one to make the return trip. Feel me?"

"Got it," Edward answered.

"Excellent. Just for that, the first car is yours, Edward."

"Fuck me," Emmett said, mouth dropped open as a bright red Fiat 500 pulled up the driveway. "You lucky bastard."

Trade you for Bella, Edward wished he could say. Instead, back in the real world where the storm was picking up intensity, Edward opened the passenger door and greeted his first customer.

"Good evening, ma'am. My name's Ed―Adonis." God, he felt like a fool. Why the hell had he let Emmett talk him into this asinine scheme anyway?

"Oh!" She giggled as she took his hand. "Adonis is it? There's a name I won't forget!"

She rose to her full height in some ultra-expensive-looking fur that dusted the ground as they walked. Edward slid her hand to his elbow just in case she slipped. An elbow could heal; his career was shit without his fingers to hold the brush.

Having safely delivered his first customer to the front door, Edward ran back to handle the driver. Tearing off the bottom of the ticket as he'd been instructed, Edward made sure the key was in the car and wished the gentleman a nice evening.

"Honey, give Adonis something for his trouble," his wife called back into the blowing snow.

The man, trapped between his car and his wife, had no choice but to take off his glove and reach into his coat for his wallet. While his wife looked on, the man pressed a ten into Edward's hand. "Stay warm, Adonis."

"Thank you, sir."

The ten felt good in his hand, but not as good as the envy all over Emmett's face.

Ἄδωνις

Six minutes later, Edward huffed as he rounded the corner into the Whites' driveway. His lungs were burning. Each breath he dragged in felt like a knife slicing through the middle of his chest. Suddenly the Hamilton in his pocket didn't feel as good as it had before he started the trek back. He had no time to rest, though. Carlisle currently held a car door open for a lady to exit her car and Emmett was nowhere in sight, which meant he must've been driving one of the cars that had flown slush up in Edward's face on his run back to the house.

Asshole probably did it on purpose.

He panted his way over to Carlisle, who dropped the keys into Edward's hand as he spoke to the arriving couple. "Edward here will take excellent care of your car. I hope you two have a pleasant evening." Turning to Edward, Carlisle lowered his voice. "Better pick up the pace. Looks like we have a rush of arrivals."

Edward suppressed his groan and carefully climbed in the car as he watched Carlisle pocket his tip from the driver.

Three trips later and thankfully there were no cars waiting when Edward panted back into the driveway. His fingers and toes were damn near frozen, and he felt quite certain he'd lost one of his lungs during the last sprint back, but at least Carlisle had handed over the tips he'd collected on Edward's behalf during the ten second lull they'd had before his last trip.

Emmett and Carlisle were nowhere to be found, so Edward huddled next to the garage, rubbing his gloved hands together in a futile attempt to warm them up. The side door of the garage opened, and Bella stuck her head out.

"Hey," she said with a tilt of her head, motioning Edward over. "You might want to consider finding a new friend. Your buddy let you take the last two cars."

"No shit?" Bella smiled, and Edward felt a little bit warmer.

"I shit you not."

"Did he even try to make up a reason or just general assholishness?"

Bella's laughter tinkled through the cold night air, warming Edward further. "First he had to tie his shoe, and that turned into taking his boots off completely to twist his sock around while he explained to me how important it is for serious runners to ensure everything fits just so." Bella lowered her voice, performing an admirable impression of Emmett. "My body is a fine tuned machine. The smallest imperfection can throw the entire thing out of balance."

Edward doubled over in laughter. "Oh man, you're perfect. I mean, that was spot on!"

Bella tilted her head to the side and shrugged. "Want to grab a cup of hot chocolate in here until your next gig comes along?"

"My kingdom for a cup of coffee," Edward replied, and then immediately blushed bright red for quasi-quoting Shakespeare in front of someone so clearly out of his league.

"I can handle that, too," she said as they walked out of the cold to find Emmett popping one of the leftover appetizers into his mouth.

"Oh, hey, Adonis," Emmett said, exaggerating Edward's fake name. "I just came in for a quick bathroom break, and then I ran into Bella's boss on the way out of the can. He said I could have a few of these. They're like a mini party in my mouth! Nice job, Bella!"

Bella accepted his compliment as car lights flashed across the wall, signaling the arrival of another guest.

"Dude, you wanna get that one?" Emmett asked, tossing another canapé into his mouth.

"Dude. No. Get your ass out there and do your job."

Pretending to look affronted, Emmett grabbed another trout-topped cucumber before running out the door.

"Did he just stuff that in his pocket?" Bella asked as she grabbed a cup and coffee carafe.

"Who the hell knows with him? He's been my best friend forever, so I sometimes forget how … unique he can be." Edward poured a healthy amount of cream into his coffee and a spoonful of sugar before taking a sip. "Mmm… this is heavenly. Thank you so much. I can almost feel my fingers again."

"Sure thing. Feel free to pop in between cars. My boss said she expects people to arrive for the next thirty minutes or so. We have to wait fifteen minutes before bringing out the main course. I'll be pretty busy, but you guys can hang out in here as long as you stay out of the way."

"That, I can do. Emmett may be another story entirely."

Car lights flashed through the window again, and Edward set his cup down. "Guess I need to get back to it."

"Anytime, Adonis," Bella said with a wink.

Feeling his cheeks heat up again, Edward bowed his head and hurried back into the cold. Maybe Emmett wouldn't get his way after all.

Ἄδωνις

"I told you this wouldn't be so bad," Emmett said as he sucked down his fourth spoonful of tuna tartare. "We get paid for sitting on our asses for the next three hours."

"Maybe by then, my toes will be thawed out," Edward grumbled.

Emmett gazed across the room, and a perverted smirk spread across his face. "I'd like to thaw her out and heat her up!" Without even looking, Edward knew his friend's obnoxious comment was directed at Bella. "You think we could convince her to pose for our figure drawing class?"

Edward sputtered and choked on a pig-in-the-blanket as his imagination ran wild. Bella, naked under her thin white robe, barefoot―no, let's make that three-inch heels, walking seductively to the center of their circle of easels, stepping onto the raised platform, turning slowly to give Edward a sly wink just before tugging open the sash―

"That's a terrible idea," Edward said, once he stopped coughing.

Emmett laughed and hopped off his crate. "Lemme get you a drink."

Before Emmett could use Edward as his sorry excuse to talk to Bella again, Edward thrust out a hand and grabbed Emmett's wrist. "I'm fine."

Emmett took a hard, long look at the don't-fuck-with-me expression on Edward's face. Lifting his hands in surrender, Emmett sat his ass back down. "Fine. Just trying to make sure you don't choke to death before we have to dig out all those fucking cars."

"Your concern is underwhelming."

"Pshh. Hey, would it be okay with you if I take a leak, Adonis?"

"Be my guest."

"Don't mind if I do."

Emmett popped up again, a little too eager for a guy headed to the can. Of course he'd take the opportunity to walk right up to Bella, who was bent over a platter with some kind of fancy rolled-up meat, and lean in to whisper something in her ear as he passed. Fucking McCarty.

Bella giggled and shook her head.

Look away! Edward told himself, and he tried, he really did. But his eyes were riveted to the pretty girl, and that's exactly where he was gawping when she looked up at Edward and rolled her eyes at Emmett's shenanigans. Elation swept through him, and he grinned like an idiot.

"Okay, Bella," her boss said, "I'm taking the swordfish and couscous. Garnish your roulades and meet me inside?"

"Sure," Bella answered, wiping her hands on a nearby towel.

The garage door closed with a thud, leaving Edward and Bella alone together. Edward's heart took a little hop. It was hardly a romantic setting, but alone was alone. The aromas coming off the food swirled in the air along with his growing desire, and it was all Edward could do to stay put on his little crate on the opposite side of the garage. The last thing Edward wanted to do was get Bella in trouble; just because he had time to goof around didn't mean she did. He sipped at the coffee she'd refilled for him, spying on her around the carafe because he couldn't help himself, and praying she wouldn't think he was some creeper.

"Garnish, garnish," Bella muttered as she frantically scanned the plastic bins for answers.

"You okay over there?" Edward asked.

"Sure," she called back. "How hard can it be to garnish a platter, right?" Her anxiety ballooned and landed on her work space like a lead ball.

Edward set down his coffee and slowly approached the table. "Need some help?"

She stopped what she was doing and looked up at him. "No offense, but what does a valet parker know about garnishes? Even if you are a Greek god," she added with a grin.

"I have a bit of a confession," Edward said. "I'm not exactly a professional valet."

Bella gasped while her hands found her hips. "No!"

Edward's blush rose all the way up to his scalp. "That obvious, huh?"

"As long as you're really Adonis, I can live with the disappointment."

He spread his arms. "Sadly, I'm just a lowly art student, but lucky for you, I can make one hell of a still life out of whatever you've got in there."

"Really?" Her face lit up as the stress drained away. "Can you teach me? No offense, but I don't think it would be too cool to have your hands all over the food."

No, it would be so much cooler to have them all over you, Edward mused, followed by a swift mental kick in the gut. Wonderful, now you sound like Emmett.

"Of course. What have we got to work with?" Edward stepped closer, entering her work space and scanning the containers.

"Oh, let's see here . . . all your basics: parsley, radish, lemon . . ."

"Too boring. Ah, okay. Grab two of those scallions and clip them about four inches up . . . that's it . . . okay, got any cucumber left? Let's slice those into crescents and flare out a bunch right here. Are those flax seeds? Perfect! Those are your coconuts! Spread a little of that goo―"

"That goo is aioli!" Bella giggled as she dabbed it onto the plate and carefully set the tiny seeds in place.

"Hey, I'm the artist; you're the chef. Voilà! Tropical paradise!"

"Oh my god! We just made a pair of palm trees! In the middle of a blizzard! They're gonna love these!"

Edward bit the inside of his cheek so the smile didn't completely take over his face. "Glad you like it," he said, just as Emmett burst through the door.

"Like it? I think I'm in love."

Ἄδωνις

At the sight of Emmett's face falling, Edward's hopes soared. It wasn't often Emmett played second fiddle to anyone.

"So, Bella," Emmett began, "what do you do when you're not making this awesome food?"

"Make other awesome food." Bella grinned as she continued to mess with the food. "I'm in culinary school at Cambridge. I'm lucky I landed this job. Masen Fine Foods is like ... the best catering agency in the area. If I do well, it'll go a long way toward starting my career after I graduate."

"That's awesome. I'm waiting to hear back from the MFA about a spot for one of my paintings." Emmett waggled his eyebrows. "It's a nude."

"Oh?" Bella asked. "That sounds promising. Do you have anything in the works, Edward?"

Before Edward could answer, Emmett spoke up. "Professor Banner only chose me out of the whole class to recommend." Edward glared at Emmett and opened his mouth to explain that the exhibit only included paintings, and Edward's focus steered more toward graphic art, but Emmett plowed ahead. "Eddie here is great, though. I'm sure he'll get his day in the sun soon enough. He just needs a little more maturity and finesse in his work."

Bella's hands fumbled, and she frowned as she mumbled a quiet, "Oh."

Restraining himself from wringing Emmett's neck, Edward clenched his fists at his side and said, "Though Emmett has a mind like a child, he doesn't appreciate the art I specialize in. He doesn't think graphic artists have a real place in the art world."

"Are you kidding? That's awesome!" Bella's eyes lit up. "I grew up with a brother who was obsessed with everything Marvel. Iron Man is his hero."

"Yeah? That's awesome. I'm more of a DC man myself. It's hard to beat Superman."

"I just think other types of art require an additional level of creativity and inspiration than tweaking a superhero who's been around for eighty years and been depicted five thousand different ways already."

"'Cuz painting naked people is so original? Michelangelo created the greatest work of nude art over five hundred years ago, yet people still sculpt, draw, and paint them."

"You're seriously comparing Michelangelo to Stan Lee?"

"Um…" Bella interrupted, her eyes flickering back and forth between the guys. "It's really not a big deal. Both types of art have their own unique value."

Edward winced, realizing they'd dragged Bella into their never-ending debate. She clearly felt uncomfortable, but which type of art reigned superior was a timeless argument among art majors, and most 'heated discussions' ended with everyone going to the bar for a round of drinks. Intending to put her at ease, Edward said, "Of course, you're―"

"Edward wet the bed until he was nine! I know because he wore pull-ups every time I spent the night at his house!" Emmett practically shouted, interrupting Edward.

"What the fuck, man?" Edward asked, staring open-mouthed at his apparently now delusional best friend.

"And in tenth grade he thought the head cheerleader had asked him to prom when really she was just asking him to babysit her little sister!"

Edward clenched his jaw as anger bubbled up inside of him. It was obvious Emmett wanted to make Edward look like an idiot in front of Bella, but he refused to stoop to Emmett's level. Taking a deep breath to calm down, Edward paused. "Emmett's dad thinks he's gay and tried to teach him how to have gay sex!" he shouted.

Bella, who'd looked horrified while Emmett spewed some of Edward's most embarrassing secrets, burst out laughing, and Edward slapped his hand over his mouth. So much for taking the high road.

"Dude!" Emmett shouted. "Not cool!"

"Me?" Edward said. "You started it and for no damn reason!"

"Uh, guys," Bella interrupted. "I really need to get these plates finished, so I'll let you two finish this conversation … over there."

Edward's heart sank, and he immediately turned to Bella. "I'm sorry, Bella. That was totally inappropriate of me. I'll let you get back to your work."

"Yeah, sorry, Bella," Emmett parroted, sounding a bit like a lost puppy.

When they reached the corner of the garage, Edward slapped Emmett upside the back of his head.

"What the hell, Em?"

"Ow," Emmett pouted. "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me. She's so pretty, and I can't figure out why she's not into me."

"I know you're used to women falling at your feet, but you don't have to ruin my chances the first time someone shows more interest in me than you. She's really cool and funny, and she actually seemed to be flirting with me! And now I have no chance in hell."

Emmett nodded. "That really sucks, man. She's insanely hot."

Edward glared at him. "Yeah, I'm aware."

"I could talk to her for you. Smooth things over."

"No!" Edward hissed. "Absolutely not. I'm good sitting in the corner and cutting my losses tonight."

"Come on. It's not that bad. Everyone has embarrassing shit in their past. You just got yours out of the way before the first date. It can only go up from here! Lemme talk to her for you. Besides, last time I was inside taking a leak, I caught the lady of the house checking me out. She's smoking. A total MILF."

"You need help." Edward ran his hand through his hair and peeked over Emmett's shoulder at Bella, who was busying concentrating on plating food. She had a small smudge of green sauce on her chin, and Edward wanted nothing more than to lick it off. He shook his head. "I appreciate it, but please don't say anything to Bella. We've traumatized her enough for one night."

Ἄδωνις

"Cream puff?"

Edward jolted upright as two black pumps appeared in front of his boots. How had he not noticed Bella's approach?

Before Edward could say a word, Emmett blurted out, "I'm not gay!"

"You ass!" Edward hissed, digging his elbow into Emmett's side. "She's offering us dessert!"

Bella lowered the tray with a soft giggle. "You two are quite the trip. Bartender's just announced last call. Thought I'd bring you a treat for the road."

"Thanks, Bella. That's really sweet of you." Edward plucked one of the cream puffs from the edge of the platter, where it wouldn't leave a hole, but not Emmett. He stuck his big paw right in the middle and took the biggest pastry off the tray.

"What's the matter with you?" Edward chided him. "I'm sorry, Bella. Emmett was raised by a pack of wolves. We just taught him to use a fork last week."

"Not true," Emmett said around the wad of food between his lips. "I come from a long line of civilized people, descended from the Mayflower, if you'd like to know the truth."

"Whatever. A dog with a pedigree is still a dog." Edward bit into the sweet pastry, and a gush of sweet custard filled his mouth. "Oh my god, this is so incredibly delicious, Bella."

"Glad you like. I think they're pretty yummy myself."

"And hey, what's that?" Edward stood so he could get a better look at the platter. "Did you make a sun?"

"Mmhmm," she answered with a proud grin. "Mint leaves all around, a slice of lemon ..."

"Ha! Are those little sunglasses? Nice touch."

Bella lowered her eyes, and Edward could've sworn she was blushing. "I had a pretty good teacher."

Emmett stopped chewing and looked back and forth between them. "Food porn. Nice―kinky, but nice."

Edward gave her a sorry about my caveman friend shrug.

Carlisle opened the door, took one look at Emmett licking his fingers, and shook his head. "Time to work off dessert, boys. Let's roll!"

"I get the Fiat this time," Emmett said, skipping out after Carlisle into the snowy night.

Edward gave Bella a little wave as he pulled the door closed behind him. "Fine, but I don't think she'll believe your name is Atlas." He smirked and grabbed the key Carlisle was still holding. "Ready?"

"I was born ready, baby."

They took off down the icy hill. Within seconds, Edward was wishing he was back in the garage with Bella, cream puffs or not. She'd made the first move this time; that was encouraging, right? And how about that blush? He hadn't imagined it. Bella was into him. Now, all he had to do was come up with some reason to talk to her again before they both went their separate ways at the end of this event and he never saw her again.

The Beemer chirped when Edward clicked the key, lighting up the menacing scowl of the headlights. Sweet. He climbed in and started the engine and wipers. The windshield cleared with a few sprays of fluid, but the rest of the car was blanketed in at least four inches of snow. He hopped out and brushed off the windows and lights. Multiply that by fifteen, and it was gonna be one long fucking night.

Edward shifted the car into reverse and pulled out of the parking space, the tires groaning as they packed down the fresh snow. The satellite radio was tuned to the all-Springsteen station, and a white cloud spilled off his lips as Edward sang along to "Pink Cadillac." The butt warmer had just about un-numbed his ass when he rolled up to the house.

A line had already formed, and Carlisle slapped the next key into Edward's hand before he even had a chance to stuff his tip inside his pocket. "Keep it moving, boys," he said.

Fucker. Easy for you to say.

As Edward skated down the icy driveway, he had one thought on his mind: finish before Bella leaves. He pushed through the burning in his lungs and the bite of the cold on his fingers and toes. He ignored the throbbing in his temples as his brain froze from the inside out. One after the next, Edward sprinted for those cars, delivered each with an efficient charm that earned him a fortune in tips, and grabbed the next key from his boss's outstretched hand.

Emmett stopped trying to keep up with him, yelling "Gotta pace yourself, man," each time Edward overtook him, but Edward simply waved without slowing down. He was truly a man on a mission.

"Nice hustle, Adonis," Carlisle said. "If that starving artist thing doesn't pan out, know there's always a spot for you on my crew."

"Thanks, boss. It was … interesting."

Carlisle lifted his eyebrows. Kneeling to latch his key box, he said, "That's Zeus to you."

"Fair enough. Hey, would you happen to know where Emmett is?

"I believe he is 'saying goodnight' to the hostess."

"Oh."

"Yeah." Carlisle stood and offered Edward his gloved hand. "Night, Edward. I'm gonna take off before I see something I shouldn't see."

"Gotcha. Thanks for the work, Carlisle."

Heart in his throat, Edward jogged to the garage.

"Oh shit!" was the first thing he heard when he pushed open the door. His eyes tracked Bella's voice to where she was swaying under the weight of the plastic green crate Edward had been using as a seat. The glassware clanked in protest as she jostled the contents.

"Bella! Let me!" Edward darted to her side and wrapped his arms around the crate.

"Oh god, thank you. I wasn't expecting it to be so heavy."

"Let go. I've got it."

"Are you sure? You're frozen solid!"

True, he couldn't feel his fingers, but the crate was child's play compared to what he was used to lifting at the gym. Even through his thick gloves, Edward had a sturdy grip, and he couldn't bear to see her straining. "I'm good, Bella," he said gently.

Eyes locked across the foot of space between them, they held an entire silent conversation until Bella finally relaxed her grip and stepped back. Edward beat down the smile that wanted so badly to break free. The heat had returned, pumping through his veins and warming his insides.

"Where am I going with this?" he asked.

"Back of the truck," she said. "And thank you … Adonis."

If he had even half of Emmett's confidence, Edward would've winked at her shy smile. But Edward being Edward, he blushed, mumbled "any time," and stacked the crate in the back of the catering truck.

"Got any other jobs for me while I wait for Emmett to finish up whatever it is he's doing inside?"

Bella looked up from the worktable she was busy clearing, a tiny smirk curling up the edges of her mouth. "Don't you mean 'whoever he's doing'? I'm pretty sure he's in the powder room with the hostess."

"Seriously? With her husband in the next room?"

Bella giggled. "He's not her husband. He's a rich guy who likes to throw parties, and she's the trophy girl he's parading around tonight."

"I guess his trophy just went to another competitor."

Nodding, Bella said, "Maybe you should take off your coat and make yourself comfortable. You might be here a while."

"Pfft, I doubt it. Ten minutes, tops." Unfortunately, Edward was well acquainted with Emmett's timetable, having shared a dorm room with him for two years at BU.

"Okay, then," Bella said, busying her hands and avoiding his gaze.

"Sorry. I just … don't really share Emmett's attitudes about certain things." Edward peeled off his snowy cap and gloves and tossed them onto a stack of folding chairs along with his coat.

"Certain things?"

"Call me old-fashioned," he said, "but I don't maul a girl until at least the third date."

Bella's face opened into a wide smile that thawed all his parts. "Good to know."

Grinning so hard Edward was sure his face would break, he stepped up to the table and clapped his hands together. "Now give me something to do."

Ἄδωνις

Four weeks later, Edward turned off his engine and pocketed the keys to his car before grabbing the small, wrapped box in his passenger seat. Tonight was only his third official date with Bella, but since they'd met exactly one month ago today, a day pass without at least a quick text between them to say hi. More often than not, they spent several hours a night talking on the phone, slowly getting to know one another. He knew it was kind of high-schoolish to present a gift at a one-month anniversary, especially since they weren't even officially dating, but Edward had started absently sketching every time they spoke on the phone, and he couldn't resist presenting her with the final piece.

Bella opened the door before he could even knock and pulled him inside with a sweet but lingering kiss, full of promise for everything a stereotypical third date entailed.

"Hey," he said, not even caring how dopy his grin probably looked right now.

"Hey!" she said, kissing him again and pulling him farther into her apartment. "Come on in. I'm still cooking, so I'll give you the tour after we eat."

He followed her through a small living room and into an even smaller kitchen. Bella lived with one other girl, Alice, who also attended Cambridge, and their place felt very much like a female college apartment. Tiny but homey with knickknacks adorning every available space.

Edward placed his gift on the table and slid his jacket off before hanging it on the back of one of the kitchen chairs. "Need any help?"

Bella stood at the stove with her hair in a messy bun and one foot propped on her other calf. She looked gorgeous.

"I have everything under control. I hope you like chicken cacciatore. I've been playing with this recipe for a while, and it's almost perfect. I feel like I should warn you, if it's not, we'll be having this pretty often."

Edward couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face. He loved the idea of Bella planning more meals with him in mind—even if it was the same meal over and over. "I love chicken cacciatore, and I have a feeling I'm about to taste my new favorite recipe."

Bella rolled her eyes but smiled as she did. "Such a charmer. You can grab the plates out of that cabinet if you want, and there's a tossed salad already together in the fridge."

A few minutes later, Edward scooped up a pepper and onion then stabbed a piece of chicken with his fork and dipped it the rice. Bella watched, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

"It's amazing," Edward said after he finished his first bite. "Seriously, Bella. I've never tasted chicken cacciatore this good. How is the chicken so tender?"

Clapping, Bella wiggled her ass as she chair-danced in victory. "I braised the meat overnight. I'm so glad you like it, since you know, cooking is kind of my life."

"I never doubted."

"Well, same here, buddy. When do I get to see some of your artwork? I'm dying of curiosity."

Suddenly nervous, Edward set down his fork and grabbed the sketch he'd made for her. "Actually, I drew something for you."

Bella's eyes lit up. "Oh my gosh! That's incredible! Thank you! Can I open it now?"

"Of course. It's yours."

Butterflies danced in Edward's stomach even as Bella leaned over and planted a kiss on his cheek before tearing into the paper. She tossed it carelessly on the table before slowly pulling the top off the thin box. A slow smile spread over her lips as her eyes raked over his framed picture.

"Is this me?"

Edward nodded.

"You made me into a superhero?"

Edward swallowed and nodded again.

"You made me into a superhero who cooks?" she asked, holding up the picture and pointing to the spatula her superhero self wielded like a weapon.

"I know. It's kind of lame, right?" Edward felt his cheeks warm up. "But, I guess that's how I see you—this larger than life, amazing girl. But you're so passionate about food and creating new dishes … I couldn't leave that part of you out."

Bella laid the drawing on the table and scrambled out of her chair and into Edward's lap. "Oh, you are about to get so lucky," she said before closing her mouth on his.

Truth was, he'd gotten lucky a month ago, and he damn well knew it. But tonight … this sweet moment was one he'd been looking forward to for weeks, and he didn't regret one minute of the waiting. Bella was worth it. They were the real deal.

His hands glided down her back and came to rest on the perfectly rounded humps of her bottom. "Mmm, how are you so skinny when you're always cooking up such delicious treats?"

Bella giggled, drawing a line of soft kisses along the sharp line of his jaw. "I don't eat everything I make," she whisper-teased into the soft shell of his ear.

The room tilted as her tongue swiped a warm trail behind his ear.

"I would," he answered. Totally under her spell, he babbled every thought that came into his head. "I would eat every single thing you made. Anything your hands touched, anything your mind created, I would devour."

"That's three-quarters hot, and one-quarter super creepy," she told him with a giggle. "Do I need to worry for my food now? Are you some kind of stalker like that Fifty Shades guy?"

"I don't think so, but then again, your marinara makes me forget my own name." He cupped Bella's chin in his hand and pressed his lips to hers not quite as gently as he'd intended. Their tongues chased each other back and forth until they both needed to draw air.

"That's my super power, you know."

Edward chuckled. "Marinara?"

"Yep. Whoever tastes it is forever under my spell."

"Well, that's true," he admitted. "Full disclosure, you had me at the fig spread."

"It's the Manchego combo," Bella said with a grin. "You did go a little nuts for that."

"So tell me, Iron Chef Maiden," he said, peppering light kisses down the sweet skin of her neck. "What's your kryptonite?" The top button of her blouse stopped him from going any further. He lifted his face and kissed her again on the lips, distracting her while his fingers popped open one button at a time until her shirt was open to her waist. "What makes you go weak in the knees?"

Bella cupped the back of Edward's neck in her hand and drew him to her lips once again. Soft kiss. Foreheads touched and rested together. Bella smiled. "It's a close call, but I'd have to say your lips."

He leaned in and used his lethal weapon against her, taking his sweet time with their kisses until the lure of her breasts was too much for him to ignore. He would've used his hands, but now that she had revealed her weakness for his lips, he teased his way down to that perfect spot where the two mounds met in the middle of her chest.

Bella threw her head back and moaned. Don't rush it, he reminded himself over and over. This is a marathon, not a sprint.

He lapped at a nipple, gently pushing the silky cup out of his way, then repeating his loving attention on the other side. She shivered and groaned and scooted forward in his lap until they were touching through their jeans. Edward was hard, so extremely hard. He'd waited so damn long. And her nipples were tight little buds begging for the stroking and tweaking and licking.

Everything he did to her, she responded. She came alive for him like one of his drawings on a blank canvas. He drew it; it lived. He kissed her; she vibrated. He touched her; she sang.

And he was doing a fair amount of responding himself. There were too many clothes, all of a sudden. Too many on her, too many on him. He took care of Bella first, sliding the blouse off her shoulders and unhooking her bra. Bella's eyes widened as Edward looped his fingers under the straps at her shoulders and tugged the navy silk fabric away from her chest.

His gaze dropped from her eyes to the breasts he'd just bared and then lifted again, bringing his smile with it. "I knew you'd be perfect," he said. Cupping one breast, he leaned down and kissed her delicate skin while she squirmed against his lap.

She reached for the hem of his shirt, and he let go of her breast only long enough to lift his hands over his head while she pulled off his shirt. "Hellllo, Adonis," she whispered in a half-tease that was enough to raise a deep blush on Edward's face.

"I don't suppose you're going to let me forget that any time soon." His thumbs rolled circles over her nipples as he grinned at her.

"Not likely."

"Well then," Edward said, gathering all his courage and bravado, "I guess I'll just have to make love to you like a Greek god."

Bella giggled. "No pressure or anything."

Edward shrugged and replied, "I'm not worried. I have a superhero as my muse."

He stood abruptly, catching Bella under her bottom and pulling her against his chest. "Which one's your bedroom, Iron Chef?"

Bella's eyes twinkled. "First door on the right."

He kissed her again as he walked them both down the hall and dropped her in the middle of her bed. Her arms splayed out at her sides in a take-me-I'm-yours surrender. Don't mind if I do.

He pounced onto the bed between her legs, flipping open the buttons of his fly while he crawled up her body and settled into the junction of her legs. Dropping forward, he found her belly button with his lips and tongue and decided to stay right there for a bit. Soft, warm, goose-bumpy girl. Edward's fingers worked open her fly, and she lifted her hips while he gave the jeans a couple of tugs, revealing a teeny bikini made of the same blue silk as the bra.

Did she match like this every day, or had she remembered the third time would be a charm?

And who the hell cares? he mused. She's beautiful, and she's mine.

He hooked his fingers over the waistband of her panties and inched them down over her hips and thighs. Bella drew her hands up over her head on the bed, burying them under the pillow. Her back arched like an over-tightened cello bow, and she sighed as his lips followed the whisper of fabric down her thighs, over her knees, over her calves and ankles.

He watched her carefully as he climbed between her thighs and took his first taste.

"Oh my god," she said, pulling the pillow over her face. A flick here, a wet kiss, his warm tongue.

Bella wriggled and squealed. She was embarrassed to show her face, but Edward definitely got the message―she was enjoying herself. Opening her wide, Edward lapped at her as if reaching for the custard filling in one of her cream puffs. Bella moaned and pumped her hips against his face, and he went wild. Tongue, lips, even tiny nibbles with his teeth.

Her arms tightened around the pillow, her thighs tensed around his shoulders, and her hips lifted right off the bed as she let out a muffled shriek. He followed her orgasm with gentle kisses and soft caresses until she relaxed into the bed and tossed the pillow away with a long, luxurious sigh.

Edward rose onto his knees, took one look at Bella's disheveled hair and blissed out smile, and laughed. "Was it good for you?" he teased.

"Shut. Up." She blushed bright red, and Edward thought she could not be more perfect. And then she was. "Your turn."

She watched him with a lazy smile as he drew down his jeans and boxers. Stroking himself a couple of times as he crawled back to her, he asked, "What do you want, Bella?" His voice was raw with need. Whatever Bella answered, as long as it involved his penis, he'd be happy. Very, very happy.

Bella tipped onto her side and reached into the nightstand drawer. With a condom in one hand, she curled her finger in a 'c'mere,' opening her legs in invitation. He settled between her thighs and watched with eager fascination as she placed the condom on his tip and tenderly rolled it down over his shaft. Even through the barrier, her touch felt like heaven. She trailed her fingertips along his sac; he moaned out loud.

And he was inside her.

Dropped forward onto his palms, he kissed her. Pulsating at both ends. Edward's secret drawings popped into his head, the ones he hadn't shown her yet. Sketches of her lips, a breast, other parts he could only have imagined when he drew them, now a photographic memory he'd savor forever. If only he could draw this ecstasy … But I can! he realized with a start. Not his own, but his partner's, and what could be better?

Pushing away from her lips with a lingering kiss, Edward lifted himself up again, meeting her soft, brown eyes with the intensity of his own gaze—the gaze of lover, but even more than that, the artist. Not missing a twitch, a single curl of her lip, the tiny pink mound of her tongue, waiting, trusting, joining. The images clicked into his brain, each finding its place in the album he would later create on paper. For her.

Unfocused eyes. A quiver of the chin. A crease in her forehead. The tongue swiping across her lower lip, leaving it glistening. Goosebumps on her chest, nipples tightened into points. Tension building in every muscle, coiling, spiraling … and release.

The actual moment eluded him. His eyes clamped shut with a violent urgency he couldn't control as his orgasm roared through him. What he couldn't see, he heard—her soft grunts building to a delicate sigh. He felt—her arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him to her chest, her fingers running through his hair. He tasted—the sweet, salty taste of her skin. He smelled—their musk filling the bedroom like an apple pie in the oven.

"Wow," Bella said, after several peaceful minutes had passed.

Edward lifted his head cautiously; it wasn't every day he got a 'wow.' "Same."

"So … I have a little confession," she said.

His mind raced, taking him all kinds of snarly places he never wanted to be, least of all with Bella. Boyfriend, husband, criminal record, STD's—

"Today is my birthday."

Author's Note: Happy birthday, Yummy! Hope you enjoyed our version of a fantasy involving a young handsome valet named Adonis. When Shell and I first talked about how to write this, we knew it would end up E/B, but we weren't sure how we'd get there. Would B be the mistress of the house? We didn't want to write a cheater! What about Emmett? The perennial question- straight or gay? Would he want Bella? Would he want Edward? Carlisle? Well, anyway, here's where we ended up, and we hope you liked it. We even wrote the het sex! I hope the imagery of the custard filling doesn't ruin things for anyone tonight. (Send your therapy bills my way.) As usual, it was my pleasure and honor to share the gdoc with the fabulous Miss Shell Taylor, aka shellshock81. She's also posted the story on her account, so feel free to send her some love too.

MWAH! Enjoy your special day, Jen!

XXX ~BOH