AN: Here we go again!

Thanks to FandomHopper (formerly TwilightMundi) for being the Grammar Guru and whipping my words into shape. ILY, GG.

A huge thanks to my pre-readers on this story (henceforth referred to as "The Crew"): Barburella, WithoutSunshine, YummyMummy, and SueObsessed. Your encouragement is priceless. XOXO

The idea for this fic came to me when Kenny Chesney's "Somewhere With You" came up on my iPod, and I just couldn't stop thinking about it. Enjoy.

Chapter One

I'm sitting belly up to this bar- again. I seem to spend the majority of my free time here. It's just too quiet at my apartment, and when it's quiet I tend to overthink things. Overthinking morphs into reminiscing and that leads to missing her. I'm not a masochist, not in the strict sense of the word, so I come here to Shaunacy's Bar and Grill to avoid the self-flagellation that comes with me missing her. After about three beers I'm in a better place than when I walked in, so when I hear my name called from across the bar I turn around to greet the man with a genuine smile. He sits on the empty stool to my left and bumps fists with me as we exchange pleasantries. I wave down Joe and motion him over to take our drink order.

"Hey, Em. What are ya drinking," I ask, knowing that he'll get his usual- a Bud Light. I nod my head when the bartender asks if I want another.

"Thanks man," Em starts, "How long have you been here?" He eyes the three empty bottles in front of me. He thinks he's being subtle, but believe me when I say that there's nothing subtle about my friend Emmett McCarty.

"Just long enough to work up a good enough buzz to stand being around you," I joke.

"Funny, turd. What's new?" I consider his question for a second before realizing that I don't have anything interesting to answer with.

"Not a damn thing, sadly. You?"

"Not much. I think Rose is finally gonna let me buy that boat I've been wanting." His face lights up and I'm not sure if it's because of the boat or the thought of his wife that puts that look on his face. I'm reminded how I used to feel that way about her; something I don't want to be reminded of right now, so I take another swig of my beer and ask him more about the boat.

"Really? What made her change her mind? She was dead-set against you getting that thing."

"I know, I never thought I'd live to see the day she'd agree either. She must really want something in return. I just worry what that might be."

"Sounds like Rose, and I'd be worried if I were you. If I know Rose she has a very definite, very costly something in mind. Just let me know when you actually get it and I'll help you christen her."

"Yeah, that'd be great. We could go fishing or something."

"Yeah, cool."

The conversation dies, and it's just Emmett and me sitting at a bar, sipping beers, and watching ESPN on the flat screen overhead. Eventually, when he can't stand the quiet between us anymore he tries again.

"So... you came straight here from work, huh?"

I glance down at the fatigues I'm wearing, "Yeah, jumped in the Jeep as soon as I finished up at the Armory and headed here. I didn't want you to have to wait on me." I tucked my Army-issued dog tags back in my jacket; the cool of the metal seeping through the thin cotton of my t-shirt was familiar and oddly comforting. The sensation reminded me that I'd faced bigger problems than the ones I was sitting at this bar trying to chase away.

"You didn't have to do that, you could have gone home and at least changed," he assures me.

"Nah, I didn't feel like driving out that way just to change. Besides, I'm perfectly comfortable in these," I tugged on my pants' leg. It was the truth; after three yearlong tours in Afghanistan the uniform was more like a second skin. "Plus, sometimes old Jim gives me free beer when I show up in them. Some shit about civic duty?" We both chuckle at Jim's expense. "And you know how the ladies love a man in uniform."

Emmett looks around at the near empty bar. "Sorry to inform you, man, but there's not too many ladies to impress here."

"Keep drinking, my friend, it won't be long now. The night is young." I wink and salute him with the bottle before I drain it of its contents. Before I can put it back on the bar another is there to replace it. "Thanks, Jim. What's the old Irish saying about beer..., 'In heaven there is no beer, that's why we drink ours here!'"

Jim chuckles as he clears away the four other empty bottles and wipes down the bar top. "Four beers and you're already quoting Irish sayings, son? Might be time to consider getting some grub in that gut of yours to soak up the ale."

Jim's mild Irish brogue seemed more pronounced than usual tonight, or maybe it was the beer effecting my hearing. Yeah, this was definitely my last beer. "Maybe you're right, old man," I conceded, but decided to wait to eat when I got back to my apartment. Eating alone was much more pathetic than drinking alone, according to my Scale of Lameness. It ranged from one to ten, ten being the equivalent of a grown man so obsessed with Knight Rider that he wears the Member's Only jacket and has the lights and sound effects on his Taurus. (Don't scoff, I work with that guy.) My drinking alone earlier registered a solid three on the Lameness Scale, whereas eating alone in the very same establishment would earn me at least a five. Maybe a six.

Em's voice brakes through my inner musings, "Hey, Edwardo? I asked you to meet me here for a reason, actually." He seems a little nervous, wiping the sweat from his beer in long, even strokes; taking great care to clear the whole bottle of condensation.

"Oh, yeah? You mean you didn't just miss my quick wit and stellar personality?"

"Man, there's a lot of words I'd use to describe your personality, but stellar is not one of them." He laughs and shakes his head at his own joke and I elbow him hard in retaliation. His "Ow!" is muffled by his chuckles.

"Nice, Em. Just cut the crap and spit it out," I'm not really offended; stellar isn't a word I'd use to describe my personality either. At least not seriously.

He rubs the tender spot on his arm and looks at me sideways, "So, Rose got a phone call the other night... we were both floored when we saw the caller I.D." It's clear that I'm not going to be pleased to hear who it was that called his wife, so I brace myself and take another pull on my drink. I steal my nerves against what I know he's going to tell me, but I don't acknowledge his impending doom verbally.

"It was her... Bella called," He looks over at me, assessing me for a reaction. When I give none he continues, "She's back in town and wants to see Rose and me." He quickly adds, "She never mentioned you. I'm not even sure she knows you're here, too..." She knows, I thought. "But, I just wanted you to hear it from me before you got word of her being back from someone else."

Warning me was a kind thing for him to do, I understand this, but it still bugs me that he thinks I'm so damned fragile that I wouldn't be able to handle her being back here. Hell, why wouldn't she come back? This is her hometown, too. Bella has as much right as I do to be here. She's just taken longer to get back than I did. I always knew the day would come when I'd have to see her walking down these streets again; I just never imagined that day could possibly be today. Suddenly my hands feel clammy and my uniform jacket is making it very warm in the bar.

"You okay, man?" he asks, nudging my arm. Play it cool, I remind myself.

"Yeah, Em, I'm fine. So Bella's back, it's no big deal. I appreciate you looking out for me, but I'm cool with this." No, I'm not. I unbutton my jacket and peel it off. I set it on the empty stool to my right. "Besides, this is a pretty big town, it's not like she's going to knock on my front door or walk in here and sit down next to me." My nervous laugh betrays my fear that she could very well do just that.

I hear the door to Shaunacy's swing wide and I whip around to see who's come in. My heart is pounding and I'm momentarily blinded by the late afternoon sun streaming in through the open door. My eyes are trying to readjust to the dim light in the bar when I hear a feminine voice ask if the seat occupied by my jacket is taken. I shake off the last of the blind spots in my vision and look over to see a gorgeous redhead staring back at me, patiently waiting for my answer. I move my jacket and answer, "It is now." We exchange appreciative glances as we look each other over. She thanks me and takes her seat, then extends her hand, "Hi, I'm Tanya." A beautiful, genuine smile spreads across her face. I shake her offered hand, "Nice to meet you... Edward," I inform her.

Emmett takes that as his clue to leave. "Well, on that note, I'm going home to my wife. I have a boat to earn," he quips and throws down a five.

"Good luck with that," I answer him, my eyes never leaving Tanya's.

"You okay to drive?" His concern is solid, but he's killing my game.

"Yeah, of course, man," I wave him off. I hear him chuckle as he turns to walk away.

"Later, then. I'll tell Rose to expect you for dinner Sunday, okay?"

"Yep, okay. Sunday."

He leaves me to my shiny new toy, but I think I hear him mutter, "Ah, young lust...Must be the uniform." I signal Jim over to order us drinks and ask for a menu. Looks like I won't be eating alone tonight after all. For a few hours I'm able to forget that the only woman I have ever loved is somewhere in the same town, and how I wish with all of me that I was somewhere with her at this very moment.

AN: Thank you for reading!