Thirteen

If Paul was feeling sympathetic, he might have felt bad for Charlie Swan — it probably wasn't fun to see the rebellious, angry kid from the rez wrapped around your only daughter.

But Paul wasn't really in the mood to sympathize. Nothing would ever match the terror of realizing Bella was in danger that awful day in the woods, but this came close — not for himself, but for the fear that Bella's father would find a way to make Bella feel terrible for being with him.

As Paul reluctantly stepped out of the car, Bella threw open the driver's side door and hurried over to him. Paul almost grinned when she stepped in front of him, shielding him from her father as if Paul didn't have a foot on her.

"Dad…" she started breathlessly. "You're, um… back."

"Looks like it," Charlie said flatly, stopping a few feet in front of her, his arms crossed across his chest. "Headed out early this morning to see if you needed help on the rez. Clearly, you had things… handled." He turned his glare on Paul.

Bella stepped forward, and Charlie's attention refocused on her. "Dad, let's go inside, okay? And we can talk."

"Just the two of us?" Charlie asked suspiciously, scowling at Paul again.

Paul was planning on staying in the woods until Bella went to bed, but she surprised him. "Yes, but Paul is coming inside, too. He can wait in the living room while we talk."

Charlie frowned again, but Bella reached for her keys and started toward the front door without giving him a chance to argue. Her dad followed her, and Paul, at a safe distance, trailed both of them inside.

He was impressed with his imprint's confidence, but thought he might have preferred hiding in the woods.

As the two of them continued into the kitchen, Paul hesitated in the middle of the living room, finally taking a seat on the sofa because it felt even more awkward to just stand there aimlessly.

"Bella—" her dad started a minute later. Paul could hear him clearly, even in the other room. The silence that followed was somehow just as clear.

After a long pause, Charlie spoke again. "Honey, I'm glad you're moving on. I am. But Paul Lahote… He got in fights so bad at school a few years back that Harry had me come down and threaten to take him to the jail overnight, jurisdiction or no, before I could separate him."

Paul winced. Charlie could have said worse about the fights he'd gotten into, but it still wasn't exactly complimentary.

"He's changed, Dad," Bella said, and he was relieved she didn't sound shaken, even though he didn't think she knew the full details of what he'd been like back then. Unless Jared or someone else had told her. He could picture her implacable expression perfectly. "He doesn't do that anymore. He works with Sam Uley to keep the tribe safe."

Charlie changed tactics, his tone becoming more persuasive. "Well, that may be, Bells, but… well, you know that Jacob–"

Bella interrupted sharply, "I have always been perfectly clear to Jake that we were friends. He's said he's okay with that." Her voice softened. "I don't have an obligation to date him just because you and Billy are friends, Dad."

"Well, of course not, Bells, it's just…" He sounded sheepish. "It just would be nice, is all. And the kid would do anything for you."

"Of course it would be nice, Dad." Paul could hear the smile in her voice and was grateful for the millionth time that she didn't regret not being with Jacob. "But it didn't end up working out like that. I've chosen Paul, okay? I promise you that he would do anything for me, too, and he means a lot to me. Please don't be mad at him just because you're upset that he's not Jake. Or because of who Paul used to be."

Her dad didn't respond for a minute. Then, finally, he sighed. "Okay, Bells. I'll go talk to him."

Paul heard a shuffling movement that he was pretty sure was Bella hugging her father. "Thanks, Dad. Be nice."

Her dad grunted, and then he was walking into the living room alone. He sat down in the armchair across from Paul before Paul could stand up and offer to shake his hand. He wasn't sure Charlie would have taken it, anyway.

Charlie stared at him distrustfully, steepling his fingers. He let the silence drag out between them, and Paul knew he was being weighed and measured by sharp eyes.

"You know I remember you, boy," Charlie said finally. "Just because Sam Uley straightened you out doesn't mean I've forgotten what you used to be like."

"Yeah," Paul said, trying not to sound too resentful. "I was pretty sure you would. Sir."

The other man pursed his lips. "Fights you used to get into like I'd never seen before. Bloody fights. Busted noses and broken jaws. With pretty much anything that moved."

"Yes," Paul agreed, wincing. "I, um, I'm sorry about that." He cast around for an explanation. "I work out now. A lot. It helps me calm down. Plus, I, uh, talk to Sam."

"Hmm." Charlie looked unimpressed. "You also know, I guess, that Bella's had a rough year. A real rough year. Just about the last thing she needs is another boy breaking her heart."

"I wouldn't do that. Sir."

Charlie stretched, resting his hand casually on his gun belt. "Yeah, I've heard that one before." Then he sighed. "I guess I can't really tell her who she can see; she's eighteen. But let me tell you what scares me half to death, Lahote."

He leaned forward, his sharp eyes pinning Paul. "She gives too much of herself to whoever she loves. If you can't meet her in the middle, like that Cullen bastard –" he almost spat the name "– couldn't, then you need to leave. I won't be mad, I won't tell anyone. Just walk right on out of my daughter's life and have your fun with a girl who wants something casual."

Paul shook his head. "I can't do that."

Charlie's eyes narrowed. "Why not?"

Paul took a deep breath, trying to keep his temper under control. He was so tired of people doubting his feelings for his imprint, even if Charlie Swan had no way of knowing how serious he was. "Because I can't. Because I won't. Because Bella is it for me. Forever."

The Chief still didn't look impressed. "Jacob Black could've been saying those exact same words to me a couple months ago."

"Jacob Black was in love with the idea of Bella. Not with her. And with all due respect, Jacob is completely fucking clueless and has never in his entire life had any idea what he actually wanted."

"But you do," Charlie said flatly.

"Yes."

"And it's my daughter."

"Yes. Sir," Paul remembered to add belatedly.

Charlie finally stood up. His expression was still tense, but Paul thought he looked marginally less murderous now. "Remember I own a gun, boy," he said as he turned to go back into the kitchen. "Several guns, in fact. And lots and lots of undeveloped land."

Bella came and sat down next to him on the couch a few minutes later, looking shaky.

She almost couldn't make eye contact with him, and he knew the feeling. He didn't know how he was ever going to be able to look at her again without remembering how her lips felt against his.

If she never wanted to do that with him again, it was going to be a real problem.

"My dad is mad at me," she whispered. She sounded miserable.

Paul could hear a newspaper rustling from the kitchen, where he was pretty sure Charlie had sat down at the same table where Paul had made his imprint eat breakfast, what felt like weeks ago but was really only days. He hadn't heard Charlie speak again since leaving the living room.

"Hey." He scooted closer, and following his instincts, wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She melted against him, like she'd been waiting for him to do exactly that. He wished they were watching Pride and Prejudice together again, the quiet day they'd just felt at peace in each other's presence.

And now Charlie Swan knew about two of them. Paul had a feeling that was about to make his life a whole hell of a lot harder. And more stressful for his imprint.

"He's not going to be mad forever," Paul told her softly.

Bella sniffled and tried to pull away from him as she started to cry, but Paul raised his hand and cradled the back of her head pressing her into the crook of his neck.

She buried her face against him, wetting his t-shirt with her tears. She was quiet, as if she didn't want anyone to know she was crying, and he slowly sifted one hand through her long, soft hair. He shifted against her slightly until they were as pressed together as they could be without her sitting in his lap.

"It's okay," he said, unsure if that was true but not knowing what else to say.

He wondered if she regretted kissing him, if she'd rather her dad had never learned about his presence in her life, if she'd rather be kissing someone else.

"I wanted to tell him," she said against his neck. "Just… I didn't know how to explain it, Paul. But I wanted to tell him about you."

It took Paul a second to realize she was responding to his unspoken fears.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead head before he realized he was doing it. Another move he'd never done before, but with her, what wasn't difficult was so, so effortless.

Long minutes later, Paul heard the chair in the kitchen slide across the floor, heard Charlie set something down, and then his footsteps as he walked into the living room.

"Bells," he started before she was in sight. Then his eyes widened when he saw her. "Bells, don't cry," he said. He ran a hand through his graying hair. "It's okay, honey. I promise it's okay. Please stop crying."

If Bella hadn't been so upset, Paul might have grinned at the raw terror in Charlie Swan's voice.

Paul loosened his grip around her to let Bella sit more upright, but she didn't try to move away from him. Paul found probably too much hope from that.

"I'm really sorry, Dad," she said quietly. Paul reached on his other side and pulled a tissue from the side table to hand to her. She wiped her eyes slowly. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. And I'm sorry you had to drive all the way from Seattle for me."

"I need a break from that office, anyway," Charlie said gruffly. "This is new, I take it?" He gestured between the two of them.

Which part? Paul wanted to ask. Some of it was brand new, and some of it felt like she'd been his forever.

"Yes," Bella said without hesitating. "Someone got hurt, and Paul was… upset. I stayed the night with Emily," she added, like she knew what her dad might assume. It was all close enough to the truth that she could look her dad in the eye to say it. "You can call her and ask her."

Her dad sighed. "I believe you. I guess I overreacted," he said, to Paul's surprise. "I've been away a lot, and that won't change anytime soon. You've barely had a chance to tell me anything, Bells. I'm just glad you're…" He grimaced. "Getting over… getting involved with someone else." He sounded like he wanted to stop talking about his daughter's romantic life as quickly as possible.

Paul wondered if Charlie was going to bring up his past again. This was probably the perfect moment to try to scare Bella away, when Paul wouldn't be able to deny anything Charlie said.

But he didn't. Charlie's eyes did flick to Paul's though, as if he was saying that he was purposely not mentioning it. He was doing Paul a favor, and Paul wondered if it was because Charlie thought Paul was at least better for her than Edward Cullen had been.

That wasn't really a rousing endorsement, but Paul would take it. He would have to, until he figured out how to improve Charlie's opinion of him. Maybe their conversation had at least convinced Charlie that Paul was serious about his daughter.

"Yeah," Bella said finally, watching Charlie like she was still waiting for him to yell at her. "Um, I am." She glanced at Paul and then away again, biting her lip. Paul knew they had a million things to talk about, but not in front of her dad. "If I made lunch, would you maybe be less mad?"

Charlie barked a laugh, surprised. "'M not mad at you, Bells. But I'm not gonna turn that down. Damn frozen meals they have at the station in Seattle taste like cardboard."

Bella jumped up, seeming grateful to have direction. "Then I'll cook, and I'll make plenty for you to bring back. You don't need to be eating all that sodium, anyway."

Charlie laughed again, rising. "Let me get my paperwork out of the car. I'll drive back tomorrow morning." He leveled a glare at Paul. "I never want to see a repeat of this morning, Lahote. Promise me that, and I'll let you date my daughter. Deal?"

"Deal," Paul said, and he meant it. It wasn't as if he wanted that to ever happen again in front of anyone — no one should ever see his imprint like that except him — but his imprint's father least of all.

"So he can stay?" Bella asked nervously, looking at her father.

Paul knew she was just talking about lunch, but Charlie looked him up and down once more, as if the question meant something much more. Finally, he nodded and shrugged at the same time.

"He can stay."

Paul grinned and reached out to squeeze Bella's hand without thinking about it, the tiniest, instinctive touch.

Even though her eyes were still a little red-rimmed, her smile reached her eyes.

Paul knew he would have to stay outside Bella's house that night, terrified of Charlie walking in and finding Paul spooning his daughter, even if Paul was ninety-nine percent certain he'd hear Charlie in time to hide. The risk wasn't worth it, but it sucked leaving Bella behind.

Bella walked outside with him like Paul was going to catch a ride with one of his friends back to the rez. Paul was painfully aware that Charlie was sitting in the living room, waiting for his daughter to come back inside. He wondered if Charlie would try to limit Bella's time with him.

"You're worrying about nothing," Bella said as they walked around the corner. "That's my job."

He snorted. "You're right. I forgot you're the expert."

She just smiled, and he knew he was lost, truly lost. He'd do anything, say any ridiculous thing, just to make her smile like that at him.

In his head pounded the words he'd told her dad so effortlessly, that Jacob was in love with the idea of Bella, while, he, Paul Lahote…

"You'll be close?" she asked as they approached the edge of the forest, out of sight of her house.

"Always," he said. "You know I won't let the leech hurt you, right?" He wanted her to trust him, hoped she did. "I know I got my ass handed to me." He was still pissed off at himself about that. "But as a pack, it won't be a contest. If she gets close enough to attack, she won't be able to use her crazy voodoo to hide from us. We'll be able to surround her."

"I know," she said simply, and then they were at the treeline. "I trust you."

Paul hesitated, and Bella looked up at him, her eyes in shadow, even to his eyesight. He wondered if she thought kissing him had been a terrible mistake, that she would never want to do it again. Maybe she'd hated it, or maybe she was just too traumatized from her dad catching them to think it was worth it.

She took a tiny step forward and reached out slowly to touch his hand. He let her interlace her fingers with his, and he was amazed at how that simple movement had his heart racing. The cloud coverage overhead lightened enough for him to see a softness in her eyes he hadn't seen before.

Deciding it was worth the risk, he slid his free hand softly across her cheek and into her hair. Her other hand tightened in his as he leaned down to catch her lips, and then it was heaven again, her lips parting on a slight gasp, as she pressed into him.

Some part of Paul was aware that she was on her tiptoes and she might lose her balance, so he slid his fingers along her hair and down her spine to the small of her back, supporting her weight. And if that movement pulled her tighter against him, and his own hardness, she didn't protest, and he certainly wasn't complaining.

After a long moment, she really did lose her balance, stumbling sideways, and he let go of her hand to wrap both hands around her hips, chuckling.

"You try standing on tiptoes for that long," she said, but she didn't sound mad, her swollen lips twisting up into a wry smile.

She was so beautiful in that moment, hair tousled and eyes shining, that his chest actually ached with it.

"We'll get you a step stool," he said. "Or just sit down," he added in a lower voice. Or lie down.

She didn't protest, just bit her lip, grinned, and looked away again. He was more than half-hard already; seeing her like this was making it even more difficult to walk away from her.

"Go," she said. "I'll see you tomorrow. Take a nap before patrol, okay? And be safe."

"Bossy," he said, smirking, and couldn't resist pressing his lips to hers one more time, already addicted to the way she melted against him. "Yes, ma'am."

Forcing himself to turn, he reluctantly walked into the woods. It would have to be a long walk before he was in control enough to phase, before he could forget the taste of his imprint on his lips.