A/N: I'm excited to share with you my contribution for the Babies At the Border Compilation. Over $13,000 was raised for those in need and I'm thrilled that my small contribution was a part of something so great to come from our Twilight fandom family.

Thank you to everyone who helped to organize such a massive undertaking, but especially Jeannie & Consuelo for standing tall and showing everyone that one person can make a difference. Thank you to every pre-reader, bannermaker, beta, and author who shared their time, images, and words with all of us. Thank you to everyone who donated and received the compilation back in October. I was there fangirlling right alongside each and everyone of you as I was delighted to read the words from my favorite authors.

I want to thank purplec305 for pre-reading and Midnight Cougar for beta-ing. I am always grateful for the time each of you share in helping me to grow and improve with every new story. I can't ever thank you enough. xx

This story is completely written, pre-read, and beta-ed. The first chapter is what I shared in the compilation and over 15k. The new chapters to follow vary from 1k-4k and will post daily until the story is complete on New Year's Day. Happy Holidays to you and yours! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Twilight and its inclusive material is copyright to Stephenie Meyer. Original creation, including but not limited to plot and characters, is copyright to the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

-OTG-

(EPOV)

"I can't believe this." I shake my head in disgust, glaring at the people two tables away.

"What? What is it?" Rosalie Hale, my assistant, looks around at our fellow restaurant patrons.

"I can't eat a simple lunch at a restaurant, in a foreign country, no less, without someone trying to get my photo. Look at the table behind you pretending to take a photo of the two people on one side while the phone is pointing straight at me."

"You're being ridiculous." She rolls her eyes.

"I don't think so, Rosalie. I never wanted to be famous, and the invasion of my privacy is never-ending." Looking around, I see three more phones pointed in my direction. Over the years, I've learned to spot them more easily. It comes with the territory. People think they're subtle, but they're not.

"There's a price for everything. You need to give a little, Edward."

"A little? It's nonstop. You know what?" I stand and throw my napkin on the table, even though we haven't ordered. "I'm done."

"What are you talking about, done?" Rosalie grabs my wrist, preventing my escape.

Lowering my voice, I snarl. "I mean exactly what I'm saying. I'm done. It isn't worth it anymore."

As my anger starts to rise, I look around for the exit, knowing I need to get out of here before I make a scene. The pressure on my chest is growing by leaps and bounds, while my throat feels parched and I'm having trouble breathing.

"Edward! Wait! Maybe you need a break or you're a little burned out?" She looks hopeful.

"Oh, I'm burned out all right. Call Jasper and see what he can do about any remaining contracts. I've had enough." I'm desperate to leave as I yank my wrist from her hand and head for the door with her scrambling to follow.

"You can't be serious," she says, exasperated.

Outside the restaurant, I take a cigarette from my pocket then spin to face her. "I am. Tell whomever, we have scheduling conflicts and I won't be able to do their projects—or, hell, I don't care what you tell them. Get me out of everything."

My hands shake as I struggle with my lighter. When it finally lights, I take a few puffs. The tension immediately recedes as my whole body sags in relief. Desperation gives way to a wave of calm that I welcome like an old friend.

Rosalie looks around frantically. I can see the wheels spinning trying to come up with a better solution, while Emmett McCarty, my security guard, gets out of the car and waits for us to approach.

"What about taking a break for a month? We can ask for extensions, then you won't lose some of the roles I know you've been dying to play or working with the directors. You've waited years, Edward!"

She's right. There's a couple I fought tooth and nail for, but I'm sick of the constant invasion of my privacy and the tracking of my every movement. I know the people are fans, and I get it, but it doesn't mean I don't have my limits too.

"I need a month. At least." Letting out a deep sigh, I get ready to plead my case. "I need—"

Rosalie nods, holding up her hand. "I think we can do that."

"And somewhere to go. I want to drop out of sight. I'll do whatever it takes to get me there without being tracked."

"Like an island in the Caribbean? Or a mountain retreat? Do you want to stay in the US or go abroad?" she wonders.

"It doesn't matter. I want to do nothing. No scripts to read or next moves to consider. I want to sleep late with no one selling my whereabouts or photos for an easy buck. Minimal people."

Rosalie ponders my request, starts to speak, but stops herself. Then starts again. "Okay, I have a place in mind, but I need to make a few calls first and verify availability. This is a personal, secret spot of mine and always does the trick when I need to get away from it all. What about money?"

Shaking my head, I stub out my cigarette. "Whatever it takes. Pay for privacy. I don't care what it costs."

A slow smile spreads across her face. "I've got it, Edward, and I think you will like what I have in mind. Not quite seclusion, but close."

I hope so because I recognize I'm at my breaking point. I don't know how much longer I can continue with the current pace of my nonstop schedule and ever-present lack of privacy. My job has made me more reluctant to trust others over the years; I can never let my guard down. I long for simpler times where I can take a step away from everyone and everything and just be me again. Whoever that is.

-OTG-

It's taken Rosalie a week to make the arrangements with Jasper Whitlock, my lawyer, handling all the legal specifics. I'm antsy to board the plane, and take the last few puffs from my cigarette, needing at least one more before I start this next adventure. I light up again while I tune into her explanation of my next month.

"Here's the deal. You're flying into a small airport, which normally caters to local businessmen and women with small, private planes. So, nothing is unusual there. You won't stick out at all. I have a driver who has signed a nondisclosure agreement, as has the lady running the bed and breakfast where you will stay for a month. You will wear a disguise on the flight and drive, then at the end of the month, the driver will arrive and you will reverse the process, picking up where you left off."

"And where is this place?" I'm curious.

"Forksville Township, Michigan. The bed and breakfast is on a private farm in the middle of the woods. It is a working farm, but the area where you will stay is more isolated," she explains.

I grimace thinking of the smell. "Like cows and chickens?"

Rosalie shakes her head. "No. It's more of a produce farm, but they used to have livestock. Unfortunately, they were forced to scale back in the past couple of years. There's an orchard where they grow fruit, like apples and cherries. In the summer, they sell strawberries, blueberries, and sweet corn, but with the weather changing, they will focus on gathering pumpkins and picking apples for cider."

I let out a deep sigh while fidgeting with my lighter. "Okay, and the lady?"

"I knew her growing up. Clara Swan. She ran a bakery for over thirty years, but closed it two years ago at the advice of her granddaughter, Bella. I didn't know Bella growing up, as she is younger than me, but she moved in with her grandmother when Clara was having health issues and took over running the farm."

"So, Clara and Bella. Anyone else I should know about?" I challenge, hoping she's sticking with my request of minimal people.

"Other than Clara's son, Charlie, who is the Chief of Police and also Bella's dad, I doubt you will see anyone else unless you leave the farm or go to the areas where they're working. The property has plenty of woods and trails for hiking, as it's over a hundred acres and has been in the family for years. There's a lake for fishing or just watching the sunset. You should have complete privacy." Rosalie guarantees with nod of her head.

A thought suddenly occurs to me. "What if there's an emergency?"

"I'll contact you or Clara can contact me. Take this time, Edward, and enjoy the simplicity of the season and farm. No deadlines or demands. No cell phones or me nagging you constantly. Hopefully, you'll return feeling refreshed and ready to take on everything again." She brightens with an optimistic, friendly smile.

Running my hand nervously through my hair, I worry that I need to explain. "I—"

Rosalie holds up a hand, stopping me before I get started. "You don't have to spell it out for me. You have bounced from project to project without a single vacation for years. I watch as you dive into another character, losing pieces of yourself along the way. I hope the break will help remind you who you are and where you want to see yourself going."

I breathe in deeply as my resolve strengthens. "Okay, let's get going."

-OTG-

The flight is uneventful, and my driver barely says a word until we arrive when the sound of the tires crunching over the gravel driveway finally comes to a halt. He opens my door then hands me my bag, and I hear a muffled barking sound coming from inside the house.

"Sir." He nods, returns to the car, and disappears down the driveway without another word.

I pull off the baseball cap, sunglasses, and fake beard, tossing them into the outer compartment of my bag.

After a quick glance at my surroundings, I admire the front of the sprawling, white farmhouse nestled among the trees. It is surrounded by other detached buildings of what I guess are barns for storing equipment and supplies.

Spinning around in a complete circle, I gaze at the patchwork of colors throughout the trees, and already I feel a little lighter. There are gold, orange, and red leaves for as far as the eye can see while a constant shower of leaves float to the ground in the gentle breeze on this sunny, fall day.

After a few deep breaths, taking in the fresh autumn air, my feet lead me toward the house, crunching across piles of scattered leaves along the sidewalk. The entrance is inviting with the "welcome" wreath, while pumpkins and mums in the colors of the season edge the pathway to the door.

Before I can get to the entrance, a short, plumpish woman with a warm smile and kind eyes opens the front door of the farmhouse and waves me inside. "Hello, you must be Edward. I'm Clara Swan, but please call me Gran."

I shake her hand politely. "Edward Cullen. I appreciate you being so accommodating to my schedule."

She waves off my comment and closes the door behind me as a small, fluffy, white dog greets me with a wagging tail and plenty of enthusiasm. "I adore Rosalie. I've known her since she was a little girl coming into my bakery with her grandmother. She stayed summers with her grandparents, but a day didn't go by without her needing one of my 'special' cookies, as she called them."

"What made them 'special'?" I ask, reaching down to pat the dog's head while he sniffs my boots.

"Why they're full of love, of course. And don't mind Cooper. He's my tiny watchdog who is more of an alarm than anything. If you sit still too long, he will snuggle up and join you in a nap." She chuckles. "He usually hangs out with me in the kitchen, looking for any morsel which may drop."

He doesn't look like a mix but a purebred. "Is he a Maltese?"

"Yes. He has such a wonderful, easygoing personality. I'm sure the two of you will get along fine. We have a cat too. Her name is Ginger, but who knows where she's hiding at the moment." Gran points toward the stairs. "You are welcome to any of the rooms upstairs. We remodeled this old farmhouse two years ago and added bathrooms to each of the bedrooms. Take your pick, and you can leave your bag up there. Since you're my only guest for the next month, it will just be the two of us, and my bedroom is here on the main level. Are you hungry? I've finished filling bread orders this morning and I've got soup on the stove."

"That sounds delicious. I'll just slip upstairs for a moment."

When I make my way to the upper level, I look through the three similar bedrooms decorated in serene, natural colors. Each are distinctly a prominent color with one being almost all white while another is mostly browns, but I'm drawn to the blue room. There are queen beds in each with a desk and chair looking out each window. I look through the closets finding extra bedding and blankets, with plenty of room to store my things. After concluding there isn't a difference in the full bathrooms, just the colors, I decide on the blue one that overlooks the in-ground pool behind the house, then return to the main level.

Letting my nose guide me to the kitchen, I find Gran is a flurry of activity, moving between areas.

"It smells tempting in here." My voice startles her, but when she sees it's me, she shares a warm smile.

"See what I mean. You didn't even alarm Cooper. He already loves you. Take a seat." Gran points toward one of the stools at the island, while I spy the pup looking cozy in a nearby dog bed as his eyes droop closed. "I've got to bag up my bread order for the restaurant, but I'll get your soup."

She ladles a rustic-looking brown bowl full of steaming soup and sets it in front of me on a plate, then brings over a wooden cutting board with a small loaf of bread, a silver cup of what looks like whipped butter, and a knife.

"Today is New England Clam Chowder. I've won a few prizes for this recipe over the years. I think the secret is the bacon. I hope you'll like it. The bread is fresh from this morning's batch. Even though I don't have the bakery any longer, I still have the demand, thanks to my granddaughter, Bella. During the remodel, we upgraded my kitchen to continue making everyone's bakery favorites without the overhead of my old shop. My new landlord was trying to run me out after thirty years there because he wanted to bulldoze the property in favor of something else."

"So, you cook and bake for your guests; and what, cater on the side?" I ask, then scoop up a spoonful of soup, blowing on it lightly.

"Yes, I have a deal with two local restaurants, which keep me plenty busy with their orders for bread, cookies, cakes, and pies. As a farmer, it's difficult to keep money flowing during the winter months. When my husband passed away, I tried keeping up with everything, but it became too much. Bella is a lifesaver. She moved into the cottage by the main barn and took over the responsibilities of the farm. We eliminated all the horses and livestock and expanded the orchard. Then she thought we should turn the old farmhouse into a bed and breakfast, which has been a fantastic idea and it keeps me busy. The company it brings is always welcome."

"Does Bella come by here a lot?" I wonder if she's young enough to recognize me.

"At least once a day to pick up orders and deliver them, usually in the afternoons. How's the soup?"

"Unbelievable, but I'll be honest; I don't think I've had butter or bacon in at least ten years. This is so satisfying I'm thinking they've been starving me."

"You look a little thin, but I'm positive we can fix that. There's a reason they call it comfort food." She winks.

"Knock, knock!" I hear a voice from a hallway off the kitchen and the slam of a door. "Gran, do you have your—"

Cooper barks excitedly and runs over to greet the woman I believe to be Bella as she looks like a younger version of Gran. She scoops him up in her arms, then he licks her face repeatedly.

"Cooper! How are you, buddy? So many kisses." She giggles, setting him back on the floor, then wipes her face.

Gran grins, making our introduction. "Bella, this is Edward. He's staying with me for the next month."

"Oh, the NDA?" Bella raises her eyebrows.

"What's that dear?" Gran looks confused, but Bella explains.

"He's the reason we needed to sign the non-disclosure agreements."

"Yes, right. Edward is a famous movie star," she states proudly, as if I'm her own son.

"Is he?" Bella's smile is mischievous. Immediately, I'm cautious and curious as to what she may know. But before I can ask, her attention is on her grandmother. "Do you have everything ready for me to make today's delivery?"

"I'll pull it together now. How's your morning been?" Gran asks.

"We've been busy pressing apples. I dropped off thirty gallon jugs of cider and a load of pumpkins at the mill. It should hold them for a couple of days, but you know how weekends are. Sam will haul another truckload of pumpkins later this afternoon. Emily was busy making cinnamon sugar donuts for some kindergarteners on a field trip from a nearby school." She drops a bag on the countertop of the island.

The exchange between Gran and Bella leaves me with questions. I don't remember Rosalie mentioning anyone named Sam or Emily. I understand I'm an outsider in their world, but maybe I can figure out the details without needing to pry.

Gran lights up. "Did you check them?"

"Yes, they taste exactly like you used to make. No worries. You should try one, Edward." She pushes the bag in my direction, but her genuine smile that lights up the room, leaves me captivated by this newest arrival in my temporary world in Forksville.

I reach over and open the bag as the smell alone makes my mouth water. "I can't remember the last time I had bread, sugar, or any carbohydrate before coming here."

"You don't eat carbs or sugar?" Bella asks, slightly bewildered.

"Not by choice. I'm representing a clothing line that requires a certain look, I'm told."

"You look like skin and bones. Is that what's in now? Maybe you should just keep the entire bag of donuts." She gives them a little push in my direction, then grabs the huge bag filled with small loaves of bread like the one I've been eating with my soup. "I'll load the truck, Gran."

My eyes follow her while my tongue is in orgasmic heaven. She's a natural beauty with her dark brown hair and green eyes. I can already tell that keeping my curiosity and growing attraction to her a secret, may prove difficult.

I notice she's curvier than the women I'm used to seeing, or maybe it's just all the layers she's wearing for this time of year. Most of the women I know in show business are pencil-thin, eating little and smoking nonstop to suppress their appetites.

A practice I'm all too familiar with in Hollywood. Rosalie has been after me to quit for years. Unfortunately, I'm a stress smoker, but also smoke when I drink. With zero stress planned for the next month, I'm hoping this getaway is what I need to kick the nasty habit.

Bella returns from outside and easily lifts another box, giving me a quick smile, then heads back down the hallway.

I'm about to offer my help in loading the items, when Gran distracts me by filling the long kitchen island with nearly a dozen labeled cake boxes.

My eyes widen. "You made all of this today?"

She nestles them within a larger box for transport. "Yes, this morning. Living on a farm and running the bakery for so many years turned me into an early riser. I hope I won't disturb you, but I'm usually up baking around 4:30 a.m., then I'll turn in early in the evening, and you'll have the place to yourself."

"Gran, do I have everything?" Bella grabs the remaining box with practiced ease, and I'm a little disappointed that it's clear she doesn't need my help.

"Yes, that's all the cakes. I'll have the pie order tomorrow for Shelly. Did Jacob want to add anything else to his order?"

My ears perk up at the mention of another man. Maybe Jacob is her boyfriend?

"I don't know. I'll call him and double-check." She turns in my direction. "Nice to meet you, Edward. I'm sure I'll be seeing you around."

"Yeah, good to meet you too, Bella." I stuff another donut in my mouth and watch her leave, hoping I'm here the next time she returns.

"They're delicious, aren't they?" Gran sneaks one from the bag for herself. "Mmmmm."

I nod my head since my mouth is full of cinnamon and sugar goodness.

"I love that recipe, and Emily is such a sweetheart. She is Sam's wife and heads up the kitchen over at the Black Swan Cider Mill. It was in the Black family for years, but eventually they sold all the farmland to developers, and the old cider mill is all that remains. It's a historic building now and protected, thankfully, but people still love to visit every fall, a tradition in this area. Without farmland, Jacob needed a supplier to keep the mill going, and he asked us, creating a partnership between our two families. He and Bella work hard to keep us in business. It helps the demand is high this time of year too."

The pieces are falling together. Sam works here on the farm, and Jacob is some kind of business partner.

"A cider mill?"

"Yes. Haven't you ever visited one?"

"I can't say I have."

"Here." Gran reaches into the refrigerator, pulls out a gallon-sized jug, and looks for a glass. "We press all the apples here and the mill is more of a distributor or store, I guess. They sell all the items we make here on the farm. Bella runs a booth at the Farmer's Market for us during the spring and summer, but in the fall, the mill opens September through October. Families from all around the area come to pick pumpkins, eat cinnamon sugar donuts, and drink freshly pressed cider."

I look at the cloudy, amber-colored contents of the glass she sets in front of me, then lift it to take a sniff.

"There's nothing like it when it's fresh. Different from apple juice, which I'm positive you've had. Some people have issues with it being unpasteurized, but that's what makes it great. We take sanitation seriously and have extra precautions in place to make certain our cider is safe."

I tip the glass up toward my mouth and take a sip. "Wow. It tastes like—" Not finding the right words to describe it.

"Autumn." Gran gives me a knowing grin. "It's something special to this season and our area. Fresh cider is full of complex flavors, which light up your taste buds. It's sweet while tart and a little bitter."

I tilt back the remaining contents, emptying the glass. "You said you sell other things—like what?"

Gran refills my glass before putting the jug back in the refrigerator. "Let's see. I make various jellies, jams, and apple butter. The garden provides everything we need for salsas and sauces. You know things like tomatoes, peppers, and onions. We collect wildflower honey from our bees and the sap from our sugar maples at the end of winter, then make maple syrup. Bella goes mushroom hunting in the spring and usually finds numerous morels, which are highly valued in this area."

"So, all of this keeps you in business," I ask curiously, as I finish eating my soup.

"Yes, year-round; there's always something to do. Bella planted rows of Vidal grapes when she moved in two years ago, as she keeps talking about learning to make ice wine. In my understanding, the grapes freeze on the vine after the first frost, then our workers harvest and process them as you would regular wine. I've tried a few of her batches and found the wine to be sweet. It's more of a dessert wine."

"Sounds interesting." I can't ever recall tasting ice wine.

Gran taps her chin in thought. "Let's see, what else do we make? Bella has sold jewelry in the past. I think she's considering trying her hand at soap making and bath scrubs to expand the options we offer. The winter months are good for those projects. You know, arts and crafts. I quilt a little, but would rather knit."

I look around considering how I will spend my days. "What are my options for things to do around here? I'm not used to having so much time on my hands. So, it will probably be a change not always being on the go."

Gran reaches over to take my dishes, cleaning them up while I go back to eating more donuts.

"Hopefully, you aren't expecting too much. We live in the woods, but are fairly self-sufficient. We don't have gas lines like in town. So, we keep a liquid propane tank, which they refill regularly. Don't be alarmed if the truck shows up unexpectedly. We have electric with a back-up generator in case we lose power from a storm. We use our wood-burning fireplace typically for heat. Our water comes from a well, which is a little different too.

"We don't have cable television, but our antenna from years ago still picks up plenty of channels. I had internet television installed recently, and we have access to the internet with Wi-Fi available, but it's slow. You will find yourself giving up and doing something else. I love something Bella put on my phone called Pinterest. Have you heard of it?"

"Uh, no. I haven't." I shake my head and look inside the bag, grabbing the last donut.

"Well, it has lots of good recipes and ideas people share with one another. I can lose hours on there." She points toward the main living room. "There are books on the shelves, mostly classics, but Bella has more at her place, if you're looking for something to read. I have a relatively large movie collection."

At the suggestion, my mind wonders what Bella's place looks like in comparison to the farmhouse.

I follow Gran into the living room. We stand side by side looking out over the back of the property through the huge picture windows.

"This looks like a park. It's breathtaking." I'm in awe at the dazzling array of colors.

Gran chuckles. "I agree. You should see it in the spring when everything is lush and green. There are trails you are free to hike, but don't be surprised when you see plenty of wildlife. We have wild turkey, deer, and a fox or two who roam the woods regularly. You are welcome to fish the lake too."

"I can't remember ever fishing." I try but can't recall ever going.

"Well, there's a first time for everything. Bella likes to catch and release, but her dad will slip out here and leave with a full string for his wife, Sue, to fry for dinner."

I tense at the thought of casually running into Bella's dad here on the property. Being Chief of Police, I bet he carries a gun, and I don't want to wind up on the wrong side of it.

Gran pulls me from my thoughts as she continues to explain my options. "The pool is heated and at your disposal, but we will close it toward the end of the month before the snow falls. We have a hot tub that feels wonderful year-round, if you can brave the cooler temperatures getting out to it.

"Rosalie mentioned you were looking to get away from everything. So, hopefully, we can fill the bill here. We're simple people, Edward. Sleep in if you want or nap if you feel the need. There is a hammock outside, which can help you while away the hours under a shade tree, if you wish."

"Gran, it all sounds perfect. Exactly what I need," I reassure her. Rosalie nailed this escape.

"We sure like it. I'm almost always in the kitchen cooking something, but you are welcome to whatever you find in the refrigerator, freezer, or pantry. The microwave is here if you find something you would like to reheat. Or just ask and I can pull together a quick meal for you. I want you to feel comfortable, Edward, so if you think of something you need, I'm sure we have it around here somewhere."

I wonder when it will start getting cooler and if I packed the right amount of layers. "As for clothing, I only brought T-shirts and jeans. Will those be enough?"

"If it cools off too much for you, there are men's clothes in one closet upstairs: plaid shirts and jackets, if you need an extra layer. They may be a little large, but should work in a pinch. There are extra blankets up there too, for your bed."

I nod pleased I won't need to worry I'll freeze while I'm here. "Thank you. I think I will go check out your movie collection. Relax a bit."

"Enjoy yourself, and if you need anything, just give me a holler." Gran hustles off to the kitchen, leaving me on my own.

After selecting a classic, The Wizard of Oz, I settle onto the couch, jamming a pillow behind my head. This is one of my favorite movies as Dorothy Gale embarks on an adventure making new friends to help her find her way home. I love the use of sepia tone then the change to Technicolor. It isn't long before my blinks slow and I lose track of the movie.

Waking up in the middle of the night, the television screen is off, and I realize I've fallen asleep on the couch in the living room of my new home for the next month. I'm covered in a soft blanket while a small furball is nestled tightly into my side. As I slowly get my bearings, I stare out the huge windows viewing the clear dark night sky full of stars. It's been a long time since I can remember enjoying simple things like seeing the stars or petting a dog. It's a good feeling.

-OTG-

The next time I wake up I'm in my pitch-dark bedroom. I must have made my way upstairs at some point during the night. I look around for a clock, but see no illuminated digital numbers in any direction, probably by design. Feeling around for a switch on the wall, I trigger opening the automatic blackout shades. As my eyes adjust to the sunshine pouring through the windows, I realize it must be later in the day than I first thought with the sun high in the sky.

I shower and dress, then go in search of Gran and something to eat, wondering if I've missed Bella stopping by to pick up whatever creations Gran made this morning. This thought alone makes me move a little faster down the stairs and to the kitchen to find it empty except for Cooper in his dog bed watching the back door.

"Hey, buddy." Scratching him behind his ears, he leans into my hand, enjoying the attention. "Where is everybody?"

There are pans of baked pastries cooling in trays on the kitchen island, which look like a Hot Pocket of some sort. The clock on the microwave oven tells me it is 2:43 p.m. I've almost slept the entire day away. Grabbing one of the Hot Pockets, I take a bite finding it full of meat and vegetables, then hear voices coming from the front of the house.

I head in that direction, being careful not to make any noise and alert anyone of my presence. You never know who may be around the house or outside. The front windows are open enough to let in the easy fall breeze, which causes the curtains to sway back and forth gently. Bella and Gran are sitting on the porch swing, and I'm about to return to the kitchen when I hear Gran speak, stopping me in my tracks.

"What did he want?"

My curiosity gets the best of me and I wonder who he is?

"He said he was just checking up on his investment," Bella huffs.

I slip into one of the nearby chairs and take another bite, while Cooper sits at my feet, probably hoping a crumb or two will fall his way.

"Since when do bankers do such a thing? I hate that you had to get the renovation loans from him." Gran sounds upset.

Leaning a little closer toward the window, I can see Bella, but only hear Gran.

Bella shrugs. "They offered us the best deal. I had to take it. You know, I'll always do what's best for the farm no matter who is involved with the business at hand. I hope we haven't overextended ourselves for winter."

"Don't worry. We've made the winter payments for the past two years. This winter should be no different. Plus, having Edward here for a full month is great."

Thanks, Gran. I knew she liked me. I wonder if Bella does too?

"You mean the income Edward brings is great. That reminds me; I should take new pictures and update the website again with autumn photos. I hope I can increase our traffic and keep the farmhouse full of guests over the holidays."

Apparently, Bella is focused on the business and not me, as I am on her.

"Did James say anything else?"

He must be the banker.

"Oh, Gran. You know how he is. How he's always been."

"What did he say?" Gran presses for more details.

Bella speaks softer, and I can barely hear her. "He said it looked like I was letting myself go."

Sounds like a jerk.

"Oh, Lord. He hasn't changed one bit."

"You know, when we were together, I was a size 6 and miserable or irritable all the time. He created so much self-doubt in me I barely knew which end was up. Now, I'm a size 16, happier and more confident than I've ever been in my life."

"I always thought the day you broke up with him was the day you lost a good 200 pounds. It sounds like his ego is still bruised. Mark my words, the right guy won't care about your dress size, Bella, just about what's in here."

Gran's hand reaches over and taps on Bella's chest.

"Gran, you and I are a heartier type of woman, which is what it takes to live in this area and do the work we do. Not everyone can handle our winters, which seem to last forever. Chopping wood and plowing snow isn't for the meek."

"True. Farm gals are sturdy, and you, Bella, can easily do the work of three men."

"I think you may overstate the truth now." She chuckles, but switches right back into business-mode. "I need to go over our plowing contracts for the winter and send those out soon. I saw a wooly worm yesterday. Solid white."

"Oh dear. That means more snowfall than normal this winter. The upside is it will be good for our plowing business, keeping Sam and Seth busy all winter. Well, I had better box up Jacob's pasties. How long are they going to be away hunting?"

"I think just for the weekend. Leah has him covered at the brewery, but I may help her by waiting tables on Saturday night when they are swamped from all the river traffic."

The thought of seeing Bella in her element is almost enough to tempt me to venture into town.

"Why don't Leah and Jacob date? They seem like a great match."

"He's not her type."

"Not her type? They work great together," Gran argues.

"Yes, Gran, they do, but I'm more her type. She likes girls."

"Oh." Gran seems at a loss for words until she asks, "Do you?"

"No, and stop worrying about me. I'm into guys, but none from Forksville. I know a little too much about the dating pool here. Anyway, Sam said James is dating that gal Vicki from the flower shop. She's more his type anyway: skinny and naïve."

"What about Edward?" Gran asks.

Finally, back to me.

"What about Edward?" Bella echoes Gran's question.

"Are you interested in him? Is he your type?"

Thank you, Gran. Now we are getting somewhere.

"Oh, please." Bella scoffs. "Gran, he's a movie star. Edward is handsome and charming, which I doubt is news to him. I'm positive he dates women who are a size zero or supermodels. All of those people treat relationships like business deals looking for the right fit for capitalizing on the almighty buck. They have meetings about who would be the right person to push their careers higher and send box office sales soaring. I'm not interested in that person. I want someone who's more down-to-earth. Someone who loves the land and helping people. You know, the rugged type who doesn't care about my size or appearance or what my position in life can do for him. I can be sweaty or dirty with my hair a mess and my nails chipped from hard work, and it won't make any difference."

I can't keep the huge smile off my face. She thinks I'm handsome and charming. I get hung up on her comment, but know I need to focus on her opinions.

What Bella said is true for some people in show business, but not all. And certainly not me. Maybe I'm too thin for her. She's a little intimidating and could probably snap me in half. I'm not really the outdoorsy type, but people can change. I think.

"You know, Jacob—"

Bella stops her line of thought. "Gran, we're business partners. Nothing more. Nothing less. Plus, he's sweet on one of his servers, Vanessa."

Well, that ends my questions about this Jacob guy they keep talking about.

"I'm just saying he's easy on the eyes, is all."

"Sure, Gran. James was too and look where that got me."

"You'll figure it out." Gran pats her knee, her body moving into my view.

Are they coming inside? I need to hurry back to the kitchen, so they don't catch me eavesdropping.

"I don't know, but in the meantime, I've got a farm to run and we're in peak season for getting all the apples harvested before the end of the month."

"Did you at least give James cider and apples to take back to the girls at the bank?"

"I did. Don't worry; he thinks we're all good."

I hear the doorknob turning, and scramble to get to the kitchen as the front door opens, their voices getting louder.

"You are far more polite than I would have been with that man. Will you drop off Jacob's pasties for me?"

I pull out a stool then pop the remaining bite of what is a "pasty" in my mouth, trying to finish it quickly. Cooper is going after the crumbs I drop when the two women walk into the kitchen, and I hurry to swallow what's left in my mouth.

"Sure. Are there any extras?" Bella asks.

"Plenty. Oh, good afternoon, Edward. Did you sleep well?"

I give Gran an easy smile. "Good afternoon. I did, thank you."

"Hey, Edward." Bella pulls out the stool next to mine and takes a seat.

"Bella." I try to play it cool, not acting any more interested in her than I already am. I'm supposed to be here resting and relaxing, not crushing on the resident granddaughter. For goodness sake, I'm a grown man, not a hormonal teenager. Why do I feel like one?

"You should try one of Gran's pasties. They are like a savory hand pie." She reaches over, grabbing one from the tray.

"Sounds interesting. They look like a homemade Hot Pocket." I follow her example and take a bite, trying not to reveal this is my second one.

"They are so much better than those, Edward. They originated in England but common in the UP where miners would carry them underground during their 12-hour workdays mining copper deposits, and loggers did the same with the hearty meal, keeping them fueled all day long."

"UP?" I ask.

"Yes, UP or Upper Peninsula. We also call the people who live in the UP 'Yoopers,' while they call us 'Downstaters,' who live in the Mitten."

"The Mitten?" It's as if she's speaking another language.

Gran holds up her hand with her thumb on the right and points with her other hand. "Everyone who lives in the Mitten or Lower Peninsula uses their hand to show you where they are from in the area. It's like a built-in map. Some folks live in the thumb over along Bay City and the Great Lake Huron, while others live up at the tips of the fingers, near the Traverse City area. They are famous for their cherries."

Suddenly, I realize why that name sounds familiar. "I know of the Traverse City Film Festival. Isn't Michael Moore the founder?"

"That's right. He is. They have the Festival at the end of July and first part of August. It draws a great crowd of movie lovers, like me."

Maybe I've underestimated Gran, and she knows who I am in Hollywood.

"Now, back to the map." She holds up her hand again. "If you go down your pinky, you are on the west side of the state, which also borders the Great Lake Michigan. The sand dunes are a lot of fun over on that side of the state, and people enjoy the beaches there too."

Bella chimes in again. "Don't forget about the skiing up north, Gran. Before you get to Traverse City, there's a region with the area's best skiing around Boyne Mountain. The Mackinac Bridge connects the two peninsulas. It's a wonderful area to explore too. I love Mackinaw fudge, but Gran's fudge she makes around Christmas time is even better."

"Sounds great, but I doubt I will make it off the farm while I'm here." I shake my head—I'm not willing to push the envelope when it comes to my privacy.

"You never know, Edward. We can help you out with a disguise," Gran suggests, "and then you could see other parts of the state. It's really a beautiful place year-round."

"I think it's too risky, and I'm fine to just stay right where I am."

"Now, back to these." Bella holds up her meat pie and further explains with a gleam in her eye. "Their name, pasty, is spelled like the nipple coverings I'm sure you are familiar with, but you pronounce it like 'nasty' instead of 'tasty.' They are commonly filled with meat and root vegetables like potatoes, carrots, and rutabaga, while seasoned with salt and pepper. Most people eat them plain, but others like them with ketchup or gravy."

I take another bite while Gran puts the rest into a box. "Mmmm, they're good."

"I feel like I'm getting lucky with you, Edward. Are there any foods you don't like?" Gran wonders.

I shrug. "Not really. I'll let you know, but so far, everything is delicious. It's nice not to be filled with a constant diet of chicken, fish, steamed vegetables, salad, or fruit, then exercising at the gym twice a day."

Bella stands and pushes in her stool. "I'll go drop those by Jacob's house, then I was thinking about coming back to swim in the pool since it's such a warm afternoon. Is that okay?"

"It's fine by me. Edward, did you want to use the pool too?" Gran asks.

Bella looks embarrassed. "Oh, right. I'm sorry. If you planned to use it, then I'll go another time and you can have it to yourself."

"No, I'll go wander the trails for a while and see the property. I need to get out of the house. Help yourself."

"Okay, if you're sure you don't mind."

"I'm positive."

"Great. I'm off to Jacob's, then I'll be back shortly."

I give her an understanding nod, and almost at once, I'm picturing Bella with a lot less clothing. Gone are the uniformed layers of plaid shirts, jeans, and work boots she wears daily. In their absence are different colored bikinis and revealing one-piece swimsuits.

"Edward."

A slow smile starts as I imagine her curvy hips and full, natural breasts.

"Edward." Gran gives me a knowing grin, as if she can read my mind and realizes how I'm visualizing her granddaughter.

"Oh, sorry. I zoned out for a minute. I think I'll go grab my shoes and head out for a walk."

Gran chuckles. "Okay."

-OTG-

The sound of splashing takes my mind off my throbbing ankle as I hobble along the trail seeing the pool come into view. I hope my slight limp won't be noticeable, because I'm positive Bella or Gran will overreact and have a doctor here at once.

When I finally get to the pool, the sight before me is one I'll remember always: a soaked and nearly naked Bella in a bikini climbing from the pool. Every expectation I've had about seeing her is exceeded as I watch her grab a towel and dry off her luscious curves. I've never been so jealous of a towel in my life.

She looks around and catches sight of me spying on her, but thinks nothing of it, smiling and waving me over.

"Hey, Edward. How was your walk?"

"Good." I try to close the distance between us walking as naturally as possible, but she doesn't miss a thing.

The smile on her face fades. "Are you limping?"

"Uh, don't freak out, but I may have twisted my ankle while I was on the trail. I tripped over some roots and fell." I collapse onto the chaise lounge next to where she's standing.

"Let me check it and see if you broke anything. You've probably just pulled the tendons. Did you hurt anything else when you went down?" She pushes and pulls on my ankle, checking my reactions of each new position, with some being more tender than others are.

I show her my hands. "I caught my fall, but my hands and wrists are okay. A little dirty and a few scrapes, but I'll live. I popped my right knee on a large tree branch across the trail."

"Did you break the skin?" She moves the pant leg up to inspect my knee, but I'm distracted by the fact her cool hands and gentle touch are all over my leg. "It will probably bruise, but I don't think it needs a bandage. Anywhere else?"

My mind immediately goes to the scene in Indiana Jones where Indy has Marion kiss away all of his injuries, and I wonder if I can get Bella to kiss my boo-boos in a similar fashion.

I shake my head and try not to be obvious in my staring at her barely concealed chest while she's bent over my leg. I hope she can't read my mind.

Bella chuckles at catching me, but says nothing as she grabs a stack of towels and props them under my ankle. "I'll go get ice."

"You don't have to—"

"Edward," she warns.

"I'm sure it's fine." I try to convince her, but get nowhere.

"Humor me."

"Don't tell Gran," I say, hoping we can keep my fall between us.

"Do you really think any of us can keep anything from Gran? Trust me. It's better she knows."

I nod and watch her head for the back door, disappearing for a moment, then returning with Gran, Cooper, and another dog trailing behind them.

Gran makes a beeline for me. "Edward! Do I need to call the Doc? Or Rosalie?"

Rosalie doesn't need to know about this. She'll force me to leave and I just got here. "I don't think so. My best guess is I twisted it. I'm sure if I stay off it for a couple of days, I'll be as good as new."

Bella places bags of ice around my ankle and wraps it all in a stretchy bandage holding the ice in place. "We won't take off your shoe, as it will help keep the swelling down, and the ice should decrease it. Fifteen minutes on then fifteen minutes off."

I let out a sigh. "Really, I'm fine. I was able to walk back."

Bella shoots me a look that means this isn't up for negotiation.

I backpedal, conceding to her opinion. "Or I can just sit here with the ice until you say otherwise."

She smiles. "That's better."

When Bella finally has me settled, she pulls a T-shirt over her head, ending my view of her voluptuous breasts, then slides on a pair of shorts leaving her legs exposed, at least that's something. In those shorts, her ass is plump and perfectly rounded, making my hands twitch with a need to reach out and grab or squeeze it.

I close my eyes and let my head fall back against the lounger. Taking several deep breaths, I try to think about anything but Bella, hoping I won't need towels to cover up my growing interest in her.

"I think we have one of those ankle compression sleeves. I'll go see if I can find it." Gran and Cooper head back for the house while Bella takes the seat next to me.

She snaps her fingers. "Come here, Blue."

The dog walks over between our spots then sits next to Bella, giving me a careful who-are-you look.

I squint from the sunset almost disappearing behind the trees then glance in her direction. "Another dog?"

"Yes, this is my buddy, Blue. He's an Australian Shepherd and the best dog ever. I love his blue eyes." Bella wraps an arm around him.

I smile. "Cooper has competition?"

"Cooper stays indoors with Gran most of the time. Blue follows me everywhere, and usually he rides along when I make deliveries in the truck. He's a great farm dog." She rubs his fur around his collar, and he gives her a lick on the face. "Do you have a pet?"

I let out a sad chuckle. "No. I don't even have a home, Bella."

She's shocked by this news. "How can you not have a home?"

I shrug. "I stay in hotels when I'm on location or back in Los Angeles when I need to go to meetings before flying off to my next project."

"So, you never have a place where you can unwind and you're just… I don't know... stuck in a hotel room constantly? Like a prison cell?" By the look on her face, the idea isn't her first choice for accommodations.

"Not really. I had a home when I first started in the business, but I was never there. So, I ended up selling it, and now I stay in a hotel wherever I need one." I haven't thought about buying a home in years—it isn't practical with the amount of travel I do.

"Edward, that's really sad. Where are you from?" she asks.

"Chicago."

"Well, that's not far from here. Do your parents live there?"

"They do, but we have been out of touch for a while. I'm always busy and they have their own lives. I call them occasionally, but no real visits together since I'm usually working and abroad." Fresh guilt weighs heavily on my heart when I think about how our relationship has deteriorated over the years.

"Not even for the holidays?" She tries to find any source of hope.

"Not even then. My assistant sends them presents, but that's it."

Her head shakes. Clearly, she's unable to comprehend another sad aspect of my life. "And they're okay with all of this… movie star lifestyle you live?"

I shrug. "They weren't in the beginning, but they want me to be happy."

"Are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Happy," Bella clarifies.

There it is; the fifty million dollar question. With my annual income exceeding this amount, it isn't the first time I've considered if the tradeoff is worth it. Am I happy?

"I don't know. No?"

Bella nods her understanding. "Which is why you're here."

Is it?

"Maybe. I knew I needed a break, and to find a place where I can breathe again. It felt like I was suffocating with everyone around me constantly. I don't like the crowds, but I don't have a choice. People can track your every move now, and there's always someone there with a camera to catch you in your most vulnerable moments. It's hell, Bella. I didn't sign up for this part of the business, but people rely on me for their jobs now. I make this obscene amount of money, and I'm grateful for that, but what can I do? When can I get off this hamster wheel and say, 'enough'?"

"Do you still enjoy acting?" Her questions pick away at the core of my issues.

Letting out a huge sigh, I wonder if I can answer her truthfully. "I do, but it's always the scheduling of it all. I keep thinking—what if I take a year off? Or two years? Or more. Will I turn into one of those 'what ever happened to…' people? Do I even care?"

"Do you?" she probes.

"I'm thinking I don't. It's not about the money anymore. It's running me ragged. What if I did something else?" I stare up at the changing colors of the sky as the oranges fade into layers of purple and blue.

She leans over petting Blue and considers my question. "Like behind the scenes? A producer or something?"

"No." I grin. "What if I became a farmer?"

Bella snorts out a laugh then reconsiders my option as maybe she misunderstood me. "You mean for a role?"

"No, Bella. Like what you do. Why is that so funny? You're happy. Maybe it's what I need too," I reason, taking the idea more seriously.

"Oh, you're not joking. I'm sorry for laughing, but admit, it's a little funny. You're not very outdoorsy."

I glance at my ankle, trying to move it a little, checking its progress. "Is that a requirement for the job?"

"It helps. Let me think." Bella considers my options, and I'm anxious to hear her opinion. "I know you came here to rest and relax, and now, you're hurt, but we can keep you plenty busy if that's what you want. Work on a farm is never done."

"I'm only hurt temporarily. What would you do if you were injured?"

She looks as if the answer is obvious. "Keep going, of course."

"Exactly," I agree, hoping she won't give up on me.

"Okay, Edward. How about this? I'll give you some jobs here around the farm and we can see how it goes," she bargains.

"Sounds good. Make me a list. I'll even get up early." I wink, trying to charm her a bit into believing I can handle whatever tasks she throws at me.

"Okay, early probably means different things to you from what it does to me. But I won't be able to check on you until late afternoon or early evening, so work at the list at your own pace and try not to get hurt."

A large smile takes over my face as she agrees to put me to work. "I'm excited."

"Remember that you asked for this when you're dirty, sweaty, and stinky," she cautions.

"It will be like training for a role." I try to convince her with a wide grin.

"If you say so. Do you know how to start a fire?" Bella questions.

"Like in the bedroom?" I give her a devilish grin, raising an eyebrow and wondering if Bella is as immune to my charms as she seems to be. "I've been known to leave a few women breathless."

She rolls her eyes. "I have no doubt, but I'm talking about in a fireplace or out here in the fire pit? A real fire, not some fake special effects one."

"I think so." I start making a mental list of everything I may need to pull this off and impress her. One way or another, I'm going to show her I can thrive out here in the middle of the woods. I hope then her opinion of me will change from a flashy movie star to just a man worthy of her attention and maybe someday her affections.

"Okay. Let's pull off the ice on your ankle and you can walk a little to see how it feels. Head over to the fire pit and see if you can't build a fire while I'm gone."

"How long do I have?" I watch her unwrap the stretchy bandage and remove the ice bags.

"This isn't a race. You build a fire and I will go change, since it's getting cooler and I don't want the bugs eating me alive. I'll bring you a surprise too."

"I like surprises." If it means more time with her, I'll agree to almost anything.

"Okay, I'll be right back."

Bella heads indoors with Blue following along behind while I stand and try out my ankle. It's sore, but nothing I can't handle. So, I walk over to the fire pit and survey the supplies nearby.

I grab handfuls of dry leaves and place them in a pile at the center of the pit, then gather all the small sticks I can find stacking them in a "teepee" shape. I'm adding some bigger sticks when I hear Bella exit the back door.

Looking up, I see she's bundled in jeans and a jacket, exchanging her flip-flops from the pool for her sturdy work boots. She's also carrying a basket filled with something.

"Where's the fire, Edward?" she asks in a teasing tone, handing me something. "Here's the compression sleeve for your ankle. If you ever hurt yourself like this again, remember, 'I-C-E': ice, compression, and elevate. It will speed up your recovery."

"Okay, got it, and I was just getting ready to light it." I reach over and grab the lighter. After a quick flick, I use the flame to start the leaves on fire. When they catch, I stand back and wait for it to build.

"I'm impressed." Bella's skepticism wanes.

"You should be," I tease, but think I should come clean. "I played a castaway once. So, building a fire was a necessary skill at the beginning of the movie, but then special effects took over for the rest of the film."

"You weren't a boy scout?" she asks.

"Not in the slightest." The smaller twigs and sticks catch fire and I add some bigger pieces of wood from the stack nearby.

"Well, I brought you a treat: s'mores," Bella says excitedly.

"I can't remember the last time I had one. Maybe on a sleepover when I was a little kid."

She grabs her chest, making a dramatic gesture. "Do you only have tragic stories? You're breaking my heart."

I grin. "Do you want me to tell you a ghost story? I know a few of those."

"I'll pass. I don't do scary or horror. There's enough tragedy in the world and I need to sleep. Work tomorrow for us non movie star types. Here, take a stick and a marshmallow."

"You don't take off on the weekends?" I put the marshmallow on the end of the stick and hold it near the flames.

"Not when the demand is high and we have plenty left to harvest. It will be a busy month while you're here." She hands me two graham cracker squares and a piece of milk chocolate. "Those are for when you're ready."

"Got it." I set them on the arm of my Adirondack chair. "Maybe I can help then. Picking apples or whatever you do."

"Are you saying I should give Sam and Seth a day off and you'll pick up the slack?"

"I think if you're there showing me what to do then it's a possibility."

"Hmmm. I'll think about it." Bella pulls her perfectly toasted marshmallow from the fire and squeezes it between the chocolate and graham crackers.

"You do that and leave me your list. I'm confident I'll be able to impress you with my skills and adaptability." My marshmallow catches on fire and I blow it out before it turns to char.

"Adaptability?"

"Yes, it's a special skill of mine. Some people call me the Chameleon." I grin at having just thought up the name.

"I don't think I've ever heard anyone call you that." She's quick to call me out.

"Well, they should."

"Just eat your s'more, Edward. It sounds like you will need your strength. And plenty of rest too."

I don't like the sound of that.

-OTG-

I'm exhausted. But it's a good exhaustion. The kind you get from hard work and a job well done. For the past four weeks, I've stepped up and completed every challenge Bella's thrown at me. I think mowing the grass around the bed and breakfast may be my favorite weekly task, but the others have kept me busy too. I've painted the outside of an entire barn, tended to winterizing the garden for Gran, and split so much wood I can consider myself an expert.

Ginger oversaw my every move, and when she approved, dropped a dead mouse at my feet. On second thought, I'm not sure if it was acceptance at my presence or a threat at what she's capable of, but she let me pet her whenever I was on a break and we formed our own bond.

Spending so much time outside has been liberating. I feel stronger and more content. Gran's cooking has filled me out a little too, as my pants are feeling tighter. But not once have I felt nervous or stressed to where I wanted a cigarette, which is a win in my book.

The best part of everything has been Mondays. Bella gave Sam and Seth the day off for every week I was here in October, telling them she had temporary help she wanted to use and give them a break. I think they were skeptical until they saw how much we could complete together on those days.

We've gathered loads and loads of apples and pumpkins. I've learned to drive the tractor and run the apple press, creating gallons and gallons of precious cider. I have to admit I'm hooked on the cider, the farm, and working with Bella.

And watching Bella's daily swims from my bedroom window. I had no idea how fortunate the decision to take the blue bedroom would be until she started using the pool regularly. After a great amount of study, I've concluded her pink bikini is my favorite, but the black one comes in a close second. I know I'm a creeper for watching her swim, but I don't care. I'm like a moth to a flame with little self-control, as I always need to shower and relieve the Bella-effect from my end of the day spy sessions. Sometimes, I join Bella by the pool afterward since it's the only way I can be around her physically without embarrassing myself.

"Edward, are you finished?" Gran asks.

"Oh." I look down at my plate, finding it empty.

"Did you want more?"

"Sorry, I was thinking over my time here. No thanks. I'm good."

"My husband always loved chicken and dumplings with biscuits. After a hard day's work he could eat the whole pot!" She chuckles.

"I understand why. It was delicious, Gran. Thank you."

"Are you excited to be getting back to your movie star life in a few days?"

"Uh, I know the answer is supposed to be 'yes,' but it really feels like a 'no.' I haven't felt so light and carefree in years, and that's because of my time here. I don't want to lose that feeling, you know?"

"I understand. Would my granddaughter have anything to do with that as well?"

I can't stop the huge grin that spreads across my face when I think of Bella. "She's—"

Everything.

Sunshine and wildflowers in the morning.

Soft comforting breezes in the afternoon.

Nourishment and laughter in the evening.

A million tiny sparks lighting up the night sky.

A glimmer of hope in my world.

I will not be the same after this.

I don't know how to hang on to her or whatever this is that I feel growing between us. It's something special.

"You'll figure it out," Gran reassures.

"What if I don't? It's clear Bella's life is here. And my life is not something she would ever embrace. It would drown her spirit like it's drowning me."

"Life is always about compromise, Edward. You have a lifetime full of possibilities at your feet. Don't let a good thing that could be something great slip away."

"Knock, knock. Hey, you two—" Bella pauses, looking between us. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Not at all, sweetheart. What brings you by?" Gran gives her a warm smile.

"I've got a surprise for Edward." Bella turns to me. "I know you're leaving on Saturday, but we can risk leaving the farm on Friday night. I brought you a costume." Bella hands me a large bag. "Are we still on for carving pumpkins tomorrow?"

"Absolutely, it's tradition." Gran removes my dishes from my spot, adding them to the dishwasher.

"Where are we going?" I ask.

"I thought you liked surprises?" She grins.

"Okay, what's my costume?" I pull from the bag a pair of brown sweatpants, a dark blue sweatshirt with a tan-colored hood connected to a fringed tan collar, and a floppy black hat. All the openings for the hands and feet are jagged with more openings cut at various spots in both pieces. "A scarecrow?"

"Not just any scarecrow. The one from The Wizard of Oz. I will dress up like Dorothy, then we'll coordinate."

My mind races back to my first night here. I wonder if it was Bella who found me after I fell asleep on the couch while watching the movie, or if it was Gran who told her and covered me with the blanket. Either way, I'm excited for this chance to dress up as a character and have fun with Bella.

"If I Only Had a Brain?" I smirk, teasing Bella with her choice for me.

"Well, you have plenty of courage after all the tasks I've put you through. So, I passed on the Cowardly Lion; plus, that would have been more than my skills allowed. The Tin Man would require silver makeup, which I didn't want to risk you having any reaction to it. Which left us with the only choice available: the Scarecrow. The makeup should be easy too."

"It's been a long time since I did my makeup." I remember first starting out my career when we handled our own hair and makeup, which seems like a lifetime ago.

"I'm sure Gran can help you if you need it. The extra holes are where we can jam hay in your costume like a real scarecrow."

"Okay, and you'll be Dorothy with braided pigtails?" I start picturing Bella as Dorothy.

"Absolutely. I have my blue-checked dress and ruby red slippers ready to go. It will be dark, so I doubt anyone will recognize you."

"But they may recognize you," I remind her.

"And if they do, I'll handle it. You've been here an entire month, and nobody's the wiser. Stop worrying, Edward. It will be fine, and you may have fun."

Two days later, we're standing in the middle of a cornfield, trying to find our way through a corn maze in the dark, while teenagers pay us little attention shrieking and racing by. It's nearly midnight, and the light of the full moon and Bella's flashlight are our only help as we stumble along the path.

Shaking my head, I lean over next to Bella, lowering my voice, "No one cares."

"See, I told you." She grabs my hand, pulling me along, but I pause looking around as we face another choice of which way to go. Bella decides for us, choosing the path on the left. "This way."

"Are you always right?" I'm trying to recall a time when she didn't have the correct answer and come up blank.

"No, but not willing to make a decision can be paralyzing for some people. I would rather make one and be wrong than never to take a risk and miss out on the chance in selecting the right one."

I follow along after her. "This is fun and everything, but I'm getting a little winded. How long have we been in the maze? I'm sweating."

"Not long. Maybe forty-five minutes, tops." She spins, thinking about which path to take when three present themselves.

"What if we can't find our way out? Did you ever see the movie Children of the Corn?" I make my voice sound spooky. "The children in a small town form this religious cult led by 'He Who Walks Behind the Rows' and they kill everyone over the age of eighteen. Human sacrifices ensure a successful harvest."

Bella shakes her head, causing her braided pigtails to swing back and forth. "What a horrible thought. Edward, I told you, I don't do horror. I didn't watch that movie. Who thinks of these things?"

"Stephen King."

"I doubt I've seen any of his movies then."

"What about The Shawshank Redemption?" I question.

"Okay, I've seen that one, and don't worry, I get how appropriate it is to our current situation when it's about escaping prison, and here we are lost in a corn maze with little hope for finding our way out."

I look up at the clear, night sky thinking how her words also ring true to my current month-long stay with her and Gran. I've been trying to escape, but my time is up, and I must return to my job and responsibilities soon. The realization threatens my light, happy mood.

We end up in at a dead end, but I keep Bella from heading in another direction, hoping for a moment alone. "Hold on a minute."

Another group of teenagers goes racing by our location, yelling the names of their friends, and I wait for their voices to fade away.

"What is it?" she asks, concern marring her beautiful features.

"I don't know if I'll be alone with you again before I leave in a few hours, but thank you for everything. This has been an amazing month, and I've enjoyed getting to know you and Gran. Your lives here in Michigan and on the farm are like a breath of fresh air in my world. I will miss you. I don't know if you feel the same way, but I feel this undeniable attraction between us. I know it isn't fair to dump this on you before I leave, but I want you to know I wish things were different."

Her hand reaches up to cup my bearded cheek. "Edward, this has been a wonderful month for me too, but we live in two different worlds. I don't fit in yours. I would never aspire to a lifestyle like that. I like my privacy, and it's understandable you're missing it too. I'm glad you could find peace here, if only for a little while."

"Would it be okay if we stayed in contact? I know I have commitments when I return, but maybe we could call or text?" I ask, hoping she will extend me this olive branch.

"Sure. I'll make sure you have my number before you leave." She smiles.

I grin, but know there's one more thing I need.

Pulling off my hat and pushing back the hood of my costume, I reach for Bella's hand, bringing her close, then wrapping my hands around her waist.

"I need—" My head moves closer to hers until our lips are almost touching. "To ask for one more thing." My beating heart and ragged breathing speeds up with excitement over a kiss I've been wanting for a month.

Bella nods, her eyes almost closing as short breaths escape her lips. Her hands weave their way into my hair, pulling me closer, until our lips are pressed together in a tentative kiss.

It's sweet and simple, but I want more, going back for another with a little more determination. A kiss that starts out as shy and tender quickly morphs into something more sure and confident, as Bella meets each one with her own insistence.

In the history of movie star kisses, this one feels monumental, as my body vibrates with a new energy when we eventually break away.

"Let's get out of here." I gasp and pant then leave one more crushing kiss on her lips.

"Isn't that what we've been trying to do?" She giggles while I pull my hood back up and add my hat, ready to make our escape.

"Not really. I've just been following along, but now, I have a new motivation, as I would like to keep kissing you until I have to leave. Is that okay with you?"

"You have no idea, Mr. Scarecrow."

A bit of hope blooms in my heart that maybe the feeling between us is finally mutual.

"Dorothy, we need to leave before we make a scene and taint The Wizard of Oz in front of all these teenagers."

She chuckles. "I doubt they would mind."

"Okay, maybe it's not them. Maybe it's me we're tainting. I've never had Dorothy fantasies before, but you're giving me all kinds of ideas and I'm trying to be a gentleman," I plead.

"I guess we need to follow the yellow brick road… in the dark."

"If only it were that easy. Do you still have your flashlight?" I look around, trying to figure out how we need to backtrack.

Bella gives me a friendly shove. "No, I dropped it when you were making me see stars."

I'm surprised to learn my effect on her, since she always seems immune to my flirting. "Really, stars?"

"Oh, Edward, the only star I see is you. How about I click my heels together?" She laughs.

"I hate to break it to you, but that's movie magic."

"Even the part where Dorothy says, 'There's no place like home...'?"

"No, she got that part right," I agree with a heavy heart.

Because I know, if I had a home, I would want it to be with Bella.

-OTG-

The goodbyes were bittersweet, but I'm glad I stole those kisses in the middle of the cornfield under the light of the full moon. I doubt there are any myths or legends about full moon kisses, but I can only hope they felt as magical for her as they did for me.

When we emerged from the maze, we hurried back to the bed and breakfast where we both changed out of our costumes and removed our makeup. We spent our remaining time together kissing on the front porch swing, while waiting for my ride and my re-entry into another world.

Bella gave me a Detroit Tigers baseball cap embroidered with the Old English 'D'. I can wear it to let her know I'm thinking of her, she said; which I will do, hoping she will see any photographs taken of me knowing she's never far from my mind.

I'm rubbing the decent beard I've grown over the past month with a bit of melancholy knowing it will have to go soon, when there's a knock on my hotel room door.

"Edward, it's fantastic to see you! You look great," Rosalie exclaims when I let her in.

"Here." I hold out a pink bakery box for her.

"What's this?" She opens it to find her favorites. "Oh! Gran is the sweetest. If I eat these cookies, I must add an extra hour to my daily workout. But they are so worth it."

I smile because I have my own box full of cookies, and a large bag of apples. My favorite: honey crisp. Looking in the bottom of the bakery bag Gran handed me before I left, I find two business cards. The first says "A Taste of Home Catering" with Gran's phone number, while the second is for "Wildflower Farms Bed and Breakfast" with Bella's phone number handwritten on the back. I safely store the two cards in my wallet and tune back into what Rosalie is saying.

"So, nine o'clock meeting on Monday with the studio, followed by a visit with Jasper. He said we could stop by before noon. Here's the script the director sent over for you. The first thirty pages need memorized before you're on set Monday night. It's a late night shoot, so you will probably finish after sunrise. You'll get about five hours then you need to be back on set for the rest of the day Tuesday. Wednesday you have a fitting then photo shoot in the morning, then back on set—"

She doesn't stop, and the feeling I've been trying to escape for the last month is back full force. My heart pounds, and there's a tightening of my chest as I move toward the balcony. Hoping some fresh air will help, I stand in the doorway and look up into the blue sky. I try to take deep breaths, but can never seem to catch my full breath. Sweat breaks out across my skin as I move to a chair nearby, feeling lightheaded, knowing I should sit down.

"Edward, are you listening?" Rosalie pauses.

"Yes, keep going. I need to sit down. I'm not feeling so good suddenly."

"Maybe you should lie down on the bed. A nap would probably be good after your flight. Order food. I'll stop back tomorrow. How about around one, and we can grab lunch together then go over our plan of attack for the next month?"

"Okay, sounds great." This is a lie because it doesn't sound great at all.

"Oh, and here's your phone. Did you miss it?" She holds out the lifeline in my direction.

"Nope." But now I do. I can't wait for her to leave. I will add two very important numbers to my contacts.

She walks toward the door. "Okay, see you tomorrow."

I wave, and Rosalie disappears with her box of cookies from my hotel room.

Wasting no time, I take out my wallet, finding Bella's number, adding it to my phone. I can't resist the temptation and wait for it to connect.

"Hello?"

I let out a sigh of relief as the tightness in my chest immediately subsides and I can finally take a deep breath. "Hey."

"Edward?"

"Yeah, I'm back in Los Angeles. I needed to hear your voice. I hope it's okay I called."

"Sure. Missing all the hard work?"

"No, just you. I'm feeling a little like Dorothy caught up in the tornado already. My head is spinning."

"That was quick and sounds serious. What about seeing a doctor? Or a therapist? One of them may help you sort it all out."

"I'll think about it, but just hearing your voice is making me feel better. What did you do after I left?"

-OTG-

The weeks of November and December continue in much the same way with my calls and texts from Bella the only bright spot. I work constantly with little sleep, less food, and plenty of exercise to lose the ten pounds I gained from my time off in October.

The director, Aro Volturi, I've waited years to work with, doesn't like a single take I do. He's always attacking me personally and professionally, claiming I need him more than he needs me. According to him, I'm easily replaceable and was never his first choice. The abuse by this man to the cast and crew leaves me seething most days because his insults are endless.

"Cut! This is ridiculous! Edward, you have as much passion as a limp noodle, and Jane, you are nothing but a cold fish. This is not working. You have zero chemistry. We are only wasting everyone's time and money. I don't know why we have continued this long. Go home. I will replace you with actors who want these roles."

"Mr. Volturi, wait! I need this job." Jane goes running after Volturi as he disappears from the set.

I storm off to my dressing room, slamming my door when I get there.

"What the hell, Edward? Why are you here so early? I thought you had hours left." Rosalie looks up from her phone.

I pace back and forth. "Apparently, I'm fired and the past six weeks have been a complete waste. Call Jasper. This has to be some kind of breach of contract on Volturi's part."

"What the hell happened?"

"Aro Volturi happened. He's such a spineless jackass!" I shout.

The devil himself bursts through my door.

"Oh, shit. I'm texting Emmett." Rosalie taps away on her phone.

Volturi's face is beet red as he moves forward, eyes bulging while he rants. "Why are you still here? You're fired! Get out! What a disgrace. You're pitiful. I thought I was getting a movie star, but what I got was a pathetic, burned-out actor. The rumors about you are true. The Academy will never award you an Oscar and we will never work together again. You're finished!" His finger stabs at my chest.

"Everyone calm down and take a step back," Rosalie warns, moving between us.

I grab his shirt, pulling him close so he doesn't miss a single one of my threats.

"Edward, let him go!" she pleads.

"Listen here, you piece of shit. I've turned down plenty of work for the opportunity to work with you. And trust me; I won't make that mistake again. You definitely weren't worth the wait, and I'll be the first to share what an unprofessional fucker you are with everyone I know. You'll be hearing from my lawyer."

"If you aren't behind bars first, go ahead. Take a swing. I'll end your career with one phone call," he spits.

We stare each other down as Emmett enters the room. "Edward, we need to go."

Volturi lets out a sinister laugh. "Good luck to you, Edward Cullen. You'll need it."

"Asshole." I release his shirt from my grip, shoving him to the side.

Rosalie and Emmett guide me from the room before I beat the shit out of the little weasel and land myself in jail for the night or longer. We hurry past the crew and out to the parking lot where Emmett has a car waiting.

-OTG-

"Are you going to let me read it? I can't focus if you keep talking," Rosalie asks, standing in the doorway between my hotel suite and the balcony.

"Whatever. It hasn't been twenty-four hours, and this is just one of several articles." I light up another cigarette, hoping the nicotine will eventually soothe my frazzled nerves, and stare out at the smog-covered city from my perch.

She reads aloud. "'According to Hollywood Insider, actor Edward Cullen unexpectedly left the filming of Aro Volturi's latest film, Dead Inside, leaving the production in peril. Cast and crew share there were many tense moments between Cullen and Volturi, unsettling everyone during filming. 'Edward just lost it,' one source claims, while another confirmed recent rumors surrounding the successful movie star. 'He's in trouble and spiraling out of control. Let's hope he gets help before it's too late.' Volturi is known for his edgy, avant-garde style, producing cult classics, The Devil Knows Your Brother and When the Buried Speak. Neither Cullen nor Volturi could be reached for comment, but we've learned Cullen's role has been recast by new up-and-coming actor Felix Gagliardi.'"

"Can you believe that shit? Why isn't Jasper doing anything? There was a contract; I can't just be 'fired.' That bastard, Volturi, is trying to ruin my career, acting as though I'm the problem. He's behind that."

"Even if he is, you can't give him anymore ammunition. You've got to get yourself under control and let Jasper do his job." She huffs. "I can't believe you're smoking again. You told me you quit."

"I did, but ever since I've been working with Volturi, I can't stop. He leaves me full of self-doubt. Fuck! You're right. What the fuck am I doing?" I stub out the rest of my cigarette. "I need to run an errand."

"Run an errand? I don't think it's a good idea. Tell me what you need and I'll go get it for you," Rosalie urges.

"I'm just going to the grocery store."

Her head is shaking as she tries to stand between the exit and me. "This is a bad idea. At least take Emmett with you."

"It's his day off."

"He won't care. I'll call him."

"I'm going." Grabbing my hat and sunglasses, I hope to keep curiosity seekers away on this short trip.

"Edward, wait! How are you going to get there?"

"Walk." I push past her.

"You can't—"

I whirl around, my anger reaching new heights. "Rosalie, stop telling me what I can and can't do. I'm a grown man for God's sake."

I open the door then let it slam shut when I step out into the hallway. Bypassing the elevator, I take the stairs.

I'm so sick of being micromanaged, and now I have to deal with that bastard Volturi trying to blacklist me, claiming I'm difficult to work with. He's so full of shit. I'm on time and always prepared. I do as asked, but he's impossible. Then to start rumors I'm on my way down and imply I have a drug or alcohol problem—complete grade-A bullshit.

I'm not so unaware to notice the handful of people with cameras following me when I finally make it to the store. Grabbing a basket, I take a few deep breaths despite already being at my limit with people. Looking around the store, I head to the produce, but don't find what I'm looking for there. So, I ask a nearby worker.

"Excuse me; do you have any honey crisp apples? I don't see them among the varieties."

"Nope. They are a seasonal item." The young teen wearing a dirty white apron while restocking oranges never looks up.

I let out a disappointed sigh. "What about unpasteurized cider?"

He shakes his head. "Same thing. We're out. There's apple juice on aisle 2 and hard cider on aisle 10."

I'm already shaking my head, agitated by the suggestions. "Not the same. Forget it. What about Hot Pockets?"

"We don't carry that brand, but there are a few organic, non-GMO versions in the frozen case."

I groan. "Frozen? Never mind."

Stalking over to the deli section, I look at their pre-made foods. I'm not hungry but hope to find comfort there. I need something.

"Can I help you?" A young woman smiles when our eyes meet.

I ask for the first thing that comes to mind. "Do you have any clam chowder?"

She points at a sign listing the soups available. "Nope, today's soups are gumbo and split pea."

My palms start sweating as my eyes roam the case in front of me for anything familiar. "What about chicken and dumplings?"

She lights up at my question. "We have Asian pork dumplings with spicy chicken stir fry on special this week. They're delicious."

I'm already shaking my head before she can finish trying to sell me on some overpriced Asian food. "Not the same. Is that macaroni and cheese?"

"Yes, a popular seller. It's vegan, nut-free, and gluten-free. We use sweet potato and cauliflower. Would you like a sample?" She reaches for a small cup.

I slam my hands down in frustration on the counter, causing her to jump backward and drop the plastic cup. I'm barely hanging on by a thread at this point. "Do you have anything that isn't vegan? When did everyone decide nuts and gluten were bad things? Fuck. I need real food. Do you have any of that?"

"Uh… maybe there's something in the baker—" she suggests, but I cut her off.

"Fuck. Just forget it." I head for the exit, leaving my basket with the others, and notice a large crowd on the sidewalk who pounce once I make it through the doors.

"Edward, is it true? Are you headed to rehab?" Someone grabs my arm, as the nonstop click of cameras whirl all around me.

I shrug them off and head in a different direction, walking faster when I feel a hand on my shoulder. I spin around and growl, "Don't touch me."

A flash goes off, making me wonder where I left my sunglasses, probably somewhere back at the store.

"Were you fired from Volturi's film?" someone shouts, as more cameras and phones are shoved in my face.

"Edward, can I get your autograph or a photo?" A teen smiles up at me, as if this is the appropriate time to ask in light of my current predicament.

My pounding heart feels like an anvil in my chest, and I put my hand over it, rubbing the spot, hoping to ease the tension.

"Get back. I'm warning you." I gasp between breaths and start a light jog away from the crowd. I feel like I may collapse any minute, but they're relentless as their questions and pursuit continue.

"Are the rumors true? Are you leaving Hollywood and moving back home to Chicago?" another voice asks.

I look around for a building where I can escape inside, but nothing looks familiar, and now there's a crowd in front of me closing in as if they're cornering their prey.

"No comment." I shove through the crowd, trying to flee by crossing the street, when a car slams on its brakes nearly hitting me, leaving me bent over at the waist and nauseated.

The questions don't stop. "What about the love triangle? Did you catch Aro and Jane in his office like the rumors claim? Are you jealous she's still part of his production?"

I run a trembling hand through my hair and bend one knee to the ground, trying to shake off the unsteadiness settling into my legs. Sweat is running down my forehead as my heart picks up its pace, beating rapidly.

"Fuck." I heave, knowing I'm in trouble.

I need to figure a way out of this, but I can't remember how to get back to the hotel. My hands tingle while the blood pounding in my ears gets louder—thump-thump, thump-thump. My mouth is dry and swallowing is impossible.

A commanding voice overpowers the hum of the crowd. "Step back, everyone." Large hands grab me by the arms and guide me into a waiting car. I'm so lightheaded now my vision is blurry and I can't breathe, grabbing my throat when it feels like I'm choking.

"Can you hear me, Edward? It's okay. We're going to the hospital. Listen to my voice." A hand rubs my arm, but the voice can hardly conceal its panic. "Try to take a deep breath. Hurry, Em."

"Have him put his head between his knees," another deeper voice suggests.

"I c-can't." I gasp, clutching my chest.

The words of whoever is talking sound like they're yelling in a tunnel and I can't understand a single one. I lean back against the cool seat of the vehicle, but my eyes won't focus and nothing looks familiar. I want to lie down, but I have no idea where I am or who I'm with in this vehicle. My eyes are heavy, wanting to close, and black spots cloud my vision until eventually I succumb to the darkness threatening to take me under. I float away from all the chaos, feeling at peace for the first time since I left the farm and Bella.

A/N: Let me know what you think. New chapters will start tomorrow. You can find inspirational photos for Off the Grid in my Facebook group, Kay Richard's Bonfire. Thank you for reading. xx