(no subject)
The dishes were just nearly finished when Leah heard the scratch of tires on the gravel driveway and the rumble of an engine. Nudging the curtains aside with a soapy fork she glanced out the window to see Embry swinging his leg over the motorcycle now parked in front of her house. After a moment, she let the curtains fall back and went back to the dishes.
Usually, Seth did the dishes after she cooked breakfast for them and Sue, but today Brady and Collin had invited him out so Leah had offered to take over his chores for him. Sue had already left to drive Billy to Charlie's house and the three of them we apparently heading to Seattle. To be honest Leah hadn't been the least bit interested in what the adults were doing.
"What's for breakfast?" Embry asked by way of a hello as he walked through the door, shaking out his hair like a shaggy dog. Leah had to fight tooth and nail against the urge to flick soap at him, the image of a shaggy Embry shaking off soap bubbles was enough to make her giggle as she answered him.
"The usual."
Embry grinned as he flopped loose limbed in one of the kitchen chairs, legs splayed every which way like he was a human rag doll. The La Push version of Raggedy Andy. "Filet mignon?"
Again, she laughed as she answered, reaching out of the soapy water to toss him a small blue box. "Pop-tarts."
"Sweet!"
Something about his relaxed posture, even as he snaked his hand out to snap up the box, made her jealous. She'd never be able to achieve that state of Zen that Embry had practically come to master. She was too stressed, all the time, too worried -- about Seth and Sue and Jacob and the Pack, even Sam still. Embry was like a particularly well-oiled duck, letting life roll off his back like water; while Leah was like a cheetah, constantly poised to attack.
Turning back to the dishes, she focused on scrubbing that morning's eggs off the pans. The company had advertised it as no stick but Leah was constantly setting a scouring pad to it, so she was starting to believe it was false advertising. And, naturally, if she focused on the pan then she wouldn't be focused on Embry sitting at her kitchen table eating the last of the blueberry pop-tarts. She'd have to make a note to buy more before Seth found out and spent an entire morning complaining to her.
"So I was thinking," he began slowly, chewing thoughtfully on the edge of one of the pastries.
Smirking, Leah tossed her hair over her shoulders as she turned to him. "Oh? Should I be worried? Do you want me to call for medical assistance, Seth has Dr Cullen on speed dial."
With a low deep rumble of a laugh, slow and smooth like honey, Embry grinned, shaking his head slowly as the smile lit up his features. "Cute, Leah."
She shrugged, still smirking with an unspoken I try.
"We should go for a ride," he finished. "You, me, the bike, whaddya say?" He used the pop-tart to motion between them the same way she often used cooking utensils when talking to Seth while she was cooking and he was being in her way.
Not answering at first, Leah finished the dishes; using the time spent drying them to think. It wasn't that she didn't want to -- aside from being terrified of the actual idea of riding a motorcycle -- but she always felt off-kilter with Embry. He set everything on its side and left her confused, off center. She hated the loss of control, but at the same time... It was a rush, the feeling of falling like when Jacob had taken her cliff jumping for the first time.
If she was perfectly honest with herself, which she rarely was because it still hurt, Embry reminded her of the best parts of being with Sam. The easy banter, the calmness surrounding them, the way she didn't have to try.
"Come on," he said after a moment, suddenly standing behind her and lifting her hands out of the water. Taking a dishtowel off the counter, he held her hands between his and began drying them for her. She didn't even make a move to take her hands back, just watched. When he was finished, he let one hand drop and kept the other firmly in his own, leading her out of the house gently.
He thought he should have been surprised by her willingness, but then again their relationship consisted of a constant give and take. He took her ice-skating and she let him pick the movie. He sat through one of her television shows and she made him his favorite meal. She went for a ride with him on his bike and he'd... do something for her later. It was a steady hand off of the baton, a race to nothing where he didn't care who the winner was.
It was, quite simply, nice.
With the bike looming ahead, he felt her stiffen, put on her game face. "Okay," she said, swinging her leg over the bike the way she'd seen him do it when he'd gotten off. Once settled she scooted back, making room for him. "Where do I put my feet?"
Grinning, Embry leaned down to extend the back pegs, moving her feet to rest against them. "Watch out for the exhaust pipe. It gets wicked hot and if you get burned I'm not going to listen to you complain."
Laughing, Leah shrugged, lifting her hand in a mock salute. "Sounds wonderful. What about my hands?"
Picking up the spare helmet, he tugged it on her head, gently securing the chinstrap before tightening it. She had a lovely head; he felt the need to protect it. Sliding on in front of her, he turned back slightly, just so she could see the way his lips lifted into a smile. "They'll be around me, of course."
"If you were any smoother, I probably wouldn't even be able to hold on, would I?" she teased, placing her hands very firmly on his hips. Yet for all that, the moment he kicked the bike alive her arms flew around his waist.
Smooth.
Usually, Seth did the dishes after she cooked breakfast for them and Sue, but today Brady and Collin had invited him out so Leah had offered to take over his chores for him. Sue had already left to drive Billy to Charlie's house and the three of them we apparently heading to Seattle. To be honest Leah hadn't been the least bit interested in what the adults were doing.
"What's for breakfast?" Embry asked by way of a hello as he walked through the door, shaking out his hair like a shaggy dog. Leah had to fight tooth and nail against the urge to flick soap at him, the image of a shaggy Embry shaking off soap bubbles was enough to make her giggle as she answered him.
"The usual."
Embry grinned as he flopped loose limbed in one of the kitchen chairs, legs splayed every which way like he was a human rag doll. The La Push version of Raggedy Andy. "Filet mignon?"
Again, she laughed as she answered, reaching out of the soapy water to toss him a small blue box. "Pop-tarts."
"Sweet!"
Something about his relaxed posture, even as he snaked his hand out to snap up the box, made her jealous. She'd never be able to achieve that state of Zen that Embry had practically come to master. She was too stressed, all the time, too worried -- about Seth and Sue and Jacob and the Pack, even Sam still. Embry was like a particularly well-oiled duck, letting life roll off his back like water; while Leah was like a cheetah, constantly poised to attack.
Turning back to the dishes, she focused on scrubbing that morning's eggs off the pans. The company had advertised it as no stick but Leah was constantly setting a scouring pad to it, so she was starting to believe it was false advertising. And, naturally, if she focused on the pan then she wouldn't be focused on Embry sitting at her kitchen table eating the last of the blueberry pop-tarts. She'd have to make a note to buy more before Seth found out and spent an entire morning complaining to her.
"So I was thinking," he began slowly, chewing thoughtfully on the edge of one of the pastries.
Smirking, Leah tossed her hair over her shoulders as she turned to him. "Oh? Should I be worried? Do you want me to call for medical assistance, Seth has Dr Cullen on speed dial."
With a low deep rumble of a laugh, slow and smooth like honey, Embry grinned, shaking his head slowly as the smile lit up his features. "Cute, Leah."
She shrugged, still smirking with an unspoken I try.
"We should go for a ride," he finished. "You, me, the bike, whaddya say?" He used the pop-tart to motion between them the same way she often used cooking utensils when talking to Seth while she was cooking and he was being in her way.
Not answering at first, Leah finished the dishes; using the time spent drying them to think. It wasn't that she didn't want to -- aside from being terrified of the actual idea of riding a motorcycle -- but she always felt off-kilter with Embry. He set everything on its side and left her confused, off center. She hated the loss of control, but at the same time... It was a rush, the feeling of falling like when Jacob had taken her cliff jumping for the first time.
If she was perfectly honest with herself, which she rarely was because it still hurt, Embry reminded her of the best parts of being with Sam. The easy banter, the calmness surrounding them, the way she didn't have to try.
"Come on," he said after a moment, suddenly standing behind her and lifting her hands out of the water. Taking a dishtowel off the counter, he held her hands between his and began drying them for her. She didn't even make a move to take her hands back, just watched. When he was finished, he let one hand drop and kept the other firmly in his own, leading her out of the house gently.
He thought he should have been surprised by her willingness, but then again their relationship consisted of a constant give and take. He took her ice-skating and she let him pick the movie. He sat through one of her television shows and she made him his favorite meal. She went for a ride with him on his bike and he'd... do something for her later. It was a steady hand off of the baton, a race to nothing where he didn't care who the winner was.
It was, quite simply, nice.
With the bike looming ahead, he felt her stiffen, put on her game face. "Okay," she said, swinging her leg over the bike the way she'd seen him do it when he'd gotten off. Once settled she scooted back, making room for him. "Where do I put my feet?"
Grinning, Embry leaned down to extend the back pegs, moving her feet to rest against them. "Watch out for the exhaust pipe. It gets wicked hot and if you get burned I'm not going to listen to you complain."
Laughing, Leah shrugged, lifting her hand in a mock salute. "Sounds wonderful. What about my hands?"
Picking up the spare helmet, he tugged it on her head, gently securing the chinstrap before tightening it. She had a lovely head; he felt the need to protect it. Sliding on in front of her, he turned back slightly, just so she could see the way his lips lifted into a smile. "They'll be around me, of course."
"If you were any smoother, I probably wouldn't even be able to hold on, would I?" she teased, placing her hands very firmly on his hips. Yet for all that, the moment he kicked the bike alive her arms flew around his waist.
Smooth.