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When Rosalie Marcum moves to Seattle she vows to make a new start, to take control and make some changes. Her first brave adventure doesn't quite go as planned, but is certain to change her world forever. "I've not had any woman look at me the way you do," he whispers, voice husky. "I think you've been walking around with your eyes closed Jake," I laugh, raising my eyebrows at him, full of scepticism. His cheeky smile makes a timely appearance. "Oh, yeah, well, there's plenty of that." Modest as always. I'm just about to roll my eyes when his face turns serious again, stopping me in my tracks. "I mean, I've never had anyone look at me like they really..." He pauses, worrying his lip, "Like they really love me. Only me." Oh.

Jacob/OC pairing with the inclusion of several other characters from the Twilight series.

14. Chapter Fourteen

Rating 0/5   Word Count 1790   Review this Chapter

A few days pass without much event, and by that I mean the absence of any murderous howling or the arrival of more murderous huntsmen. I have, however, been spending more time with a very playful pack of werewolves, whose laughter and liveliness is infectious. I don't think I've ever had any kind of fun that would compare to the last couple of days on the beach. Even William has managed to crack a smile or two. Speaking of William, he seems to have the uncanny sixth sense to know exactly when Jacob and I are otherwise engaged. Either that or he has some kind of buzzer that goes off every time our lips touch. We get five minutes, tops, before William slinks into the room looking sullen.

Granted, he looks a lot more presentable now he has some clothes that actually fit after our shopping trip. His bruises are starting to fade, too, and his appetite could rival Jacob's. Poor Emily seems to spend her entire life in the kitchen. As I stand in the kitchen flipping pancakes, I realise how much I can relate. Otis curls around my ankles, begging for food with a loud, persistent meow.

"You don't want any of this, cat," I mutter. I hear the kitchen door clunk open and a glance over my shoulder reveals a sleepy looking William, his curls in disarray. "Morning Will," I chime brightly. I hear the kitchen chair scrape against the floor as he sits. The batter in the pan hisses in reply.

"Morning," he replies, followed by a very loud and extended yawn. "Where's Jake?" I flip the pancake expertly. All this practise is giving me some mad pancake flipping skills.

"He's gone into town, wanted to speak to… Charlie… someone." I dish up some pancakes on a pre-warmed plate from under the grill and serve them to Will, who gives me a small smile. I notice his eyes drift over me for longer than normal. "What?" I ask, hand on hip.

"That blouse really suits you," he comments, before casting his eyes quickly down to his plate.

"Thanks Will," I reply warmly, reaching over and touching his shoulder briefly in appreciation. He glances at my hand and then smiles back shyly. "You look a lot healthier since you've started eating properly." I plate some pancakes up for myself, leaving the leftovers under the grill for when Jake gets back. Will and I sit eating in comfortable silence, while Otis scratches at the kitchen door. He still doesn't like being in the same room as William, the hair on his back sticks up in a long line along his spine every time he goes near. I hear the front door close and a moment later Jacob comes striding into the kitchen. He's glistening with sweat from the unusual heat, wearing a t-shirt for once for his trip into town, pieces of his hair sticking to his forehead a little. As soon as his eyes meet mine his charming, beaming smile appears, the one I can't resist beaming back to. I'm so in tune with how my body responds to him as he approaches me, bending low to give me a brief kiss on the lips, my muscles clenching, heartbeat racing.

"Mmm, breakfast," he mumbles appreciatively against my mouth. I laugh, swatting him away and point to the grill.

"Under there," I chuckle, trying to ignore William's ever so slightly disgusted expression. You'd think he'd be used to it by now; Jacob isn't exactly shy about public displays of affection. Then again, why should he be? It's his house. "Have fun in Forks?" I ask as he sits at the table and starts to wolf down his breakfast, pardon the pun.

"I went to the station," he starts between mouthfuls, "Saw Charlie." He glances at my quizzical expression. "Chief of police in forks… friend of the family."

"Oh, is everything okay?" I ask, concern pulling my eyebrows down into a frown. He pauses eating for a second and shrugs, looking a little concerned too, eyes glancing towards William.

"He wanted me to know that some guys were asking around at the station. They seemed very interested in whether there'd been any animal attacks lately." We exchange nervous glances and William seems to suddenly lose his appetite, dropping his fork.

"The order," he mutters darkly.

"Maybe." I start to push my food around my plate anxiously, "What do we do?" I ask Jacob. He gives a heavy shrug, still eating. As if anything could put that man off his food.

"Charlie knows about the pack, so he played everything down. If we lay low, we'll be fine." My shoulders sag in relief and I begin to eat again. William looks past the point of having his appetite saved, though. In fact, he looks a little green.

"Excuse me," he burbles out, before pushing back his chair abruptly and running from the kitchen.

"Poor guy," I comment and Jacob grunts in agreement. Sometimes, I get the feeling that he doesn't like William very much. Not that he ever says anything to me, but he seems to always go a little frosty when Will's around. We finish our plates in unison and Jacob looks up at me with a smile and then downs his orange juice in one gulp. "A kiss for your favourite chef?" I ask cheekily, an eyebrow raised. Jacob laughs but doesn't reply, just pulls me onto his lap in one swift movement instead, curls his arms around my waist and begins to devour me as fervently as he did his breakfast. I'm just getting my hand tangled nicely into his hair when the phone begins to ring.

"Ignore it," he mutters against my lips, right before his hot tongue brushes against my own. I press myself against his firm chest and suddenly he pulls me roughly further back on his lap. It takes me a moment to realise that hard mass pressing against my thigh is a consequence of our kissing, and the realisation itself makes my pelvic muscles clench deliciously in reply.

And yet the phone continues to ring incessantly. He pulls away for a moment, resting his forehead on my own so I can see his smouldering eyes, his breathing as ragged as my own. His fingers trace gently along my jaw as I bite my lip and close my eyes, enjoying the soft tickling of his fingertips, until his thumb and forefinger pull my bottom lip from between my teeth and is captured again by his mouth.

And still, the phone is ringing. I pull away, prickling with irritation, amongst other things, and get up to answer the phone, snatching the receiver from its holder on the wall.

"Hello, Black residence," I snap. When I turn to face Jacob he's leaning his elbow on the table, cheek resting on his open palm, grinning at me seductively. My exasperation seems to fade a little as I see his beautiful smile, his dark eyes moving up and down my body appreciatively.

"Is Jacob there?" a voice asks. The voice is decidedly feminine but relatively low for a woman, smooth and sumptuous sounding, like velvet. Immediately, I'm alarmed. Jacob must read my expression at once, because his face crumples into a frown and he gets up from his chair quickly, taking the receiver from my hand without a word. I lean back against the kitchen counter, scowling, picking at the countertop as I watch.

"Renesmee?" Jacob's voice is astonished and awed all at once, his eyes lighting up. The smile that I thought was reserved only for me starts to beam at the phone and I feel my stomach lurch unpleasantly, my scowl deepening with every passing second. Jacob's smile falters. "Oh, honey, don't cry," he placates her gently, "Don't cry Nessie…" I look down at my hand when I feel it start to shake and instead grip the edge of the counter, my knuckles turning white. The shakes just move to my knees instead. "No, no, of course, I'll be there as soon as I can."

What? He'll be where? He's leaving? Now? I can hear my blood roaring in my ears. Before he puts down the phone he makes more promises about being there for her, honey, of course he's there for her. I think I'm going to be sick. He doesn't even bother to look at me before leaving the room in a hurry. I follow, adrenaline carrying me on my shaking legs, to see him rush into his bedroom where he's throwing clothes into a bag.

"Where are you going?" I ask quietly, and I'm ashamed to hear my voice break.

"Nessie needs me," is his simple explanation, as if that's enough. It's only once he finishes packing and meets my watering eyes that he elaborates a little bit further, "She's in bits." He makes to walk past me, but I stand in the doorway stubbornly, devastation turning into fury. I just wish I could stop shaking.

"So you're just going?" I demand, my voice high with incredulity, "You're just leaving?"

"I have to," he snaps, eyes hard, uncaring. He tries to side step me, but I persist in blocking his way.

"What about William? You know, the whole… werewolf, hunter, immediate danger thing?!" I stare at him accusingly but he just avoids eye contact, continually trying to step past me, his muscles twitching. "Jacob!" I shout, trying to illicit a response.

"Move," he yells and suddenly I see his inner animal, the wolf shining through his eyes. It's shock that causes me to move aside, back against the wall. He's almost out of the front door, before he finally turns to me, seeming to calm momentarily. Regret flashes across his features as he looks at my shaking hand. "The pack will take care of everything," he tells me, gentler this time. He starts to leave again.

"What about me?" I whisper, knowing that his sensitive ears will hear me. Suddenly he's in front of me, pulling me into his arms, a move I initially resist, knowing that it'll make me cry. I press my face into his chest, silent tears rolling down my cheeks, and I hate that I can feel my heart calling out to him, clinging in some vain hope that he'll stay.

"I'll be back, I promise," he soothes. And then he's gone. My warmth is gone. I stumble over to the window, my hand pressed against my mouth in some pointless attempt to hold back my tears and watch as his car disappears from view.

I barely hear William calling my name as I slam Jacob's bedroom door and let myself fall into his covers, weeping pitifully.