"Oh, okay." The thought of sitting in women's clothing stores for any period of time immediately put him off.

　　"Thanks." I smiled at him.

　　"Will you be back in time for the dance?"

　　Grrr. Only in a town this small would a father know when the high school dances were.

　　"No — I don't dance, Dad." He, of all people, should understand that — I didn't get my balance problems from my mother.

　　He did understand. "Oh, that's right," he realized.

　　The next morning, when I pulled into the parking lot, I deliberately parked as far as possible from the silver Volvo. I didn't want to put myself in the path of too much temptation and end up owing him a new car. Getting out of the cab, I fumbled with my key and it fell into a puddle at my feet. As I bent to get it, a white hand flashed out and grabbed it before I could. I jerked upright. Edward Cullen was right next to me, leaning casually against my truck.

　　"How do you do that?" I asked in amazed irritation.

　　"Do what?" He held my key out as he spoke. As I reached for it, he dropped it into my palm.

　　"Appear out of thin air."

　　"Bella, it's not my fault if you are exceptionally unobservant." His voice was quiet as usual — velvet, muted.

　　I scowled at his perfect face. His eyes were light again today, a deep, golden honey color. Then I had to look down, to reassemble my now-tangled thoughts.