“Bella,” Edward said. “I told you that I was going to be reasonable and trust your judgment. I meant that. If you trust the werewolves, then I’m not going to worry about them.”

“Wow,” I said, as I had last night.

“And Jacob’s right — about one thing, anyway — a pack of werewolves ought to be enough to protect even you for one evening.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course. Only . . .”

I braced myself.

“I hope you won’t mind taking a few precautions? Allowing me to drive you to the boundary line, for one. And then taking a cell phone, so that I’ll know when to pick you up?”

“That sounds . . . very reasonable.”

“Excellent.”

He smiled at me, and I could see no trace of apprehension in his jewel-like eyes.

To no one’s surprise, Charlie had no problem at all with me going to La Push for a bonfire. Jacob crowed with undisguised exultation when I called to give him the news, and he seemed eager enough to embrace Edward’s safety measures. He promised to meet us at the line between territories at six.

I had decided, after a short internal debate, that I would not sell my motorcycle. I would take it back to La Push where it belonged and, when I no longer needed it anymore . . . well, then, I would insist that Jacob profit from his work somehow. He could sell it or give it to a friend. It didn’t matter to me.

Tonight seemed like a good opportunity to return the bike to Jacob’s garage. As gloomy as I was feeling about things lately, every day seemed like a possible last chance. I didn’t have time to procrastinate any task, no matter how minor.

Edward only nodded when I explained what I wanted, but I thought I saw a flicker of consternation in his eyes, and I knew he was no happier about the idea of me on a motorcycle than Charlie was.

I followed him back to his house, to the garage where I’d left the bike. It wasn’t until I pulled the truck in and got out that I realized the consternation might not be entirely about my safety this time.

Next to my little antique motorcycle, overshadowing it, was another vehicle. To call this other vehicle a motorcycle hardly seemed fair, since it didn’t seem to belong to the same family as my suddenly shabby-looking bike.

It was big and sleek and silver and — even totally motionless — it looked fast.

“What is that?”

“Nothing,” Edward murmured.

“It doesn’t look like nothing.”

Edward’s expression was casual; he seemed determined to blow it off. “Well, I didn’t know if you were going to forgive your friend, or he you, and I wondered if you would still want to ride your bike anyway. It sounded like it was something that you enjoyed. I thought I could go with you, if you wished.” He shrugged.

I stared at the beautiful machine. Beside it, my bike looked like a broken tricycle. I felt a sudden wave of sadness when I realized that this was not a bad analogy for the way I probably looked next to Edward.

“I wouldn’t be able to keep up with you,” I whispered.

Edward put his hand under my chin and pulled my face around so that he could see it straight on. With one finger, he tried to push the corner of my mouth up.

“I’d keep pace with you, Bella.”

“That wouldn’t be much fun for you.”

“Of course it would, if we were together.”

I bit my lip and imagined it for a moment. “Edward, if you thought I was going too fast or losing control of the bike or something, what would you do?”

He hesitated, obviously trying to find the right answer. I knew the truth: he’d find some way to save me before I crashed.

Then he smiled. It looked effortless, except for the tiny defensive tightening of his eyes.

“This is something you do with Jacob. I see that now.”

“It’s just that, well, I don’t slow him down so much, you know. I could try, I guess. . . .”

I eyed the silver motorcycle doubtfully.

“Don’t worry about it,” Edward said, and then he laughed lightly. “I saw Jasper admiring it. Perhaps it’s time he discovered a new way to travel. After all, Alice has her Porsche now.”

“Edward, I —”

He interrupted me with a quick kiss. “I said not to worry. But would you do something for me?”

“Whatever you need,” I promised quickly.

He dropped my face and leaned over the far side of the big motorcycle, retrieving something he had stashed there.

He came back with one object that was black and shapeless, and another that was red and easily identifiable.

“Please?” he asked, flashing the crooked smile that always destroyed my resistance.

I took the red helmet, weighing it in my hands. “I’ll look stupid.”

“No, you’ll look smart. Smart enough not to get yourself hurt.” He threw the black thing, whatever it was, over his arm and then took my face in his hands. “There are things between my hands right now that I can’t live without. You could take care of them.”

“Okay, fine. What’s that other thing?” I asked suspiciously.

He laughed and shook out some kind of padded jacket. “It’s a riding jacket. I hear road rash is quite uncomfortable, not that I would know myself.”

He held it out for me. With a deep sigh, I flipped my hair back and stuffed the helmet on my head. Then I shoved my arms through the sleeves of the jacket. He zipped me in, a smile playing around the corners of his lips, and took a step back.

I felt bulky.

“Be honest, how hideous do I look?”

He took another step back and pursed his lips.

“That bad, huh?” I muttered.

“No, no, Bella. Actually . . .” he seemed to be struggling for the right word. “You look . . . sexy.”

I laughed out loud. “Right.”

“Very sexy, really.”

“You are just saying that so that I’ll wear it,” I said. “But that’s okay. You’re right, it’s smarter.”

He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me against his chest. “You’re silly. I suppose that’s part of your charm. Though, I’ll admit it, this helmet does have its drawbacks.”

And then he pulled the helmet off so that he could kiss me.

As Edward drove me toward La Push a little while later, I realized that this unprecedented situation felt oddly familiar. It took me a moment of thought to pinpoint the source of the déjа vu.

“You know what this reminds me of?” I asked. “It’s just like when I was a kid and Renée would pass me off to Charlie for the summer. I feel like a seven-year-old.”

Edward laughed.

I didn’t mention it out loud, but the biggest difference between the two circumstances was that Renée and Charlie had been on better terms.

About halfway to La Push, we rounded the corner and found Jacob leaning against the side of the red Volkswagen he’d built for himself out of scraps. Jacob’s carefully neutral expression dissolved into a smile when I waved from the front seat.

Edward parked the Volvo thirty yards away.

“Call me whenever you’re ready to come home,” he said. “And I’ll be here.”

“I won’t be out late,” I promised.

Edward pulled the bike and my new gear out of the trunk of his car — I’d been quite impressed that it had all fit. But it wasn’t so hard to manage when you were strong enough to juggle full-sized vans, let alone small motorcycles.

Jacob watched, making no move to approach, his smile gone and his dark eyes indecipherable.

I tucked the helmet under my arm and threw the jacket across the seat.

“Do you have it all?” Edward asked.

“No problem,” I assured him.

He sighed and leaned toward me. I turned my face up for a goodbye peck, but Edward took me by surprise, fastening his arms tightly around me and kissing me with as much enthusiasm as he had in the garage — before long, I was gasping for air.

Edward laughed quietly at something, and then let me go.

“Goodbye,” he said. “I really do like the jacket.”

As I turned away from him, I thought I saw a flash of something in his eyes that I wasn’t supposed to see. I couldn’t tell for sure what it was exactly. Worry, maybe. For a second I thought it was panic. But I was probably just making something out of nothing, as usual.

I could feel his eyes on my back as I pushed my bike toward the invisible vampire-werewolf treaty line to meet Jacob.

“What’s all that?” Jacob called to me, his voice wary, scrutinizing the motorcycle with an enigmatic expression.

“I thought I should put this back where it belongs,” I told him.

He pondered that for one short second, and then his wide smile stretched across his face.

I knew the exact point that I was in werewolf territory because Jacob shoved away from his car and loped quickly over to me, closing the distance in three long strides. He took the bike from me, balanced it on the kickstand, and grabbed me up in another vice-tight hug.

I heard the Volvo’s engine growl, and I struggled to get free.

“Cut it out, Jake!” I gasped breathlessly.

He laughed and set me down. I turned to wave goodbye, but the silver car was already disappearing around the curve in the road.

“Nice,” I commented, allowing some acid to leak into my voice.

His eyes widened in false innocence. “What?”

“He’s being pretty dang pleasant about this; you don’t need to push your luck.”

He laughed again, louder than before — he found what I’d said very funny indeed. I tried to see the joke as he walked around the Rabbit to hold my door open for me.

“Bella,” he finally said — still chuckling — as he shut the door behind me, “you can’t push what you don’t have.”