"Oh, okay." The thought of sitting in women's clothing stores for any period of time immediately put him off.
"哦，那好。"一想到在女式服装店里一袋就不知会有多久，他立刻就打退堂鼓了。
"Thanks." I smiled at him.
"谢谢。"我冲他笑了笑。
"Will you be back in time for the dance?"
"你会赶回来参加舞会吗？"
Grrr. Only in a town this small would a father know when the high school dances were.
真气人.也只有在这样的小镇,做父母的才会连高中什么时候开舞会都知道。
"No — I don't dance, Dad." He, of all people, should understand that — I didn't get my balance problems from my mother.
"不——您啥时候见过我跳舞的，爸。"他应该比谁都明白，我平衡能力差可不是妈妈遗传的。
He did understand. "Oh, that's right," he realized.
他倒也确实明白。"哦，也是。"他意识到了。
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.
第二天早上，进了停车场以后，我故意把车停到了离那辆银色沃尔沃尽可能远的地方。我可不想自己找罪受，弄得手痒痒的，落个要赔人家一辆新车的下场。从驾驶室出来，我笨手笨脚地摸钥匙，不想它掉进了我脚下的一滩积水里。正当我弯腰去捡的时候，忽然闪出一只白净的手，先我一步捡到了手。我猛地直起了身子。爱德华·卡伦就紧挨在我身边，漫不经心地靠在我车上。
"How do you do that?" I asked in amazed irritation.
"你怎么做到的？"我又惊又气地问道。
"Do what?" He held my key out as he spoke. As I reached for it, he dropped it into my palm.
"做到什么？"他边说边把钥匙摊在了手上。我正要伸手去拿的时候，他一松手，让它掉进了我的手掌里。
"Appear out of thin air."
"神出鬼没的，说冒出来就冒出来了。"
"Bella, it's not my fault if you are exceptionally unobservant." His voice was quiet as usual — velvet, muted.
"贝拉，这可不能怪我哟，谁叫你这么不小心呢。"他的声音和平常一样轻——轻得像绒毛似的，好像没有出声似的。
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.
我瞪眼怒视着他那完美无暇的脸。今天他的眼睛又亮了，是一种很深的蜜褐色。然后我只好低下头，重新去捋一捋此时已经乱作一团的思路。
