"Opt for the Treat"
Universe: AH
Rating: M (For sensuality)
Characters: Bella, Edward
Genre: Romance
Summary: Bella is taking the quarter off from school to visit her parents and maybe earn a bit of money. The small town gossip mill is grinding away with endless stories of the hot new doctor. When Bella finally meets him, she comes up with a plan to seduce him on Halloween Night.
Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer still owns Twilight. And I still don't.
"Oh, sweetie, it's so nice to have you home." Bella's mom hugged her tightly and rocked her back and forth for a few seconds.
"I just needed a break. Thanks for being so supportive. I really thought year round school would speed things up, I guess I didn't realize how grueling summer term would be."
"I can tell. It looks like you need to eat, sleep, and have some fun. You're too skinny!"
"Mom, seriously? All I did was lose the 10 pounds I gained last year. I'm fine."
"I just worry about you. It's a mom thing. So, what are your plans? I know you don't intend to follow dad and me around for the next three months. Any cute boys you want to see?"
"Eww, Mom. You know I want to spend time with you guys. But I did want to catch up with some of the girls, maybe go on some hikes. And Mrs. Newton said I can pick up some shifts at the store to earn a bit of money, too. I didn't come back down here just to free-load."
"Isabella, stop. You know that's not how we feel. We're so happy to have you back home. It's been too quiet since you left for school. And now with football season in full swing, I need some extra estrogen in the house to balance out your dad and his friends. I'm going crazy."
"You already were, mom," Bella teased with a smile.
They chatted about small town gossip while fixing dinner. Bella didn't realize how many little details she missed out on in the last 12 months. She was also surprised to realize that it all felt a bit boring and mundane after living with the chaos and excitement of a college campus for a year. She felt herself checking out mentally more than once and had to force her attention back to her mother's words. It was a litany of rumors, geriatric medical emergencies, politics and crazy tourist stories. Although who would come to Forks on vacation she had no idea. Her mom was giggling about the family that showed up with eight kids in an enormous van to join in the Fourth of July celebration. The kids were all well dressed, polite and shy and completely shell-shocked by the demolition derby and the fireworks in the street. Obviously kids from the suburbs with too many rules and restrictions to know how to have fun.
Bella gasped and commented in all the right places, but her attention continued to wander until something sparked her interest.
". . . He's really quite handsome. Moved here immediately after his residency. He lives alone but half the women, married or not, have been showering him with casseroles and cookies since the moving truck pulled out of the driveway."
"Who is this again?" Bella asked.
"Edward Cullen. The new general practitioner at the hospital. I'm sure you'll end up seeing him before too long, but he lives just five houses down. The one with the white shutters and black door. It's been vacant since the last tenants moved out in January. Everyone was hoping a family with little kids would move in, but I think the young doctor is more exciting."
"Women love talking about little kids and single men. I bet all the matchmakers in town are sharpening their claws."
"It won't do them any good. Your father says he heard he was a homosexual."
"Dad's trading gossip now?"
"You know your father. He was probably just trying to shock me into shutting up."
"Can you really blame him?" Bella asked sarcastically.
"No," her mom giggled. "I'm sure all the husbands feel that way. It's not every day that a clean-shaven, handsome, wealthy, single young doctor moves into your town."
"Yeah. That's a long list of characteristics. I hope you haven't done anything embarrassing."
"Isabella Marie Swan. You watch yourself. All I did was take over a home-baked apple pie when he moved in. It was a welcome gift just like I would give any new neighbor."
"Mom, you don't bake."
"They had a bake sale at the library the day before."
"You bought dad a pie and then gave it away to a complete stranger? No wonder he was pissed!"
"Language, young lady."
"Right." They both laughed at the absurdity of it all. But Bella's curiosity was piqued. Any news in a small town was big news. But this was bigger than most. She couldn't wait to meet the man that had turned the entire female population of Forks into lunatics and their men into resentful grouches.
September melted into October without a single sighting, but she heard plenty of gossip from her friends and even some of the customers at the store. So far, she knew what car he drove, that he ran daily along a route that people estimated to cover five miles, what time he left for work every morning, how late he came home, and, of course, that he lived alone and had never had a visitor apart from the town women that insisted on bringing him food. He met them at the door and never invited anyone inside. Bella felt like a stalker collecting all of this information in her head, but she never actively sought it out or asked a single question. He had captured everybody's attention, even the men.
At the store one Wednesday morning she heard some men talking in low tones while sorting through the newest shipment of fishing lures.
"Anyone invited that Cullen doctor out yet?"
"Sure did. Me and Morty went over there a couple days after he moved in. He was dressed all clean and preppy like one of those prissy boy magazine models. Asked him to come out with us and he smirked. I kid you not. He smirked at us and told us he didn't want to go any more than we wanted to have him there. He was holding a giant red book like an encyclopedia and had on reading glasses like my Aunt Tess. We offered to let him clean the fish for his share of the catch since he's a doctor and knows all about slicing things open. He laughed and said he was no surgeon - that was his father. Then he thanked us for thinking of him, but he's a vegetarian."
"No friggin' way. So what's he doing with all the food? Lizzie took him a venison pie just last Friday. I sure hope he's not tossing 'em in the trash. That was a good buck that was. Tender. Not at all gamy. Damn that Lizzie. I told her that doc's a waste o' time. He's not gonna marry some small-town chit just because the women bribe him with food. Vegetarian. Hah!"
"I seen his car out behind the soup kitchen. More than once. You know, the shiny little silver thing."
"Yeah, I've seen it there myself. D'ya think the women know?"
"If they don't, please don't say anything. I bet them folks over at the soup kitchen have never eaten so good. Besides, if they do find out, they'll be calling him a saint next. I've already had it up to here with stories of him. Mary asked me to shave my beard! Can you believe it?"
Bella giggled to herself and continued stocking the fishing line in the next aisle. Mary was completely insane. You don't ask a lumberjack, a fisherman, a hunter or a mill worker to shave their beard. You might as well ask them to ditch their flannel jackets. It was never going to happen.
She reached for her box cutter in her back pocket planning to slice open the final box of fishing line. The sliding trigger caught on the edge of her pocket. When she tugged against the resistance, the corroded screw failed and the razor blade broke free, slashing across her pointer and middle fingers. Bella didn't feel the pain immediately. Razor cuts are like that. Icy numbness followed by sharp prickles where the skin parted, and then the deep, throbbing pain of bone-deep trauma. The pieces of the box cutter clattered to the floor amid a shower of crimson droplets.
"Shit, shit, shit," she hissed under her breath. This was bad. She knew it was worse than any other cut she'd received because her fingertips were already feeling pinched and burning. Her nerves were screaming from her shoulder on down to her hurt hand. Moving as quickly as she dared, Bella bundled her sweatshirt into a wad of fabric in front and then clamped down against it to staunch the flow of blood from the wounds.
"Excuse me, could somebody help me to my car, please?" Bella's voice sounded tinny and thin as if it had travelled over a poor phone connection. Morty heard and responded first. All the men had experienced or treated knife cuts from hunting or fishing trips, however they weren't well versed in treating 19 year old girls on the verge of slipping into shock.
"I got her, I got her. Tim, help me get her to the truck. Let's see if that Cullen guy knows what he's doing. We've got a patient for him, I think."
The scent of fresh blood hung like a rust-tinged haze in the Ford pick-up. Bella was wedged between Morty and Tim. Her face felt ice cold but her hand was on fire. Her sweatshirt was already soaked with blood. She looked down woozily. It looked like she was holding her hand against a gunshot or stab wound to the belly. She hoped her father didn't see her like this. He would have a heart attack first and ask questions later.
It was a short drive to the hospital. Once there, Morty and Tim helped her inside and into one of the black vinyl chairs that lined the small waiting room.
The receptionist gasped in horror and reached for the phone. "No need to panic, Betty. She just done and cut her fingers. It's bad but not quite so bad as it looks. We figured Doctor Cullen could stitch her up right quick, what do you think?"
"Oh, absolutely. We'll take her back to a room right away."
Bella tried to wave away the wheel chair that the nurse brought out for her, but he wasn't about to buckle when her face was as white as a sheet. Morty and Tim waited until she was settled before wishing her luck and heading back out to the truck. She offered them a watery smile and the best 'thank you' she could muster. She decided that once she could hold a spoon again she would bake them some cookies or brownies. It wasn't fair that this Doctor Cullen character was getting all of the benefits of domestic gratitude and the other men were left in the cold. They were a bit rough around the edges, sure, but for the most part they were a kind-hearted and chivalrous bunch.
Bella tilted her head back and breathed slowly in through her nose and out through her mouth. The bleeding had slowed somewhat, but the light-headed feeling still persisted. The nurse asked her some simple questions about her medical history and the accident as he measured and wrote down her vitals.
"Well, Ms. Swan, Doctor Cullen will be here in just a few moments to look at that hand. I'll be right back with a bottle of water. You look like you could use it."
She grinned weakly in response. She felt wilted and slow. "Some water would be great. Thanks."
Bella looked around the room curiously. She had spent a lot of time in and out of the hospital during her early teenage years. Some kids were gawky and awkward during their adolescence. She was a threat to her own health. Getting bones set and wounds stitched was a familiar process. Of course, she eventually grew into her body and hadn't had an emergency for three years now. Since her last trip here they had replaced the mint green privacy curtains with beige and cream plaid ones. The walls had been repainted, too. Everything else looked, and smelled, the same way she remembered.
"Here's some water. Are you doing okay?"
Bella's hand was throbbing and her breakfast felt like curdled milk in her stomach, but she was holding it together and managed a quick nod.
"Okay then. Just hit this button if you need anything. The doctor will be right in."
Bella pushed back with her feet until the wheel chair was up against the wall. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes. The fluorescent lights were making her dizzy. Or maybe that was the pain and shock. Several more minutes passed before she heard a hushed conversation outside the door followed by a quick knock.
"Hello. Miss Swan, is it?"
Bella opened her eyes and her jaw came unhinged. After weeks of hearing the gossip, she had become a bit jaded and cynical. They must have been exaggerating. No man was as perfectly beautiful as everyone claimed Doctor Cullen to be. Or so she had thought. The man before her deserved every ounce of their praise. He was definitely young, maybe in his mid twenties, with features that arrested the gaze instantaneously. His hair was a tousled mess of auburn with gold and bronze highlights. He was fair skinned with a smattering of freckles across his nose and high cheekbones. Most shocking of all were his eyes, the same brilliant green as her favorite tourmaline pendant. He was watching her expectantly, looking at her over a pair of glasses with thin wire frames.
"Um. Yes. Bella. Sorry. I guess I'm still a bit light-headed."
"I see. Did you lose consciousness at all?" he asked while scanning the nurse's notes.
"No, but I get faint at the smell of blood. Fortunately Morty and Tim gave me a ride here. I don't think I could shift gears like this."
"You drive a manual? That's a rare skill in your generation."
"Excuse me? My generation? You can't be more than five or six years older than me. That's hardly a generational gap."
"Sorry. I wasn't trying to be condescending." He glanced back at her chart. "You're pretty close there. I'm actually twenty seven. In my defense, you do look young for your age."
Bella instantly forgot her first impression of the good doctor. Hot he may be, but he was a condescending asshole. . . while claiming not to be condescending. So he was also a liar and a hypocrite.
"If you're done insulting me, maybe you good look at my hand and tell me if my fingers are still attached."
He started in surprise at her tone. "Again, I apologize. Let me just wash my hands and we'll see what we need to do to get you fixed up and out of here." He did look honestly apologetic. Maybe she was overreacting. Her emotions were all over the place and she was having trouble thinking through the fog of pain.
Bella gritted her teeth while he washed his hands, donned a pair of XL exam gloves and gently unclenched her hand from her blood-stained sweatshirt. She was still sitting in the wheelchair, so he scooted the round stool directly in front of her and sat with his knees bracing hers and her injured hand over a blue cloth on her lap.
Bella couldn't stomach looking at the cuts. They felt deep and they hurt almost more than she could stand. She knew all she needed to know for now. Instead, she examined Doctor Cullen. His expression was intent as he gently uncurled her fingers and prodded gently at the joints and flesh above and below the lacerations.
This close, she could see details that were invisible at first glance. He had slight shadows under his eyes like he hadn't slept well, or had been working far too many hours in a row. His jaw was bristling with stubble, but it was lighter than his hair, almost strawberry blond. His eyebrows and lashes, by contrast, were dark brown at the base, fading to reddish tips. She could see a faint line with four dimpled white dots on either side stretching from just above his right eyebrow into his hairline. She wondered how he got that scar. It had been stitched perfectly and healed so cleanly that it was almost imperceptible.
"Well, this could have been a lot worse," he spoke softly, still examining her wounded hand. Bella felt blood dripping steadily down the back of her hand to soak into the absorbent cloth. "The blade, it was a razor blade, correct?"
Bella nodded. "My box cutter broke open."
"Hmmm. Well, it's a clean cut. That's good. No tearing of the tissues so I should have no problem making a neat stitch. However, the blade did go very deep. Your middle finger just sustained trauma to the muscle. That will heal quickly. But your pointer finger could have some complications. The blade nicked the proximal phalange and cut part way through the flexor digitorum profundis. That's the tendon you use to curl your fingers inward to make a fist or grasp objects. If you can tough it out a bit longer, I'd like to move you over to the OR where I have to lighting and tools to do this right."
"What do you mean, do it right? Can't you just stitch it closed?"
"I could and I think you might heal just fine. But I would feel a lot more comfortable if we could throw a couple of dissolving stitch through that tendon to ensure it knits properly. Otherwise there is the risk it could heal weaker than before, or scar tissue around the sheath could cause binding and limit movement, or the worst case would be if it tore the rest of the way. We would have to do more invasive hand surgery to pull it back into place and I would rather not bring an orthopedic surgeon in to bisect your beautiful fingers if I can help it."
Bella blanched visibly and pulled her hand protectively against her chest.
"Hmm. I didn't think you would be a fan of that either. So, let me go ahead and numb you up and then we'll get you over to the OR. Will that work for you?"
"I guess so. Yes. And thank you."
"Good girl. Okay, let's take care of some of that pain first."
The bite of the needle into her already traumatized hand brought tears to Bella's eyes. The pain was wearing her down. The adrenaline that surged through her immediately after the accident had been metabolized and now she just felt like curling up into a ball on the floor and sobbing. It took several minutes for the anesthetic to seep through the tissues, but when the numbness took hold she breathed a sigh of relief. Her other fingers were still tingling and her right arm and shoulder were rigid and sore. Doctor Cullen wrapped her wounded hand loosely with sterile gauze then disposed of the syringe and his blood stained gloves. He disappeared to give his instructions to the front desk, but reappeared moments later.
"Your hair came loose. Would you like me to fix it for you?"
"Oh. I guess I can't, can I? Thanks. I'm going to have to have my mom tie my hair up for me for the next couple weeks."
Doctor Cullen moved the wheel chair forward and stood behind her. "That's how it looks. Unless you want to stop here each morning and I can do it for you," he joked as her smoothly removed her rubber band, pulled her hair back into a low pony tail and replaced the hair tie.
"I think you have better things to do with your time. But, thanks. Wow. You're good at that."
"I grew up with a younger sister and several female cousins." His hands moved from her hair to her right shoulder gently loosening the tense muscles with his fingers then working his way slowly over her deltoids to her upper arms. Bella tilted her head from side to side, welcoming the relief from the pain and tension of the last half hour. But when he crouched down next to her chair and continued to massage her forearm, her first impression of him came flooding back to her.
His eyes met hers and she was struck by the warmth and humor in their green depths. Now that the pain in her hand had dimmed to a subtle pressure and her shoulder spasm had relaxed she could really appreciate the beauty of his face. She felt very awkward all of a sudden. She tried to pull her arm out of his grasp.
"Tsk, tsk. Calm down. Tension in the arm will stop your hand from relaxing completely. I don't want to put you under general anesthesia, but I need your muscles to be as slack and immobile as possible. Just breathe in and out and do your best to let go." He kept a firm hold on her arm as he spoke. What he said made sense, but she was having a very hard time loosening up with his body so close, his breath on her face and the feel of his fingers gently stroking and massaging her arm.
"Okay," he continued, "I think they're probably almost ready for us. I'm going to call Tyler back in to prep you and take you to the operating room while I get scrubbed up. I'll see you in a few minutes, Ms. Swan."
"Thanks, Doctor Cullen," she replied.
Tyler, the nurse who took her vitals, came in with a tray and set to work cleaning her hand and fingers around the cut. He irrigated the wounds with a saline solution. She had to look away. The sight of her flesh, gaping and bloodless pink was only made worse by the appearance of fresh blood welling up and dripping onto the white bandages. He rewrapped her hand and patted her knee reassuringly.
"You're doing great, Isabella. Your mom is here, by the way. I guess your boss called her and told her what happened. Do you want to see her now or wait?"
"I'd rather wait until after, if that's okay. She'll probably ask me a billion questions and I might get frustrated with her. She'll hate it but I would rather just focus. She gets pretty stressed out when I'm hurt so I'm sorry if she yells at you."
"Don't sweat it. She's your mom and she loves you. Of course she worries. Let's get you over to the OR now and I'll tell her she can see you in about 30 minutes."
"That fast?"
"That's what the doc said."
"Wow, okay."
When they reached the OR, Tyler helped her out of the chair and onto the operating table. He laid her arm out on the small padded table that stuck out like a wing on one side. Another nurse, an older woman in pale pink scrubs with a matching mask, stood near her feet laying out instruments on a steel tray. Tyler patted her on the knee again and left to return to his duties in the ER.
Bella lay there looking at the bright lights on the ceiling, trying to relax as she was instructed to. It was a bit of a challenge considering how cold it was in there. Minutes later Doctor Cullen entered and all of Bella's progress was expunged. He was wearing forest green scrubs and a white mask. His eyes were startlingly bright, almost emerald, against that darker green fabric. The lighting cast sharp shadows, highlighting the play of hard muscles in his arms. He pulled on a fresh pair of gloves, looked right at her and winked. Was this his normal attitude or was he just trying to set her at ease? All the gossip churning through the rumor mill described him as serious, polite and direct. Bella felt as if he were teasing her.
"Let's get those fingers closed up now so you can go home, pop some pain pills and get some sleep."
"Sounds like a plan."
"First of all I'm going to inject a little more anesthetic. We don't want your hand jerking suddenly if I hit a sensitive spot while I'm working." He got right to work while he was still speaking. "Tendons heal more slowly than muscle and skin, so these stitches will dissolve gradually over the next 3-4 weeks." Bella wanted to look away, but she was so fascinated by the speed with which he worked that she couldn't. Without the pain and with less blood, she was more engrossed than repulsed and that surprised her. Doctor Cullen put two tiny stitched into the white-grey tendon, pulling the gaping edges together until they formed an uninterrupted line.
The nurse handed him a pair of forceps and another suturing needle. The curved metal glinted under the bright lights. Bella flinched when the needle punctured her skin. Doctor Cullen looked sharply up at her face to assess her pain. She took another breath and nodded for him to continue. His hands swept smoothly through the motions. She stared, mesmerized by their rapid dance. Swoop, twist, knot, snip. In under a minute, the slashes across both fingers were closed, held shut by a neat row of blue-black stitches.
"We're going to bandage these lightly. They may still bleed a bit for the next 24-48 hours. Due to the tendon damage, I want to immobilize your hand for the next seven days to allow the tissue to knit." The nurse handed him a splint designed to hold the fingers straight and flat. He placed her bandaged hand, still completely numb, against the splint and secured it with the attached elastic straps.
"How does that feel?"
"It doesn't."
"Well it will. In fact, it'll probably hurt like hell for days. I've entered in a prescription for Tylenol with codeine. If it isn't strong enough or you are having trouble sleeping, let me know right away. I can prescribe something stronger if you need it."
"That should be okay. It's what I took when I broke my leg in 7th grade and I managed."
"Perfect. I've also prescribed you an antibiotic. Infection increases scarring and that could inhibit your dexterity. I'd like to nip any possible infection in the bud. Make sure you take it with food, and take the whole prescription. If you notice any signs of infection, swelling, redness, fever, etcetera, I want to see you immediately. Tyler should have a list of wound care instructions for you. Well, then. Let's get you back to the other room. I understand your mother is here. I had Tyler ask her to bring you a change of clothes. Those look a bit worse for wear."
Bella looked down at her sweatshirt, stiff with dry blood, and her gory jeans. Now that he brought it to her attention, the sight turned her stomach. She couldn't wait to get into clean clothes.
"Thanks for assisting on short notice, Janine," he said as he helped Bella down from the operating table.
"You're welcome, Doctor Cullen. Take care of that hand, Isabella."
"I will. And thank you both, so much." Bella was surprised when Doctor Cullen did not release her elbow. He escorted her all the way back to the ER where her mother was waiting.
An hour later, Bella was ensconced on the couch at her parents' house with a bowl of vanilla pudding, a full bottle of painkillers and the TV remote. Her mother had, true to form, oscillated between crying, scolding, hugging and interrogating her. After she learned the basic facts of the accident, her questions turned to data collection about the handsome doctor.
Bella tried not to be rude, but she was feeling turned around inside and talking about Doctor Cullen was only making it worse. His bedside many was professional, efficient and gentle. But there were moments when he had lingered, his face a little closer, his touch a little firmer, his eyes searching. Finally, Bella claimed pain and exhaustion and begged her mother to let her take a nap. Renee apologized profusely and disappeared upstairs with her cell phone, no doubt to dish out more fodder to the gossip ring.
Bella sighed and flipped through the channels until she came to a music video program. She kept the volume loud enough to discourage conversation, but soft enough to think. She replayed scenes from the hospital in her head; Doctor Cullen winking at her, supporting her as she walked, massaging her shoulder and arm, gathering her hair, his fingers brushing against the nape of her neck.
Bella was flushed and short of breath. She finished her pudding, took two long pulls from her water bottle and settled deeper into the couch. She watched TV until she fell asleep, but she couldn't see anything past a pair of playful green eyes.
Bella woke before 6 AM the next day feeling awful. It felt as if her hand was being pressed against a red hot stove. She was shaking badly by the time she managed to use the bathroom, feed herself a bowl of cereal, and toss back her pain meds and antibiotics. She crumpled back onto the couch and gritted her teeth while tears forced their way through her closed eyelids. It took far longer than she expected for the pain to dim to a manageable level and it didn't come close to the benumbed bliss of the shots in the ER.
It was almost 8 o'clock when her mother came into the living room to check on her. "I took the rest of the week off work. Tell me what you need and I'll take care of it."
"Could you help me run a bath?"
"Of course, sweetie. Let me start the coffee and we'll get you cleaned up."
Bella felt strange being naked in front of her mother. She was conscious of the fact she was a woman now. The last time her mother had seen her naked was when she broke her leg and needed help bathing and dressing for a month in middle school. Renee seemed just as uncomfortable and respected her modesty as much as she could.
Bella stood next to the tub with her right hand in a plastic bag and her left hand holding the white bath sheet around her body.
"Okay, sweetie. That should be the right temperature. Do you need help climbing in?"
Bella eyed the high sides of the claw foot tub. She didn't want to slip and jar her hand. The codeine had taken the edge off, but it still throbbed abysmally. "Yeah. I think so. Thanks, mom."
"Don't worry about it. I'm here for you as long as you need me." Bella knew she was talking about more than just this injury. She had tears in her eyes as she released her towel and held her mom's hand for balance while she stepped into the tub.
It felt wonderful to sink into the warm water. She rested her right wrist against the edge and slipped down until her hair was completely wet. When she sat up, her mom wordlessly grabbed the shampoo, squeezed out a generous dollop, and set to work washing her hair. Renee worked at a salon and washed hair all day long, but this didn't feel like a salon shampoo. Bella was cast back to her toddler years, feeling her mother's hands gathering her hair, lathering it up. Shivering as her finger nails scratched gently across her scalp, over her crown and behind her ears. She closed her eyes and reveled in the sensation. She felt like a little girl, but simultaneously felt the significance of her actual age, hovering on the edge of womanhood. Her mother was her friend, her confidante, and her nurturer. That didn't have to change, even as she moved on into her independent life.
She washed the rest of her body as well as she could, grateful that her mom was there with a clean washcloth when she got soap in her eyes. When she finally lifted the plug with her toes to release the water, she was no longer embarrassed by her nudity.
Bella's mom helped her get dressed. They were both giggling by the time she managed to shimmy into her underwear and jeans and managed to get her bra straps straight. Bella could brush her hair left-handed, but she sat willingly on the edge of her bed while her mom kneeled behind her, combing and then French-braiding her hair.
"So, Doctor Cullen was very solicitous."
"He seems very nice."
"He spent a lot of time going over your care instructions."
"I don't think the ER was very busy yesterday."
"Isabella. . ."
"What, mom?"
"Look at me." Bella reluctantly met her mother's gaze in the mirror above her dresser. "I saw the way you looked at him. And the way he was watching you. It was like there was nobody else in the room. And there was very little air for the rest of us to breathe."
"The rest of who?"
"Thank you for making my point. Me, that male nurse, Mike and Tamara Newton. . ."
"Wait, Mike and his mom were there?"
"Oh, Bella. You are awfully clueless for being so smart. Tamara was on the phone with Celeste Walker before she had even reached the door. And poor Mike looked like someone just keyed his new truck."
"Mike Shmike. I don't see what there was to talk about."
"Of course not. You're too innocent. Just be careful. Anyone who looks like that man is bound to have far more experience than either you or me. Please be safe."
"Mom!"
"Alright, alright. I'm shutting up. Let's get you back down stairs. The coffee's hot and I'll make you some scrambled eggs."
Bella rolled her eyes, trying to dismiss the whole conversation, but she was secretly thrilled by the idea that Doctor Cullen was interested in her. So maybe that wasn't his normal bedside manner. She hoped it wasn't. She didn't want to imagine his hands in another woman's hair, or his fingers stroking and soothing their tension away.
A week later Bella's mom drove her to the hospital to have her stitches removed. The splint chafed at her wrist and her hand felt stiff from being confined for so long.
"Are you sure you're okay?"
"Mom, I'm fine."
"Okay. I'm just going to swing by the salon to pick up my pay check and verify my schedule for tomorrow. I should be back here in under an hour."
"You don't need to rush. I'll be fine. Thanks for the ride, mom."
"Love you sweetie. See you soon."
Bella raised her splinted hand to wave a goofy good bye to her mom as she drove out of the parking lot. She checked in at the clinic reception desk and took a seat in the waiting area. She didn't have long to wait before the physician's assistant called her back to take her vitals.
Michelle, the PA, was chatty and smiley, talking non-stop about her pre-school aged son and his new kitten. Bella smiled but couldn't stop herself from checking the doorway every couple seconds. When the PA started taking off her brace and unwrapping her hand she felt a sinking sensation in her gut. He wasn't going to be here. Stitch removal was child's play. There was no need for the busy doctor, one of only three doctors on staff in the whole hospital, to take time out for her. She bit her lip and stared dejectedly at the wall while Michelle chattered happily on.
"Oooh, these are beautiful stitches. And no redness or swelling. Wonderful. Let me see you close your hand into a fist. Yes, just like that. Oh, this is such a relief. My husband was there at Newton's when you cut yourself. He said there was blood absolutely everywhere. Mrs. Newton was hysterical and Mike Newton was going to clean it up but then he went all white in the face and got sick. It was awful from what I heard."
"Wow. I had no idea," Bella replied uncomfortably. The Newtons had sent her a box of chocolates and a balloon with a card, but there was no discussion about her going back to work. She figured it was time to start looking elsewhere for part time work. Maybe the salon would pay her to answer phones during their busy times.
"Well, everything looks great. Why don't we get those itchy, itchy stitches out, huh?"
Michelle had her hands poised to cut through the first stitch when they heard someone clear their throat from the doorway. "I'll take it from here, Michelle. Thank you so much. I believe we've got another bleeder in the ER if you want to practice your stitches, too."
"Oh, excellent! I'll head right over there."
Bella watched wide-eyed as Michelle bounded out of the room to take care of the 'bleeder'. She couldn't ever imagine being happy to see an open wound.
"Yeah, she's a bit odd, but she's sweet."
"She does seem nice. And energetic."
Doctor Cullen chuckled while he repeated the exam that Michelle had just performed. But he took it a bit further, palpating the flesh above and below each pink scar, comparing the flexion and extension of her fingers on both hands, pressing gently against the knots that had formed in her forearm and palm until her hand sagged limp and relaxed palm up on his knee. She found herself watching him while he stroked her fingers. At first she thought he was caressing her, but then a sharp sting in her finger tip made her jump. She felt stupid when she realized he was just checking her reflexes.
"Sorry about that. The element of surprise is necessary to get a true reaction."
"How does it look?" Bella asked, trying to bring her mind back to business.
"Better than I hoped," he grinned at her. "You're a model patient." She flushed beneath his gaze, self-conscious but pleased by his praise. "Now, I'm going to give you a list of exercises that I want you to do three times a day. They'll preserve your dexterity as you continue to heal. If you think you can handle that, you won't need to see a physical therapist." He showed her the exercises and walked through several repetitions with her. Her hand was weak, stiff and still hurt a lot, but she pushed through and earned another glowing grin. "Perfect. Do you think you can come in at the same time next week?"
"Absolutely." She was thrilled at the opportunity to see him again.
"Great. Wait here while I print out that list of exercises."
Bella examined her hands while he was gone, impressed by how rapidly the skin seemed to be healing. She could feel the swelling and hardened tissues in the hurt fingers and her right hand and wrist looked thinner than the left. She was surprised at how quickly the muscles atrophied with only one week in a splint. Despite being right handed naturally, her right hand and wrist looked small and weak compared to her left.
Doctor Cullen recognized the look on her face. "It may look wimpy right now, but doing these exercises will bring muscle strength and tone back in no time."
Bella cupped her healing hand protectively in her good one. "I know that. It's just odd, you know? Things deteriorate so quickly when they're neglected."
"That's very true. That's why I run every day. You're not back to driving yet, are you?" There was the wink again.
"Not yet. My mom dropped me off and is picking me up again in about 20 minutes."
"Well, you can start driving again as soon as you are comfortable. And don't forget to finish up the remaining doses of your antibiotics."
"Yes, Doctor Cullen," she replied. His eyes seemed to spark when she said his name. His gaze was on her lips. Emboldened by his playful wink she casually licked her lower lip. She saw his eyes start open a bit wider and his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. That made her smile. She didn't have much experience, but her instincts were picking up some clear signals. The small town doctor with the rigid bearing was not as unattainable as everyone else thought.
The tiny seed of an idea put down roots in her mind. It was three weeks until Halloween. She had some shopping to do.
Bella already had a plan in mind, but she needed to know it had a chance of success. She didn't want to contemplate the possibility of rejection. It would be humiliating. And heart breaking. During the two weeks after her injury. Doctor Cullen had gone from being an object of curiosity within her mind to being the central focus of every thought, dream and fantasy. She was hungry for the feel of his fingers against her skin. She treasured every detail of the times he had touched her, sifting through the myriad sensations and fueling her fantasies with increasingly graphic details.
She had given up her virginity back in high school and felt seriously let down by the premature heaving, grunting release of her date. He left her feeling awkward and incomplete. After three more similar experiences at college, she wanted to be with someone who possessed some skill and experience. If her mother's assessment was correct, Doctor Cullen would have both in abundance.
Bella saw the doctor one more time. He seemed pleased with how quickly her hand was healing and regaining strength. However, he was very direct and professional. No casual touches. No playful winks. Something had changed since their last appointment and she didn't like it.
"Doctor Cullen?"
"Yes Miss Swan?"
"I was wondering if you could also look at my knee while I'm here."
He twisted on the swivel stool to look down at her legs. She was wearing black leggings under a royal purple sweater dress. He looked back up at her over his reading glasses and she could see the barest glint of a spark there. Bella wanted to fan that spark into a real flame.
She lifted her foot, extending her left leg before her. He wordlessly took her cue, rolling forward to take her knee between his hands.
"Can you tell me what happened?" His fingers gently probed the joint and surrounding tissue, feeling for swelling and heat.
"I stepped funny coming down the stairs this morning. I almost lost my balance but I caught myself in time. But I felt a pop in my left knee and it hurts a bit on the outside when I step down. Yeah. Right there."
"This is pretty common. Sudden angled tension or impact can create a shearing force against tendons and ligaments. If you felt a pop you could have a small tear. They generally heal quickly as long as you don't stress it further. Focus on straight line motions like walking or running, but no soccer or football drills, alright?" He was smirking now and hadn't let go of her leg. "I would also recommend ice four times a day for the next 48 hours. Elevate it and keep the ice pack on for 12 to 15 minutes. If it feels at all unstable, or you experience inflammation or shooting pains, we'll take another look. Is there anything else you need help with? Are you going to need a doctor's note to go back to work?"
"I'm not working at Newton's any more. Now I'm helping out at the salon a couple hours a day. It's not much, but it's better than sitting around watching TV and waiting for next term to start."
"So will you be heading back to UW in January?"
"How do you know where I go to school?"
"You've lived here long enough to know that nothing is private. If you keep your ears open, you hear all sorts of interesting information. Like for instance, did you know that I am a homosexual orphan of millionaire parents who escaped heartbreak by moving to Forks when my pregnant fiancé died of complications following a miscarriage?"
"Um, no."
"I didn't either."
"So you're not gay."
"Would it bother you if I were?"
"Yes."
"Hmmm." His hands were still on her knees and he was leaning forward. His eyes darkened perceptibly as he took in her shallow breathing, flushed skin and trembling hands. "I'm afraid we're both walking on shaky ground, Miss Swan."
"Sounds risky. . . but fun."
"Behave yourself, young lady. I still need to work another six hours. If you keep looking at me like that I'm going to throw professionalism right out the window and the repercussions of that could be more than either of us want to face."
"What do you want?"
"I think I-"
There was a sharp rap at the door. "Doctor Cullen, I'm so sorry to interrupt, but we have a woman in labor on her way here right now and we can't reach Doctor Gerard."
"I'm on my way, Tyler. Thanks!" He stood up and Bella stood, too. His expression was conflicted and pensive. It seemed like he made a decision though, because he gave her a sexy smirk and stroked his fingers through the wispy mahogany strands of hair that framed her face. "Take care of yourself."
"You too," she replied breathlessly and then he was gone, off to welcome a new human being into the world. She sat on the verge of hyperventilating, waiting for the exhilaration of his touch to fade so she could walk through the waiting area without giving herself away.
He had given her the encouragement she needed. It was time to put her plan into action.
Bella started taking morning walks. When she got the timing just right, she passed by Doctor Cullen's house right after he returned from his run. His greetings were polite and restrained, but his eyes spoke more familiarly. She would walk past him with a quiet 'good morning', but she was boldly watching him stretching, sweat-soaked and practically steaming in the chill October air. She noticed how many curtains shifted and twitched while he stretched, the good matrons of Forks still drinking in the sight of their favorite bachelor's morning routine.
The day before Halloween, Bella carved pumpkins with her parents. Her dad insisted on doing all of the cutting, even though they were using a child-friendly pumpkin carving kit. Bella and her mom collected all of the plump seeds, washed them thoroughly and baked them with salt and oil. The house smelled wonderful, like she remembered from Halloweens past.
While the seeds were in the oven, they hung strands of fake cobwebs across the front porch then stood back several paces throwing plastic spiders in the webs, trying to make them stick. Charlie came outside to see what they were giggling about and got pelted with the fake creepy crawlies.
"Enough, enough. I'm going back inside. I just though you should know the oven timer went off five minutes ago."
"Oh no! The pumpkin seeds!" Renee cried. She ran inside and Bella followed more slowly behind, remembering the doctor's orders to go easy on her knee. The seeds turned out to be perfectly browned and the three of them gathered around to eat them and watch Charlie Brown.
"So Bella, do you have any plans tomorrow?"
"Juliette is having a Halloween party at her house, so I was going to dress up and head over there. I don't know how late it is supposed to go. Probably after midnight."
"You be safe, especially if there's alcohol there."
"Yes, Dad."
"What are you dressing up as, sweetie?"
"A vampire. I found a long red dress and a black cape at the thrift store, and I still have those pop-on fangs from the play I did in high school."
"What? No sexy bunny, kitten, nurse, French maid costumes?"
"Ugh. No. I don't want Mike Newton to try to cop a feel."
"If he does I'll happily break his hand for you."
"Thanks, Dad. I love you too."
When she went to bed, Charlie looked over to Renee and sighed. "She's not telling us everything."
"No. But she's old enough to start making her own decisions."
"Or mistakes."
"Yes. Those, too."
"I need another beer."
When Halloween evening finally arrived, Bella got dressed in her costume. She painted her nails silver and used the darkest lip liner and color she owned. She outlined her eyes with liquid black liner to mimic the goth look she'd seen other teens use. With her fake teeth glued on and the hood of her cape casting her face in shadow, she looked creepy but also seductive. Perfect.
Juliette lived only two blocks away, so Bella chose to walk, clutching her cape close to her body to shield herself from the cold. As she walked past Doctor Cullen's house, she watched him open the door to a lady bug and a bumble bee whose parents were watching from the sidewalk. His hair glowed gold under the bright porch light. He glanced up and caught her eye as she passed the end of his walkway. She looked away quickly, not wanting to give anything away. She still had three hours to kill.
Juliette was ecstatic when she came to the door and saw Bella there. She rhapsodized over her classic costume. Bella had to stifle her own laughter. True to her father's prediction she counted two bunnies, a cat, Lara Croft complete with holstered fire arms, a French maid and a very scantily clad girl scout troop leader. She had less skin exposed than most of the guys. A few guys were wearing costumes, but a majority of them were dressed in jeans with long sleeved shirts. Mike Newton sought her out immediately and tried to offer her a red plastic cup. She assumed it was beer.
"No thanks. Remember, my dad's a cop. Bad idea."
"Oh right. Of course. We're watching a movie in the other room. Do you want to sit with me?"
Bella heard the movie blasting from the living room. A drill started up followed by shrieks and screams on screen and off. "You're watching Saw? Cool. But are you sure you're okay with all the blood?"
Mike's faced blanched white than turned beet red. "Well, it's not real or anything. I mean, it's cool if you don't want to. Here let me get rid of this." He took the beer back to the kitchen and didn't return.
Bella hung out with Juliette and her other girl friends from high school. Most of them were taking classes at the community college and were comparing their impressions of different teachers and male students. She joined in here and there, but she was really watching the clock, anticipating 10 pm. With most trick-or-treating done before 9 there shouldn't be any kids roaming the streets by that time.
At 9:58 Bella decided it was time to leave. She was the only sober person left in the house. There was a jar full of keys by the front door and several make out sessions steaming up the couches and corners of the house. Nobody noticed when she slipped into the bathroom to remove her dress and ball it up into a plastic bag which she hid within her voluminous cloak. She left through the front door and walked rapidly back the way she came.
Sure enough, the streets were deserted and most of the houses were dark. The Wilson's front yard was done up like a grave yard with flashing strobe lights and fog. It was eerie to walk past with the flickering shadows disrupting her vision. She quickened her steps, anxious to be off the street and eager to reach her destination. She looked around furtively then hid her dress deep within a rhododendron bush when she reached her street. She could collect it tomorrow during her morning walk.
Bella turned up the walkway to Doctor Cullen's rental house and paused. There was a jack-o-lantern on the front step but the candle was out. The curtains were drawn and all of the lights, including the front porch light, were turned off in the universal signal to trick-or-treaters that all the candy was gone or the owners were absent. For a moment she questioned whether he was home, but the silver Volvo was parked in the carport.
She adjusted her cape to cover herself completely and visualized her end goal, Doctor Edward Cullen falling back onto his bed while she climbed on top of him, her knees braced against his ribs, riding him into ecstasy. Her mouth was watering and her knees felt weak as she rang the door bell.
Heavy steps sounded down the stairs from inside but the lights remained off. The door swung open to reveal the doctor wearing close-fitting jeans and a black t-shirt. He looked more like a college student than a licensed physician. And he was wearing his glasses. Bella swayed a little, overcome by the haze of her need.
"Aren't you a little old to be Trick-or-Treating?"
"How old is too old? Or maybe I should ask, how young is young enough?"
"That must be a trick question. Do you want me to say older, or younger?"
"That depends on what you're into. But either way, I'd like a treat." She felt brazen and bold. His eyes were fierce. She parted her lips slightly and ran the tip of her tongue across her fangs.
"Hmmm. You are a dangerous creature. But I have to ask, what exactly are you here for?"
Bella allowed her cape to fall open and cocked her hip to one side. "I already told you, Doctor Cullen. I want a treat."
She saw him swallow heavily as his eyes trailed down her body, taking in the whiteness of her skin, the shallow cleft between her breasts, and the sight of her nipples stiff from cold and excitement pressing against the red satin slip. His gaze felt like a sensual caress gliding past the slit in her slip that exposed her thigh to the brisk October night and on down her legs to her black peep-toe pumps.
"Why don't you come inside? You'll catch a cold out there dressed like that."
"Don't be silly. Vampires don't get sick," she said as she stepped over the threshold.
He was reasonably sure that nobody had seen Bella enter his house, but he scanned the houses in both directions before he closed the door just to be certain. Interest in his comings and goings had died down somewhat, but it was still there, simmering beneath the surface.
"I can't offer you a drink, but I can at least act like a gentleman and take your cloak, Miss Swan."
"Why don't you call me Isabella, for tonight at least?" Bella released the tie at her throat and allowed her cape to slip from her shoulders into his waiting hands. She heard his breath catch for a moment and then his hands were resting on her shoulders. She shivered and tipped her head back, feeling her hair hanging loose, brushing against the top of her butt.
"Hmmm. Isabella. How is your hand?" He ran his fingertips down over her biceps to the crook of her elbow and then around and up along her triceps. The sensitive skin quivered and she let out a breathy gasp.
"As good as new, thanks to a very talented doctor I know. I've even been doing all of my physical therapy. But I'm sure my hands could use some more work if you have any grasping exercises you would like me to try."
"I would suggest allowing your fingers another few days before trying any grabbing, lifting, pulling or squeezing motions. But I do recommend meditation and relaxation exercises."
"What should I do to help me relax?" Bella turned around to face him, quirking her lip seductively.
"Well, for one thing, those shoes can't be very comfortable. Let me help you take them off."
He knelt down in front of her, lifted her left foot and rested it on his thigh. He brought his hands to her right calf, wrapping his long fingers around her and stroking the tender skin behind her knee with his fingertips. Bella squirmed at the sensation and had to grab his shoulder for balance. His hands crept ever so slowly down her calf. With one hand around her ankle and the other at her heel, he removed her shoe and set her bare foot down next to his knee. He repeated the motion with her left foot, swirling his fingertips across her arch before setting her foot down on the other side.
"I also recommend gentle massage." She looked down at him, kneeling between her feet. He ran his hands from her Achilles to her hamstrings, tracing the curves of muscles and the taut tendons. She shook with anticipation as his hands swept beneath her slip and stopped just beneath her butt. Doctor Cullen's thumbs rested below her hip joint and his fingers put a gentle, spreading pressure on her inner thighs. One inch higher and he would be touching her sex. One inch higher and he would know she was bare beneath her slip.
But he didn't raise his hands higher. Instead, he pulled more forcefully until she spread her feet a few inches further apart.
"And after your massage, you should have an earth shattering orgasm. Mmm. I can taste you in the air, Isabella." His voice dropped lower as he spoke. He brushed his lips across her thighs, back and forth, the red satin catching against his whiskers and pulling sideways with each pass of his lips. He exhaled roughly and she felt a rush of heated air slip between her parted thighs. Her stomach clenched in response.
"You're the doctor. I trust your judgment. But who can fill my prescription?"
"Only I can. Put your hands on my shoulders," he instructed. She rested her palms on his shoulders feeling the pull of muscle against bone as he increased the outward pressure on her thighs. She slipped her feet sideways on the carpet and bent her knees slightly. He caught the fabric of her slip with his lips and rose up part way on his knees, lifting her skirt in the process. He raised it higher with his thumbs, bunching it at her hips until she felt his breath against her bare flesh. She felt rather than heard him groan when he saw her. "Beautiful. . ." he whispered, kissing her softly. He continued to kiss her, brushing his lips against hers, occasionally tasting her with his tongue. Bella clutched at his shoulders, impulsively pulling him closer, demanding that he help her release the pressure that was building deep within her stomach.
"Patience, Isabella."
"Please. . ."
"Please what?" He chuckled, his hot breath caressing her lust slickened skin.
"I want to come."
"Don't worry. I'll make you come. I have all the treats you need to be satisfied." Without warning, he grabbed her with one arm behind her thighs and the other across her back. He bent over until she lay on the carpet beneath him, her slip bunched up around her waist, her arms over her head and her feet wide apart.
He crawled backwards, nudged her thighs further apart with his elbows, and lowered his mouth to kiss her again. He explored her body with his lips first, and then his tongue, stroking, kissing, then sucking and nibbling. Within minutes, Bella was writhing beneath him. He persisted in his attention, making her shake and cry out. She felt a pressure building steadily in her throat. It mirrored the swelling heat that grew within her womb, expanding until tendrils of fire crawled across her limbs and lapped at the base of her skull.
He let out a ferocious growl that sent shock waves of lust though her core. He grabbed her thighs, spread her knees even further, and attacked her with his mouth.
Her senses imploded. She sprang free from gravity, unbound and uninhibited as she shrieked out her mind-bending ecstasy. "Edward!" Her body could not contain the sensation. As her orgasm swept through, her back arched and every muscle in her body contracted in simultaneous, wrenching waves of pleasure. He licked her in time to her convulsions, feeling her clench, moist and swollen against his lips. The waves gradually receded, taking her with them, leaving behind a limp, gasping shell.
Bella tasted blood. She had punctured her lip with one of her false teeth. She licked the wound, tasting copper on her tongue and a sultry sweetness in the air. Doctor Cullen was kneeling between her thighs, his fingers drawing languid patterns against her skin. He was examining her expression. She blushed beneath his gaze and he grinned.
"Now you look relaxed. If you come back after dinner on Tuesday, Ms. Swan, I'll help you come up with some exercises for your hand."
She eyed the rigid shape within his jeans and licked her lips again. When she returned, she planned to exercise more than just her hands.
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