A/N: I accept that many aspects of this story are not my own creation, utilizing both Stephanie Meyer's characters and a Hallmark movie plot line. I am not the owner of anything, and no copyright infringement is intended in anyway. In my head, Twilight characters asked to be these movie characters; colliding the two into what I would consider the ultimate form of fan flattery, fan fiction. Thank you in advance to everyone who follows, reads, and comments.
BELLA
My feet hit the ground, kicking glassy granules against my calves as I cross the familiar stretch of LaPush Beach. Daily, under a near-constant cover of clouds, I zip up a light moisture-wicking jacket and lace up my sneakers. I enjoy everything about the run, but what I like most is the scene around me. Although the sky is often gloomy, its not near the omnipresent shade my mother, Renee would have you believe she escaped. Prominent verdant vegetation lines steep silvery slopes that lead to golden dunes before they slowly fade into an endless indigo ocean.
As my heart rate picks up, I am reminded of the miserable summers I spent with my mom in Florida as a teenager. The sweat beginning to bead and roll between my breasts brings back the feeling of unrelenting humidity. A light rain sprinkles down on me and quickly washes away any thoughts I have of the south's blistering sun. After my first run at my mom's I decided to always live full-time with my dad, Charlie. All twenty-six years of my life I've called Forks home.
"Good morning," I greet a jogger passing. He nods, earbuds securely in place. Clearly he doesn't hear me. I could have said Food Warning for all he cared.
"Hey, Bells," a familiar voice approaches me from behind. I turn to see Jake's friendly smile and quickly pick up my pace to keep up with him now.
"Hi, Jake," I pause and catch my breath, "How'd your wife like her birthday gift?"
"It was a great idea, Bells," Jake's grin grew exponentially when he spoke of his wife, Nessa. "She absolutely loved the collectors edition of Guy Endore's The Werewolf in Paris. She was even more shocked when she saw the plane tickets to Paris hidden behind the dust jacket." He is excited to share details of their upcoming vacation. He tells me about how he recently sold a car he'd been restoring to afford this luxury. I am glad Jake is doing the talking. I need all the oxygen I can to survive his gait.
Jake stops suddenly and turns to me, "I truly can't thank you enough for letting me know about the Endore re-release. It's her favorite book."
"Aw, you're welcome. What are friends for? Plus, it is kind of my job." I nudge his shoulder with mine and then give him a little tilt of my head to suggest he should go ahead of me. Jake makes running seem effortless.
He winks and takes off, yelling over his shoulder, "Tell Masen I said, put a ring on it!" His voice fades as he gets further away and I can't help but roll my eyes. Not all of us get the royal treatment like Nessa.
Show off.
I spin on my heels, causing a skid mark to form underneath me in the sand. I look in the direction of my truck, although I can't see it, and contemplate my jog back. Just then, my phone plays a happy tune. Glancing down, I see Masen's name brightly light up the display. Now, I'm just as bad as Jake with the knowing grin forming from ear to ear across my face. My cheeks are hot with anticipation. I can't lie, Masen does make me feel like a princess.
Answering energetically, I quip, "Hey, babe, ready for our hot date?"
On the other end, a delectable British accent greets me, "Are you burning off morning energy while I have yet to have a cup of coffee?"
"You're considering coffee, not tea? Have I finally brought you over to the dark side? The dark roast side," certainly Masen can hear the smile in my voice as I ask the question.
"Maybe," He answers with a laugh of his own. "Are we still on for this evening, darling? I'm going to stop by the recording studio for a bit, but then I'm all yours."
I'm already yours, Masen.
"Absolutely. But first I have to go home and shower. Then I have to familiarize a few hundred books with their 'ole friend Dewey Decimal."
"Now, this Dewey guy, do I need to be worried about him?" Masen's voice is suddenly serious but I know he's joking. He's always doing his best to plaster a smile on my face.
"Very funny," I throw back at him sarcastically. "Dewey is actually a very well read man. You should step up your game." Putting on a snooty air about my voice, I continue, "I may be tiring of having a struggling musician for a boyfriend. I want to move up in the world. I need an intellectual. Dewey can recite pi to at least ten decimals."
I hear him stifle a laugh on the other end, "Three point one four one..." He begins to trail off and I know Masen will die trying to impress me.
"I'll see you later," I interrupt before he embarrasses himself.
"Until then, Love," he closes the conversation and ends the call.
