Down on the Bayou

by kitkat681

Her hair is blonde, but it shouldn't be. The beard on my face is all wrong. She's used to the best of the best, not living in a shack on the Bayou. They have us hidden away for our safety. They didn't care about our sanity. Drabble-ish. Bella/Edward pairing.

1. Chapter 1

Um...hi again. This will not be a daily drabble, as the chapters are a bit longer and I'm busy as fuck.

I'm thinking two or three chapters a week...more if I get some more chapters in the bank.

My drabble girls, Edward's Eternal and BellaEdwardlover1991 are with me, as always - but any mistakes are mine as I usually mess around with the chapters after they've seen them. *blushes*

And after all that shit...I now give you...'Down on the Bayou'

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The thick length of my beard tickled my throat as I looked down at the end of my line.

Fuck…another boot.

I wasn't sure how much longer I could take the boredom.

Fishing wasn't fun.

Living in a shack wasn't fun.

Being a resident of the state of Alabama wasn't fun.

But I guess it was better than being dead.

"How are they biting, dear?"

I looked over my shoulder at my wife and realized there was one good thing about the South.

It was always so damn hot, you had to wear as few clothes as possible.

Which was why there were miles of skin on display for my viewing pleasure at the moment.

I started at her feet, loving the chipped polish that graced her elegant toes.

Her tiny white shorts left nothing to the imagination and I could tell there was not a thing beneath the fabric.

Hello commando.

Her tank top was tied off at her waist, leaving her smooth, tanned stomach visible.

The crowning glory was the way her hair was piled on top of her head, her long neck just begging for my lips.

The smirk on her face made me realize she was still waiting for a response and I shook my head and tried to remember what the fuck she'd asked me.

Fish…right.

"They're not. I think the beavers must have broken through one of the levees up north. I'll have to take a ride up there and see why the water's not flowing."

I gazed up at her as she cocked her leg out to the side and shifted her weight, her muscles popping enticingly.

"Well if you think I'm going with you, you have another thing coming," she spat, waving her hand around her face to ward off the mosquitoes.

"Bella, darlin', if I took you with me, I'd be too tempted to toss your ass overboard."

So yeah...I am in no way making fun of anyone who lives in Alabama, the South, on the Bayou or eats beaver.

See you...soon-ish.