Stephenie Meyer owns any Twilight characters that may appear in this story. The remainder is my original work. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without my express written authorization. Copyright January 2010 by Word Ninja.

A/N: Ok, so I feel like I should post a warning here, but I don't want to give anything away. Just remember there's an M rating for a reason.

Big Sky

CHAPTER 4

"Where we love is home.
Home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts."
~Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr.

The rest of Bella's day passed in a haze of sweat and heat. She worked out all the frustration she felt on the chores, tackling each of them like she was going to war with it and taking no prisoners. When she finished laying clean straw in the last stable she was nearly thirty minutes ahead of her normal schedule.

Nothing like working off frustration to get things done quickly.

Or make you feel like you wrestled with a bear and lost.

Rolling her shoulders painfully as she walked from the stable into the sweltering afternoon sunlight, she knew that she would regret her ferocious attack on the chores when she woke tomorrow with achingly tight muscles. For the moment though, she was glad. She was going to need the few extra minutes to get rid of the rest of her anger before she left for the Cullen's. Carlisle and Esme were so wonderful, and she didn't want to take her bad mood with her into their home.

Even if it is mostly their son's fault, a snide voice in her head whispered.

When Edward had laughed at her in the barn, she'd been not only furious, but embarrassed as well. And then she'd been pissed again for feeling embarrassed about falling in front of him. Why did she care what he thought of her?

She'd managed to hold on to that self-righteous anger long enough to finish the conversation, albeit a little abruptly. But he'd kept staring at her with his intense eyes, and she'd seen the laughter hidden behind the calm coolness. Embarrassment had crept over her slowly, making her stomach twist into slimy knots and forcing her eyes from his. As soon as she'd sensed her exit, she'd damn near run from him, out into the open air where she could breathe deeply and not smell him in each breath. The smell of sweat and soap; something primal in her couldn't help but react to. It was a clean, hard-working smell, one that made her heart beat erratically and her mouth go dry as a desert.

She hated that smell, and the way her traitorous body responded instantly to it.

So she'd thrown herself into her work, mucking out the long rows of stalls and putting fresh straw down. Using a pitchfork to break up the heavy bales was tough work that used every ounce of strength she had. Each time she lifted the straw and released it from the end of the pitchfork with a practiced shake of her wrist, she let go of a little bit of irritation. The rest of it she'd sweated out, too tired to hold onto it anymore.

Finally walking into her house at 5:30 that evening, she left her muddy boots at the door and went straight to the shower. Turning the hot water all the way up, a low moan escaped her mouth when she stepped under the spray. Bella closed her eyes in the steam and felt the tension leaving her body.

Feeling fully refreshed as she stepped out onto the cool tile floor, she glanced at the clock as she wrapped a towel around her.

5:40. Plenty of time to be there by 6:00.

She didn't wear make-up, or blow dry her hair, or fuss with her clothes. Not that she couldn't, should an occasion call for it, but it was ridiculous to put her spare minutes into primping.

For who, the horses? I'm sure they'd love it if I work mascara to the barn.

Spare minutes were practically nonexistent for Bella, and they weren't to be squandered lightly. Blow dryers and makeup definitely fell into the "lightly squandered" heading of time management.

Her one concession was to use her mother's lotion on her face and arms. The light scents of lemon and honeysuckle relaxed and energized her at the same time, and brought Renee immediately to mind.

One of Renee's short-lived passions had been aroma therapy. She read books on how to make essential oils out of the local flora and fauna, learned how to put them into lotions and soaps. Everyone they knew had received a basket of soap and lotion for that year. Renee's favorite had been the lemon and honeysuckle lotion; it reminded her of waking up happy each day. She'd gone overboard in her production, making three giant vats full of the stuff, enough to fill over fifty of the bottles she used to store it. It was easily a lifetime's supply of scented lotion, and such a classically Renee thing to do. She was always diving in headfirst with a big splash, only to find herself over her head and quickly bored.

Smiling a little at her reflection at the memory of her flighty, adoring mother, Bella took a moment to center herself.

You can do this Bella. Dinner at the Cullen's, something you've done more times than you can count. Besides, it's been too long since you just spent time with other people outside of the ranch, and that's probably not healthy. Esme and Alice will be thrilled, and you know you'll have a great time. You always do.

Feeling her confidence bolstered, she left the bathroom and walked across the wooden floor to her closet. While Alice and Esme both despaired of what they considered "the deepest depths of fashion depravity" (a direct quote from Alice), Bella didn't see the reason to fill the space just because it was there. She had rows of work jeans, a few pairs of nicer jeans, and one pair of high dollar designer jeans Alice had talked her into buying last year.

Alice had sensed an easy target when she saw Bella turning in slow circles in front of the mirror, admiring how they fit her like they were custom made, the perfectly faded blue color. Five minutes of constant praise from Alice was all it took. Bella was signing her credit card receipt before she could regret spending such a ridiculous amount on one pair of jeans.

She'd only worn them three times in the year she'd owned them. Once on a date with Mike Newton, a guy she'd known vaguely from school and met one day at the feed store. He had been attentive and nearly drooling over her, which made her ego bloom, enough so that when he'd asked her on a date she'd quickly said yes.

The date had been alright, although she quickly grew tired of Mike's sidelong glances at her chest and butt, and his bland sense of humor. Still she had decided that if he tried to kiss her goodnight, she would let him. She'd felt pretty good about that until they'd reached her front door. Her good feeling had ended quickly when he'd leaned in to kiss her under the porch light. She'd left her eyes open for a moment longer than him, and the expression on his face had made her laugh out loud.

He looks like a freaking Golden Retriever Bella. With squinchy eyes and wet-looking fish lips.

Unable to hold back her laughter, even after his eyes had flown open in shock. Her arms were clutching her sides, she could feel hot tears rolling down her cheeks, and still she couldn't stop giggling like a hyper twelve year old. The poor guy had simply stared wide-eyed at her, then turned and walked quietly back to his car, slamming the door and throwing gravel as he backed out of the drive way. Bella was still laughing when all that was left was a smudge of dust rising at the end of the street, just before it went out of sight.

Pulling herself together, she had walked inside feeling guilt and remorse slithering out from the dark places they hid. She had tried laughing again, but it had made her feel almost nauseous with guilt.

What the hell is wrong with you Bella? He was nice, kind of sweet, and he thought you were beautiful. He wanted to kiss you goodnight for Christ's sake, and you laughed in his scrunched up face. If someone did that to you it would be awful.

She'd called Mike the next day to apologize, working up her nerve for two hours before she'd allowed the line to ring. After saying she hadn't known what came over her, and hearing dead silence for a few very awkward moments, she was about to say something, anything, when he did first.

"Whatever. You're just a dumb cunt. No wonder the guys told me not to waste my time. I like hot-blooded women, not frigid bitches."

The phone clicked as he disconnected, but Bella hadn't heard it. Her ears were filled with a strange rushing sound like wind flying by her, and her stomach clenched up so tightly she had to double over, dropping the phone as she pressed her arms into her belly.

No one had ever said anything like that to her in her life. She had never attracted enough attention to make anyone really go out of their way to be nice or mean to her. She was just the background to their spotlight. But he had called her a cunt, a word that held one of the highest ranks on her list-of-things-you-never-say. He had called her a frigid bitch, which was almost as bad. And what did he mean, saying he had been told not to waste his time. Told by whom? And why?

Who was it that claimed she was a waste of time, and felt the need to warn others away from her? Someone she knew, a friend? And why was she a waste of time? Or a frigid bitch?

They think you're a waste of time because you're a frigid bitch Bella. Whoever "they" is.

Suddenly the questions had flown too quickly through her mind, their erratic patterns making her dizzy and unbalanced. The answer, that she could not unthink now that she had thought, made her stomach lurch horribly.

She had barely made it to the sink before she emptied her stomach. Nearly an hour later she'd lain her head on the counter, exhausted both physically and mentally. She'd felt so terrible the entire time, helpless and hopeless with the thought that people saw her as cold and unfeeling. She didn't think she was either.

Just because I didn't flirt with every guy in school like Alice, or say yes to any of the guys in college, that doesn't make me cold. They just didn't do it for to me.

And in a quiet voice, just after that, "No one does it for me like Edward does."

Which was complete and utter bullshit. She'd told herself she was beyond caring about Edward, he was a childhood crush, puppy love at it's finest. He would not rule her every thought and waking dream.

But as she had slowly lifted her head from the sink, she realized she had done just that. She had subconsciously compared every prospective date with Edward, and each had come up lacking. She hadn't given anyone a chance to let her down, because who could compare with Edward? Despite all his flaws and bad characteristics, something deep inside her...quivered...every time she thought of him, much less was near him.

And now she was paying the price. She'd been waiting for a man she knew would never come, and even worse, she'd denied it to herself for years. Now she was a frigid-waste-of-time-bitch.

Shaking her head against that still-powerful memory, Bella looked past the designer jeans to her everyday pairs. Taking the closest pair at hand, she remembered the second and third time she'd worn them. To a seedy motel outside of Raleigh, North Carolina, with a man whose last name she didn't know.

Bella had flown to North Carolina with Alice, to help her friend pick some new stock for the Cullen ranch. They spent the entire day walking from horse to horse, getting slowly covered in dust and chaff. Once they'd gotten back to the hotel room, Alice had proclaimed the immediate need to "woman-up". It was a patented Alice phrase that meant hours of primping and polishing followed by hours of flirting and fucking. Alice's definition.

Bella would normally have chained herself to the bed or run screaming from the room, but had immediately recalled Mike's comments.

"...frigid bitch..."

And something primal had reared it's ugly head, turning every fiber of female in her on full alert. She would show "them" hot. She was in a strange town, full of strange people whom she'd never see again. If she couldn't cut loose here, where could she?

So she'd sat patiently in her chair as Alice plucked, pulled, brushed and powdered her into beauty. Dressed in her designer jeans, her good boots, and Alice's sexy tank top, Bella felt ready to woman-up all night long.

Which was exactly what she'd done. Buying her second beer at the crowded bar, she felt some someone knock her elbow. Turning automatically, she'd met a pair of light blue eyes nearly covered with shaggy, reddish-brown hair. When he'd grinned, she grinned back, feeling high on confidence and alcohol.

Two hours later she'd been screaming his name as she came almost painfully. They'd met again the next night, before she'd left town, and again she'd been amazed by her powerful climax. The entire plane ride back she'd giggled with Alice about what she'd done, feeling half proud and half ashamed at her reckless abandon. Alice has shrugged saying that ever girl had needs to be met, and Bella wasn't exempt.

She'd held on to that feeling of empowerment until she'd driven past the Cullen's house on the way to her own.

He looked like Edward.

She'd slammed on the brakes, throwing up a cloud of dust as her tires locked up.

His light blue eyes were almost sea green, and his hair was just a few shades away from being copper.

She'd made love to a stranger with more passion than she'd known she was capable of, because she'd made him into Edward. An Edward she could touch, who would touch her back.

The designer jeans had sat on their shelf since she'd unpacked her suitcases from North Carolina.

Reaching past the simple cotton tee shirts she wore to work in every day, she took out her most presentable blouse. It was thin cotton in the palest yellow, dotted with tiny blue flowers, and when she wore it she felt like summertime. Happy and cheerful and carefree.

Exactly how she wanted to feel tonight.

Dragging a brush quickly through her damp hair, she gave herself a once over in the mirror.

Calm and relaxed, Bella, calm and relaxed.

I will be utterly unfazed by Edward Stupid Cullen.

Pulling on her broken-in boots, she walked out her front door, towards the Cullen's place.

* * *

The dry summer air lay heavy on the land. The earth itself radiated out the heat it soaked up throughout the mercilessly sunny day. All around her was the sound of insects buzzing and humming; somewhere in the distance she could hear the unmistakable low pitched growl of a tractor running. Every breath she took was filled with searing heat and the smell of sun-baked earth. She could feel the familiar lethargy settling over her, relaxing her muscles, making her eyelids droop slightly. Summer days in Big Sky always had the same effect on Bella.

They made her want to take a nap.

There was something about the heavy heat, surrounding her like a blanket. Despite any efforts on her part, she couldn't fight the lazy stretches and slow smiles that seemed to go hand in hand with the afternoon hours. And now more than ever, she felt that comfortable sleepiness overtake her, loosening her limbs and muscles. Working long days didn't help her fight the languor.

The eighty yard walk to the Cullen place was fairly short, but she still paused for a moment under the giant cottonwood tree that stood on the boundary between her land and theirs. The shadows there were like cool blue velvet, refreshing her heated skin. It only lasted the space of a handful of steps, and soon she was back in the heat and bright light.

By the time she reached the Cullen's porch, tiny strands of hair had curled loosely into damp ringlets around her face, and she could feel sweat beading between her breasts and along her collarbones. She could also feel her heart racing as if she had sprinted the entire way.

Relax Bella, just chill out. You've been coming here your entire life, and you've never had any problems making yourself at home. Nothing has changed since the last time you were here.

But something had changed. This time Edward was in there.

Stop it Bella. Do not give Edward Cullen that much credit. You're an adult, and you have complete control of yourself and your emotions. Just be polite and civil and forget the rest...

...like the fact that his eyes turn your insides into an entire field of butterflies...

Ugh.

Rolling her shoulders back resolutely, Bella knocked on the massive front door. She could hear loud voices inside, and the sound of heavy things being moved; she recognized the normal soundtrack for a big family gathered together for dinner, but part of her thought how strange it was. Dinner at her house was usually a party of one. When things got too quiet, or she just wanted the company, she'd join the ranch hands for dinner in their cabin. Harry was always so happy to see her, and made the guys stay on their best behavior which Bella found hilarious. The dirtiest joke she'd ever heard from any of them was the old "a white horse fell in a mud puddle". But Harry had told her one about a nun and a priest on her eighteenth birthday, after a bit too much home brew, that had made her blush like hellfire and run the other way.

Bella couldn't hear any appreciable change in the noise level inside, so she knocked harder then turned to look out over the Cullen's land.

The land rolled out for miles around her, gentle hills and valleys growing into mountains in the distance. The emerald green lowlands went on for miles, darkened here and there with deep blue lines of evergreens and golden fields of tall grasses, waving gently in the breeze. The mountains were navy and deep purple, their highest peaks dusted with pristine snow that never melted. As a child, she had imagined them as a group of kings, all wearing majestic purple and royal blue robes with white fur around their collars.

And above it all was the giant bowl of the Montana sky, a fierce, eye-watering blue, stretching as far as the eye could see in every direction. Giant white clouds billowed up into towers and peaks before shifting into horses and dragons as they drifted slowly across it. It was no wonder people called Montana Big Sky; there were places outside the bustling cities, out in the prairies and mountains, where the sky seemed huge, endless and intimidating in it's vastness.

She'd loved to go out as a child and lay in the tall grass, staring up at that endless blue and daydreaming hours away with her mountain kings or the sky castles made of white cotton candy. When she'd been a little older, she'd taken her mother's poetry collections with her. Renee had had many loves, most of them fleeting hobbies quickly forgotten in the excitement of the next thing. But poetry had been one of her lasting loves, and she'd shared it with Bella at an early age. Bella would read everything from Tennyson to Dickinson, and loved it all equally.

Hearing the door open behind her she came out of her reverie and turned with a smile, expecting Esme or Carlisle to be smiling back. It wasn't Esme, it was Edward, and he was giving her the strangest look. Self-consciously she started to raise her hand towards her hair, then determinedly she put it down again. Screw him if he didn't like the way she looked, she wasn't going to care.

Remember what you said Bella. You're in charge, not him.

He could go find one of those slick glossy women he supposedly preferred. Since he'd been back every woman who still had her wits about her had been busy dissecting his love life, telling little details heard from so-and-so, who knew from thus-and-such, who said that he liked his women like Italian sports cars. Sleek, sexy, and hot as hell.

And since I fall into none of those categories, and haven't the least desire to, I have absolutely no reason to care what the divine Lo Cullen thinks of my appearance.

She stood there facing him for a moment, feeling the smile fade off her cheeks despite her reinforced resolve not to wilt under his stare. Edward just continued to give her that inscrutable look, drawing a second out into five, making Bella want to shift her feet and look away. Nervously she ran her tongue across her bottom lip. He was looking at her like she was a stranger, or a salesman interrupting his dinner.

What, does he think I'm going to try and sell him a vacuum or something?

Bella couldn't help but smile at the thought, and then he was giving her his little quirked-lips grin, moving aside so she could enter the house.

"Esme is in the kitchen trying not to strangle Alice. She said just go on in." And with that Edward left her in the foyer to walk into the next room, where she could hear Emmett and Carlisle arguing over whatever sports game was on the television.

From zero to sixty in two seconds flat. No surprise I'm left in the dust then. One second he's staring at you like he's trying to see every thought you've ever had, the next he's just the boy who lives next door sending you off to his little sister.

Except he's obviously not a boy now. No boy has ever done so little to make you react so much.

For that matter, no man has either.

Pausing a moment to stabilize herself, Bella breathed calmly, willing her heartbeat to slow. She was being ridiculous.

Face it Bella, you've moved beyond ridiculous and into totally fucking loony. In the space of moments, Edward has made you feel self-conscious, worried, and...well, let's be honest, animal lust. This mood-shifting thing has got to calm down before your head explodes trying to keep up. You don't have to act like a hormonal teenager around him just because every other woman does. Leave the mood swings to Cullen, he's obviously a pro.

Feeling mostly in control of herself once more, she put her ice-cold fingers against her flaming cheeks to cool them. She was amazed at how one person could have so many different effects on her at the same time, and all against her will.

That's Edward; cold one second, hot the next, and no warning in between to prepare for the next shock.

Sighing quietly she placed her hand on the swinging door separating the kitchen from the huge foyer.

Screw Edward. My stomach is tied up in knots, my inner thighs feel like they may give out at any second, and all he did was smile.

Bastard.

Walking into the huge kitchen, Bella put on a huge smile as she hugged Esme, then Alice, and said,

"Okay, tell me what I can do."

Both of them started talking at once, something Bella had counted on. She knew trying to keep up with their speed-chatter would leave her brain no time to think about Edward.

"Oh Bella, I'm always so happy to see you. You get more and more beautiful each day."

As she felt Esme's tiny arms wrap her in a hug, a strange combination of longing and loyalty overcame her. She had dearly missed feeling hugs, and yet she felt almost as if she was betraying her mother by accepting another's love in her stead.

You're being ridiculous again Bella. Let's not make a habit of this okay?

Esme was like Renee's sister, and neither of them would expect you to feel guilty about the love Esme gives you. Renee would have been thrilled to know you were looking to her best friend for affection and advice. Quit being weird.

She laughed as Esme led her across the massive kitchen, already confused about what Alice and Esme were telling her. Both of them had started talking at the same time, and neither of them stopped for the other. Instead, they answered each other in the middle of their own statements, jumping in whenever they wanted, and they expected Bella to do the same. As she sat down at the long wooden farm table the Cullen's ate on, she felt a tug of sad nostalgia tightening her throat.

She had sat at this table with Alice more times than she could remember, a box of crayons strewn between them as they attempted masterpieces. Renee had colored with them, making quick cartoons of the girls that showed surprising insight and accuracy. They would laugh at the little thought bubbles Renee put above their heads, and Esme would pretend she was a snooty French art dealer, coming to buy their work. Which made them all laugh even harder.

When she'd been a little older, it had been text books and notes covering the table, as she and Alice struggled through chemistry homework. Carlisle would help them in his patient way, guiding them slowly toward the answers without ever giving it away. Renee and Esme would recall their high school days when Carlisle had helped them in the library after classes, which inevitably led to bringing up one of Renee's many suitors for a detailed discussion. Regardless of the guy, Renee and Esme would end up giggling like girls, drawing their daughters into the conversation by asking about boys they liked. Bella had found those times mortifying, since her only crush was Edward. Her answers had been purposely vague and evasive, which only caused Renee and Esme to dig harder. Bella would try her best to cover her flaming face with her hair as Renee and Esme asked pointed questions about her "mystery crush". They'd actually spent years going around and around, naming most of the boys in the area at one time or another in their efforts to unmask her crush.

Once, in a rare and mortifying moment of clarity, Renee had asked Bella point blank if it was Edward. Thankfully Esme must have noticed the terror in Bella's eyes and laughed and said she only dreamed of Edward finding a girlfriend as good as Bella. From there the conversation had steered onto Edward's love life, which was about as far away from Bella as any topic could be.

Where Bella had been reticent to the extreme, Alice had been shameless, discussing the boy who currently held her heart with relish. Esme and Renee would end up gasping for air between bursts of laughter as she told about how one kissed like a lizard and another stuffed a pair of socks down his pants to look better endowed. Carlisle would make his escape quickly then, his face bright red, and it would become a girl's-only time, full of secret sharing and laugh-induced tears.

So many happy times at this table. So many of Renee's smiles, her laughter, even her tears.

Feeling her own eyes prickle hotly, she tried to shake off her gloom. She needed to stop dwelling on the past, and move on with her life. She was lucky to have so many memories of her mother here. They were bittersweet but warm and all she had now. It was best to enjoy it. Tucking her sadness away into the deepest part of her heart, she threw herself into helping them finish setting up for dinner.

Esme in the kitchen was like a fish in water, but with much more style. She was always impeccably dressed; even her barn jeans were designer. She always looked like she'd come straight from a salon; perfect hair, perfect skin, perfect nails. Needless to say, she and Rose had taken to each other like...well, a fish to water. Despite her meticulous appearance Esme wasn't scared to get dirty and she adored working in the stables as much as she loved working in the kitchen.

Listening to Esme's instructions on where to place the food on the table, and trying to keep up with Alice's running narrative on a new designer she was in love with, the new stallion Carlisle had brought home which she was in love with, and a dress she'd seen in town that Bella would be in love with.

This is home, even if it's not my home.

Feeling sufficiently buoyed by that thought, Bella joined in their laughing conversation as best she could and felt the last bit of tension leave her. She was herself once again, and no one would change that.

* * *

Edward sat in the spacious living room, perched on the arm of an old blue chair his mother had told him countless times was for sitting in not sitting on. His mother's advice was the last thing on his mind right then, as was the continued arguing between Carlisle and Emmett. He needed a moment to get his head straight. Because after he'd opened the door to see Bella, looking wistfully out at the land, then smiling at him like the sun, he'd felt...odd. Almost like the sick feeling he felt as an elevator first jerked to a start, like his stomach had been left behind as his body rushed upward. When she'd smiled, he couldn't keep the answering smile from his face.

She'd looked so breathtakingly beautiful, and he had seen few traces of the girl she'd been in the stunning woman before him. Her fair skin had been glowing and flushed. Her dark brown eyes slightly widened in surprise, and in the almost-setting sun he could see glints of gold in them.

Like a hidden treasure...

Her face had been surrounded by tiny stray curls of auburn silk, and there had been tiny beads of sweat between her cleavage, just barely visible above her shirt. For a moment, the only thought in Edward's head had been tracing his tongue slowly from drop to drop, tasting the skin along her collar bone to see if it was as sweet as it looked.

Her smile had brought him back from the fantasy taking hold in his mind. She'd grinned up at him like a kid on Christmas morning, her smile damn near shooting out rays of light to rival the sun.

She was Bella Swan for Christ's sake, not some barfly he could fuck and forget. The quiet little mouse who'd played with his sister, shyly knocking on the door with her chin tucked into her chest making her hair fall across her face. The daughter of his mother's dead best friend, whom both of his parents looked at like a daughter. The same girl he'd left in Montana without second thought. Or even a first one.

But she wasn't nearly as interesting then as she is now, he thought, then shook his head at himself. When she'd sucked on her bloodied knuckle in the barn, he'd felt lust like a quick punch in his stomach. And seeing her tongue dart out to trace her full lower lip set off warning bells, in both heads.

Sure, she was pretty, even beautiful in the late afternoon light. She'd even been downright seductive in an innocent way, licking her lip with that little kitten tongue. But she wasn't his type. His type was fast and shiny, demanding nothing more than physical love. The women he wanted were like new toys he would quickly tire of before moving on to the next.

Bella was anything but fast and shiny. Everything about her said "stay away". Her fuck-off attitude towards him being the least of it. Edward had enough experience with women to know if one was...experienced. Bella wasn't. The way she moved away from him like a skittish colt whenever he was too close for comfort, looking anywhere but in his eyes, he could tell she wasn't comfortable around him. And since she had no reason to be skittish around him specifically, she must be that way around all men. No one who was uneasy around men had the kind of control over their emotions that Edward wanted.

She hadn't been boring or frightened in his imagination, writhing with passion and sliding her sweat-slicked skin over his...

Stop thinking with your dick, Cullen, and go get laid before you do something stupid. She's an attractive women you haven't slept with; of course your natural reaction is to imagine her naked in your sheets.

Her place in his parent's life meant she wasn't to be played with lightly. And Edward wanted to play.

Again, sex is the answer. Go have some and then you won't think about undoing the buttons of her shirt to see if the skin beneath it was as smooth as the skin above it. You'll stop wondering if she wears cotton or lace under her broken-in jeans. You won't think anything of her at all, and this... uncomfortable fascination will end.

Feeling pleased with is decision, he dropped into the seat of the chair, and told Emmett he must be as blind as a bat if he couldn't tell that the ref's call was bogus. Was he also loosing his abilities in...other areas? He'd heard that was common in the old and infirm.

Emmett reacted predictably, telling Edward he could still take him anytime, anywhere. Shaking his head at the both of them, Carlisle stood up just as Esme called out that dinner was ready. Never one to let anything stand in the way of his next meal, especially not his mother's cooking, Emmett stopped mid-sentence and walked towards the kitchen. Edward and Carlisle shared a rueful grin and eye roll at Emmett's controlling appetites, then followed him towards the delicious smells coming from the kitchen.

* * *

A/N: Wow, I have been emotional about this chapter, I'm not gonna lie. It went from my least favorite to my favorite. That was only possible due to some AMAZING people.

My beta, Lady Draco Violet, is quite simply the best. She is patient with my extravagant comma usage, even though she swears she's going to take the key from my keyboard.

Also, two of the greatest reviewers ever : rameau, who has dedicated almost 10000 characters to the first 3 chapters, all of it useful. (I'm not worthy!)

And bookjunkie1975, who gets what I'm saying, and helps me say it better. Crank that sucker up to 11!

For the rest of you who've read this far...I have some great news. In Chapter 5, Bella and Edward have actual conversation. Yeah, mmmhmmm, I know. Taken me long enough, right?