I fancied playing house with my little family.

I liked to experience humanity via my daughter's partial human body—as I had with Bella when she was still a girl. When Nessie ate or yawned or hiccuped, I delighted in it. I was obsessed with it.

But my nature makes me a roamer, a traveler, a journeyman. I am a fast driver and an even faster runner. I can be very, very still, but only for so long.

Intuiting this, my oldest brother's extraordinary insight told him that I needed a getaway—especially since the most recent element to my domestic life had been introduced. Our camping trip would provide me just the right amount of adventure tempered with a beneficial blend of brother bonding.

That's what Jasper was thinking anyway when we left that afternoon for our holiday.

We had driven Emmett's Jeep to Port Angeles and taken the ferry across the Canadian border to Vancouver Island. My brothers had loaded up with camping gear to appear legitimate when we passed through customs. Normally, we would have swum across the sound and avoided all this dragging, but Jasper had packed items he didn't want to get wet.

After parking just inside the Pacific Rim Park Reserve, we had taken off on foot. Jazz chose the location after a consult with Alice; the rainforest was getting uncommonly pleasant weather this week. We had all recently hunted, so we didn't consider local game when selecting our destination.

We hiked through an isolated section of the park. Emmett hauled two large kayaks—one on each shoulder—that we had attached to the top of the Jeep. Jasper was ahead of me, a banjo strapped to his back. I knew for a fact that he carried a fiddle in his backpack.

We looked a bit ridiculous, but it was all in keeping for my laid-back Texan and Appalachian brothers.

"I know the setting is all wrong," I chatted, "but I can't help but imagine that we are a band of bootleggers hiking out to our unlicensed distillery in the woods."

"Dude, it's called a still," Emmett corrected.

"City boy," Jasper thought.

"I haven't lived in a city for a very long time," I grumbled.

"Maybe so, but you're no backwoods dweller either," Jazz replied.

"Yeah, the setting is wrong. The trees are wrong. That and the fact that we are running at inhuman speeds and I'm carrying two ginormous kayaks on my shoulders. Nice try, though, Edward."

"Well, I may be reaching..."

"Human or vampire, I can't imagine anybody ever mistaking Edward for a rum runner," Jasper commented.

"I guess he drives like a Duke cousin, but that's about the only comparison we could make." Emmett started to sing the theme song to the Dukes of Hazard. "Just a good ol' boy..."

"Love that show," Jasper said under his breath and humming along.

I sneered. "I was brought up better. I ought to be teasing you two ill-bred commoners."

"Peasants," Emmett mocked me in an exaggerated French accent, so that it sounded like pez-ahntz.

"You mean us brush-hoppers?" Jasper asked. "We'll show you, blueblood, that country boys know how to have a good time."

And the "good ol' boys" lived up to their reputation during that pleasant evening, but our good time was short-lived. Up until the awful phone call that ended it, we talked and teased and competed—almost like human brothers. I could nearly believe that was what we were, and it was even better than pretending to eat a family meal (or spaghetti breakfast, as it were) in my fairytale cottage with Bella and Nessie.

Jasper and I shared a kayak, while Emmett and our gear rode in the other. We had paddled out to a rock cropping in the ocean that made up one of the Broken Group Islands and set up camp in an undesignated area. It was more courteous to break the law this way—no camper wanted to share their island with three vampires.

When we settled, Jazz held up the violin in one hand and banjo in the other, asking me to choose. He and Emmett had specially bought the instruments that morning for our trip. Knowing that Jasper played the banjo quite well, I took the violin, confident that I could make it sound as country as if I had been born and raised in the American South.

He chose a medley of songs to pick out on the banjo—starting with John Denver's "Thank God I'm a Country Boy." Emmett and I joined in on the chorus, and I played the fiddle like a natural, singing about a simple, funny life on a farm. Emmett was especially keen with his "yee-haws," "woo-hoos," and "yes sirs!"

We sang and laughed and acted spectacularly foolish well into the night.

"So," Emmett started during a moment of calm. "I want to know what's going on with Bella. You show her who's boss yesterday?"

I snorted. "I don't know. It's not what you think, Em."

"Oh?"

"It's private, all right?"

"That's not fair. You know all there is to know about the rest of us."

"Really, Emmett, I don't want to know, but it can't be helped. You practically shove it in my face, the way you and Rose want us all to hear you. It's depraved."

He and Rosalie practiced a mild sort of exhibitionism. Romping in public places at public hours. Not that they ever got caught, but the potential for exposure comprised the appeal. (Hm... not unlike Bella's beach trip, I supposed.) Carlisle and Esme would blow their stacks if they knew...but so far, their exploits remained closet.

"Hey, don't knock it till you try it."

"That's exactly what I told him," Jasper interjected. "He's an arrogant SOB, isn't he? Especially when it comes to anything carnal."

" 'Carnal?' Like erotic? So, then it was sexual...?" Emmett asked, bemused. "I thought you...punished...her... Oh! It is sexual! Edward, you blessed bastard!" He punched my arm.

"Wouldn't you know it," Jasper said with mock defeat. "Of the four Cullen men, Edward's the winner."

"That makes you the winner and a loser!" Emmett crowed, delighted with his new information.

"I'm not willing to discuss this," I insisted. "Bella would detest it—"

"Come on! We're brothers! We share this stuff. You know the girls do. Right, Edward?"

"Well—"

"It is only fair," Jasper reasoned.

Emmett thumbed in Jasper's direction. "Yeah, you know that Alice gets this queen to dress up for the action."

"Get out, Emmett, I don't wear dresses to bed," he retorted. "But even if Alice wanted me to dress like a ballerina I would. Thank heavens she prefers masculine characters and costumes."

"Yeah, right," Em argued. "She told Rosalie that her favorite was Robin Hood. Alice said your butt looked really cute in the tights."

"And Rosalie told you!" Jasper was only slightly offended; he was mostly flattered to hear the compliment.

"Well, yeah, she told me. But I'm wondering... Maid Marion give good headway?"

"Emmett!" I said with disgust.

Jasper wasn't scandalized in the least, although he wouldn't talk about his lady in such a vulgar manner. In fact, he looked quite cavalier. "Marion can do all manner of things when Robin peels off his tights," he revealed.

Before I could rearrange my features, the others noticed my face contorted prudishly. Jasper detected several emotions, including sadness and longing together with my usual distaste.

"Oh, Edward," he said with sincere sympathy. From his reaction, it was obvious that I was indeed missing out on a sensational experience.

Apparently it showed on my face, too, because Emmett knew exactly what was wrong.

He looked at me, astonished. "Bella's never smoked your—"

"No!" I roared. The surrounding frogs abruptly cut off their singing.

"Not even before the wedding?" Emmett asked. He was dumbstruck. I glared back at him.

"Did you," Jasper started, "for Bella—you know—visit 'the land of broken dreams?' "

I swallowed, mortified by the turn in conversation. "Yes."

"All right. Well, you need to talk to her about it. See if she wants to reciprocate."

"I don't think she wants to," I said weakly.

"Don't worry about it, man. You stand over her with your whip, grab her by the hair, and you make her take it," Emmett suggested—he was being sincerely helpful, too—or so he thought. Like he would ever be so bold with Rosalie...

"I am still a gentleman," I tried to assert. It came out sounding more like I was trying to convince myself.

Through my dismay, Jasper sent me a shot of hope. "Perhaps you don't want to be that much of a caveman, but fellatio may very well become part of your play with Bella. You will want to work up to some things, and although this is a pretty basic accomplishment, it's new for you two, so it will fit nicely with your acquired lifestyle."

My brothers shared their ideas and testimonials, and I ended up with a lot to look forward to. I was grateful that they didn't try to tease—not even Emmett—although I would have bet my life on it. They surprised and delighted me. The situation didn't sound normal to them, but they responded with compassion and understanding.

It actually felt good to unload.

And then the call came in the early morning hours.

Emmett was boasting about winning the last waterfall-jumping competition, but Jasper was only half-listening to him. His focus was on my phone conversation...but more so my feelings.

"Edward." Carlisle all at once sounded tired, cross, exasperated, and confused.

I unconsciously submitted to my reflex reaction: rapidly replaying recent days and weeks, critiquing my behavior of late and asking myself, "What did I do?"

I had kicked Carlisle's bumper two weeks ago when I was angry at Rosalie, but she felt sorry about it and helped me straighten it out. Did she tell on me? No, that wasn't it. Even if she did, I doubted Carlisle would bother calling to yell at me about that. I came to this conclusion within the space of three seconds.

"What is it?" I asked hesitantly.

It was Bella. She had gotten herself involved in some mischief. My breathing grew heavy as Carlisle tried to explain the misbehavior, but I could hardly concentrate. The noise of the ocean waves sounded louder in my ears.

"Do you want to handle this when you return from your trip?" he was asking me. "I thought you dealt with her yesterday, Edward."

"Well, I tried, but then it turned into...the other thing..."

"I see. Perhaps I should take over for now—"

"Just wait a second, Carlisle! Don't—" I struggled for words. "Don't do that. I just—I don't understand," I mourned.

"It's normal, Edward. We've all had our quirks when we were new," he consoled.

Jasper felt my anger flare. "It's not a quirk, Carlisle," I objected. "It's an obscene fascination. She did it on purpose. She wants you to punish her. She likes it."

"I think I can teach her not to like it," he vowed.

"No!" I shouted. Then Jasper understood that my anger was directed at Carlisle.

"Edward, wait," he said, firmly calling my attention away from my father on the phone. "Did you tell Bella what I told you to tell her?"

Emmett was all ears then.

I shook my head. "I didn't get to, no."

"Give me the phone," he demanded.

I listened, shocked into utter stillness, as Jasper explained to Carlisle that he would need to wait until I was home to punish Bella... Because before he did, he was going to punish me.

I stared at the blue-black, starlit sky, not breathing, while Jazz finished making the deal.

"Damn," Emmett breathed, feeling distressed for me. "Edward?" he asked. He called my name four more times before I could finally meet his eyes. I couldn't speak because I didn't have any air left.

"Edward. What did Bella do?"

I took a deep breath.

Author's note: Ladies and gentlemen, please keep your seats. We will return to our romantic, masochistic couple's erotic experimentation after a short interruption. Thank you for your patience and understanding.