Peter had dropped Rocky off at a border's ranch in northern California and was now reaching the end of the three hour drive to the little town that his girl grew up in. For the last half hour, she had been all but bouncing in her seat, gushing over this, that and the other; her voice getting more and more animated with every mile put under the tires. For the rock in his gut over this, he couldn't stop the grin that came to his lips as she talked about her dad. It had been a long time since he actually met a girl's daddy that he didn't know growing up, and NEVER after they actually had sex...

And they had a VERY active sex life.

Normally, there was no 'daddy meeting' with the girls he rolled in the hay with, they were one night, or possibly over the weekend, but not anywhere close to take home and meet the folks kind of girls.

Matter of fact, there was probably a pretty long list of daddies ready to shoot him on sight.

Grunting a little and shaking his head to rid himself of the thought, Peter returned his attention to his girl when she squealed to put a stuck pig to shame, turning in her seat when they passed the 'Welcome to Forks' sign. Following the turn by turn directions, he soon pulled up in front of a two story, yellow house with a wrap around porch and, you guessed it, a cop car in the driveway.

Leaning over him, Isabella laid on the horn a few times before throwing her door open, not closing the door behind her, before running around the truck. Peter blinked a few times at the action before looking out his window and saw her leap into the arms of an older gentleman with salt and pepper hair, her cry of "Daddy" echoing off the porch and back to him.

Getting out of his truck as well, Peter held back as his girl and her daddy got reacquainted. When she turned bright eyes on him and waved him over, he pushed off the front of his truck and walked across the yard, bending his elbow when his girl wrapped her arms around it.

"Dad, this is Peter Whitlock. Peter, this is my dad, Charlie Swan."

Looking her daddy in the eye, Peter held out a hand, "Pleasure to meet ya, Chief Swan."

Gripping the boy's hand and giving it a shake, Charlie tightened his grip as much as he could and cocked a brow, "You ever so much as raised your voice to a girl, Boy?"

"No, Sir. My mama have my hide 'fore I could blink iffen I ever did."

Charlie looked at the guy he had only ever heard very good things about another moment before he smirked a bit, "Keep in mind, I have a gun, I know how to use it, and I am the chief of police. If I say I didn't shoot you, no one will ask me again. You get what I'm saying, Boy?"

Peter nodded at him, "yes, Sir."

"Good. Call me Charlie." Then he turned away from the kids and back to the house, "Get your bags and come on in, the game is getting ready to start and pizza should be here soon."

As they were following the order, Isabella giggled a little, looking at Peter over the truck bed as she grabbed her backpack and Peter got the duffles, she smiled at him, "I think that went well."

Peter snorted as he pulled her backpack off her shoulder and put it over his, once again bending his elbow when she took his arm, "yeah, he didn't g'on and shoot me. I consider that a win."

"He told you to call him Charlie. There are kids I grew up with that aren't even allowed to call him that. I think he really wants to like you."

Smiling down at her, he cocked a brow as he handed her through the door, "Oh yeah? What makes you so sure?"

Isabella smirked, "He didn't come outside with his gun on his hip and you got in the front door. If he wasn't willing to at least try, he would have just gone ahead and shot you."

Peter gave her a flat look as he closed the door behind him and set their bags down, "very comfortin', Little Darlin'."

She just giggled as she grabbed his wrist and pulled him the rest of the way into the house.

*X*

"Go baby, go, go, go, GO... FUCK!"

Charlie dropped back into his chair as Peter leapt from his, double fist pumping with a "YES!" as his Cowboys tackled the fuck out of the Seahawk's wide receiver and recovered the fumble. He might be trying to win over his girl's daddy, but where he was from, football was a religion and the Cowboys were their gods.

Sitting back down next to his girl and setting a hand on her thigh, Peter reached for his beer. After taking a drink, he turned to Charlie, "I got fifty bucks that say my boys kick the shit out of yours."

After swallowing his own mouthful of beer, he pointed the bottleneck at him, "You're on, Son. My team hasn't ever let me down."

Peter smirked, "neither has mine."

He tried not to be too smug as he took his girl's daddy's money later that night. It was kinda iffy there around the middle of the fourth quarter, but, as always, his boys came through and won by 9.

Isabella just shook her head a little, a smile on her face as she watched them interact. She had been a little worried at first over this visit, but she knew that if anything would bring them together, beside the fact they both wanted to to kill the same person, it would be football.

"Well, as sweet as the male bondin' is, I'm tired. Ya'll have a good night, now."

As Isabella was turning to head upstairs to her room, her dad snorted, "Ya'll? What the hell is that shit, Bells?"

Glancing over her shoulder with a grin, "Blame ya new Pal, Daddy. I promise ya be sayin' it too by the time we leave."

Charlie shook his head a little, "fucking southerners."

Without missing a beat, Peter retorted, "fuckin' Yankees."

Charlie looked at him with a cocked brow but said nothing as he hugged his daughter, wishing her a good night and sweet dreams.

*X*

The next morning Peter woke up to the most mouth watering scent there was. Taking a deep breath, he hummed in his throat, Is that bacon? Stretching out his back, popping his spine back into alignment, he reached down and adjusted his extremely painful junk and sighed before rolling out of his girl's bed and grabbing his jeans off the floor. He knew this was his fault. His girl wasn't nearly as vocal about not doing anything in her dad's house, those protests were all him, but he was definitely regretting the choice right about now. He knew one thing for fucking sure, if she was still up for it that night, there would be NO denying it.

After a quick stop at the bathroom, he followed his nose and the smell of pig to the kitchen where his girl and her daddy were bullshitting about nothing as she bustled around the room. After a 'mornin'' to Charlie, he kissed his girl before he was pointed to the table where there was enough food to feed a small army.

"Help yourself, Peter. I got some guys coming over this morning to help me with thinning out the tree line. If you want to eat, you better do it before they get here."

Isabella snorted at the stove, turning around and twirling the spatula in her hand in a circle with a chuckle. "Daddy, I have seen breakfast time in the Whitlock house. Peter here is not above stabbing hands with forks."

Peter took a drink of his juice to wash down the bacon and looked over at his girl, "ya make it sound like I do that shit all the time. It was once, it was Emmett, and he went after the bacon on MY plate. Ya damn skippy I stabbed that fucker's hand. Ya don't mess with a man's bacon, Little Darlin'. That'll land ya knee deep in shit faster than ya can blink on the Whitlock ranch."

Isabella cocked a brow as she jetted out a hip, "it was three times, it was Emmett, Jasper, and Rocky's vet and you drew blood."

He was completely unrepentant about it too. "Previous statement stands, Sugar Britches. You don't fuck with a man's bacon and e'spect to keep all ya fingers. They knew better." To prove his point, he shoved another piece of bacon in his mouth and winked at his now laughing lady.

Charlie watched the banter going on between his daughter and her new boyfriend, a small smile on his face hidden by the newspaper in his hands. He couldn't remember a single time he saw her while she was with that thing she calls an ex that she looked that happy; not even before all that bullshit happened. She also never talked about him but hasn't shut up about Peter since he got up this morning. He had to admit, he was curious about the man and she had no problems telling him anything he wanted to know. When she told him that he was a professional rider, with multiple national championship titles in different events under his belt, he would be a liar if he said he didn't make a few phone calls while she was in the shower and have him looked up.

He would also be a liar if he said he wasn't impressed.

He knew he hadn't misunderstood what she said. He knew she said he had them, but he didn't think that she meant the he was the CURRENT national champion in those events, just that he had had them at one point, but no. He was the current 'gold buckle' holder in the the tie-down wrestle, barrel race and the steer wrestle. He had the silver one in the saddle bronc and bareback bronc and the bronze one in the bull ride. He held a title in every event there is and the guy he got the information from was jealous and fuck that 'Witty' was staying in his house.

He wondered if she knew he was the current title holder in anything but the one she actually said he had at the moment. After making a mental note to ask him if she knew just how big of a name he had, Charlie set the paper down and leaned back in his seat, "So, what do you kids have planned for today?"

Isabella was pulling a pan of biscuits out of the oven when she answered, "nothing until tonight. I want to take Peter to Port Angeles tonight to go to that club I went to for my 21st." Setting the hot pan on the stove top, she turned and leaned against it, "I figured we would just laze around the house for the day so I can see Jake when he and the guys get here."

Charlie nodded at that. "I know he can't wait to see you, Bells. The damn kid started calling the house everyday for the last three to find out exactly when you were going to get here."

Isabella snorted a little before rolling her eyes and turning to take the biscuits out of the pan and moved them to the basket on the counter.

Peter looked at her with a cocked brow as he leaned back in his seat, "that the boyfriend you been talkin' 'bout, Little Darlin'?"

With a bark of laughter, she looked over her shoulder and winked at him, "we were married when we were kids. Poor bastard didn't take the divorce well."

"I was 6."

Isabella whirled around with a squeal, dropping the biscuit in her hand and darting across the room before leaping into Jake's arms, laughing as he spun her around. Once she was on her feet again, she beamed up at him, "holy fuck, what the hell have you been eatin'? You weren't this tall two months ago."

Jake smiled at her and ruffled her hair a bit, "you didn't sound like a hick then either, Bells."

With a swat to the chest and a huffed 'asshole', she turned to Peter who was looking at her with a smile, "Jake, This is..."

He cut her off and held out a hand to Peter, "Oh, I know who this is. Jacob Black, Mr. Whitlock. It's an honor to meet you."

Peter smirked at him as he took and shook Jake's hand, "Mr. Whitlock my Daddy. Call me Peter."

There was a definite swoon in Jake's eyes as he nodded making Isabella cock a brow a little. "Looks like someone got a little crush on ya, Petey."

Peter snorted as Jake looked at her like she was making fun of Jesus in bible country, "I do not. But, come on, Bells, it's not everyday you meet a fucking legend."

Peter grunted a little and shook his head a bit, "I ain't no legend, kid. I just ride."

The spark of swoon was back as Jake shook his in disbelief. "You're a national champion, three years in a row in more than one event. You are the highest rated rider in the circuit. You have won more events in the last year alone than most riders do in their whole career. They say that if you keep going like you are, you could even beat Frost."

Peter sighed and looked at the ceiling, "Well, I don't know who they are," looking back at Jake, "But ain't no fella gonna ever beat him. Frost a legend, I just ride."

Seeing the annoyance creeping into Peter's eyes, Charlie intervened on his behalf, "Jake, shut up and leave the man alone. He isn't here for you, now sit down, shut up and eat."

Jake looked like he was about to protest, so Isabella smacked him on the back of the head and pointed to the table, "sit."

Shoulders slumping a bit, Jake did as he was told and took a seat and getting a plate of food. Once a few minutes passed, he looked across from him at Peter and swallowed him mouthful, "so, where's Rocky?"

Peter looked up at him, "border in California got 'im for the week we gonna be here. Why?"

Jake shrugged a little, "no reason. I just know that you don't go anywhere without him."

Peter cocked a brow at him, "you a stalker?"

Charlie choked on his coffee at the same time Isabella spit hers out so she didn't while Jake turned beet red at the question and Peter sat there waiting for an answer.

Isabella wiped her chin off with the back of her hand, blinking a few times before slowly turning to look at Peter, "feel free to use the fork."

*X*

Around noon, Isabella was in the kitchen with a couple of the girls from the rez making a mountain of sandwiches and pitchers of sweet tea and lemonade and putting bags of chips into bowls. Once that was done, the girls took lunch outside to the picnic table because there was no way, in any life, that she was going to allow 8 men that spent the day out in the woods cutting back trees and branches in the house without turning the hose on them first.

Once everything was outside, Isabella blew a high pitched whistle then cupped her hands around her mouth, "All hogs to the troff! Ya'll boys come on and eat now." As she turned back to go grab the paper plates, there was a pained yell from the woods causing her to turn back to see what was going on.

It didn't take long.

Out of the woods came Jake, Paul hot on his heel, before Paul speared tackled in him the back, taking him to the ground face first. The girls crossed their arms, head cocked to the side as they tried to figure out what the hell Jake did to piss him off this time when Peter walked calmly out of woods, his own arms crossed.

Peter smirked as he saw Paul take the stalker to the ground. When he was close enough, Peter pointed to his girl, making her start a bit, "ya best apologize to the Lady, Kid."

Jake fought against the hold Paul had on him as he turned to look at Peter, "she didn't hear me." then he cried out a little when Paul twisted his arm a bit.

Peter cocked a brow at him, "don't matter. Paul 'bout to rip ya arm off. I reckon I'd apologize iffen I was you, Kid."

Jake cried out again as Paul pushed up on his arm again, yelling, "Sorry, Bells."

Isabella looked at the sight, then at the other girls, who shook their heads, before looking back again, "for what?"

Paul answered that, "he was picking on your accent again."

Isabella groaned a bit and huffed, "dick." Shaking her head, "just eat, ya bastards." After she came out with the plates, she took a seat next to Peter, who put his arm over her shoulders, and jumped into the conversation like she was there the whole time.