Greetings TTI readers! As promised, here is the first outtake. Some of you may have already read this one as it was originally written for the FGB auction but has never been posted. For context, TTI ends in February 2010. Edward & Bella get married the following January. This takes place in December 2011 and is EPOV. I'll meet you at the bottom with a little more info. Happy reading!


"It's currently a balmy forty-six degrees in the Twin Cities with temperatures topping out in the high forties today. Tomorrow continues this trend with sunny skies and a high of forty-nine," the local weather guy cheerfully reported on the flat screen, his perma-dent smile and overly gelled hair grating on my nerves with every word.

"Heading into the weekend we'll see lots of opportunity to head outdoors," he continued, flourishing his hands over a bleakly clear radar map. Not a single blip of blue in sight. Not even one cluster of flurries over the entire fucking state. You fail me, Minnesota.

"Temperatures stick in the mid to high forties, maybe even passing into the low fifties on Saturday. With no cold fronts on the ten-day forecast, Minnesotans may be looking at a green Christmas this year."

I hit the power button and tossed the remote to the far side of the couch with a groan of disgust.

"Damn you, Sundgaard," I muttered.

Slumping down in the cushions a little more as I stretched out my legs on the footrest in front of me, I cursed the Scandinavian Scrooge under my breath. Sven Sundgaard was the local meteorologist, one of the Twin Cities celebrities due to his looks and hometown charm. I'd actually met the guy a few times at various charity events and thought he was okay. Obviously I'd been mistaken. No halfway decent human being would bear such Grinchly tidings. Bah-humbug indeed.

"Dude, what the hell?" Emmett protested, stretching across his seat to grab for the discarded remote. "I've been waiting for the sportscast for twenty frickin' minutes." He snatched at the remote, missing by a good six inches. He tried again three times and missed every attempt since he refused to unass the plushy leather couch he was currently occupying.

It was Thursday night, ten days before Christmas and Emmett, Jasper and I were hanging out in the Wild team lounge prior to suiting up for the night's home game against the New York Islanders. We'd spent hours earlier that afternoon watching tape and going over strategy with Coach Clapp, working out our plan of attack. New York was a tough opponent and our record against them wasn't where any of us wanted it. I had high hopes that our more aggressive offensive plan and some fresh feet in our lineup would start to turn that around.

Jasper looked on in amusement, lazily folding his arms behind his head while Emmett continued his fruitless plight.

"Wasn't it Einstein who said the definition of an idiot is doing the same thing over and over again but expecting different results?" Jasper drawled.

"I think that was insanity, actually. But yeah, Einstein," I agreed, snickering when Emmett nearly toppled off the cushions.

"Would you two stop waxing philosophical and pass me the damn remote?"

"No way, dude," Jasper said with a lazy sigh. "You want it, you move your lazy ass off the couch and get it."

"I'm not lazy. I'm conserving my energy for the game," Emmett insisted, giving up the fight and grabbing a pillow, punching it a few times before folding his arms around it. His mouth formed a ridiculously pitiful pout.

What a ham bone.

Shaking my head, I leaned over and grabbed the remote, chucking it at Emmett's head. Unfortunately while my brother was lazy, he had good reflexes and managed to catch it easily, wickedly giggling as he flipped the power back on.

"They play tonight at the Xcel Energy Center against the New York Islanders. Back to you, Mike," the sportscaster concluded, wrapping his segment as the main anchor went on to talk about some fluff piece about holiday lights.

"Just great, we missed it. Thanks a lot, jackwagon," Emmett grumbled, hurling the remote back at me. I snatched it an instant before it beaned me in the forehead and started aimlessly flipping channels.

Nothing. Nothing. Trashy reality skanks in a cat fight. Nothing. Gold Rush Alaska... Meh, rerun. Nothing. Ooh, Man versus Food. Score.

"Cool your jets, Em," Jasper said. "Why don't we just flip over to ESPN?"

"Because those pansies wouldn't know good hockey if it cross checked them into the boards and knocked them on their ass," Emmett fumed.

He bolted up from his slothful sprawl, planting his feet on the floor as he perched on the edge of the couch, ticking off points on his fingers as he practically spat out his words. "We go on a nine game winning streak, hit the top of the division, stay there for two weeks and those dumbass commentators still say we have no shot at the cup. Are you fucking kidding me? I'm officially boycotting those tools."

Jasper looked over at me and rolled his eyes. I merely shrugged. I'd already been on the receiving end of two of my brother's anti-ESPN rants this week and quickly learned that it was best to just let the man run his course. Twenty bucks says he'd be back to DVR'ing SportsCenter and NHL Tonight in less than a month. The man did not do well with restraint.

After watching Adam Richman viciously defeat a tower of fifteen dozen oysters (that shit was awesome), I glanced back at the clock on the wall. Go time. I shut off the TV and took a moment to stretch out my back and scratch my belly before hoisting myself up.

"C'mon guys, we'd better go suit up or coach'll hunt us down."

Jasper hopped right up and went to grab a fresh Gatorade from the fridge while Emmett took his sweet time as always. He stretched himself out, his feet dangling well off the end of the couch as he cracked his back and gave an exaggerated yawn that sounded remarkably like a wookie. Of course his prolonged stretch left him wide open and vulnerable.

I nodded my head at Jasper, motioning for him to toss me a bottle. The second it was in my hands I wasted no time leaning over the couch and delivering a hard blow right to his bare stomach with the ice-cold plastic.

Bullseye.

He groaned and curled in on himself, clutching his gut. Ah, sweet victory. With his eyes closed, he never saw it coming. I'd learned early that was the only way to land a solid hit. As soon as Emmett suspected an attack, he was flexed and on guard, morphing into a solid wall of steel that even my most forceful of hits couldn't penetrate. As his teammate, I appreciated that fact. As his brother, I searched out every opportunity to take him down.

It was probably foolish to poke the sleeping bear but really, when had that ever stopped me? Besides, he was asking for it.

"Oh you're so dead," Emmett threatened. Already recovered, he quickly vaulted himself over the couch back. Without a moment's hesitation, I took off down the hall, Emmett's voice echoing behind me. "Yeah, you better run, pretty boy!"

Damn, the fucker was agile for his size. Luckily what I lacked in bulk, I made up in speed. It was necessary really or I never would have survived puberty with Emmett for an older brother.

Darting through the familiar labyrinth in the underground of the Xcel, I dodged random staff and security who never even batted an eyelash. They were well used to the team's pre-game antics.

Emmett was fast on my tail but I managed to gain some distance in a sprint down the long hallway. Two more turns and I'd be home free in the locker room.

Left. Right. Crap.

I stopped short, my sneakers squeaking on the concrete as I nearly slammed right into one of our equipment managers, lining up the team's sticks on the wall.

I didn't even have to hear Emmett's pounding feet behind me to know I was done for.

I managed a quick "Hey, Frank" to the man who'd sealed my doom before Emmett slammed me from behind, locking me instantly into a choke hold as he ground his knuckles into my skull.

"You never learn, do you?" he taunted as he pulled me around the chuckling manager and toward the locker room doors, never easing up on his grip. I struggled half-heartedly against him but really it was more for show than anything. I'd never break free until he let up. Until I got a whiff of his armpit. Then I started to struggle in earnest. Emmett laughed harder, squeezing my head before letting me loose.

"Geez, Em, ever heard of deodorant?" I complained, attempting to straighten my hair as we entered the locker room, Jasper strolling up behind us and tossing me my abandoned Gatorade bottle. "We haven't even hit the ice for warm ups and you're already rank."

"That is the scent of a man, Eddie boy," Emmett declared, flexing his biceps dramatically. "Maybe if you stopped stealing Bella's perfume you'd recognize it."

I started pulling my equipment from my locker and lined it up on the bench in front of me as Emmett and Jasper did the same. I grumbled, stripping out of my sweats and tossing them in a ball on the top shelf. "I don't steal her perfume."

Much. And it's not like I use it, I just keep it around for when she's not there and I miss her. Okay, I guess that's probably a little creepy. But it's not like I carried a lock of her hair in my pocket. Just her picture in my wallet. That's completely normal. And maybe there was another one hiding behind it, but really who could blame me? I mean if a guy's lucky enough to have a wife as hot as Bella and said hot wife happened to let the guy talk her into giving him a sexy little keepsake, why wouldn't the guy keep it on his person and within easy access at all possible times? I digress.

"Yeah. Sure," Emmett nodded sarcastically as he discarded his t-shirt and pulled on his Under Armor. "You smell that, Jazz? What is that? Eau de petunia?"

"Bella does not smell like a petunia," I said, stepping my foot up on the bench and stretching out my calves.

"Oh you're right; it's much more like strawberries and sunshine," he mocked in a high-pitched squeal, fluttering his hands.

"Keep your nose away from my wife," I laughed, shoving him in the side as I moved to warm up my quads.

We went about our normal pre-game routines, stretching out, taping ankles and strapping on padding as we chatted with fellow teammates doing the same. I kept a close eye out to see if anyone appeared to be dragging. It was gonna be a tough game and we couldn't afford any slack.

"Aw, yeah, turn that shit up," Tyler Crowley, the third line right wing, hooted. "It's my song!"

Newton, his fellow line-mate and all-around pathetic off-the-ice-wingman blasted the stereo, flooding the room with some electro pop junk that belonged in a nightclub where people practically humped each other and called it dancing. Of course it was Crowley's song.

"What is this crap?" I asked, tugging on my compression shorts. Jasper shrugged while Emmett bopped his head along to the beat.

Crowley pranced about in the middle of the room wearing nothing but his boxers and his thick thigh high hockey socks. Obnoxiously howling along to the lyrics, he broke out all the cliché dance moves on record. Seriously, the idiot was doing the running man.

"Party rock is in the house tonight! Everybody just have a good time," he belted out. Newton joined him on the next line, thrusting erratically.

Yup. Dumbass and Douchebag strike again.

I swear, sometimes the locker room was like being back in eighth grade gym class.

When he grabbed his jersey and started whipping it around his head, riding the pony around the room, I hit my limit. What was the point of being captain if you couldn't assert your authority every once in awhile?

When he passed by my bench, I snatched the jersey out of his hands and snapped it at his head.

"Hey, what's your deal, man?" he griped, rubbing at his head.

"Crowley, we're pro hockey players. You wanna audition for Chippendale's, head on over to Déjà Vu," I suggested, tossing his jersey back at him.

"Oh, c'mon, Cullen, lighten up. You're just jealous of my sweet moves," he said, wrapping the shirt around his neck and doing a little shimmy.

What a dumbass.

I didn't bother responding, turning my attention back to getting dressed.

"Could someone put something decent on?" Jasper called out. Thankfully the music quickly switched over to rock. Fast paced guitar and awesome percussion. That's more like it.

For the next twenty minutes, the team milled around the room in typical form. Spirits were high, a good sign. I checked my phone, texting back and forth with my dad for a few minutes as had been our habit since I played in high school. He may have never played or coached professionally, but he knew what he was talking about and most importantly, he knew me. I always took his tips to heart.

A few of the second stringers trickled in late, earning themselves a death glare. Every guy on my team showed up on time and ready to give a hundred percent, first string or no. Guess who's doing extra Killers next practice? They'd learn their lesson fast.

I made a circuit of the room, checking in with every guy on the team, reminding them of tips Coach gave them last practice, calming nerves, psyching them up. Clapp would be in soon for to usher us out for warm-ups and he relied on me and the alternate captains to get the team ready for action.

My duty done, I settled back in on the bench and grabbed my skates. Emmett sat beside me, tightening his laces and singing under his breath.

"And since we've no place to go, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow," he warbled in a low baritone.

It took me a minute for the lyrics to register but when they did, I groaned in disgust. Way to rub salt in the wound.

"Put a cork in it, Emmett."

"What's got your jock strap so tight?"

"Ah, don't mind him," Jasper said, knotting his laces. "He's just cranky and missing his woman."

"Don't worry, Romeo, Babybel'll be back tonight," Emmett said, waggling his eyebrows.

"Yeah, I know, it's just…" I trailed off, tugging the tongues of my skates with a little more force than necessary.

"Hey, we know, man. It's a brutal schedule this month," Jasper bumped my shoulder with a sympathetic smile.

"I'd hoped we'd at least get to spend a few days together when we got this home stint, but then she got the call to go to New York." I shrugged. "Just sucks, is all."

"What time's her flight come in?" Emmett asked, all signs of teasing gone from his voice. That was one nice thing about my brother. He knew when to cut the crap. Underneath all his pranks and foolishness, he really was a good listener, and my best friend. Added to that, he loved Bella almost as much as I did and knew how tough the season could get for us, especially when she had her own obligations.

"Late; around one unless her plane gets delayed. Then we head back out on the road tomorrow for another road trip."

Okay, even I could tell I was whining a bit, but come on. I mean we'd barely seen each other all month. I missed her. Her smile, her laugh, the way she'd sigh and snuggle herself closer to me in her sleep, the way her breath caught when I touched her in just the right spot. Sure we talked every day and Facetimed whenever we could but it wasn't the same. I missed being near her. On top of that, she was originally supposed to fly in this afternoon so she could make it to the game, but at the last minute she was asked to appear on a talk show segment to chat up the charity show she'd filmed yesterday and had to push her flight back.

I couldn't be too upset, I was so proud of her for all the work she'd been putting in, helping organize a silent auction on top of performing three numbers. I knew she wasn't so excited about her Olympic win shoving her even further into the spotlight, but she managed to turn it around and use her popularity to give back as much as she could. I understood why the Today show asked her to appear and represent the event. She was amazing, and while the hype had died down significantly since Vancouver, the public and the media still wanted her. I just wanted her too.

It always helped knowing she was in the stands watching. Not only because she was my biggest cheerleader, dethroning my mom for the title, but as motivation. Because what guy wants to get his ass handed to him while his woman is watching?

Oh well, I'd just have to get by knowing that in a few hours she'd be back in my arms and in our bed, even if only for a short time. I could work fast.

My phone beeped from my locker and I reached over to snag it, figuring we still had a few minutes before Coach arrived to wrangle us all out for warm ups.

When I saw her name on the screen, I couldn't even pretend to control my grin.

It's like the girl can read my mind.

"Aww, look, Jasper," Emmett cooed, sniffing dramatically. "Our little Eddie's still just as twitterpated as he was three years ago. I remember as if it were only yesterday. We were playing the Canucks, and young Edward here seemed distracted by a pair of big brown eyes, casting their spell on him from the 3rd row…"

I couldn't even find it in me to snark back at him, tuning him out instead as I brought up Bella's message.

Good luck tonight, babe! Sorry I won't make it. Kick ass and I'll have a victory kiss for you later...

Keeping an eye on the door for Coach, I tapped back a quick response, hoping to catch a moment with her, even if only by text. It was better than nothing.

Thanks, Beautiful. How're things going?

I bounced my knee, anxiously waiting for her response. When one came through only a few seconds later, I pounced on it. After almost a year of marriage she could still make me feel stupid and giddy. I didn't even care.

Good, just wrapping up. Matt Lauer wants to take me to dinner. ;)

Little minx thought she could rile me up, huh? Two can play at that game, Mrs. Cullen.

I don't care who takes you to dinner as long as I get to take you to bed.

I could just picture her face when she read it. Her cheeks would flush that pretty pink they always did, then she'd smile that little wicked smile of hers, the one that was full of promise and anticipation.

I think that can be arranged.

As much as I wanted continue our playful banter, I could hear Coach Clapp approaching the locker room. I quickly sent her one last note to wrap thing up; the rest would have to wait until later. When she was home.

Time to hit the ice. Safe flight. I love you.

Love you, too.

I stuffed my phone back in my locker, feeling lighter just for having heard from her. Coach came through the door, clapping his hands and calling for attention as everyone grabbed gloves and helmets to head out for warm-ups.

Jasper and Emmett bumped fists with me in our traditional ritual before sliding on their gloves and heading for the door.

Let's play hockey.


Nearly three hours and three grueling periods later I followed my men off the ice victoriously. It wasn't an easy win, but somehow we'd managed to come from behind and end up on top. The Islanders made us work for every point, shutting us down for the entire first period and only letting in one to tie it up in the second. Late in the third period I'd finally managed to search out an empty pocket in the goal and slap in the winning shot. I was still coming down off my adrenaline high when the buzzer blared through the arena, the thunderous cheers of the packed stands reaching a deafening volume.

I love my job.

Every win still gave me that same rush that I got in my first Mites victory when I was six, just like every loss drove me to do better the next time my blades hit the ice. I didn't care that hockey players were viewed as toothless morons who did nothing but punch each other's lights out, at least not too much. It never bothered me when I gave up weekends and vacations and time I could have spent with friends chasing girls and downing drinks for the sake of fitting in more practice time. It didn't matter that I came off the ice bruised and battered and sore more often than not. I'd given my blood, sweat and tears to this sport and it was all worth it. Hockey was the love of my life.

At least it was…until Bella.

I managed to spot the time off the FSN reporter's wristwatch when he interviewed me on my way to the locker room. Nine forty-five. If I was lucky, I might still be able to catch her before her plane boarded. I knew she probably wouldn't have had a chance to catch any of the game, but she was always the first person I wanted to talk to after stepping off the ice, win or lose.

When we lost, she always seemed to make it okay. She didn't brush off my disappointment, but she never let me wallow either, always encouraging me to get back out there and be better. And when we won? Winning was awesome enough on its own but the way she'd laugh and cheer me on with such genuine excitement in her voice made the victory that much sweeter. It was even better when she was there in person. Because she'd grin so huge that her eyes got all crinkly and throw her arms around my neck in a chokehold that made me feel like a conquering hero.

I couldn't wait to get to my phone and call her. All that stood in my way was a tool reporter asking me the stupidest fucking questions.

It was always the same thing: "How does it feel to win?" Uh, awesome. "How'd you manage to score that final goal?" I took the puck up the ice, made a shot and it went in. How difficult a concept was it to grasp? Why couldn't they ever send someone in who actually knew what they were talking about?

I sucked it up and gave the appropriate answers that wouldn't make my mom smack me over the head and question my upbringing when she saw the clip. When the camera was off I tried not to sprint down the hall.

The locker room was celebratory with my teammates congratulating each other and recapping the highlights of the game while getting cleaned up. I patted a few guys on the back for a job well done as I made my way across the room and earned a few in return. While I didn't particularly like every member of my team, we had a good camaraderie going on this season. Even Crowley and Newton didn't annoy me so much when they kept their mouths shut and got the job done.

Finally I made it to my locker and quickly dug for my phone, throwing my bulky gloves off in irritation as I tried to dial.

One ring. Two. Three rings. Voicemail. Damn it.

I didn't bother leaving her a message, figuring I'd get to talk to her soon enough when she got home. Feeling minorly deflated, I unhooked my chinstrap and pulled off my helmet, the cool air a welcome relief. I couldn't feel too bad. We'd played a great game, I had a goal to add to my record, and in approximately three hours Bella would be home. All in all, a good night.

I stripped down to my shorts, happy to be rid of the heavy, confining pads and sweaty uniform. I tossed my stuff in the large basket in the middle of the room, grateful as always that I didn't have to deal with cleaning it up. On my way to the showers, I ran into Emmett and Jasper, already fresh and clean.

"Hey, drinks at the Liffey?" Emmett asked, scrubbing a towel over his hair.

"You buying?"

"I bought last time," he protested, throwing the towel at my face. I chucked it right back at him.

"That's because you were the only one who drank more than one beer, moron."

"Oh for Chrissake," Jasper groaned, snatching the towel out of mid-air when Emmett went to throw it back at me. "I'll buy if it'll get you two to shut up."

"Sweet," Emmett and I said in unison, bumping our fists together while Jasper merely shook his head. You'd think he'd be used to our antics by now.

"The girls are out front. We'll meet you at our spot when you're done posing for the cameras," Emmett teased as they headed back to the lockers.

"Whatever, Em, you're just jealous they never want to talk to your ugly mug."

"I leave that Hollywood stuff to you, GQ, keep my head where it belongs: in the game."

I chuckled as I got to the showers, adjusting the knobs to the right temperature. While Emmett always gave me a hard time about interviews and photo shoots, he never meant anything by it; it was simply his job as my big brother to keep my feet on the ground. Sure there were some guys in the league who were only in it for the fame and notoriety, to get their fifteen minutes of fame, but that sure as hell wasn't me. I didn't mind the press stuff too much, it was part of the gig and I figured if they wanted to talk to me off the ice, I must be doing something good on the ice.

The showers were empty by the time I finished scrubbing, taking an extra minute to lather up with body wash and work out a few of the kinks under the hot spray. Yes, I use a loofa and am not ashamed to say it. Fluffy and sudsy is way better than a slippery brick that stings like a bitch when you drop it on your foot. And don't even get me started on the "don't drop the soap" comments in a locker room full of dudes.

As I wrapped a towel around my waist, I pondered if I should shave or not. Bella's skin was so sensitive and I was always leaving scruff marks on her neck...and her stomach...her thighs...and just about anywhere else I felt like kissing. And I fully planned on devouring her as soon as she was in my grasp.

I rubbed my knuckles over my jaw a few times. Yup, level three scruff.

Catching a glimpse of the time, I figured I'd have to forego the razor for now. There were probably still a few reporters lingering in the hall and I didn't want to keep the gang waiting all night. I'd go, grab a drink or two and still have time to head home, shave and pack for our road trip before Bella's flight landed. She told me she'd just catch a cab home since it'd be so late. Yeah, right. Like that was going to happen. I was meeting my girl at baggage claim and I wasn't going to let her out of my arms until I had to leave the next morning.

Quickly I threw on my suit and knotted the tie, cursing the NHL's post-game dress code. In ten minutes I'd be out at the bar and it'd be so much more comfortable to kick back and celebrate in jeans and a sweatshirt. Stuffing my wallet and cell into my pockets, I caught a quick glance at the mirror. Fucking crazy hair. I combed it down with my fingers. Once the cowlicks were marginally tamed, I called it good and stepped out to spend a few minutes with the press.

By the time I made it to the concourse, the halls were pretty well abandoned. Security was quick about clearing out the stands and sending fans on their way, most seeking out local bars to grab a few more drinks. Rounding the corner, I came upon our usual post-game meeting spot, only to find there was no one there. I glanced around, walking a few more feet to see if maybe they'd moved closer to the doors. Nope, nothing.

Rolling my eyes, I reached for my phone. Probably Emmett's idea to ditch me and get started. The screen on my phone was blank. Assholes hadn't even sent me a text. Nice.

You at the Liffey?

A few seconds later he replied.

Yup. Enjoy your night, Romeo.

What the…?

"Nice game, Captain."

I whirled around, my lips spreading into a ridiculous grin. Everything else faded away and all I saw was Bella, standing ten feet away wearing a deep blue coat that made her skin look positively lickable and holding two disposable coffee cups. For a moment all I could do was take in the sight of her, her hair curled softly around her face and a flirtatious smile curving her lips. Then she quirked her brow at me, as if asking what was taking me so long.

Shit, what am I doing just staring at her when I could be kissing her by now?

Two steps later I was right in front of her, reaching my arms around her with every intention of sweeping her right off her feet.

"Ah, ah, ah," she protested, backing up a step and holding the coffee cups up where I could see. "You're gonna make me spill cocoa all over the sexy suit."

Rolling my eyes, I swiped the cups from her hands, setting them down on the floor next to us, not even caring if they tipped over and spilled everywhere. Standing back up, I wasted no time plucking Bella right off her feet, her legs immediately wrapping around my waist while my hands gripped her hips.

"You should know better than to be holding anything when saying hello to me," I chastised her with a grin. "All I want you holding onto is me."

"You are quite the handful," she teased, snaking her hands around my back and squeezing the muscles there.

Then I realized something. She wasn't supposed to be here, not for another few hours. The little sneak!

"What happened to Matt Lauer?"

She grinned and leaned in to kiss my nose, her lips hovering just an inch from mine. "I told him I got a better offer."

"Fuck yeah, you did." My lips twisted into a smirk for just an instant before they crashed down on hers, finally, finally kissing her. From the way Bella tightened herself around me and the whimpering sound she made when I slid my tongue into her mouth, she missed this just as much as I did. Her fingers wrapped around the knot of my tie and tugged, and suddenly I wasn't hating the post-game dress code so much.

My hands were everywhere, stroking over her legs, molding her ass, diving into the silky mass of her hair, as if they couldn't decide where to focus their attention, reacquainting themselves with as much of her as possible.

She responded eagerly, her hand clinging to my shoulder while the other tightly grasped onto my hair, holding me to her as her lips pressed against mine. As if I was going anywhere anytime soon. Then her head turned slightly to the side, searching out a deeper angle, and I spotted the wall behind her.

Okay, maybe I am going somewhere. But I'm taking her with me.

Striding a few steps across the empty hallway, I hoisted her a little higher, adjusting myself slightly before firmly pinning her up against the wall. In perfect alignment, I pressed my hips forward, then again, thrusting against her, the friction making me so fucking hard and aching for more. Or less, as it were. A deep growl hummed through my ears that I was pretty sure came from me. I was too lost to her to be completely certain. I could feel her fingers digging into my back through my suit coat as she raised her hips, increasing the pressure between us.

God, that's good.

She tore her lips from mine as her head fell back, knocking none-too-gently against the wall. I might have been concerned, but the way her hips were moving against my dick had me a little distracted. I just hoped that moan was because I was making her feel good and not because she'd managed to give herself a concussion.

Her neck was wide open, just begging for my attention. My tongue traced along the line of her throat before I latched on to the spot where her pulse thrummed beneath the surface. She gasped and moved her head until her teeth grazed across my ear so I figured she had to be okay.

Good, because I had plans for her that didn't involve a trip to urgent care.

As my hands skimmed over her hips and up her sides to palm her breasts, I knew one thing; there was not nearly enough skin accessible.

Damn winter coat blocking my way. Unacceptable.

I only got one button undone before I came to my senses and realized it probably wasn't the best idea to take her up against the wall in the middle of the Xcel arena…even if the halls were practically empty. And even if she didn't seem to be putting up a protest. I wasn't a complete Neanderthal.

Still, I couldn't seem to make myself stop touching her. So I didn't. But I did attempt to stop mauling her, stilling my hips and slowing the pace of my lips as they moved across her neck, caressing her cheeks and cradling her head as they skimmed across her jaw line and back to softly press against the corner of her mouth.

I tried not to whine when I felt her legs loosen around me and drop back down to the ground, reminding myself that they'd find their way back there later. Then I leaned back and finally let myself get a good look at her.

Flushed cheeks, bright eyes, swollen lips. She was absolutely perfect.

I traced a knuckle over the soft curve of her cheek, smiling when she nuzzled into my touch.

"I missed you."

"I know. Me too." She laid her head on my chest and wrapped her arms around me, squeezing tightly as I kissed her head and squeezed back. "I'd hoped things would settle down when I retired from competition," she sighed. "I just can't seem to say no."

"I have a solution," I murmured against her hair.

"Oh yeah? What's that?" she asked, leaning back just enough so she could look up into my eyes.

"Quit everything, stay home, become my love slave and only say yes…to me," I said, punctuating my words with a soft kiss.

She giggled and snuggled back against my chest. "If only life were that simple. Of course you'd have to quit, too. No love slave is complete without her master."

"Master, huh? I like the sound of that," I smirked, turning my head to playfully growl and bite at her neck.

"Don't get used to it," she warned, squealing when I continued my nibbling. She squirmed and swatted at my chest until I finally relented. She loved it.

"Nice goal, by the way," she said, bumping her fist against my shoulder.

"You saw?"

"Yeah. I only managed to catch the last few minutes, but you were great. As always."

I reached my hand up and smoothed a strand of her hair between my fingers. Brushing it back over her shoulder, I noted the bright red patch marring her perfect skin. Scruff burn. Shit, I knew I should have shaved. I ran my fingers tenderly down her neck to her collarbone. "Thanks for coming back early."

"It was purely selfish."

It always puffed me up a bit when she said things like that, because I knew she meant it. She wanted me just as completely as I wanted her. I'd seen relationships where one person was more invested than the other; hell, I'd been part of them. But with Bella, I never felt out of balance. She was all in and so was I.

"You wanna go walk around the park for a little bit?"

What? No, I did not want to go for a walk. I wanted to go home. Where there was a bed and several other stable surfaces waiting for us. Away from people. Alone. Was she serious? She looked serious. And she was reaching for the coffee cups, pressing one into my hand. Yup. Definitely serious.

I was pretty sure I had the look of a wounded puppy on my face and the woman had the audacity to laugh.

"C'mon," she coaxed, holding her hand out for mine. "It's a nice night."

Of course it was. Not only is Mother Nature a tightwad with the snow, but apparently she's a vindictive cockblocker, too. If there was any justice in the world we'd be in the middle of a blizzard and Bella wouldn't want to go walk through the lights, she'd want to go snuggle in our nicely heated house where my chances of getting some were pretty much guaranteed. What were my chances of getting laid in an urban public park that was likely populated with post-game fans? Zip. Zero. Nil. Someone up there was really getting their jollies messing with my life.

"Edward?" Bella asked tentatively, curling her hand around my arm. "It's okay, we can just go home if you're tired."

Well now I felt like an asshole. She'd rearranged her plans and caught a flight back early to spend more time with me and all I could think of was getting her on her back. Or on her knees. Against a wall. Or… Suck it up and keep it in your pants, man.

"No, let's go," I said, gruffly clearing my throat and tucking her into my side.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. You're right; it's nice out." She smiled and snuck her arm around me as we turned toward the doors.

By the time we reached the park, the crowd had thinned out significantly. Despite the unseasonably warm temps, not many people tended to linger outside. The trees were lit with hundreds of strands of lights and I had to admit, it was a pretty spot. Peaceful in the midst of the city. We walked hand in hand, sipping our lukewarm cocoa while we caught each other up on our time apart.

As we walked by the Landmark Center, I saw that the skating rink was still up and running, though only a couple people occupied the ice.

Bella grinned and tugged on my elbow. "Care to take a spin around the pond?"

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, why not? It'll be fun."

"Did you stuff your skates in your pocket or something?" I asked, hooking my fingers in her coat pocket to peer inside.

"No, why?"

"You mean you're actually willing to put on rental skates?" I teased, poking her in the sides.

"Yes, Edward, I love you so much that I'm willing to risk a case of foot fungus just to skate with you," she droned sarcastically.

"You're such a romantic," I said, wrapping her up in my arms. "You'll catch me if I swoon, right?"

"Just go rent us some skates already, will ya?" She laughed, smacking me on the butt.

Despite the choppy surface and tinny holiday music blaring through the speakers, it was really nice. Bella and I didn't get out on the ice together nearly as often as I'd like. I'd practice at the X while she'd skate at the rink, choreographing for other skaters or working on her own routines. By the end of the day we were both usually ready to hang up our skates and settle in at home or spend time with family and friends. I forgot how much I enjoyed it, matching my steps to hers, gliding seamlessly together around the ice. It didn't get much better than that.

As we rounded the oval, Bella told me what songs she was thinking about for the upcoming Stars on Ice tour. She'd headlined the previous spring and while it was fun, it was time consuming. With the upswing in freelance choreography work she'd been getting, she'd decided to cut back and only perform at half the scheduled venues this time around.

All was good. I was feeling relaxed, enjoying some time with my wife, and then…

"I'm dreaming of a white Christmas, just like the ones I used to know…"

I was perfectly content until that blasted crooner burst my bubble.

"Yeah, keep on dreaming Bing," I muttered.

Bella stopped short, whipping around on her toe pick to face me. "Are you still pouting about the snow?" she asked incredulously.

"You mean the complete and utter lack of snow?" I corrected her.

"Yeah, that," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Of course not. I'm a man, Bella, we don't pout."

She raised her eyebrow skeptically. She really had that look down pat. I suppose she got a lot of practice.

I sighed and took her hands in mine, weaving our fingers together. "It just doesn't feel like Christmas."

"You know, most of my Christmases have been snow-less."

"Yeah, but that's in Phoenix or Florida. Here it's just…it's not natural!"

"Don't you think you're blowing this a little bit out of proportion?"

"No," I persisted, "We live in Minnesota, Bella, snow is our claim to fame. If it doesn't snow anymore, what do we have left? Just a bunch of people with funny accents and the movie Fargo. And Fargo's not even in Minnesota! It's in fucking North Dakota!"

"Honey, just because it hasn't snowed yet doesn't mean we're turning into a desert state," she said, smoothing the hair back from my brow. "There's still ten days left."

"And every forecast says there's no snow in sight." And yeah, maybe I pouted a little, but it was a manly pout.

"Those guys are wrong all the time!"

She was placating me, I knew it. The woman clearly had no concept of the deeper issue here. Hadn't she heard about global warming? First it's a brown Christmas, then palm trees start sprouting up along the Mississippi and the next thing we know Lake Minnetonka gets featured on MTV spring break as the new hot spot for drunk co-eds.

I shrugged and tried to turn her around to start skating again but she wasn't having any of it. I forgot sometimes how strong she was for such a tiny thing. I didn't bother trying to fight her, reluctantly letting her hold me in place.

"What?" I grumbled.

She ran her hands up my chest and curled her fingers into the ends of my hair, soothingly rubbing my neck until my shoulders relaxed.

"Even if it's not a white Christmas it can still be a good one," she reminded me gently.

"I know," I sighed, my irritation melting away in an instant. "I guess I just..."

"What?" she asked, her eyes searching mine for an answer I wasn't even sure I had.

"It's our first real Christmas together, as husband and wife," I murmured, watching my fingers as they twirled her hair to distract myself. "I wanted it to be...different." I trailed off feeling stupid and sentimental.

"What do you mean?"

"I wanted it to be special," I said with a shrug, forcing myself to meet her eyes. "Start some of our own traditions, be together. And now, I don't know, I mean we haven't even had time to go get a Christmas tree." I hadn't had time to get her a present yet either. Not that I was telling her that little tidbit, but it made me feel like crap all the same.

She smiled softly, understanding in her eyes. She rose up on her toes, rubbing her soft cheek against my scratchy one, soothing, comforting.

"You wanna know my favorite tradition?" she whispered against my skin.

"Hmm?"

"This," she said, leaning back and gesturing to where we stood. "Skating with you in the park, surrounded by lights, drinking cocoa, freezing my fingers off only to have you warm them back up again." I laughed, taking her gloveless fingers between mine and raising them to my lips, blowing on them softly and rubbing them between my hands.

"Traditions are great and I promise you that we'll have years of decorating trees and hanging stockings," she continued, squeezing my hands gently. "But all I want, all I need is you. You're what makes it special. So on Christmas morning, when I wake up next to you, it'll be the best Christmas I've ever had. Tree or no tree. Snow or no snow. Just as long as I have you."

What do you even say to that? There were no words I could ever find that would be enough to tell her how amazing she was, or how I felt about her or how she continued to knock me clean off my feet. Or how I was the luckiest idiot in the world because somehow she'd come into my life and fallen in love with me. I'd tried and failed many times. Instead I attempted to tell her through my touch, a tender caress on her sweet face, and the look in my eyes to communicate what was in my heart.

When her lips gently curved and she turned to press a soft kiss to my palm, I knew she understood. She rose up on her toes, rubbing her nose against mine before pecking my lips.

"Let's go home."


When we got back to the house, as much as I wanted to simply sweep Bella up into my arms and off to bed, I had to be responsible. Our plane was departing early the next morning for an eight day road trip and I still had to pack. It might have been worth it to just say 'screw it,' and wear the same clothes for a few days, or buy some new ones on the road. I was really tempted to do just that but Bella went straight for my closet, laying my duffel out on the bed and lining up socks and underwear next to it. I figured the quicker we got the necessary tasks out of the way, the more time we'd have to enjoy each I tried to be patient.

I neatly packed my bag, though it took every ounce of restraint I had to fold my shirts rather than just stuff them haphazardly into a pile to be sorted later. I calmly went downstairs to double check the locks and grab a glass of water for Bella, as was my nightly routine. I even sucked it up and brushed my teeth at the sink, staring straight at the corner while Bella rubbed her legs with scented lotion, her foot propped up on the counter next to me. She had no idea how hard it was, literally, for me to stand beside her rinsing my mouth while her hands caressed skin that mine desperately wanted to grasp.

Finally we crawled into bed, each slipping under the covers on our designated sides only to come together in the middle, her body fitting to mine in a way that felt exactly right.

She flicked off the lamp and rubbed the tip of her nose along my jaw. I smiled into the dark, letting my eyes close as she softly kissed my lips. They only touched mine for an instant, gone before I had a chance to draw her in and deepen it. My lips remained pursed, waiting for hers to return. Instead I felt her tuck her head into the crook of my neck, sliding her hand up to rest on my shoulder and sighing contently.

My eyes popped right back open. What was going on? Was something wrong? I mean, besides the fact that my mostly naked wife wasn't on top of me...that was definitely wrong.

I waited for a moment, my brow scrunched in a mixture of frustration and utter confusion.

Was she seriously going to sleep?

My hand caressed her hip, fingertips tracing the edge of her panties, yet she remained unmoving. Serene.

What the heck just happened? At the arena she was all over me. She'd been gone for days, I'd be gone for more and yet she seemed completely willing to just curl up and go to sleep. Was she joking?

"Edward?"

"Huh? What?" I'd been staring so intently at the ceiling that I hadn't even noticed her lift her head, propping herself up on my chest.

She furrowed her brow, glancing back toward her hip, where my hand was gripping her like a vise.

"Want to ease up a little? I'm gonna have a bruise the shape of your hand."

"Shit, sorry," I said, releasing her instantly. My hand only hesitated a moment before returning to repentantly stroke her tender skin.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, it's just...uh, I thought we'd..." I fumbled through my words, unused to finding myself in this situation. Typically it didn't take more than a simple kiss, a touch, even just a look. Bella and I were almost always on the same page when it came to our sex life. At the moment it didn't feel like we were even reading the same book. I mean, how could she not think we were going to have sex tonight?

"Babe, you just had a brutal three hour game with another one scheduled for tomorrow after a long flight," she murmured, her fingers aimlessly curling the smattering of hair on my chest.

"Don't you need to sleep?"

Part of me wanted to shake some sense into her. When had I ever been too tired for her? For us? Okay, maybe that one time this past summer when I had the flu, but I'd had a hundred-and-two-degree temperature, that was clearly an exception.

Another part wanted to laugh because she couldn't possibly be serious right now. But looking into her eyes, it was obvious she was. She wasn't playing hard to get or trying to tease. She was looking at me with such caring and compassion that I almost wanted to agree, let her tuck the covers around me and take care of me. But that sure as hell wasn't what I wanted, and I was pretty damn certain it wasn't what she really wanted either.

I wound my arms around her, holding her close to my chest as I swiftly reversed our positions. Tucked securely beneath me, I took a moment to soak in the sight of her. The shine of her hair against my pillow, the glimmer of her eyes that not even the darkness of night could dim. She was gorgeous, sexy, and she was completely mine. Just as I was hers.

I combed my fingers through her hair, softly caressing the smooth line of her neck with the faintest touch of my fingertips. While I still wanted her, was aching for the feel of her surrounding me, the urgency from hour, even minutes before, was gone. Instead I savored her, the warmth of her skin, the heaviness of her breath falling from soft, open lips. I traced along the ridge of her collarbone, then down to lay my palm over her heart, which was already starting to race.

Leaning in until my lips were only a breath away, I whispered only the truth.

"I need you more."

This time when my mouth met hers, she didn't retreat, instead her lips parted and she matched me with full force.

My hand stroked over her side as hers framed my face, tenderly rubbing my jaw. Her mouth was damn near intoxicating, almost enough to drive me to distraction and forget everything but the brush of her lips, the taste of her tongue...but not quite. There was so much else to pay attention to.

My fingers curled around her knee, hitching her leg up higher on my hip, spreading her beneath me. I was already hard and ready, even more so when I pressed my hips forward and felt her soft and warm against me. But I was more than willing to take my time. To savor. To cherish.

All thoughts of exhaustion and sore muscles, long flights and ruthless games evaporated until there was only us. Her and me and what we gave each other.

Her fingertips, cool and soft, traced over the ridges on my stomach, muscles that went weak beneath her touch. Her lips meandered a trail down my neck, teeth lightly scraping, tongue slowly sliding over my skin. Without an ounce of hesitation, she pushed and tugged my boxer briefs over my hips, her hand grasping me with certainty, confidence that she knew exactly how to touch me to take me to the brink. At moments like this it was difficult to imagine her as she once was, shy and timid in her passion, eager yet shaking hands and questioning eyes. Looking into her eyes now there was nothing but want. And love. Always love.

But then my hands tangled with hers in my urgency to rid her of her thin tank top and she blushed. Still Bella. My sweet, bashful temptress.

Then it was my turn to return the favor. With brushing touches and suckling lips, I journeyed down her body, kissing the soft, firm curves of her breasts, pausing to attend to their pink peaks with tongue and teeth. I brushed my nose along the shallow valley down the center of her stomach, evidence of the strength beneath the softness.

Drawing fabric slowly down her legs, I could see the way her breath caught and stuttered when my teeth scraped the bone of her bare hip. But that was nothing compared to her reaction when I settled between her legs and touched my tongue to her heated flesh. Long, languid strokes followed by quick, urgent flicks. First my mouth alone, then joined by fingers that knew just where and how to make her writhe. Her fingers frantically tugged my hair, clutched my shoulders, and her legs began to shake. Her voice, husky and sweet at the same time as she called my name, sending a ripple of fulfillment down my spine.

Until I craved more. As much as it was, I needed all of her.

I slid back up her torso, grasping her to me, encompassing her body just as fully as she encompassed my heart. Rubbing the tip of my nose against hers, I shifted my hips forward, over her, inside of her. It was too much and never enough all at once.

She made me warm all over, in a way that made me forget I'd ever been cold.

My arms curled beneath her, cradling her to me and hers did the same. Slow and snuggly and satisfying as her eyes and breath told me everything she needed, everything I was doing right. I leaned in, lightly nibbling on her ear, tugging the lobe between my teeth.

"Fuck, baby, I can't get enough of you," I rasped into her neck.

"Unh, Edward," she moaned. "I want- I need-"

But she didn't have to tell me. I already knew.

All too soon sighs and tender caresses gave way to urgent thrusts and reckless cries. Her teeth latched on to my shoulder as I felt her surrender, and I could do nothing but hold on tight as I fell right after, my frantic pulse finding sweet relief in her lazy embrace.

Minutes later with my wife contently curled into my side, I closed my eyes and kissed her head, whispering my good nights and I love yous that she echoed in a voice laden with sleep.

Suddenly it didn't matter that there was no tree in our living room or snow on the ground. I had all I wanted right there in my arms.


The next morning the team took off to the west coast, where at least the lack of wintery elements was expected. For the next eight days I tried not to get distracted or let myself dwell on how much I missed Bella. For the most part I succeeded. We continued our winning streak, only losing one of our games in a shootout. Felix, our goalie, really needed to up his game in that department. He was great between the pipes during regulation and OT but when it came down to one-on-one his game went to shit. I felt bad when opposing teams would call him a sieve, but I couldn't argue their point.

Everywhere I looked people were counting down the days until Christmas. Commercials, stores, people on the streets all spouting off their yuletide reminders. Only eight shopping days left! Seven. Six.

I had a countdown going too, except mine ended two days before everyone else's. The day I got to go home to my Bella. And this time it wouldn't just be for a few precious hours, but days.

And when we went back on the road at the turn of the year, she'd be coming with me. She hadn't been able to make a road trip all season but finally the timing came together and for ten days she'd be by my side and in the stands as we faced off against a multitude of Canadian teams. I didn't even care if the guys on the team gave me crap for not joining them out at the bars or in the lounge, playing poker and video games late into the night. I planned to spend an inordinate amount of time between the sheets with my incredibly sexy wife. Hotel sex for the win.

But first I was going to enjoy a few days at home, hanging out with my family and celebrating the season surrounded by the people I loved most.

Grabbing my pack from the overhead compartment, I patted the front pocket, double checking to make sure the precious cargo inside was safe and secure. I'd finally found time to get Bella's Christmas present and I couldn't wait to see the look on her face when she opened the box and saw the shimmering diamond and sapphire snowflake pendant. She'd probably chastise me for spending too much, but the moment I saw it, I thought of her. Our first kiss, our wedding, countless moments spent with her surrounded by ice and snow. So many people gripped and groaned about hating winter-the crappy roads, the cold, the short days, but it was definitely our season. I couldn't wait to see the charm against her creamy skin, particularly glittering in the dim light when she wore nothing else but my ring on her finger.

"You catching a ride with us?" Emmett asked as we de-boarded the plane.

That was the original plan, as it often was. Dad, or sometimes Mom, would swing by and pick us up from the airfield and deposit us one by one at our doorsteps. It felt a little bit like the team carpools from when Em and I were kids and playing Pee Wees, but it was tradition. During the twenty minutes or so that it took to drop us all off, we'd rehash the highlights of our games. Dad typically had a word or two of advice to toss into the mix as well. I loved those rides, sharing my success and my passion with my Dad was something that meant a lot to me. But it was already getting late, the sun well below the horizon, and I just wanted to get home and lock out the world as soon as humanly possible.

"Nah, I'm just gonna catch a cab."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I'll see you guys tomorrow." Christmas Eve was always our family celebration-attending mass before heading to Mom and Dad's for our traditional dinner, presents and Dad's annual recitation of "The Night Before Christmas." As much as I was looking forward to it, I was more looking forward to going home at the end of the night and enforcing a new Christmas tradition-making love all through the night. Okay, maybe it wasn't exactly new, but all the more reason for it to be dubbed a tradition.

The guys and I parted ways in the terminal. Emmett and Jasper took their time, knowing it would take a few minutes for Dad to show up. Meanwhile I couldn't get to the doors fast enough, hoisting my duffel over my shoulder and rushing through the long hallways, finally stepping outside and hailing the first cab I saw.

The entire drive home I felt ready to jump out of my skin. My knee bounced rapidly against the seat, unable to keep still, and I'm pretty sure the driver wanted to turn around and smack me. It wasn't my fault they never put enough leg room in those things.

I'd texted Bella when we landed to let her know we'd made it safely and that I'd see her soon. Part of me really hoped she met me at the door wearing something small and sexy. Fuck, who was I kidding, anything she wore would be sexy. And it really didn't matter anyway because it'd be on the floor in about two-point-five seconds. Maybe she'd be wearing my jersey...and only my jersey. The thought had me biting back a moan and fighting the urge to adjust myself. The cabbie already thought I was a prick, didn't need to add crazed pervert to the image.

Finally he made the turn down my familiar street. But what I saw was not the same as what I'd left behind, and it certainly wasn't what I'd expected.

Snow.

The entire yard surrounding my house was covered in white: the grass, the trees, even the rooftop. And not just a dusting either, but inches of fluffy white clouds.

"Hey, buddy, this is your stop, yeah?" The cab driver asked when I continued to sit there staring out the smudged window, mesmerized by the sight in front of me.

"Yeah, sorry," I mumbled, shaking the dazed look off my face and tossing a wad of cash at him. The second I stepped out onto the sidewalk and shut the door behind me, he was off.

The street was quiet, all the neighbors tucked into their houses for the night. Only Christmas lights kept it from being completely dark, and our house was covered in them. Strings of tiny, white icicle lights hung from the trim, twinkling in the bushes lining the porch. One more thing I'd been sure we'd have to do without this year since I hadn't had a chance to hang them earlier in the month.

And there through the front window, I could see a robust evergreen in our living room, fully decked out with lights and ornaments.

What was going on? There's no way I'd been so unobservant on the drive over that I just missed the fact that we'd had a snowstorm while I was gone. And when I'd talked to my mom on the phone this morning she'd said it was still green. Glancing to the left, then to the right, I noted an abrupt stop to the snow at the edge of our property line, the green and brown grass a stark contrast to the flawless white of our lawn.

A quiet clearing of the throat drew my attention back to the house. I hadn't noticed Bella sitting on the front steps right away, too distracted by the surprising sight surrounding me. She was huddled up underneath a plaid blanket, her knees curled to her chest, a knit cap pulled down over her ears and mittens as big as oven mitts covering her hands. And a smile on her face brighter than the hundreds of lights around her.

"Hey," she greeted me, shedding the blanket and leaving it in a heap on the top step.

I couldn't seem to move, not my feet or my mouth. It was like my brain had short circuited the moment I'd stepped out of the cab and nothing was processing.

When I remained still, Bella crossed over to me, her heavy boots tramping through the snow. She reached my side and raised up on her tiptoes to kiss me.

"Welcome home," she murmured.

"Wha-" I tried to ask, only to stop myself. I didn't even know what I was asking. All I knew is that I was completely flabbergasted.

"You were dreaming of a white Christmas, right?" she said, running her mittened hands up my chest to rest on my shoulders.

I was pretty sure I was still dreaming. My mind couldn't seem to catch up. My hands came to rest lightly on her hips, grasping the soft material of her shirt. She felt real, but I still wasn't entirely convinced.

"How?" A full word this time. I was making progress.

"I had some help from a few very resourceful elves," she said coyly. Well that was something. The thought of Bella up on a slippery ladder stringing lights was enough to make my heart stop. I was going to choose to believe someone else handled that particular task.

Glancing over her shoulder, I caught sight of a bulky piece of machinery sitting to the side of the garage. Squinting, I looked closer, sure my eyes were playing tricks on me.

"Is that a snow machine?"

"Shh," she scolded, framing my face with her wool covered hands and forcing my gaze back to her. "You're ruining the magic."

But it didn't ruin anything, not even a little bit. Because the real magic was in the fact that the woman in front of me had done it all. She gave me just what I'd been wishing for. A white Christmas.

"But, why?"

"Don't you know by now?" she asked, shaking her head, love shining in her eyes and the sweetest smile on her lips. "I'd do anything to see you happy."

"Bella," I breathed, cupping her soft cheeks between my hands. There was nothing I could say that would convey how moved I was by what she'd done, how completely blessed I was to have her, how I'd never have any clue what I'd ever done to deserve her. I could only be grateful.

"I love you," she murmured, brushing her nose against mine.

"I love you," I whispered back, touching my lips to hers, light and lingering. Then I kissed her temple, resting my cheek against the top of her head. "Thank you."

She squeezed me once, laying her cheek on my chest, and I was content to stand there in the snow she'd created, holding her close and rubbing her back.

I still couldn't quite believe it. Only days earlier I'd been lamenting the fact that I couldn't give her a special Christmas and here she'd managed a feat even Santa and his elves would have been proud of. And while I considered it a welcome responsibility to romance my woman and take her breath away, I considered myself pretty fucking lucky to have a wife who would turn the tables and sweep me clean off my feet. Really I was just lucky to have Bella.

"C'mon," she urged, patting my butt and drawing herself from my embrace, holding her hand out for mine. I snagged my bag from the ground and swung it over my shoulder, forgoing her hand to wind my arm around her shoulder, tucking her close to my side as we walked toward the house.

On the top step, she turned to face me, halting my steps as she braced her hands on my shoulders.

"What?" I asked. She merely lifted her eyebrow flirtatiously, her eyes flicking up toward the awning. My gaze followed hers and when I saw what she was gesturing to, I laughed. She'd really covered her bases. There hanging from the threshold was a tiny sprig of mistletoe. The little minx.

"Merry Christmas, Edward," she whispered, brushing her lips against mine, softly at first, then more firmly as she pressed herself against me, her tongue sliding out to tangle with mine.

I dropped my bag on the porch, deciding to come back and retrieve it later. Much later. I had much more precious cargo to carry. Snatching the mistletoe from the ceiling, I curled my arms around Bella and whisked her up off her feet.

"This is coming with us," I told her, my voice husky even to my own ears as I nudged open the front door.

She grabbed the mistletoe from my hand, tossing it over her shoulder and shoving the door closed behind us. "We don't need it."

She discarded her mittens then tangled her fingers into my hair, planting kisses along the edge of my jaw as I carried her through the house and up the stairs. As I laid her on the bed, she gazed up at me, the adoration in her eyes making my heart stutter. She brushed a tendril of hair off my brow and said, "All I want for Christmas is you."

I grinned as I leaned down to kiss her.

"I guess we both got our wish this year."


Aww! Hope you all enjoyed a little Christmas in July fluff!

Eternal thanks to all my readers for your continued love and support for this story, especially to my soulmate Ltlerthqak for always encouraging me to never give up, even when I went YEARS without writing a word.

Here's the lineup of what else is coming:

Prequel EPOV (written)
Chapter 1 EPOV (written)
Chapter 4 EPOV (written)
Chapter 5 EPOV (partially written)
Futuretake EPOV (planned but not yet started)

I don't have a schedule in mind for posting. I'm hoping the few I've already written will give me a little bit of a buffer to keep cranking on the writing. I'm not quite as disciplined as I once was! Feel free to keep shooting me ideas if you'd like. You never know what'll spark something!

See you next time!