I love y'all, for real.

SM owns. DH and I own Liam and Pandora's Purple Passion Package. You know you want one.

I'll admit that I wore a little plaid skirt in honor of Liam.

Edward's eyes narrowed as he leaned in the bathroom doorway, watching me primp for dinner.

"What, no knee high socks with those little buckle shoes?" He rubbed his chin. "I mean… if you're going for the naughty schoolgirl look, you gotta go all the way."

"Oh, I go all the way alright," I smirked.

He came up behind me, pressing his front into my back, sliding his hands around my waist. Geez, how the boy could be hard again was beyond me. "Mmhmm… yes you do." He swept the hair away from my neck and kissed down my shoulder. "And multiple times all in one trip," he said. When he heard me sigh he locked eyes with me in the mirror and wiggled his eyebrows. "Ye must've had a fookin' brilliant tour guide," he whispered in my ear, his put-on Scottish accent curling through me and making my heart pound.

I spun around in his arms, my eyes wide. "Oh my god. Why haven't you talked to me like that before? Do it again."

"I like your wee skirty," he breathed into my neck, pulling me tight against him. His hands clutched the bare backs of my thighs, sliding up, up. "It makes me want tae do verra dirrrty, dirrrty things tae your wee little arse."

I gasped, thinking that now we were really going to be late… and then he giggled into my shoulder.

"Ohh! You just ruined it," I said, giggling back. "You're such a nutcase."

"You know you love it," he said affectionately, smiling down at me.

Love.

And then suddenly I felt dead serious, all tingly and scared at the same time. "Yeah," I whispered. "I really do."

Edward's older half-brother was nothing like I expected. It was silly, but a tiny part of me was hoping to see a decked out Scotsman in full Highland regalia, wild William Wallace hair, fearsome scars from fighting battles and maybe some bagpipes slung over the back of his chair. Or at least Ewan McGregor. I totally would have settled for Ewan McGregor.

Liam seemed completely normal though. He was tall with a handsome grinning face, reddish hair and clear blue eyes.

And then he started to talk…

"Weel, there's the wee lad now!" he cackled all the way across the restaurant, feeling up the waitress standing at the corner of their table. He patted her on the bottom and gestured toward the bar. "Be a dote and fetch another pint, yeah? My beby brother's here."

The waitress didn't look at all perturbed that this strange man with the booming voice just had his hand on her ass. And we were at a fairly respectable establishment. She walked by us beaming like an idiot. I dragged my eyes away from Liam to scan the rest of the table. There was Rose, looking impeccable and as sour-pussed as ever. And…

"Oh my god, it's Emmett McCarty!" I whisper-shouted into Edward's shoulder. "Would it be too lame to get his autograph for my dad? I don't know, I don't know… I'll feel it out… if I get a weird vibe I'll totally back off. I don't want to be one of those peopl-"

"Bella, for fuck's sake," Edward laughed, prying my fingers from where I was squeezing his arm. "I've lost all feeling in this hand. Look, my fingers are blue. And I told you he'd be here, silly girl."

"I'll be cool."

"Right."

"Can I ask him to pat my butt like he does to all the guys on the team?"

"Yeah, you go for that," he said, moving his hand down, bending down to whisper in my ear. "As long as ye know who your bonnie little arse really belongs to."

"Oooh," I shivered, kissing his cheek. "This is going to be fun, I can tell." I just couldn't help feeling like I was at the circus, clapping my hands, oohing and ahhing at all the colorful, shiny attractions. Big, boisterous Scotsmen! Muscly NFL stars! The joy of pissing off Rose yet again! And in the center ring, the star of the show… Sexy boyfriend and his panty-incinerating ability to growl like Sean Connery!

Liam's eyes sparkled as we approached the table. He had a mega-watt grin as he unashamedly looked me up and down. "Fookin' hell Edward, ye dinnae tell me you were bringin' a gurl wid'ya! Aye, aboot time you were settlin' doon…"

Rose huffed; eying the silverware she'd placed neatly to each side of her plate, unrolled from her napkin. She gave the fork a tiny nudge to the right. "Liam, please. I told you he was bringing her so stop being absurd."

Edward and I sat down at the table. I smiled and nodded at Emmett McCarty, completely tongue tied, making Edward laugh. I was all talk and he knew it.

"Rosie m'dear, ye only have one time tae make a first impression," Liam said blandly before turning to Edward, giving an exaggerated wink. "An I have it on gud authority that breagha Bella here gets her panties all inna twist at a Scotsman speakin' s'proper anglish."

What!

I drew in a horrified breath. Holeee shite! He did not just say that! Oh yes, Edward was dying a slow and painful death when we got back to his place.

I resorted to babbling… "I- uh, I-"

"Great, Liam. Thanks." Edward interrupted me, glaring at his brother.

"Ooh, dinnae fash yourself, wee Edward." Liam laughed as I peeked at him through my fingers. "Isabella and I have things to discuss, we do. She happens tae write some of my favorite things tae read."

Embarrassment momentarily forgotten, I frowned across the table at him. "But I'm not a writer, not really. I haven't written anything that's been published. You must be thinking of someone else."

Edward shook his head. "You are a writer," he murmured, squeezing my hand.

It was true I wanted to write seriously one day, perhaps be published and see my name on the bookstore shelf. But even though I hadn't reached that particular goal yet, I was still proud of what I accomplished every month when I wrote for the catalog. Because my job was so much more than product descriptions… there were helpful articles, reader questions and answers and I always art-directed the merchandise photography myself. It wasn't easy to get the lighting just right on items like the Jumbo Licorice Whip-Combination G-Spot Vibrating Love Club with optional clitoral wiggler for an extra $9.99… but I did! (And seriously… why was the wiggler even optional? That shit should be standard.) I was good at my job even if it was a little unconventional; I'd had to use my creativity.

But surely that wasn't what Liam was talking about.

"Cool! What do you write?" Emmett McCarty asked politely.

Rose made an ugly sound and rolled her eyes. " Seriously? She writes product descriptions for a catalog. Hardly a-"

"Aye, a catalog," Liam said, talking over Rose, "but not just any catalog. She writes for the Depot, she does."

Emmett gasped, eyes wide; banging his hands on the table so loudly the pretty waitress almost dropped our drinks. "No fucking way—you're that Isabella Swan? I love the Orifice Depot catalog! I mean, I know it mostly sells handcuffs and dildos and shit but the articles are first rate. That one you had last month—"

"The History of Lesbian Hair?" I asked, grinning. "You liked that?"

"Are you kidding? It was awesome! Man, I laughed my ass off." Emmett's eyes were shining as he leaned forward. "Everything you write is hysterical. I made my roommate get his own subscription so he wouldn't take mine."

"Aww, that's so sweet," I cooed.

"Ugh! I can't believe this," Rose scowled at the entire table, saving the most horrible glare for me. Liam was oblivious, his full attention and roaming hands on our tittering waitress. Edward tensed though, getting defensive on my behalf. What a sweetheart. But this bitch was all mine. I quickly kissed him on the cheek to calm him down before I turned to face his sister.

This girl needed a sample box in the worst way.

"Now Rose, now stop pretending you're not excited about the Pandora's Purple Passion Package I'm sending you," I said, patting her hand. "I'm packing it myself and giving you all the best loot, I promise."

Emmett looked at Rose with renewed interest. "You're getting a P4? Fucking hell, those boxes are legendary. You can't buy them and the Depot hardly ever gives them away." He hesitated. "I'd… I'd really love it if I could… maybe come over and open it with you? I've always wondered what was in one of those things," he whispered, batting his lashes in a manly way. "It's such a mystery, you know?"

Rose's little fish mouth opened and closed quite unattractively before she finally got her head on straight and simpered, "Of course, Emmett. Anytime. We can have dinner at my place and… open the box. I guess I'll call you when…" She suddenly glanced at me, a pathetic, hopeful look on her face.

Yeah, that's what I thought. You're so gonna owe me.

"Oh, you'll have it tomorrow afternoon for sure," I said happily. "I'll even put a surprise or two in there for you, Emmett."

"Most excellent," Emmett breathed and reached across to hold Rose's hand. "Tomorrow…"

Rosalie squeaked.

As soon as I got in the car I punched Edward in the arm.

"Ow!" he yelled and started to laugh. "What was that for?"

"Where should I begin? How about your brother and that crazy fake Braveheart ooch, that's something weil hafta remmmady accent!" I couldn't help but laugh; the whole night had been so completely nonsensical.

"He's from SCOTLAND, you loon," he said, grabbing me hard around the waist, his fingers squeezing in a tickle torture I couldn't escape. "He does talk like that. And you should channel your violent tendencies in a much more productive manner… I might have a few ideas."

But he… but he," I gasped between tickles, "he started talking like a, like a—OH MY FUCK, STOP! Like a normal person! He sounded all American with just a tiny little lilt!"

Edward settled back in his seat, breathing hard. I really wanted to crawl over the console and into his lap. I'll show him violent tendencies. "Well, he's lived here for years," he said. "And he's a sports agent, remember? I'm sure he tones the accent down when he needs to."

I watched his hand on the gearshift as he drove; the way his fingers moved, the muscles in his forearm flexing… tensing, relaxing. Tense, relax, tense, relax. I rubbed my thighs together.

"You have ants in your pants or something? You need the bathroom?"

I unbuckled and leaned over to lick the edge of his ear.

"Edward, will you take me to your room and… play more video games?"

He laughed. "What?"

"And I want you to…" I whispered, "say Scottish words and stuff while you play. I like the way your fingers move."

He was silent as we coasted up to a red light. "Take off your panties," he said softly. "And then you can play with me in nothing but that wee plaid skirty."

"Ooh… erin go bragh," I giggled, scooting down in my seat to slide them off.

"Bella," he sighed, "that's Irish…"

"Pshh… semantics. Pull over. Did you bring your glasses?"

I apologize for the butchering of any Scottish words. I'll just assume you're too polite to say anything. ;)

OH, and The History of Lesbian Hair is a real book! I haven't read it but the cover looks awesome.

Thanks for being patient- seriously. While DH was waiting around for me to update this she went and wrote a million new stories. Go read them all- her new o/s owns me.