A/N HollettLA is like Chuck Norris. She deserves her own anecdotal t-shirt line. I'm on twitter if you want to talk fic or similar avenues of debauchery with me: landdownunda
OffPiste
- 36 -
"How's my girl and my mogul?" Edward said as he walked through the door. He came straight over to me on the couch and clasped his hands to my belly. His hands and my belly were magnetized. I loved it.
Edward had decided that my belly looked like a mogul – a mound of snow that's been pushed up from skiers making short turns down a steep trail. He still referred to the babies inside as Salomon and Dynastar, mostly because it got his mother and sister really worked up. They had made their opinions pretty clear on him naming the first junior Cullens after brands. They didn't know about our secret Post-it stash.
"Girl and mogul are both good. Girl is feeling a bit…needy, though."
"Seriously, baby? Mogul makes you insatiable," he snickered.
"Don't laugh at me! I'm so huge, but I'm so horny. I can barely even reach down there anymore. You gotta help me out, spunky. Please," I whined.
"Beautiful, you know you don't have to ask me twice. You don't even need to ask once. Just give me that fucking eye and I'm at your service…" He stopped talking and started kissing.
"Help me up to the bed, baby," I whispered. We were fairly fucking limited in our locations these days.
He undressed himself and me as he sauntered and I waddled to our room. My belly was way too fucking big, so the most comfortable way for me to get off was with him taking me from behind. I wasn't complaining. Any sex was good sex in my fucking book.
The next day I was in the kitchen, waddling around as I tried to reach the bench to make meatballs and Bolognese sauce to fill the freezer pre-baby mania taking over the household. Esme was coming to help out and make her famous chicken curry. Renee and Phil were in town, picking up the bassinetes she'd ordered. They were the last things we needed for the nursery.
As I divided the meatballs into storage containers, my mobile rang, the caller ID telling me it was Michael, Edward's head coach. He called occasionally, but usually it was to get a hold of Edward. This was a bit out of the blue.
"Bella speaking," I answered.
"Bella, hon, it's Michael."
The tenor of his voice instantly filled me with dread.
I knew I didn't want to hear what he had to say. He wouldn't call with good news. Edward would. Why wasn't Edward calling me? I couldn't do this, not now. Not with these babies ready to meet their parents. Not ever. My belly became extra heavy, weighing me down.
"Don't panic, but there's been an accident."
I sank immediately down onto the kitchen floor.
-x-x-x-