A/N: Hello, my gorgeous people.
Let's get to it.
(Also... Denise. You know I love you, right?)
"We're being rude."
Edward grunted and leaned in for another kiss. She tasted like mint toothpaste. And he loved the breathy way she giggled when he ran the pads of his fingertips along the skin of her belly. He had the whole world in his arms. There was nothing outside this room that could possibly hold any interest.
Bella sighed, her breath warm on him, and looped her arms around his neck. She leaned in, her head on his shoulder. "It's been a whole day."
"Not even twenty-four hours yet." He tried not to shiver as she drew her hands up and down his spine.
She lifted her head and curled her fingers around his chin. She pressed her thumb there below his lip, her smile soft. "We had breakfast and lunch to ourselves. Dinner is the least we can give your parents. They've been good to us." Her smile faltered. "And you have to go to work tomorrow."
"I'm not going to work."
"You are," she said, eyes narrowed. "It's just another day. No one is going to be attacked by deranged closet cases. No one is going to be hauled off to jail." Again, her expression softened and she touched her fingers to his cheek. "No new soulmate revelations. Just you and me, and whatever normal is going to look like for us." She grimaced. "Not that I want to make a habit of hiding in your parents' house."
"Hey, me either." He took her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing her knuckles. Pulling her to him, he kissed her hard and hungry. His fingers tickled along her sides making her wiggle and laugh breathlessly into his mouth. He groaned and sighed. "We can't stay here?"
"No."
He pouted.
She cupped his cheek, her tone so tender, his heart ached and soared all at once. "You big baby."
He stuck his tongue out at her.
"Wow." Her eyebrows arched, but her eyes were still soft. "I'm supposed to be the immature one in this relationship, Edward." She took his hand, pulling him toward the door.
He grinned wide, full of teeth. He did feel young again when he looked at her, realizing he could have this one, beautiful thing. The giddy rush at the thought made him feel like a teenager with his whole life stretched out in front of him, full of possibility. He let his hand drift down and pinched her ass. She squeaked and he chuckled. "You know what I have to say about maturity?"
She quirked an eyebrow.
Lips turning up at one corner of his mouth, he disentangled himself from her arms. Then, he poked her. "Tag. You're it."
"What? Hey!" He heard Bella laugh as he darted down the hall. She was quick on the uptake. A glance over his shoulder told him she was right on his heels. He got to the stairs and pounded down them full tilt.
His head turned back slightly, he didn't see what he ran into. His body hit solid mass. He heard a yelp and the crash of bodies hitting the floor. He sucked in a breath as pain attacked him as he was caught in a tangle of limbs.
And then a sound that made his heart leap to his throat and his stomach churn in dread. A baby's high pitched cry.
"Henry." A woman's hoarse voice, spiked with panic, shoved the pieces into place with a sickening click.
While she hadn't stopped Emmett from coming over with the baby, Rosalie had never joined them if Edward was going to be there. Apparently, she'd chosen today to give him a chance and look at what happened. He'd run headlong into her while she held his nephew. Whether she'd fallen with the baby still in her arms or she'd dropped him were equally horrifying scenarios. Edward scrambled onto his belly, crying out with a start when a hard boot came down on his hand as Rosalie pushed off the ground to get to her son.
"I'm here. Mommy's here," Rosalie said, her voice shaking as she gathered her son close to her chest. Her hand flitted over her son's tiny body, pressing and checking. "What hurts, baby?"
"Is he—" Edward moved to go over to them, trying to see what he could do, but Rosalie shoved him back hard.
"You get away from us," she hissed with a sneer. "Haven't you done enough?"
Bella dropped down by his side, an arm around his shoulder. "He didn't do it on purpose. It was an accident."
"Oh, shut up." Rosalie sat back, crossing her legs and adjusting the sobbing baby in her arms. She fixed her glare on Edward, blue eyes glinting with fury. "I'm so sick of everyone making excuses for you. I'm so sick of you hurting my family."
"What's going on? What happened?" The scene got more chaotic as Emmett appeared.
"An accident," Bella said for him. "We didn't mean—"
"He never means it. Never means to hurt anyone." Rosalie rocked back and forth, still checking her son over, trying to soothe him, and hissing her words at Edward. "Not your fault the press has been harassing your parents. Apparently, you didn't mean to ignore them through all this until you needed them, as usual. Didn't mean to be such a troublemaker. Didn't mean to keep your parents so busy trying to keep your stupid ass out of juvie they forgot they had another teenage boy who maybe could've benefited from a little attention."
"Babe," Emmett protested though not with much force.
But Rosalie was on a roll. "You didn't mean to get drunk like a petulant, idiot jock and force your brother to leave us at home alone when we were both weak." Her voice broke. Her lips crumpled, and she looked back down at her son, rocking harder as the baby continued to wail. "He was so weak. I can't… He can't be hurt like this."
Emmett sat down beside her, putting an arm around her shoulders and drawing her close to him. "He's okay, babe. You're both okay."
A touch at his shoulder drew Edward's attention. He turned his head to find Bella's face near his, her eyes soft. "Come on," she said, giving his arm a gentle tug.
He stood, took a step, paused and almost turned back, but Bella tightened her grip. "Come on," she said again.
Frustrated and guilty, Edward fell into step beside her, out of Rosalie's sight. Bella let her hand drop down, her fingertips skimming along his arm. She twined their fingers together.
Edward gasped and yanked his hand out of her grip. "Fuck," he said through clenched teeth. He looked and blinked. "Fuck," he said again.
"Oh, Edward." Bella stepped close to him, her hand hovering near but not daring to touch his.
They were standing on one side of the kitchen. On the other side, a door opened. Carlisle and Esme came in from the garage. Carlisle cocked his head, setting down the bag he'd brought in. "Uh oh. Unhappy baby."
It took Esme and her razor sharp mother's intuition all of three seconds to focus her attention on him. "Something's wrong," she said.
Edward had tucked his hand behind his back. The pain, however, now that he wasn't distracted by guilt and fear for his nephew, had washed over him with the strength of a rushing river. He knew he had to be palel with it, and struggled not to pinch his eyes. "The baby fell," he said, trying to divert attention to his nephew.
"He's fine." Bella tried to pry his arm from behind his back but he held fast. "It was scary, but he's okay. You're not. You're hurt."
That did it. Edward sighed in frustration as his parents came to cluck over him.
"Oh, my..." Esme put a hand to her mouth. "You poor baby."
"It's your wrist. It's broken," Carlisle said.
"Yeah, I can see that." His hand, rather than being centered on his wrist, looked as though it had been moved half an inch to the right.
"Oh, sweetheart." Esme ran a hand through his hair.
Edward pulled away, struggling to keep the scowl off his face. "I'm fine. You should go check on the baby." The pain made him speak through gritted teeth.
"Henry is fine," Bella said. "He's not even crying anymore."
"You're hurt." Esme tried again to pet him and sighed when he pulled away again. "Let us take care of you."
A scoff drew their attention. Sure enough, Rosalie and Emmett had reappeared, the former looking pissed as hell. "Of course. He almost kills your grandchild running down the stairs like a maniac, and it's still all about him."
"You broke his hand, Rosalie," Bella said, eyes narrowed at the other woman.
Rosalie's eyes widened, darting to his hand as her lips formed a perfect o. "I… That was an accident. I never would have—"ֵ
"You never meant to hurt anyone?" Bella challenged, her tone dripping sarcasm. "I guess that excuse only works for you, but you can't give your husband's brother, your son's uncle, the benefit of the doubt." She shook her head and didn't wait for an answer. Instead, she put a hand to the small of Edward's back. "Come on. We need to get you to the ER. Where are the keys to the car?"
Biting the inside of his lip hard, Edward shook his head. Rather than answer Bella, he turned back to his family. "I'm sorry," he said, because it was all he had. To Rosalie he said simply. "The baby's okay?"
It was Emmett who answered. "He's a tough little guy."
Edward nodded. "That's good," he said, and then he followed Bella out of the room.
~0~
Bella was there to hold his hand.
Such a small thing. It wasn't that he needed support. He was a fully functional, adult man who was used to taking care of himself. He wasn't scared of doctors or in unbearable pain. He didn't need an advocate; he could stand up for himself and ask all the right questions. Still, the fact she was there every minute, save for the time he was in with the x-ray, quieted some of the aggravation he felt just under his skin.
It had been hours, but here they finally were, him with a brand new, blue cast encasing his wrist and her with a hand in his free one. She let out a long sigh and a chuckle as the doctor left, telling them to wait for the nurse and papers about the care and feeding of his fractured appendage.
"What is it?" he asked, studying her.
"It's past midnight." She shook her head. "It's been six days that we've spent at least a little time in a hospital or a jail."
"Well, I guess the world was right about us. Just a couple of bad eggs." He smiled but then frowned, frustrated all over again as he thought and rethought about today.
"You know," Bella began slowly, "When I was pregnant I read a lot of blogs. One thing I saw so many times was that shit happens." Her nose crinkled. "It scared the hell out of me, but it was also kind of a relief. To know that all parents accidentally hurt their kids. Bump their head against a wall. Fall asleep when they're rocking them at night and the kid just rolls right off their laps. What was it one of them said? Are you really a parent if your baby hasn't fallen off the bed." She brushed his hair back. "It's scary, but you're human. That's all. Not a bad egg. Just a plain old human. You and me? We're both allowed to make mistakes. It doesn't mean they're right about us. Not Rosalie. Not my father. Not the damn press. None of them."
He raised her hand, still twined with his good one, and kissed her knuckles. "I've never been able to blame someone for being angry. I fumbled their baby." He ducked his head. "Rosalie wasn't wrong. All those things she said? I didn't even think about the fact the press must be up my parents' asses even if the house is protected."
"I didn't think about it either." She shook her head. "You were taking care of me. I needed the downtime, and we were coming downstairs to reconnect, to tune in to other people." She squeezed his fingers. "You're doing your best."
"It's not—"
"It's enough." She fixed him with a stern glare. "Don't go down this road. Don't start with your BS that you're not good enough because you are, for me."
The tiniest smile tugged at his lips and he looked into her fierce eyes. "No, I actually think I did good when it comes to you. I think you're the only thing in my life I've ever done completely right. Well..." He winced. "Except for that bit at the beginning. My first foray into baby dropping." He rolled his eyes.
"But you didn't drop me. You caught me. So your record still stands."
He slung an arm around her and kissed her crown. "I'm glad I didn't drop you on your head."
"Hah. My dad would have blamed you for my wicked ways. Knocking a few screws loose and all that."
"Well, I am evil incarnate. I know."
Some minutes later they were finally wandering down the relatively quiet hospital hallways. Edward had his left hand up, poking at the cast with a frown.
"Don't worry." Bella brushed up against him with a gentle bump. "I'll draw on it for you later."
He reached out to take her hand. "I was actually wondering how hard it would be to ride."
"Hmm." She quirked her lips as though in thought. "The hairpin turns up the mountain may be tricky. A ride along the coast though." She shrugged.
Visions of wind and waves played in his head. A day at the beach. He could picture all of it. The ride with her arms wound around his waist and her hair flowing in the salty air. Tumbling with her into the water. How good and pinchable her ass would look in a bikini. Even better: boy shorts and a bikini top. That look did things to him, and on her….
"We'll do it," he promised.
They'd reached the entrance and walked out into the cool evening air. With Bella holding his hand and the visions of a lifetime of good moments in his head, he had almost recaptured his good mood from earlier. Before. When the whole atmosphere around them was warm and filled with a giddy light.
But yet again, like running headlong into a blond-haired brick wall, his happiness was short-lived. They weren't even halfway to the parking garage before Edward heard his name. He turned without thinking and was met by the blinding light of a flash.
"So, your wave of violence continues, huh?" the paparazzo zinged his question at Bella. "Did poor Edward come out in support of LGBT rights? Working on adding another assault charge to your record?"
"Are you kidding?" Fury rushed through Edward, burning all the good things he felt, razing it all to the ground. He took a menacing step toward the man. "Who the hell do you think you are?"
"Ooh." The man stepped backward, away from Edward, but snapped another picture. "Maybe you got that injury punching someone else. You're her actual soulmate, right? Cut from the same cloth. Same brand of bigoted asshole, are you?"
Edward took another step toward the paparazzo but Bella yanked him back. Hard. "No comment," she said to the man, who snapped another picture.
Bella kept her hand tight in Edward's, hauling him forward so fast he almost tripped over his feet. His alpha instinct warred with his logic. He knew, he damn well knew, there was nothing he could do. There was nothing he should do. Anything he would say or do to this asshole would only make things worse for Bella, and there was every possibility she'd be facing a judge and jury who might be swayed by the complete bullshit story the press pieced together.
He knew, but it was hard, so hard, not to punch the asshole into next week. The man couldn't write his story or print his pictures if he was unconscious, right?
Somehow, they made it to the car. Bella opened the door for him and all but pushed him inside. He fumed, the instinct to protect his mate only adding to the awful impotence. He circled his useless hand beneath the cast. He could have driven. If not for his hand, if not for the drugs in his system, he could have at least spared Bella those few extra seconds she had to listen to the asshole's vile words. There was nothing he could do but be there for her no matter what happened with Demetri; he should have been able to at least drive her away from this place.
"I'm sorry," he said, voice raw. They were finally out on the street, leaving the paparazzo in the dust.
Bella rolled her shoulders and shook her head, as though she could free herself of the man's filth so easily. "For what? You didn't do anything."
"That's the point."
She laughed without humor. "You like to talk about you not being a good partner because you've lived the life you've lived. This is my life, Edward. This is what I bring to the table. My father is a politician. You've been listening to me vent about the press at those events even when they weren't out for my blood. My dad might be the goddamn president; you think you're not going to have to deal with annoying paparazzi?" She laughed again, this one a little more lively. "Hell, that was half my problem when I was younger. I didn't take any shit from these assholes and nothing happened to them. It gave them more ammunition, more to write, more content to make up to make me look worse to the public. And they'll do it to you if you give them the chance." She reached over and squeezed his arm above the cast. "That's the problematic nature of soulmates, right? You don't get to pick the crazy we come is who we are. Manipulative fathers. Grumpy sister-in-laws. The free press and more than our fair share of bad luck. This is us. Are you sure this is what you want?"
He huffed and let a few beats of silence pass between them while he waged several fruitless arguments in his head. "I really can't punch any of them?" he checked, tongue-in-cheek.
"I'd advise against it."
Another beat. "Damn." Another beat. "Nope. Still worth it."
They were going to get their happily ever after, he decided. And all the naysayers, all the paparazzi, the press, and his damn sister-in-law, could go to hell if they didn't like it.
A/N: Oh, Rose.
Hey. At least this time she didn't tell Edward Bella was dead, thus setting off a potential suicide via Volturi.
Anyway!
For anyone who hasn't heard, I have a new original fiction out. It's called Never Enough by Kristina M. Sanchez. If you think our boy Edward can't catch a break, you have to meet Valentin. Trying to do the right thing and it always bites him in the ass. He's back home after his latest failure, sharing a house with his dramatic mother, his wicked stepfather, and Mina—an orphan his parents took in when he was already grown. Drama. Romance. A little slice of taboo.
Come join me. Never Enough by Kristina M. Sanchez, available in print and ebook.