Posted 2021-12-09; Beta'd by Eeyorefan12

With only three days to go until the wedding, Bella felt unexpectedly relaxed. Curled up beside Edward in his former bedroom, she was alternating between reading her book, watching the fog drift by the window, and studying her fiancé. There were a few wedding-related tasks to complete, but most of it was done. Her parents were due in Stockbridge tomorrow, and the wedding rehearsal was scheduled for the following day. Both she and Edward would be off work for most of next week.

And they were alone.

They were also surrounded by various boxes of Edward's belongings, through which her fiancé was currently digging, pulling the contents out, deciding which to keep and which to discard.

Not that there was any need to dispose of his possessions. They had plenty of room at their Boston house, but Edward had been insistent that most of his stuff was superfluous to need. Bella chalked this up to his military training. His spatial efficiency and lack of personal clutter was one of the many small Edward-related discoveries she'd made over their last month living together.

Setting her book down, Bella eyed the box beside her. He'd told her to look and see if there was anything she wanted to keep. Mindful that these particular boxes had come from his last move—when he'd left Tanya—Bella knew the gesture signaled significant trust.

Edward chuckled, putting a CD onto his very small pile of items to keep. Glancing over, Bella noted the title and the band. She smiled. It was The Broken Ponies—the same band they'd heard in Boston only weeks ago.

Reaching into the box beside her, Bella fished around amidst clothes and books, pulling out a soft purple drawstring bag. With Edward still intent on sorting, she let her fingers explore the bag's contents. Something sphere-like sat near the corner, as did something cylindrical, these items surrounded by several hard and nubbly shapes. Curious, she opened the bag, tipping it onto the bedspread.

"Huh," she said.

"That's where those went!" Edward reached over and scooped up the small red ball, chuckling. He threw it up in the air and caught it, repeating the gesture quickly. Though his rapid reflexes weren't surprising anymore, they were still impressive. Bella could easily imagine herself throwing the ball and never finding it again.

"So, you and Tanya whiled away the days playing jacks, hmm?" She gently nudged him with her elbow.

The smile remained, but he shook his head. "No. These drove her nuts." He picked up the rolled-up piece of rubber. "That's what this was for, to dampen the sound. Well, not totally for her, but more for when I was deployed. I always kept these with me. Keeping my hands busy kept me from thinking too much—especially the times I was stuck at a desk or I'd had to—"

He'd been rolling the ball between his thumb and forefinger, but he stopped abruptly, setting it back down on the bedspread. "Not a habit I want to pick up again. That can be tossed." He scooped up the game pieces, returning them to the bag before dropping it into the trash pile.

When Edward turned back to the CDs, Bella frowned, not certain why. She watched the morning fog through his bedroom window, enjoying the way it cloaked the distant conifers, making a pale backdrop to the yellowing maples.

Eyeing Edward's belongings again, she thought of the last time they'd been here and what she'd learned about the guilt he carried and was trying to shed. Was that what this was about? Trying to shed all of his past? She didn't want that.

It took only the lightest touch to gather his attention. "I can think of someone who might enjoy that in a few years." She looked at the bag, patting her midsection. "And having their father teach them how to play the game."

She watched him blink and swallow, suddenly still. It wasn't the first time she'd seen such a reaction to that word.

In one movement, he retrieved the bag from the pile and then leaned over to kiss her. Soon the kiss became a mutual embrace and the embrace a shuffling of things out of the way, making space. There was a soft thump as a box fell off the bed—

Both of them froze at the loud knock on the door.

"Edward? You in there?" Jasper sounded reluctant.

Edward swore under his breath and then whispered a "sorry" to Bella before helping her sit up.

She smoothed down her shirt and nodded to him as he rolled off the bed.

Opening the door only a crack, Edward kept his voice low. She could hear only snatches of conversation.

" . . . phone off."

"Sorry . . . Saudis . . . translate?"

She saw his shoulders rise and fall with a sigh before he turned back to frown apologetically at her.

Knowing he was needed elsewhere and likely for some time, she waved, mouthing, "It's okay."

His time away was surprisingly short. She'd finished looking through the box and was only two chapters further on when he returned.

Knowing that Edward shared information as freely with her as he could, Bella didn't ask if everything was okay. She was certain it wasn't, given the tense look on Edward's face. Asking for information he couldn't give or an empty reassurance wasn't going to help either of them.

He sat down in the void their activities had left, cupping her knee with his hand.

She rested her palm on top. "Need a bag of jacks?"

He laughed, scooting back to join her, resting against the headboard. "I'd like to say there won't be a lot of this, but—"

"There's probably going to be a lot of this? And you don't mean a bag of jacks?"

She expected more laughter, but instead she was met with stony features and a curt nod.

No, things weren't going well at work, and all she could do was offer moral support. It was a reality she should probably get used to. She squeezed Edward's hand. He'd sounded so guilty when he came back.

"I know what I signed up for, Edward. It's okay."

He gave a small sigh, nodding.

No, he didn't like it. Even so, Bella didn't like the guilt she'd heard in his voice when he'd returned. She'd known what their being together would mean. Unless . . . unless he was worried about something else?

She eyed the boxes and piles still on the bed with fresh eyes. "This . . . isn't about you trying to please or protect me from knowing about your past, is it? Or, is it?"

"It is." His voice was low and serious. "A man who loves a woman protects her from the shitty musical choices of his youth."

"Jerk." Her elbow was less playful this time—and also less on point. She missed as he angled himself out of range. Darn reflexes.

"This?" he asked, swinging himself up to hover over her, looking pointedly at her and then the bed. "This is about getting rid of stuff I don't want or need. My apology for ditching you for work? That was me apologizing for ditching you for work when we're about to get married. And this,"—he plucked her book from her hands and set it aside, then gently slid her down so that she was underneath him—"is about how much I love you. And what I want to do with you so much more than sorting through my old crap."

- 0 -

Emmett, Jasper, and Edward's father had already gone to bed, leaving Edward and Charlie alone at the kitchen table. The larger conversation had been congenial, as had been the one between the two of them, but Edward suspected Charlie Swan was treading these social waters very carefully. They'd only been alone for a few minutes, the sounds of increasingly distant footsteps and shuffling movements of other household occupants becoming fainter and fainter. Most people were already in bed. Soon, he and Charlie would be truly alone, or as alone as one could be in the Cullens' highly surveilled home. It wasn't that he didn't trust Bella's father or her mother and step-father. He simply wanted to make sure his trust wasn't misplaced.

Watching the man subtly scan the room and then him, Edward felt validated in turning on the cameras. Charlie Swan was no fool. If his future father-in-law put more than the obvious together, Edward needed to know.

Even so, he was pretty sure Charlie was also working up to something conversation-wise. While the man had done well pretending to sip his beer, the level had barely dropped in the last half hour.

Edward took a slightly deeper breath than normal.

Just keep calm, he told himself. His father had said as much to him several times in the last few days. The hypervigilance Edward had developed in Italy was largely undiminished, and knowing he'd be acquiring a cop for a father-in-law hadn't helped reduce it. Thinking about the last night-before-the-wedding he'd experienced wasn't helping either.

"Nervous about tomorrow?" Charlie asked.

Edward forced out a chuckle. "More than I expected to be."

Swishing around the liquid in his bottle, Charlie gave a thoughtful, "hmm."

There was a clunk from the fridge. The ice maker was acting up again. Edward frowned, wondering if his mother had been able to reach the repairman. She'd been so busy—

"I think most married men can relate to that feeling. I know I can relate to your circumstances, anyways." There was a rueful grin to go with Charlie's words.

Yes, Edward supposed, we have a few things in common, don't we? More than he was going to tell Charlie, that was for sure. He nodded, suppressing a grin as he thought of how Charlie and Reneé had met.

"I can see that the wedding means a lot to your parents."

Ever so briefly, Edward paused before lifting the beer to his mouth. He took a sip, nodding again, pretending that Charlie's words hadn't triggered his defenses.

He watched Charlie slowly turn his beer bottle with his fingers. "There're a lot of expectations you're facing."

"Oh?"

"You two are having a baby. Bella's young. Your parents seem very excited that they're going to be grandparents. And you strike me as a responsible man—one who steps up. It's just—it's a lot. All very quickly. I just wanted to make sure things hadn't, I don't know . . . gotten out of hand?"

Edward noted that Charlie arched his right eyebrow the exact same way that Bella did. He relaxed slightly, realizing what the man was getting at. Bella hadn't mentioned it but, apparently, his almost father-in-law had been a responsible man too.

"I'm in the same camp as my parents," he told Charlie. "I'm happy too. And no, I'd never ditch my responsibility to Bella or our child, even if she didn't want me around anymore." He swallowed, thinking of the time when he'd thought as much. "Ever. I want this." He met Charlie's gaze.

Charlie made a sound between a humph and a grunt. It wasn't begrudging, but there was something more in the man's features, and Edward's next realization was unsettling—and needed clarification.

"You . . . aren't worried that Bella doesn't want this, are you?"

Charlie snorted. "Well I sure as hell wouldn't be talking to you about it if I was thinking that, would I?"

No, he wouldn't. Edward could see that, and he was grateful for it. He allowed himself a small grin. "I'm not going anywhere. Except down that aisle tomorrow."

There was another, quieter grunt. "Well, I feel tradition bound to make the offer anyway, not that you're in need of it given what I've seen in your garage"—he fished out a set of car keys, plopping them on the table—"but if things are too much, and you feel like you need an out, feel free to go. She'll be taken care of, I won't ask any questions, and I won't let anyone pressure me into abusing my powers to find you. I'm pretty sure you've got the skills to disappear if you need to." There was no humor in his voice. The offer was serious.

Edward eyed the man. "Tradition bound, huh?"

"Tradition bound." Charlie took a slow pretend-sip of his beer, not swallowing and not breaking eye contact.

"Did you ever wish you'd taken someone up on that offer?"

Charlie's answer was immediate. "Never."

"Well," Edward said, lifting his beer in salute, "I look forward to joining the same club."

- 0 -

"Oh man, this place is amazing." Bella sighed, leaning back against Edward's chest. They were both still a bit out of breath.

"The place is amazing?" Edward made an effort to sound insulted.

She reached up and patted his cheek without looking at him. "Okay, you were—are amazing too. I'm still just a little stunned by the fact that you kept this spot a secret until now." She waved her hand around the room.

Edward followed its trajectory, trying to see things from her perspective. Despite extensive renovations, the 150-year-old stone farmhouse retained many of its original and now quaint features. He was less interested in the architectural charms before him, much more focused on what its privacy allowed them to enjoy, particularly with a naked woman in his arms.

There was a crackle from the fireplace.

"Feel free to go back outside and chop some more wood too." Under the sheets, Bella nudged his leg with her toes, chuckling.

"If I'd known what my splitting firewood in a plaid shirt would do for you, I'd have shown up at your place in Boston with both a lot earlier." He glanced pointedly at said shirt, resting where Bella had tossed it to the floor after eagerly assisting with its removal.

She laughed, letting him wrap her up in his arms and roll her onto her back. They kissed, and Edward luxuriated in the intimacy, assured that they were truly alone and unobserved. When his mother had renovated her parents' family home, she'd refused to have any electronic security features installed inside the house, arguing that their family had never needed them before, and that the home wouldn't need them now. Edward's father had deferred to her preferences. The Platt family homestead was hers to manage, after she'd been gracious enough to give over the outer reaches of the property for the Cullens' compound. Only Edward and his security team knew about its strategically-placed outdoor perimeter alarms. They were merely a precaution.

Feeling Bella sigh, Edward could see that she was getting tired. Though they'd had the day to relax since the wedding the evening before, and the second trimester was treating her far better than the first, he was overly sensitive to her need to sleep. Not that he hadn't been one of the things that was tiring her out. If only she wasn't so damned desirable. And willing.

She hummed contentedly, resting her head again on his chest, twirling her fingers over his chest hair and idly tracing his tattoo. He liked how it felt and was drowsing himself when she stopped moving.

"Hey, I just now realized why Emmett and Jasper disappeared early from the reception. They were the ones who had the place all lit up and the fire started before we got here last night, weren't they?"

"Inspired by my sister, no doubt."

He was pretty sure the box of diapers and the strategically-placed copy of What to Expect when You're Expecting hadn't been Alice's idea but he'd managed to scoop them up before Bella spotted them.

"It was nice of them. They've all been . . . really welcoming."

He chuckled. "All of them?"

"Yes, even your big sister," she said firmly. She tipped her head and peeked up at him. "She did loan me that necklace for my something borrowed."

Yes, that had been a gracious offer. Rosalie could still surprise him, pleasantly so. And, in her own way, she'd welcomed Bella to the fold. But his wife—for real this time—had been gracious as well in all of this.

"Thanks for putting up with everything, Bella. All of this sudden change, my family's expectations—saving my ass by marrying me twice."

She giggled before she stretched and yawned. "Hey, I just wanted to know what it felt like to walk down the aisle and not see any guns."

She was making light of it for his sake, he knew. It didn't make it easier to think about. If her father had any idea of how they'd gotten here . . .

"Hmm," she said.

"What?"

Bella cleared her throat. "I was just realizing that I've . . . never asked you how you—or your family, I guess—decided to, um . . . start a criminal organization."

Edward leaned back to study her face, hoping to look like he was teasing. "Kinda late to be asking, all things considered."

She laughed. "Why? Are you afraid this'll be a game changer for me?"

He said it lightly, but there was a tightening in his gut. "It'd be a bit embarrassing if it was."

She cupped his cheek. "You worry too much, Mr. Potato head. So spill the"—she snort-giggled—"nuggets about how you . . . got into the field."

Ah, they were playing with the metaphor tonight, were they? He let his muscles relax. "Yeah, I guess I haven't really told you any of that." It wasn't the happiest story. "Are you up for something sad?"

"I've got you. I'm good." She smiled, squeezing his hand.

Prior to her pregnancy, Edward wouldn't have described Bella as being overly emotional—responses to proposals issued under the threat of death aside—but that had altered. Now she actively avoided most television shows, the unpredictability she'd previously enjoyed more distressing than distracting.

"Unless it involves—?"

"No, it doesn't," he assured her. The one thing that distressed her more than all others was anything to do with children or babies being hurt—or worst of all,dying. He'd learned that the hard way when they'd watched Benjamin Button together.

He smoothed his hand over her hair, closing his eyes as she snuggled against him. "My dad was a family doctor for a long time in both Stockbridge and Boston."

"Mm-hmm." Bella returned to drawing lazy eights on his chest.

"Dad seemed pretty happy with his work, but in the last years of his practice, there were some big changes with pharmaceutical companies. Their financial strategies, God"—he ruffled his hair with his hand—"money began to talk a lot more than need. Anyway, because of that, my dad watched two of his patients die from entirely preventable diseases. One was a young mom who had Cystic Fibrosis. She'd done pretty well with conventional treatments until she had her first child, and then things went downhill. Dad managed to get her onto a new medication that had some promise and it worked—worked incredibly well for almost a year. And then the company that made it jacked up the price. It went from being around ten dollars a pill to eight-hundred overnight. Because it was proprietary, there was no option for a generic. Her insurance company wouldn't pay for it, and the manufacturer wouldn't make an exception or lower their prices. My dad watched her die, and there was nothing he could do."

"That's awful."

He nodded. "It was." Then he realized his chest was damp.

Oh, shit.

"I'm so sorry," he said, pulling her fully into his arms. "That was not the story to tell you."

"It's okay," she said, albeit a bit huskily. "I asked." She wiped her face with her hand. "Do I want to know about the second one?"

"Honestly? Probably not. The outcome was pretty much the same, and the reasons, too."

Bella sighed. "I can absolutely see your father's reasons, but I'm pretty sure a lot of people in the medical field feel the same. Your dad doesn't strike me as a naturally . . . criminally inclined sort of person. I mean, I can see his frustrations, but how the heck did he get from doctoring to mobbing?"

Edward chuckled. "Carlisle Cullen, mob boss. It is still so weird for me to think of him that way. Even though we've worked together for almost three years now, it's—yeah. He's my dad. He wants to help people, and he does." He rubbed his neck. "But his father, my grandpa, well. . . Dad always described him as 'morally agile'."

Under his arm, Bella snorted, shaking with laughter. "Morally agile. Your dad missed his calling as a lawyer."

"Funny you should say that. Grandpa wanted him to go into law or business, so that they could work together." Edward could say this without any bitterness, but he'd never heard his own father do so. "When my dad chose medical school instead, his father cut him off financially, and they were estranged for a long time."

"Really?"

"Yup. My dad paid his own way by working his butt off. What he didn't expect was that my grandfather was secretly proud of him and he referred a lot of his Boston business associates to his son's new practice. Dad figured it out, of course, but they were just patients, as far as he was concerned, and he got to know some of them pretty well. One in particular actually became a friend.

Bella squirmed, shifting to rearrange herself so that she was lying against Edward's chest. He rested his cheek on the top of her head, breathing in and sighing. It felt so good merely to be together. Under his arms, her body relaxed.

"Was it the friend that helped pave your father's way into organized crime?"

"Sort of. He helped dad make some connections when the time came, but that wasn't all of it. It takes money to do what we do. My grandfather died at about the same time that my dad lost those two patients—but in the end, grandpa had changed his original will, leaving my father with a lot of money. It was a pretty . . . volatile time for us. It was right after Rosie's attack and dad was bitter and angry with the world. I already told you that's when I'd run off and joined the Marines, and Alice was in the throes of being a bratty teenager." He paused, swallowing. It was his turn to feel an unwanted swell of emotion.

Bella must have realized he needed a moment, and she continued fiddling with his fingers for a while before she spoke. "So, what did your dad do? After he got connected?"

Edward lifted his eyebrows. "Got himself into a whole shit-show of trouble. Let's just say there was a bit of a steep learning curve. God, there's still a really big learning curve." He thought of the tangled mess that Aro's involvement brought: leaked information, seized assets, their people arrested—then, thanks to Rosalie's skill and connections in the legal realm, fully released for lack of evidence.

"Have you . . . has your . . . organization ever had to kill anyone?" Bella asked quietly. "Doing what you all do?"

He was surprised but not shocked by her question. "No." he said seriously. "We have not. Did you seriously think—?"

"I wasn't sure." Her shrug looked uncomfortable.

"You really thought"—Edward paused, frowning—"I guess I can understand why you would ask, but . . . you really thought that? And you still married me?"

She didn't meet his gaze, her voice soft and low. "I thought about Felix, and how you treated him. But I also thought about how you could have simply let Aro deal with me—or even done it yourself but you didn't. I know what you've told me and I didn't think it would have been without real cause but—."

"Hey, look at me?"

She did, seeming much less anxious than before.

"That's the line we won't cross, and my dad was very clear about that when he started this—as he was I when I joined him." He thought of what Jasper had suggested all those months ago. Shamed and shaken by it, his brother-in-law had apologized for it many times since. "Killing people—it would undermine everything we do. And practically, it never solves anything. If we were willing to do that, we'd be no better than Aro, or the corporate bastards and investors who are willing to let people die for the sake of profit. That's on top of it being morally wrong."

Yes, he was sure it was relief he saw make her shoulder muscles ease.

He wasn't so relaxed though. Bella had essentially told him she would've have stayed with him even suspecting that he might be willing to cross that line he never wanted to have to cross again. The realization stunned and troubled him and the next one even more. He followed the logic to a most disquieting place, swallowing before he could speak, his voice raspy with concern. "Did you—were you ever afraid of me, Bella, after Italy? I've made it clear, right? If something happens or we're not . . . together for some reason, you know I wouldn't—I'd never . . .

Bella stared at him. "Are you taking the drugs you run?"

"Please answer the question."

"No!" She lifted herself off of his chest and sat up, tipping her head forward to level her gaze with his. "And okay, maybe that first week when I didn't know you but after that, if I was ever afraid of you, do you think I would have stuck around? Or married you—twice?"

He exhaled. No. She wouldn't. She trusted him.

Taking another, deeper breath, he forced himself to push back at his nagging hypervigilance.

She trusts me.

Still, there had been times, maybe when she was first pregnant and hadn't told him . . . had she thought of just running and never telling him? Or would she have been afraid that he would have found her? He'd made it clear early on—

"Quit it," she said, pushing her finger into his chest imperiously. "Whatever's going on in there, stop it right now. You pick up ideas and won't let them go. You've got a brain like a damn steel trap. You don't scare me, Cullen. I'm here because I want to be, and if your sisters couldn't drive me away with their collective brand of crazy, nothing else will."

He took in and released a deep breath. "Sorry. You're right. I'm—"

"Overthinking. Again."

"Yeah."

She leaned in and kissed him softly, a gesture in which he quickly became the principal actor.

Bella leveled and grounded him in ways he'd never experienced before. He knew how to lock things down when he had to, or how to use physical activity to temporarily redirect his thoughts, but she seemed to know just the right point to press to keep him from spinning in fruitless circles of speculation.

He pulled her onto his lap, straddling him, the tiny swell of her belly just nudging into him. Their baby was there, and if it wasn't the most erotic thing, knowing they'd made a life together and that they'd have a life together.

"I love you," he whispered, hearing the words echoed back to him as he pushed into her, burying not just a part of him but his whole self in her trust and love.

- 0 -

Author's postscript:

Hi folks, a heads up about two things from Eeyorefan12 and me:

One: We both have lots going on in real life over the next while. Next chapter will be delayed but hopefully by only an extra week. Perhaps Santa will be bringing it on Christmas eve.

Two: There's a wee bit of a time jump coming.

See you next time!

DISCLAIMER: S. Meyer owns Twilight. No copyright infringement intended.