Chapter Seventy: Bella

February 2, 2026

Seattle, Washington

Whoever fucking designed the freeway system of Seattle can kiss my fucking ass.

Four years of living in LA and never had I been more frustrated with a commute than I am today. Seattle is a long city, and the major freeway runs north to south, just like the city map. There is no decent way to bypass the mess of commuter traffic, which means unless I manage to get out of the office earlier, I'm sitting in the car screaming for an hour while I try to get home only a few miles away.

And then, of course, today there had to be the fucking construction.

By the time I'm actually home, my nerves are absolutely shot and my temper is through the roof.

I park in the driveway, staring up at the house and willing myself to calm the hell down. I don't want to bring any of this home to Spawn, and I know when I come through the door, she needs me focused and present.

It has to be about her.

I take a deep breath, then another.

Nothing works, but eventually, I realize I have to get out of the car.

I stoop to gather my things before I crawl out from behind the wheel and head up the brick path to our front door.

The lock jams once, which is normal, but then I'm pushing the door open and stepping inside.

"Hey," I call, immediately hanging my keys up so I won't lose them—again.

There is no response, no demon shriek from my daughter that usually greets me.

I frown, drop my purse by the door, and head further into the house.

The living room is silent, as is the kitchen, though, to my utter shock, it looks like things have been cleaned up. The pile of dry cereal I'd had to leave on the floor this morning when Spawn fought me on the way out to daycare is magically cleaned up, and the dishes have been put away from the drying rack.

What sort of magical house fairy has moved the fuck in and when can I offer them a raise?

I wander through the house, poking my head into rooms, staring in amazement when I see all the tiny messes of our lives that have been piling up are gone, tidied up, and taken care of.

By the time I get to my room, I'm about to burst into tears.

I see Edward sitting on our bed, a laundry basket dumped out over our bedspread as he patiently folds all of Spawn's little leggings. His hands are almost too big to fold her clothes, but he does so with patience anyway.

Honestly, he's never been hotter.

Edward looks up from the pile of laundry and offers me a tired smile. Before he can even say anything though, I'm launching myself across the room and tackling him back onto our mattress. I hear him grunt as my legs straddle his waist, pinning him down.

His glorious hands land on my ass as I lean down to kiss him for all I'm worth.

"What's happening?" he asks, breaking the kiss. He's a little breathless, and his voice is laced with laughter. I cannot stop kissing him, and my lips travel along his jaw, down his throat.

"My god, you are so sexy," I groan, nipping at his earlobe. I feel his fingers flex against my ass. "You cleaned the whole house?" I ask, pulling back enough to look at him.

"I had a free afternoon," he says, shrugging it off. I can't help myself, I have to attack him again. My lips are frenzied as my fingers tug on his hair, my hips sliding over him desperately.

"Put a baby in me," I demand. Edward laughs, then takes me by surprise by flipping us over on the mattress. The clean laundry tumbles to the ground, but I don't fucking care. My legs wrap around his hips, my ankles locking together and forcing his pelvis into mine.

"Where is Spawn?" I ask as our kiss breaks. Edward starts kissing down my jaw now, and his stubble makes my whole body ache.

"With your dad," he grunts, nipping and sucking at my skin.

"Yes," I hiss, my nails scraping over his back. "Yes, okay, seriously, put a baby in me."

He laughs against my throat, pressing a kiss to my collar bones.

"I'll do what I can."

I've been off birth control for about a month now. I haven't been sure what to expect in terms of the timeline for getting pregnant, but it doesn't really matter. I've been enjoying all the practice we've been getting in in the meantime.

I reach between us, plucking open the buttons of my blouse as Edward reaches over his head, grabbing the back of his t-shirt with one hand. I watch, mesmerized, as he pulls it over his head.

How does he keep getting sexier?

I have to unlock myself from his body to shed my leggings, which feels pretty fucking tragic, but thankfully, his hands are there to distract me from my woes. Edward makes it all worth it as he grabs my leggings and underwear and pulls them off my body in a single, forceful tug.

It gives me the opportunity to get up, pushing him back on the bed once he's shed his pants. I climb on top of him, wasting absolutely no time.

When I'm finally able to sink over him, my whole body flutters, and I let out a long moan.

"Jesus, this is the good stuff," I groan. Edward laughs, his hands squeezing my ass.

I wrap my arms around his neck as I start to move over him, enjoying for once that I don't have to be quiet or sensor myself. I can be as loud as I fucking need to be, and it is a wonderful, glorious thing.

I keep bouncing over him until my legs start to cramp up. It's a pain in the ass that now that I sit behind a desk for work I actually have to warm up for sex.

Edward knows what the slowing down of my pace means though, and thankfully, my husband is a courteous fuck. He grips me tight and rolls us over until he's on top of me, giving me a much-needed break while he plows into me.

The force of our bodies coming together feels like it's going to break our bed.

So fucking be it.

I can tell he's close. I am too, and thank fuck he knows it because I feel his fingers slide between us, rubbing me in exactly the way I need him to.

I come hard, my body locking up as my back arches into his thrusts. I can feel him coming inside me, and through the haze of love and lust and passion, I'm faintly aware that this could be it. This could be the time we make another baby.

We both come down, exhausted but still locked together in our embrace. Neither of us speaks for a long minute while we both try to catch our breaths.

Finally, Edward sighs.

"Oh, I made dinner too. It's in the oven."

I glance up at him, shaking my head.

"Crawl off me," I tell him, unlocking my legs from around his hips. "I'm going to blow you into next fucking week."