Hey all! The net few chapters are some of the first things I wrote when coming up with this story and I hope it's as exciting for you all as it is for me. I've loved it! Thank you for your loevly reviews! Hope this one is even better ;) Please RR.

Our Saint grows paler with every passing second. Especially when Edward Senior parks up on the drive and I can't help but drop my shock in a curse. The house is fucking huge. It's not a house, it's a mansion.

We open to a huge marble fountain centred in the drive way. Following up the several steps to the detailed archway where two large windows on either side of each floor steal the sunshine. Green vines of ivy spread like on turrets to a castle and any minute now, a fairytale maiden is going to open herself up to the balcony above. Which will piss me off because our Saint would fit so well into the puzzle piece while I'll stand out like Lego.

The gravel squeaks under the tyres and we roll slowly forward to stop from losing grip but by going even slower, I'm even more amazed at the design of the sights.

'Could this place get any bigger?!' I ask, surprised by the apparent lack of sound in my voice.

Carlisle still hears me though and with a flicker of something I don't recognise, especially not in him, he nods. He points in the direction which bears more greenery making my loose jaw fall open even wider as I take in every inch of the greenery spread like an open arena upon acres and acres of field. This is literally like a dream home and even though I totally sympathise with his sudden lack of humour, I hate that the garden furniture is technically ruining the grass on these perfect grounds.

'Your house is stunning…' I utter with a gasp, unable to think of anything else.

'It's not my house.' He mutters, stepping out of the car in an abrupt manner. But he softens a little with the air in his lungs and opens up my door for me, his hand extended.

'Stop panicking, you're going to be fine.' I promise, squeezing the hand he's held out.

He doesn't let go and with the Kid coming up by my right side, we take the daunting walk up the steps to the archway in a three. His hand is trembling beneath mine, warm around the palm with the dry fingers griping the side of my hand for fear of death. Selfishly, I feel like I should've been on the defence rather than the defended. It should be Edward and I enclosing Carlisle rather than how we're positioned now. It's sweet, slightly condescending of the boys but again, I'm not the one who needs it.

Edward senior points to the door while he heads off round the back to do some horticulture work, leaving a choice of one of us to knock. Carlisle's frozen stiff, I'm falling in love with the wood so it leaves the Kid to musically rap his knuckles on the front. He gives our landlord a look of encouragement.

The moment the door opens, his whole six foot two posture loosens and he grieves a large but silent sigh of relief, a nervous grin spreading across his face.

The woman at the door, though older, is very beautiful and within a second of clasping eyes with her I know her instantly. She has a wider smile than her son but her eyes are the same jewelled colour and her bronze hair has the same reddish tinge in the light. She's wearing a long summery shirt, the kind you see in designer shops with posh heels and skin tight jeans but it still looks like a good middle class, middle aged outfit. I wouldn't argue with her for sure.

'Hey Mom,' Edward greets shyly, smiling and returning the same enthusiastic hug when she clasps him in her arms.

Just the way they welcome each other is a reminder that Edward is an only child and part of me feels a little warm. Until she passes her enthusiasm on to us. She grabs Carlisle by the shoulders and squeezes him tightly, offering the proud look any normal mother would happily give.

'How are you doing?' She asks slowly, clocking him directly in the eyes so he both struggles to look away and, more importantly, lie.

'Nervous.' He admits with a tough smile. She sighs and rubs his cheek.

'Don't be. He's in a good mood.'

'Not for long.' He murmurs back, his shoulders shrugging in his oversized jumper.

She softens her grin even more, her eyebrows drawing to a delicate frown. I guess this must be a reference to his choice of clothing because Edward laughs again, the Saint's cheeks reddening as he tries not to fall into the same outburst and I'm smiling, too. Bearing in mind I've never really met the woman, I'm thrilled when she hugs me just as tightly as she did the boys, smiling as widely as you'd want her to and complimenting every inch of me from my chaotic hair, my gaping expression and my warm cheeks.

'Esme, of course?'

'The one and only.' Edward mutters and if I was wearing heels or wasn't standing in front of his mother, I would've kicked him.

'It's lovely to meet you,' I say, looking to the boys to hide my awkwardness but I'm given the most heart-warming smile and from my blonde Adonis; a look of unwarranted pride? Aw.

'It's wonderful finally meeting you. I've been desperate to know whose been keeping the boys in check.'

Her voice is as gentle as one of the piano melodies that Kid can play backwards. It's easy to see why Edward is so in tune with music. Everything about her is a song from the way she dresses, the way she talks, the way she stands and the way she looks at the two boys and myself; a random stranger as if we're the world's creators.

'That would be me.' I boast playfully, laughing with her in a very girly manner. She ushers us in through the open door, still beaming at the three of us like we're entering her home which only grants me the excuse to love it that bit more.

It seems we look even better in the chandeliers light because she covers her sigh with a hand and looks somewhat emotional. My eyes are still taken on the chandelier. A chandelier. She gasps a little, her eyes alighting before she melts a little into her proud smile, straightening her son's band t-shirt and soaking us in. Carlisle is smiling.

'Don't you all look so grown-up!'

Again, the choice of outfits in the three of us does little to help me to see her claim.

'I think only Es is thoughtfully dressed…' Carlisle says gesturing to the weather and in the direction he's standing, the sunlight from the open window pours down his side making his hair brighter.

'Es?' she questions, hands almost clapping together as she joys over the familiarity. 'Do you prefer Es or Esme?'

On a usual day her excitement would be a little alarming but considering she's looking not at me but at Carlisle, I feel strangely pleased by her joy. To top it off she's making the whole scene far more welcoming than I could've ever anticipated. It's hard not to like her.

'Whatever comes naturally.' I'm not usually one for strangers giving me a nickname, or any nicknames with the certain exception, but she's friendly and it feels normal for her to be a little over-bearing.

'Then I insist you call me Liz. It's the only name I really respond to anyway.' Despite her smile, there's something about the way she giggles which almost sounds like she's insisting on calling her 'Mom' instead. Though that might be in relation to what Carlisle said about Edward being an only child. I could succumb to being spoilt with attention. Even just for today.

A weird smile is on my mouth as we follow her footsteps through the large hallway, left into a closed room, her heels clicking against the expensive laminate flooring followed by my nerdy, architect-fuelled drool. She stops at two white doors and turns to Edward.

'Your father should be setting up the lights…' And then she turns to Carlisle who has lightened up immeasurably until this comment. 'And your father-'

'Is plotting mass-brutality?' He says smartly and I'm surprised to find him dishonouring his own family name so brashly but Elizabeth, or Liz, smiles back.

'He says he'll be back when he can. He's just got to pick up something from town but he'll be back for dinner.'

Cullen snorts though I don't know why when frankly I think he should be grateful for the absence. It means we can get started on what we planned. Without having to be on guard.

'My sense of worth?' He questions to me and I have to return the laugh. Even if he's pissy, he's still cute.

'What needs doing?' I offer instead, almost whimpering when I see her pull a large list from her pocket and scan through it. 'List' is underestimating. The Great Wall of China is shorter than that thing.

'Well, I need you boys to be doing the odd jobs. Lights, banners, stands and Es and I…' She seems to be revelling in the fact that my short name can be shortened further. Oddly, it makes me laugh rather than irks me. At this point Carlisle softly intervenes.

'If it helps, Liz, Esme has a degree in architecture…' At this moment I don't see the point in his random boasting but she seems to appreciate it. I don't even know the woman and she's already flattering me with the look of pride bursting from her. 'I'd say her measurements will be far more accurate than the rest of ours…'

'Carlisle…' I murmur, frowning in an attempt to hide my flamed cheeks. 'Anything you need me to do, I'm happy to help.'

Thank God we got picked up early because from one simple sentence the day flips on its head from being run by Edward's mother to almost run by me instead. She grins, pulling me excitedly to the nearest table and flattens out her sheet like a client. Within seconds, she bounds into asking my opinion on every little thing.

'See I'm thinking if we set the tables like…'

'She doesn't even know the place.' Edward reminds her, rolling his eyes.

'Oh, Gosh! You're so right! Well come on, then. I'll show you the main hall and we can get to work. You men-.'

We turn to find them both in a playful and unexpected brawl, Carlisle holding the upper hand until he realises we're staring at them in which case he quite literally drops Edward.

'You boys,' she continues, pouring emphasise on the sound, 'Can get cleaning. I want the rooms immaculate, Edward. My standard immaculate.'

'Yes, Mom.' He replies, bored.

'Carlisle, dear. Why don't you see if you can source the decorations and get started setting them up?'

He gladly accepts and with half a smile towards me, trails off to start as quickly as possible with Edward soon abandoning us, too. The moment we're alone, Liz secures an arm in mine and giggles.

'I live for the look on their faces when I give them a chore to do. Bless.' She laughs musically, sounding particularly kind as she does so, when she leads from the doors into a very large open area full of chairs and tables scattered together. Almost like a hall with an elevated stage at the very back.

It feels like a hall, nothing like a home with the smell of paint thick in the air. She shows me her vision, exampling with table cloths and candles as she talks me through the design, eager for my opinion. I don't have the heart to remind her that interior design isn't one of my qualifications just yet but because it's a passion I share, or that I'm learning to share, I let her ramble ahead. Her excitement triples when I fall into the same addictive frenzy she does. She shows me a few rooms downstairs, ignoring several including the second and third floors, as she walks me through the billiard room, the extensive garden outside, the conservatory, and coming back to the hall again. With a giggle she informs me I'll see the dining room later and adds a rather strict warning to stay out of the kitchen because it's not 'up-to-standard'. Though when she grins again I think it's meant to be a joke.

'My plan is to get started on the hall and then finish the other rooms, too.'

'Good plan.' I commend her, looking at the high ceilings, more chandeliers and golden borders and feeling like an insect in an ant farm. An ant farm lacking ants.

'But tell me…' she holds onto my arm again, smiling tensely, her lipstick shining under the lights from the huge windows and her eyes so like Edward's that talking to her is just like talking to him. Except easier and less pessimistic. 'How is he?'

I'm surprised she's suddenly leapt at me so trustingly after knowing me less than an hour and because I am unsure of the relationship between them all, even if it is close, I struggle to answer her. At the very least I know she's talking about my Saint.

'He's… okay.' I say finally. 'In all honesty, I think it's Edward that's been worrying.'

'That I can be sure of. Edward's always been a bit uncomfortable with things out of his knowledge.' She says, smiling in a way that is both friendly but also polite. I'm pleased it's another thing I picked up on without her guidance. It shows how well I know him. Even after two short years. 'He doesn't like the unexpected but Carlisle's older. He's grown accustomed to such things.'

We stay quiet for a little longer, sunlight beaming through the windows and making the heat like an oven while we decorate the tables with various flowers and such. I think Liz enjoys my company especially when it comes to flowers and I'm not sure if that's because she never expected it or perhaps she's searching for common interests.

'Have you always been green-fingered?' She asks as I cut the stems again.

I hadn't even noticed I was doing it, I was thinking about Carlisle …and several other things associated only with Carlisle... none of them particularly appropriate so you can imagine how hard I blush when she innocently comments with such a potentially vulgar word.

'Oh? Err, yeah I suppose so. I grew up with them...'

'Ah, your mother is a florist?'

I suppose this is an invitation for her to get to know me though it's comforting and not as invasive as it sounds.

'No.' I say with a grin. 'My dad grew them though.'

'How lovely! I must admit I don't tend to flowers enough. I wish I did. They're so much more eloquent.'

'Like all the meanings and stuff?' I guess, rearranging one vase before moving on to the next table. She nods, scattering gems with precision. 'You must have a good memory.'

'I only really have the basics. Like roses meaning love, iris meaning wisdom. I think these hyacinths are constancy but I'm not certain.' She takes a look at my hard work, delicately holding the blue petals before scattering them back into the vase. 'There's so many specific meanings I'm bound to get them wrong.'

Her laugh is so much like Edward's, gentle at first but still packed with mirth. I'm suddenly feeling miserable that I didn't get the chance to obsess over my flowers this morning.

'But meanings change with colour, right?' I ask, surprised by the suggestion of concern in my tone. If she's noticed it, she does well to hide it.

'If only men thought like that.' She says with a laugh which I think is a joke at her Husband's expense. 'Technically yes but I'm sure they fit under a general term.'

'Like Roses?'

'Like Roses.' She agrees. 'When I was younger I could prattle off every different meaning and not give it a second thought. Like yellow roses meaning friendship, white roses meaning innocence… the obvious red.' She rolls her eyes at something but busies her hands again.

'What about orange roses?' What about white and pink Peruvin lilies? What about their union? What does it mean?!

'Orange?' She repeats. 'What a peculiar taste. You know, I've never heard anyone loving orange roses.'

'No, no.' I shake my head, scratching the exposed part of my shoulder nervously. 'I was asking their meaning.'

'Oh!' She laughs at herself, like Alice would and it makes me miss her intensely. 'Well orange roses are quite rare. Not extensively rare, just uncommon.' She looks to judge how interested I am in her information and it's a struggle to hold back my tongue in demanding the answer. 'All roses are a form of love.'

'Yeah?' I say, casually though my teeth are breaking through my lip.

'Well if you're looking at gradient wise, orange isn't that far from red. And colour wise it can be a lot more bold than pink which I think is admiration and joy…'

My hand is gripping the tools in my hand, the flowers curling and the knife gleaming under my moist hands.

'So orange ones…?' I'm trying not to be impatient but the need to know, the rush of heat through my skin.

'Enthusiasm? I think it's probably similar to pride and admiration but more energetic… adoration maybe?' She laughs and shakes away a piece of her short hair. 'Not exactly the kind to send to your parents.'

'Shoot!' I wasn't even thinking but the edge of the blade has caught my thumb, splitting the skin perfectly and producing a huge tear of blood.

'Oh dear!' She says, stepping towards me. 'Luckily, we know a first aider, eh?'

Her eyes flick to her watch and smiling, she indicates the other room encouraging me to hold my hand up so as not to taint the table cloths.

'I suppose we should see how the boys are getting on anyway.'

For starters, not as well as we hoped. It was hot in the hall meaning that it's even hotter in the corridors and such. They've both disregarded of their outer clothing, Carlisle now dressed in just a shirt while he pours with sweat. With a gentle call and a hand on my shoulder she beckons him towards us.

'Your skills are required, Doctor.'

I've been in this stupid position so many times this month that all I can do is blush and look to the floor in hopes my fringe will hide the most of my embarrassment. He frowns, stepping towards us before offering a smile in relief.

'Ah.'

'I'm sorry, it was an accident.' I mutter, ignoring Edward's laughter as an extra pair of eyes watch over the exchange. 'Honestly, I'm fine.'

'Still, maybe an X-ray will help?'

'An X-ray?' I question.

'Considering how clumsy you've become as of recent...?' He laughs, holding his hand out to take a look at my severely minor injury.

'Edward.' Liz barks suddenly, handing a hand out. 'Come look at the hall?'

'But I'm doing this?' He complains, pointing up to the lights he's entwining around the doorway.

'Now.' She insists, glaring. He rolls his eyes, mutters something under his breath and passes us in contempt while Carlisle holds my thumb at an angle to stop the blood from oozing. His deep eyes hold mine, heavy with humour as he watches them, for no real reason, leave the room.

'Just to give you privacy.' Liz mutters, waving a hand and closing the door on us. I blush even harder at the effort she's gone to in order to secure this apparent need for privacy. Thankfully, he's chuckling.

'How bad is the pain on a scale of one-to-ten?'

'Are you joking?' I scoff, pointing my thumb towards his nose. 'It doesn't even make the scale. I really didn't want to cause a fuss.'

'I must admit your injuries are rather trivial…' He winks at me, eyeing the tiny drop of blood with a playful smile. I'm raising an eyebrow at him. Okay so now I'm offended.

'Aren't you meant to be giving me the full going-over?' I question, distastefully. 'You don't want to miss anything. I don't want no-backstreet surgeon. For all you know, I could be a haemophiliac!'

'You're right.' He muses, he looks at my thumb, watches the blood, squeezes the joint slightly so that I complain. With his eyes on me, smirking, he sucks the blood from my cut, tongue pressed against the slit, warm liquid touching his lips so that a shiver is itching at my neck.

'Nope.' He says, freeing his mouth as he shows me the wet edge of my pink, but non-bleeding, cut. 'Clotting perfectly. You'll survive.'

'I hope you don't do that with all your patients.' I whisper, frowning. 'No wonder we were given privacy.'

'Only the beautiful ones.' He replies smartly.

'I suppose that should make me jealous?' I guess.

'If you'd like… for now I think we should uphold what little shred of dignity Edward is trying to uphold.'

'And you're saying this after he denied you a blow-'

'For the last time, Mom.' Edward groans, throwing the door back open and storming through it. He glares at Carlisle on the way past but the laughter is sparkling in his blue eyes as he drops my hand back to me. 'See?'

'Patient is doing well.' Carlisle confirms, smirking. 'No further cause for treatment.'

'Should I suggest Get Well Soon flowers?' Liz asks, smiling in a way that makes me blush again while Carlisle frowns in confusion.

'So what's next?' I ask, turning again to Elizabeth. She's running her hands down the list, murmuring to herself when Senior walks through a back door and points to Carlisle.

'Feeling strong?'

'Sir?'

'Got some heavy lifting to do. Edward why don't you help your mother with the flowers?'

'Oh ha-ha.' He says stiffly, ignoring his father's jibes by simply letting Liz rush to his defence (and rush, she does).

'The flowers are already done, thank you very much. Why don't you go help out the band instead? Depending on what you're doing, Dear, Esme might be able to help.'

Senior smiles, not as intentionally patronising as it is I think, and guiltily shakes his head. 'Sorry Sweet, more of a man's job. Tools and various other things. Wouldn't want anyone getting hurt?'

Carlisle coughs, delicately raising his hand but with a grin I interrupt the two of him.

'Better stand aside and let the experts handle the job, then.' I reply, trying to resist the urge to lean on my hip. From behind, Elizabeth lets out one proud snort to her Husband.

'I like her.'

'Esme studied architecture…' Carlisle explains pulling at the ends of his hair as Senior looks as if he's going to burst into the strange temper Edward does when you call him out on his shit. Instead he laughs.

'Goodness me, all five foot of you?'

'Five foot six, and yes, Sir. Majored in it for four years and finished with a 4.0 average.'

I didn't say I was naturally amazing at mathematics and science but by heck I worked for it. Hence why the scholarship had been really difficult to get, as had interior design in a second degree. No one wants me to do another undergraduate study. Least of all the university.

'Well… that shuts me up... I came out of undergrad with a 3.8.' He says with a jovial laugh. 'Come on then, I'll need your instruction. Coming, Edward?'

'Are you going to insult the genes you installed me with due to your faulted and one dimensional view of gender stereotypes?'

'Eh?'

'I'll help.' He says with a roll of his eyes, making Carlisle and Elizabeth laugh in a manner which suggests it's typical for Edward and Edward to banter.

We don't go very far into the garden, we stick to a huge wooden gazebo which the boys are sweating over trying to put up with the sun so stiflingly warm on our skin. Not that anyone would admit it but it's far easier having me instruct them all because it gives them the excuse to mess around a bit, leaping over wooden slats while I fuss around with all the specifics.

I say mess around. Of course there's only two of them that are messing around, the other is stuck to my side like a loyal Puppy, bounding with excitement at every new job I give him.

'So what's left, the borders?' He asks pulling the material from his skin where the sweat has made it into a second body suit. He's pink in the cheeks, his breath hot where we've spent too long out here but Edward and Senior are winding each other up in the background while Liz hands out glasses of fresh juice.

'I think if we get the top all linked…' I point to where we've managed to plant the four tall feet into the space. 'Then all we have to do is wind in the lights which you boys can do while I help out Liz with the rest of the hall.'

'Okay.' He agrees, flicking the sweat from his palms and neck in disgust. 'I'll just go grab a ladder.'

'Before you do.' I grab him by the wrist. 'Take your shirt off, you're going to overheat in this weather.'

'Honestly, I'm fine.'

'You're melting.' I correct. 'So am I but at least I'm wearing something light.'

'It's not really appropriate...' He whispers, shyly, throat coming down in a thick swallow. With a laugh, I nod behind me. I didn't get the suggestion from thin air. Both Masen boys are passing their shirts to Elizabeth who folds them as though putting away washing.

'Oh.'

'Shirt, ladder and I'm going to grab a drink.'

Elizabeth grins when she sees I'm making my way over to the table and praises my hard work. She also takes time to comment on the heat and hand me a cold cloth from the same ice cooler the drinks were in.

'I don't know how it got warm so quickly. No one would think we're in March!'

The water is refreshing on my flushed skin, the cold water even better as it soothes over every suggestion of an ache which has been threatening to appear since we started. I'm surprisingly pleased. We've managed to get a lot done, even with the varying efforts of the men as they either fix other lights and decorations, or, as is more prominent, prove why they struggle to work together. It's only Carlisle that has refused to waver in this heat but I think that's because I'm bossing him around… and he seems to enjoy that.

After spending a good ten minutes cooling down, I'm introduced to what a shitting waste of an effort it is on his return without the lack of shirt. I really shouldn't have done this to myself, especially not in front of company. Fuck me, if we were alone, I'd press myself right against every indentation of his torso, I'd work my hands along those perfect shoulders and I would ride him so hard into the grass that not only would we leave covered in mud and soil… but we would leave imprints of our body in the greenery.

I think I could turn myself on thinking about him orgasming, his hands deep into the earthy ground as I lick every inch of him.

'Bad news, I'm afraid.' Carlisle calls, wiping the shine from his forehead and standing close to the where the breeze is cooling. 'I've looked but I can't find one.'

'Have you checked the garage?' Senior asks, ready to slink off in hunt.

'Empty… excusing a few classic cars of course.' He smiles at me, rubbing his hands together as he tries to work out how to gather the needed inches to get up-top. Edward isn't much help, if any, he keeps making curt suggestions and asking if he can be excused.

'Could always climb it?' I tease but both of them look to each other, their upper nudity and their shine of sweat with something of a mutual disgust. To further excuse themselves, they both show me their hands. They're black, covered with dirt and soil where we've been working though mine are refreshingly pink. They don't want to get the frame dirty. 'Alright, why don't you give me a hand up?'

'Es…' He starts to say but Edward's smile is helping to persuade him otherwise.

'Go on, up against the stand' I say, pointing. He holds his smirk as tightly as possibly.

'Please be careful.' Liz says from behind.

Carlisle groans, crouching slightly with his hands cupped between himself. His shirt is dropped between him, his cheeks flushed in the most adorable way. He nods his head to Edward, asks him to stand behind me to ensure I don't fall and gives me the go ahead.

'Wait!'

'What?' I ask, stepping back. He nods to my feet and with an eye roll I chuck my shoes across the grass and indicate trying again.

I secure my hands on his naked shoulders, refusing myself the right to desire it, kicking up from his palm to stand up on one sturdy shoulder and then the other, my hand against the wood. He lifts me up, his hands guiding the back of my thighs as he holds me secure and once he's nodded to Edward, he pushes his posture straight.

'All okay?' He asks, head tilted up at me.

I cheekily wink at him, snicker when he glows beetroot and indicate that he needs to lift me higher. He freaks a little when I push myself on the top of my feet but he needs to remember my balance is, mostly, fantastic and this is a move I've been doing since I was five, if not younger. Edward comes around to pass me the end of one of the poles, listening to Liz indicate that it needs to be higher, lower, further right.

'All done?' He asks, eyes on me.

'Yep.' That's the thing about ladders. They have steps, unfortunately Carlisle does not and as much as you can climb him like a tree… getting down isn't so easy. 'Err? I think I'm going to jump-'

'Es!' Two of them gasp but Edward is laughing at the both of them.

'Its fine, when she falls, we'll have an excuse to leave.'

'Edward.' Liz whispers disapprovingly but he just grins at me.

'Here?' Carlisle suggests, hands sliding from my thighs to where my hips are. 'Now jump…'

'Sure?' I ask. He nods, smiling tensely so I step back and just when I think I'm going to be free falling, his palms tighten on my waist, guiding me down his front like a really inappropriate tango dance. If he wanted he could lick my nipple, that's how closely I'm pressed against him.

'Hey.' I greet when I've slid down enough to face him.

'Hey, yourself.' He murmurs and now my hands are on those shoulders and holy fuck I'm drooling. We could so easily make love here. For hours, too. Mmm.

'Look what I found!' Senior calls from behind. Carlisle carefully places me on the floor so that I can see the huge ladder he's carrying and feel the boys laughter in my ear. He detaches his hands from my body.

'That'll probably make things easier…'

'Esme.' Liz calls, coming towards us and grinning. Edward keeps shaking his head at her but she's ignoring it very well. 'Don't suppose you're any good with a paintbrush?

'The best!' Carlisle says with a bright, and sweetly gorgeous smile.

She beams, showing me exactly what she has in mind for a spot at the back of the stage while she tends to something else.

Soon enough the hours tick by unconcerned, things get done with speed and once Elizabeth leaves to start dinner, I paint the bottom of the stage with the quick drying paint. It's been a hot day and as much fun as the radio is, there's been something genuinely thrilling about hearing the boys in the garden as they fuss with the remaining lighting and benches to outdoor tents and paths. Eventually though, while the light is streaming through the open windows and drying my handy work, the laughter settles down until I can only see Edward and his father fooling about.

'Hey.'

Oh holy fuck.

Carlisle's stood close to the doorway, his jumper and his shirt in his hands with a gorgeous shine of sweat over his body, those perfect muscles still on display. His light hair is a mess where he has obviously been fussing with it, his jaw is still slightly dark with that gorgeous stubble and with him watching me, I could just about faint.

'Get much done?' He probes.

How is it possible I forget how insanely good looking he is?

'H-hey.' I stammer, alerted, eyes taking him as he walks right across the room, through the tables to stand below the stage.

I have no idea if he looked sexier in the shower or now. Okay, that's a lie. He was definitely hotter when he was pleading my name. And when he had his hand in me-. Shouldn't be thinking about that now.

'It looks great in here.' He says softly, looking around the room with a grin.

I quickly peek at the door and trusting we're free, loop an arm around his neck and pull him to my mouth. He wasn't expecting it and jumping a little, he kisses me back, cheeks coloured when I pull away.

'Shirts are so overrated.' I say emphatically, looking down his chest.

'It's still like four-hundred degrees outside. Working in that heat is killer.'

'Working?' I question, playfully. 'Is that why you're so tanned?'

'Take a whiff if you don't believe me. I smell vile.' He extends his arms and grins. I inhale through my nose and laugh.

'All man.' I assure him, wrinkling my nose. He laughs, rubbing his face tiredly, jumper tight in his grip. 'Carlisle?'

'Mm?'

'I-.' I stop, breathe in through my nose again despite the mix of fragrance and push my hair out my face. 'I'm having a really nice day...'

'Es,' he murmurs, shyly, looking away. 'I am, too...'

He's even more embarrassed now, rubbing the back of his head and shifting the hair up from my unexpected praise as he tries to look away from me. He keeps trying to say the words he's been meaning to say for a while but with a quick look towards me, he swallows them into silence, eyes on his feet.

I just want to throw myself at him.

'Reckon you could kiss me again without sending me crazy?'

He stutters, looking again towards the door before reaching up on his tiptoes to press his lips onto mine. He's shy, still nervous though I'm not exactly sure why. I just make sure he feels my support and leaning into me, I'm sure he feels it. He's so blissfully sweet, letting himself be open with me because he trusts me explicitly.

'And what is going on here?!' A voice roars.

His whole stance buckles beneath me and he violently throws himself from me at speed, a hand falling immediately to his chest. It's not funny but Edward bursts into laughter even louder than that in the car, holding his stomach as he continues to laugh.

'It's not funny, Kid.' Carlisle murmurs weakly and despite my grin, I realise he was scared. He still is very, very scared.

'You just shat yourself!' He yells, laughing more but he's suddenly caught an eye of the tense expression and guiltily clears his throat. 'Oh… err… sorry?'

Hastily, Cullen pulls on his jumper, covering himself up and flattening the hood as he rubs his hand back through his thick locks. He's forcing himself to smile.

'Mom says we should go get ready now. Considering we might need showers and stuff.'

'Thanks.'

'Second floor. Left of the staircase.'

'I know what rooms.' He replies, stiffly.

Edward holds his hand up in surrender, smiling awkwardly. Carlisle attempts a weak smile and promises to meet me at the staircase once I'm ready. As he walks past the Kid, he relaxes to let a reassuring hand touch his shoulder and with an encouraging look, heads out the room.

'Nice going.' I congratulate him. Edward groans.

'I genuinely thought he was fine. He was so relaxed in the garden. Excited even.'

'Excited?' I repeat. 'Really?' Proves how oblivious Edward can be.

'Yeah alright, I'll go talk to him… But I'm being serious. Time to get ready.'

I take a quick look on my phone and grimace. It's half three. It feels like we've been here for days but everything I could have been instructed to do is done. Despite Edward's thoughtlessness, he's looking genuinely guilty so I let him help me up and squeeze his hand.

'It's not your fault. Given a normal day he probably would've laughed.'

'For a moment I thought he would… Now I feel kinda shitty. I've spent hours having a go at both of you and I pissed him off.'

'Edward?'

'What?' He asks, frowning.

'Are you nervous, too?'

He scoffs, taking a second to play it off but when he realises I'm staring he nods. 'A little. I just didn't think… I was trying to be normal.'

'He'll appreciate it another time.' I promise. 'I will, too.'

'Eurgh, well I better go and-' He's interrupted by a voice outside, a voice of snobbery and arrogance. I feel my blood run cold.

'What do you think you are wearing?!'

For no real reason, Edward puts a finger to his lips and tells me to stay put, listening out carefully.

'Two years and that's the first thing you say?' We hear our landlord scoff but even with the angry reply I can hear from here that its said questions, fearing further repercussions though acidic.

'Carlisle! Dear?' There's the soft sound of her exasperated sigh followed by the sound of footsteps.

'What?'

'Don't you 'what' me, Eustace.' Elizabeth replies hotly. 'I've told them to be ready for dinner so you'd better get ready, too.'

'Fine. Send him in immediately.'

'No chance. Let him cool off and clean up. You can speak to him later.'

'Fine. If he wishes to act like a child...'

Edward looks to me, his green eyes enlarge as he swallows down a breath. For once I'm glad I'm with Edward and not Carlisle. It means I don't have to pretend to be brave, I can let my face look as disgusted as it wants and find support in the reflection on the Kid's face.

After a brief conversation with Elizabeth, Edward shows me to the room, fetches my stuff for me and disappears to apologise to Carlisle. The shower close to my wall is running, though and I know for a fact he's probably trying to clear his mind.

Regardless, it makes me sad for this Morning's lost time.

Luckily, I started my routine far earlier than the boys meaning I don't have to wash as thoroughly. I make time to do it though because the water is cooling. Especially when I soak my skin in the sweet perfume that I only use for special occasions. Alice's suggestions are useful and once I've curled my hair and softened them to make them look far classier than they would usually, I start on make-up. Make-up is easier though and ensuring my neck is all covered up, despite the fact that I haven't been able to spot anything anyway, I move on to my face. Elizabeth knocks on my door.

'Can I come in?' She opens the door warily, smiling at my admission and letting her smile grow when she sees all that I've done so far. 'Oh, don't you look wonderful.'

'I'm nowhere near finished yet.' I laugh, huddling close to the beauty desk by the windows and letting the natural sunlight fall over my skin. The jumper is longer on me than I had expected, coming close to my knees especially when I squat. I can feel the green eyes of the Masen bloodline hanging onto my back.

'Perhaps not his greatest choice…' she murmurs, coming up close behind me. She's already dressed, her hair swooped behind and pinned up to look incredibly fancy with a Grecian inspired blue dress draping down.

'The jumper?' I guess, she nods.

'How did it come into your possession?' She asks curiously, watching me struggling to drag the eyeliner across my lids

'Mine? Err, it was hanging on the door. I thought it was best to put it somewhere he wouldn't lose it.'

Nice one, Esme. Lie to the one person in the house who has been taught to recognise lying the moment she hears it. She comes towards me, indicating the stick in my hand and encourages me to stay still as she drags it with precision in a perfect line across my lid.

'They're quite lucky to have you, aren't they?' She hums to herself before moving onto my other eye and carefully drawing across that, too.

I almost want to tell her my hands are usually a lot steadier but since this morning, hell, since a few weeks ago, no matter how steady they are, they are just as vulnerable to trembling, too.

'I doubt it.' I confess, shyly. 'They're always looking out for me, I'm far luckier.'

Maybe even to a fault but I like the fact that this isn't specifically a Carlisle thing. Edward is just as loyal and just as obsessed with my safety. He's also better at communicating it and far more honest with his intentions. Though that makes him impulsive, too. She sighs softly, knowing that I'm telling her what she wants to hear but appreciating it, too.

'Well it can't have driven you too crazy if you're still living with them.' She laughs, pleased with my gratitude when I look in the mirror.

'I don't think I could live with anyone else.' Emmett I'd murder, I'd never see Jasper, I hardly know the girls and Alice is currently plotting my death.

'I hope you're not just saying that because I'm Edward's mother.' She sings suspicious. 'I think I know more than anyone he can be somewhat impossible to live with.'

'Not at all.' I lie. He can be impossible but he's also very useful. Even when he's pissing me off there's something that feels homely about his banter. I don't tell her that, I just watch her raise a questioning eyebrow at me. 'Carlisle usually keeps him in check most days.'

'I don't believe that for a second.'

'Okay, fine.' I admit, laughing. 'But he's not that bad. He even cleared up the other day.'

She gasps audibly. 'He did? Oh I'm so jealous, he never does that at home. Paper everywhere. It drives his father mad.'

I laugh with her, finishing off my face off make-up before grabbing a red lipstick and questioning it. From behind me, she nods her head encouragingly.

'How about Carlisle?' She asks, a knowing expression on her face that makes me want to blush yet again.

'To live with?' I question, my voice guilty.

'You've been with him a while, right?'

Does she mean living arrangements or been with? Is she being personal? How am I meant to know? Someone translate!

'We've been in the same house three years in the summer.'

The same bedroom intermittently since two and a half years ago. Nothing like when it first started and he used to sacrifice his whole bed to sleep in what would become Edward's room. Or even a few months after that when I used to just start sneaking in and ask for company which usually ended with him on the floor. Then came the times after that when I used to avoid waking him at all. I would just crawl into the space next to him and sleep. Eventually he accustomed to me. I wormed my way in.

'I'm very proud of them…'

'Me too.' I say, she catches my eye and gives me a rather nervous smile.

'I'm pleased you're here, Esme. I know you don't really know any of us-'

'It feels like I do.' I don't know whose fault that is but I like it.

'I think they like having you around. They relax around you… especially Carlisle…'

Cue the stuttering, blushing mess that is my guilty ass. 'Oh, I don't know about that…' I say, becoming shy.

For example twice he's nearly suffered a heart attack while in my presence and I didn't even get to help him chill out about it this morning. She looks like she's going to say something else, her mouth opens, hand reaching out when Edward walks in with a quick knock.

'Don't suppose you've got-'

'Edward!' His mother growls. 'What have I told you about knocking?'

He blushes, stepping back to hide towards the door but with a laugh I assure them its fine. I'm wearing a jumper after all. Edward looks like he wants to drown he's so embarrassed which is strange because he's definitely seen me in less clothes than this and not freaked. Opposing this, he's also very nearly seen me naked and completely freaked.

'I-errr-'

'It's fine.' I repeat, sniggering.

'I hope you're not like this at home? I don't want people to think you were raised –'

'Sorry, sorry…' he says quickly, cringing as his mother lays in to him. It makes me laugh even harder.

'Now what did you want that was so urgent?' She demands as he fusses with his shirt collar.

'Carlisle was just looking for you…' He says, looking at me.

'Right?' I answer, frowning. 'Well you can send-'

'Yeah so when you're ready…' he looks pointedly at his mother while she's got her eyes on me. He's literally pointing with his gaze, keeping his mouth shut while I giggle a little more.

'On that note, we'll leave you to it, Dear.' She says, touching my shoulder kindly before glaring at her son. 'Edward?'

I can still hear her telling him off even when they shut the door. So while the entertainment takes place outside, I give myself another once over in the mirror, pout a little to check my lipstick, tape up my tits (it feels super weird) and finally pull on the dress. It looks even better than it did last week and the bag matches the shoes in such a gorgeous way that if she wasn't constantly irritating me I might marry Alice.

Like anyone, I spend a few moment fussing with the straps of my rouge number, pinching the tight fabric, smoothing out any creases from my hips. Grabbing a small bag and rearranging all my casual stuff back into the box my dress was in, I open the bedroom door to find Edward rolling his eyes.

'Oh. Wow.' I say, grinning. He looks so smart now he's fully dressed with his sharp black suit and his skinny red tie matching the material of my dress. His hair looks so neat, too with an Edward-type aftershave burning my nose.

'I was going to say the same thing.' He smiles. 'You look great.'

'Thank you.' I reply, hand immediately going to my hair as I look down to my shoes. They position me just under Edward's height which is good because it means I should be at a good height for Carlisle too. Speaking of. 'Is he…?'

Edward takes my hand from my hair, giving it a reassuring squeeze as he drags me into the hallway, dropping my hand perfectly into Carlisle's. Almost as if... Oh how silly. Carlisle's hands are warm but not over warm, comfortable, the cuffs of his shirt covering his wrist with the jewellery catching my eye and sparkling.

I let my eyes come up slowly. He's staying oddly silent, no words coming out of his mouth, no movements, nothing. Until Edward nudges him.

See, Cullen's always gorgeous but now he's made a special effort to look even more immaculate than usual. The red in the tie suits the red of his cheeks and compliments the dark blue of his eyes. This time, his hair stays in place away from his forehead not daring to move. I'm having second thoughts. All this time I was convinced he looked better when he was in a slight disarray but now I just don't know. He's drop dead mouth-watering and the sting of his mint cologne is only enticing me further.

'You've lost weight.' Is the only thing he can think to say. His voice trembles but his tough cough clears it.

Blue flashes to my waist and back to the floor but the frown on his eyebrows is making things difficult to read. It would actually be a very nice compliment- the best kind of compliment to pay to a girl like me really…if he would actually look at me.

I lean on my hip a little, checking myself out with a grin, the flowered sleeve on my right arm looping comfortably just above my elbow where my hair waves.

'Is that a compliment or an insult?' I test. Edward is raising an eyebrow at him as he flounders a little more, the colour glowing against his collar.

'N-neither.' He squints and sighs lowly to himself. When he opens his glittering eyes again, his mouth is smiling and I can't help but match it.

'You look very classy.' He says eventually, his throat thick where he hasn't spoken a proper sentence in a while. Classy is a compliment I guess? It's just not the one I wanted. 'It's very becoming of you.'

Again….avoiding the urge to be offended. He's acting weird. I should probably try make him feel better, so I close some of the space between us and only look at him when I know he's looking at the floor.

'Oh, please shut-up.' Edward groans, hand to his face as I finally force a laugh from myself and lighten up on account of Edward finding it hilarious.

'It's still me.' I say, pointing out the height of my heels and coming to stand at his shoulder. With a sigh, he indicates going downstairs but I pull him back by his arm and, thanks to my new height, lean in closely to his back.

He laughs, first nervously and then properly. He lets Edward go downstairs first, letting the parents have a bit of a moment alone and stopping from me stepping ahead, he's still holding my hand. He's rubbing the other hand against his neck, as if to hide the sweating, eyes up to me, mouth parted.

'What's up?'

'You're beautiful, Esme.'

You've gone mad for the guy…you are mad for the guy… Why are hormones such a suck over?

The words sound even nicer when I haven't just imagined them. But I give him my sweetest smile without even meaning to. It just takes my face unexpectedly to the point where part of me almost feels…shy.

'You too, Carlisle.'

I mean it. But I don't just I mean it for tonight… I mean it for the mornings when he has bed hair, for the unshaven face, for the tired eyes and the scraped knuckles and the tender smile and the grins and the sharp suits and the shoulders and the combed hair and-and… I need to stop before I really do say something insane.

'Honestly.' He whispers, playing a tune on my fingers. 'You take my breath away.'

'Hmm, perhaps I shouldn't dress so mature in the future. I don't want you killing over.'

'I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry, I just realised I wasn't saying anything in this massive silence and Edward was staring and I panicked and just started making observations.'

'You're adorable.' I say laughing, nuzzling his cheek while he's postponing going downstairs.

'I'm an idiot.' He confesses, eyes sparkling. 'Hence stupid comments out of stupid mouths. You're beautiful. Your dress is beautiful. So is your hair and your shoes and-'

'There's a thing known as going overboard, too.' I remind him, my coloured lips parting to smile. 'But you're very sweet.'

'I'm sorry. I'll be fine in a minute. I'm just-…' he puts his hands towards his head and puffs out his cheeks playfully before dropping it and smiling. My heart is melting.

'Well did you want to her something which might make you feel better?'

'Absolutely.'

'The reason my tits look so good in this dress is because tape is holding them up.'

'Really?' He questions, his usual warm smile finding comfort in resting on his face.

'Take a look at them if you don't believe me.'

'I-'

'Are you guys ready, yet? I want a photo!' Liz calls from downstairs. Carlisle winces playfully, breathing through his nose and tightening his grip on my hand, indicating the steps.

Elizabeth gasps like we're teenagers off to a prom, kisses Carlisle fiercely on the cheek and drags him to stand next to Edward. The kid winks at him when he thinks I'm not looking and smiles crookedly at me.

'Don't you all look marvellous?'

'Please just take the picture.' Edward mutters, ignoring the snickers from senior who is fussing with his bow-tie. 'I don't even understand why we're dressing before dinner anyway. One of us is guaranteed to make a mess.'

'My bets are on you.' I tease. Carlisle chuckles, stepping to my right to pose for the first of many flashing cameras in our eyes. Nevertheless, I snake my arms around the boys, prepared for the light when he jumps, holding a hand to pause us.

'Your earrings.' He explains, patting his pockets and pulling out the little box. Grateful, I take it, eye the beautiful jewels and fix them into my ears so that they dangle close to my neck, their colours shining.

'Do they look okay?' I whisper to him knowing that only he is watching.

He smiles, eyes cast down the side he nibbled on so lovingly and nods his head, gently, his smirk easing up into a genuine smile.

'Eyes up, Carlisle.' Elizabeth mutters and he blushes so hard that he can't help but cover his face while Edward and I laugh a little more. She shows us the photos, my favourite obviously being the one where we're laughing, and squeezes her husband's hand.

After wasting her phone's memory on our faces, she soon leaves to check on dinner. Thus encouraging Carlisle to show me the rooms we missed earlier which means the library and a large sitting room full of tonnes and tonnes of records from like the 1700s.

I'm fingering the bookshelves, all old leather bound bibles, pulling off a line of dust on the edge of my finger, regretting it when I have nowhere to wipe it off. I click my tongue at him and show him the dirtied digit. He smiles and seats himself on one of the chairs, back standing stiff against the leather and working himself up again. Overthinking in that blonde big-headed brain of his.

The furniture is antique looking and smells so but it doesn't stop it from being any less striking. It's an architect's dream, an interior designer's wish and an artist's desire. So I'm pretty much liquid joy right now.

His eyes turn towards me, watching as I walk towards him, the hem of my dress clinging to my calves when I dramatically swing my thighs a little wider. It catches his attention just enough that he looks at me from head to toe with a smile. Unfortunately he's still pretty uptight. His hands are still fiddling with anything it touches so he almost leaps out of his seat when I place a hand on his shoulder.

'You're going to be fine.' I say, pinching the muscle slightly and becoming over selfish in the feel of his blazer under my hands.

'I know.'

He leans back into the chair and tilts his head in order to stare upwards at my throat. So I sway backwards a little and angle my head so the classic waves of my hair tickles his neck. It's a very intimate and it's not until I'm halfway through doing it that I realise what I'm doing.

The little tiny Alice in the back of my brain can fuck off, this is basically just physiotherapy.

'There's nothing to be nervous about. You know your speech inside out, the unit has already been paid for, Doctor Maddison is going to be here...'

'Exactly. My employer and my father. It's like asking for a disaster.'

Without even meaning to direct it, my hand on his shoulder gropes the muscle a little harder and I follow the line of it to the bottom of his neck against his shirt collar back to the joint of his arm, kneading his skin through the material of his jacket.

I don't want to be touching the jacket, I want to be touching the pale skin of his body all over mine in every way possible.

He exhales and closes his eyes, leaning just enough that I can use to shorter ends of my hair to wisp gently against his lower mouth. He smiles from the sensitivity and bites his lip with sharp white teeth.

'Your attempt to calm me is only making me more nervous.' He confesses, guiltily. The blue orbs shine in my own so I can see my own reflection. It doesn't look like my reflection. It looks like a fucking hot badass seducing her way into his pants. Or maybe his arms. Whichever he's willing to open.

'Sorry,' I whisper, letting my hand pull to a stop before it slips off his jacket.

He continues to look up at me, stalling me with a smirk on his face. 'You didn't have to stop.' He says slowly.

'Carlisle?'

We both jump back at the speed of light, me barely catching my balance on this tiny little stiletto of glitter and his whole face draining in colour. Why is it every time I'm with this guy I lose myself to my surroundings?!

'Hi.' Despite his causality, it's not said in the most welcoming manner but I have to tell myself that it's nerves, not because Carlisle is psyching himself up for war.

The stranger looks worse in the flesh than on TV. He's older, and probably looks older than he is but has a dark head of thick black hair and a stern, unfriendly smile. Almost nothing like my pearly saint here. He's dressed in black apart from that little vicar's collar he wears and looks at his son with such a fierce judgement that despite having no clue what Carlisle's done yet, I know it's wrong.

I was wrong before. They don't have similar heights, Carlisle is taller and their eye colour is different with my Saint's a midnight ocean blue and his father's an eerily light. The only similarity there is between the two is the tension and the pale complexion but even that's pushing it since he was in the garden all day. All my hard work at cracking a smile, lost in an instant.

'Typical you're in here. Are you well, my Son?'

Admittedly, I was expecting the older Cullen to be a lot ruder considering his words earlier so the fact that he's being polite is rather uncomfortable. It's also weird how much emphasis he pours on calling him 'my son' and every time it hits Carlisle like a stab in the heart. They make an awkward meeting. The Saint hanging back slightly while his father is eager to embrace him until they come to a tough handshake. Very tough, it's unwelcoming. And he jumps back from it immediately to stand ever so slightly infront of me.

'This is my good friend, Esme Platt. Es, this is Eustace Cullen.'

'Father Eustace. Full names, my Son.'

Weird.

He's already criticising his son's familiarity with my name- so thank fuck we jumped away quick enough to miss where my mouth was heading.

Carlisle locks his jaw. But I hold my hand out and shake the extended wrinkled hand, trying not to look disgusted when he raises my knuckles to his lips and kisses them. I'll say this, they have very different mouths as well. That's not inappropriate is it? Either way my good friend stiffens to marble

'Often dress as so, Miss Platt?'

What?

I offer a tentative smile and steal my hand back, unable to avoid checking myself over. I thought it was pretty? I thought it was classy?! Perhaps it is too much? Oh my fuck it's been three minutes and I've fucked up so bad I want to puke. Maybe Carlisle will give me his jacket if I ask?

'You've just stepped through the door.' Cullen growls, already seeing red and not just in my choice of clothes nor his tie.

'Simply acknowledging the obvious.' He replies, turning back to me. 'Red suits your complexion.'

This is weird so I self-consciously fiddle with my hair to hide my cleavage.

'Carlisle picked it out.' I blurt out and then fucking pulverise myself over when he flinches like I've pulsed electricity through him.

'Did he now?' He questions, staring threateningly.

'The Masen's will be wondering where we are.' Carlisle murmurs, looking briefly at me before eliciting a further distance when he encourages me to make my way accordingly.

As we're walking, Eustace throws a thick hand right onto Carlisle's shoulder and he flinches so hard I think he's going to faint. 'Do not forget your place, my son.'

It's been two minutes and already my stomach is sick in knots.