I spend the week unpacking, baking, and catching up with everyone. Since Alice couldn't make it the day I came home, she took me out yesterday to Port Angeles for a little shopping. While she bought clothes, I bought books. I read a little of everything, but since my dream was becoming a criminal investigator with the FBI, my favorite genre is usually investigative thrillers. I love a good serial killer story, which is probably odd, but I can't help myself.

The mind of a criminal always fascinated me.

But now that dream will probably never come true. Maybe if I get a heart, I can become a cop like Jasper, but that's a pretty big maybe. Still, a girl can hope. But for now, I'm content with baking.

I stopped by Sweet Treats on Thursday, and Ms. Sue was happy to take me on. I start Monday at four in the morning and work until ten, which I think I can handle for three days a week. My sleep is pretty shitty, so I'm usually awake between four and five anyway, and since the bakery is only five minutes away, it's not like I need an hour to get ready. Ms. Sue did say she would understand if I needed a day off or to leave early because she's honestly the sweetest woman in the world.

She lives on the reservation at La Push but has owned the shop for a good thirty something years. Dad and I used to go a lot because he'd usually spend most of his mornings before work having coffee with her late husband, Harry. I tagged along, usually getting a muffin or bagel before school.

"Bells!" Emmett yells from downstairs. "You about ready?"

I close my book and throw on a hoodie, telling him that I'm on my way. I tie my hair into a messy bun as I walk down the stairs to find him waiting.

"You're in a hurry for steaks," I say, laughing as he holds up the bag with the fudge and cupcakes I made for the cookout at Carlisle's today. This time, he did remember to thaw the hamburger and other meat.

"Damn straight; I'm starving. You good to go?"

I nod, heading toward the door in front of him. "Are we taking the Porsche?" I ask with a hopefully grin.

"Sure thing, but you still can't drive it," he says with a laugh.

Well, fuck. Someday, I'm going to break him.

The drive is pleasant, and Emmett isn't too upset over me taking on a job. He made me swear to come home if I ever felt like I couldn't handle it, which I promised I would. His biggest takeaway was that it's only five minutes from Forks Community, so Carlisle would be near if anything happens.

When we get to Carlisle and Esme's, I see the normal cars but also a different Ford pickup truck. Emmett parks and carries my bag inside as I follow behind him. Everyone is out back, but I make a stop in the kitchen to put my treats in the fridge. Esme even made room for them.

I walk toward the back door and instantly spot the bronze hair. My eyes bulge as my heart skips about twenty beats.

What is Dr. Lumberjack doing here?


Thanks to May, Nole, Fran, Brier, and Meg for prereading and Sally for Beta'ing.