Emmett takes home the most money, but I'm a close second. Around ten, I say goodbye to the guys as they head out, but Edward lingers and helps me clean up for some reason. He's meticulous as he hand washes the dishes we used—even though I clearly have a dishwasher.

I open it for him, smirking. "Just load the dishes in here."

He shakes his head. "It's just a few more. So, how are you feeling?"

I start putting the plates in the cabinet. "Honestly? It hurts like fucking hell. Once you leave, I plan to take those wonderful opioids you gave me, run a bubble bath, and then crawl into bed with Ulysses."

"Stop helping me," he says, taking the plate from my hand. "Go sit down and rest. You know, you really should take a few days off."

"There's no such thing for me. This town needs me."

He rolls his eyes. "I'm sure it could survive a few days without you. When we got the call that the Chief was hurt, it worried me, Bella. You fucking worry me."

"I'm not your problem, Cullen."

"You come into my ER as a patient too often. The last chief just sat at his desk."

"And he left me with a mess. I'm hands on. And I don't come in that often. The last time was like six months ago."

"And you had a concussion after some dude beat the shit out of you."

"Why do you care?"

He cocks his brow. "Because you're my neighbor."

"We don't get along."

He shrugs. "We could change that. I know we got off on the wrong foot, and you think I'm some kind of manwhore, but I think if you got to know me, you wouldn't hate me. I'm rather charming actually."

I snort and my ribs ache. "You're an anal-retentive asshole. You leave notes on my garbage cans, notes about my bird feeders, notes about the general disarray of my house. You're that annoying neighbor."

"Because I appreciate when things are right? I'd hardly call that annoying."

"Well, it is. I think you'd die if you weren't correcting someone."

He rolls his eyes. "I'd live happily if nothing needed to be corrected, but that's not happening in this neighborhood. The HOA doesn't keep up with maintenance the way they should. Like I'm the last line of defense before this place falls into chaos."

"Because it's like sixty-percent old people who can't."

"Which is why I help them. I take out their trash, pay for their snow removal, and try to bring Mr. Anderson dinner every night I can since his wife passed."

I pause for a moment—unable to come up with a witty remark. I've always considered him a dick, but that's actually rather nice. Fuck.

"That's very kind of you."

He smirks. "So, I'm not a complete asshole, huh?"

"Still undecided."

He rolls his eyes. "I'll make you like me someday."

"Uh-huh, sure."

"Fine. Rivalry on. I'll just have to beat you in the bake off."

"I'm not only competing in the pie competition this year. I'm going for a clover. All four, bitch."

He put the last few dishes away and nods. "For the clover then. Best one wins all four. And if it's me, you have to admit you don't hate me."

I think on it for a second, and then agree and hold out my hand. "Best baker wins."

He shakes my hand with a grin.

Jesus Christ, this will be fun.

I don't own Twilight.

Thanks to Ashley, May, and Mary prereading and Sally for beta'ing.