Fifty-Seven
E
Our week-long vacation is over far too quickly if you ask me. Before we know it, we're back in Seattle and the real world is looming. Rebar is still under construction and won't be ready to reopen until sometime next week, so my fiancée, that's going to take some getting used to, is making sure to keep me busy. Right now I'm sure she's trying to give me a heart attack.
"I think we should call in reinforcements."
Bella hitches up her pants by the belt loops and shakes her head. "I'm sure we can handle it."
I watch her gather supplies. A staple gun, hammer, and a couple boxes of lights. It's not until she readies herself to climb the twelve-foot ladder leaning against the side of the house that I argue.
"Baby, please. Let me call Jasper or Ben ..."
"Edward, calm down. Just because you're afraid of heights doesn't mean everyone else is. I've got this."
My face flushes with embarrassment, but I know she has a point. "Fine. But be careful. If you fall and break your neck—"
"You won't be able to marry me, and I won't be able to give you five children," she says sarcastically, rolling her eyes for good measure.
My thumb toys with the ring she slipped on my finger on her birthday. I'm not used to wearing jewelry, so the silver tungsten carbide and whiskey barrel oak band weighs heavy. It's not uncomfortable, just unfamiliar.
We haven't talked about logistics, like the when, where, or how yet, but ever since our joint proposal, we've been making light of our future.
The whole five children thing started on the trip back home. I passed two minivans, both loaded down with kids, on two separate occasions, and Bella joked that it was a sign. That we're destined to end up with a minivan of our own, and she googled, and it turns out you can safely fit five car seats.
"Get your head out of the clouds and come anchor this ladder for me."
I don't think I take one full breath while she teeters on the top step and staples the strands of colorful lights we had delivered to the house. Bella works quickly, and it only takes about an hour to get everything hung, but by the time she finally deems the job done, my nerves are beyond shot.
"See, that wasn't so bad." She laughs when her feet are safely on the ground.
I give a weak chuckle. "Let's stick to the lawn stuff for a bit. That or I'm going to need to take an aspirin."
Bella calls me dramatic and argues that the blow-up decorations can wait and that she wants to string the lights on the shrubs first.
The shrubs in front of the windows are taller than me and will also require a ladder. We bicker until I realize her lips are starting to turn blue.
"I can do the shrubs, and you can start on the lawn ornaments."
"Nope." I snatch the boxes out of her ice cold hands. "We need to take a break before you freeze to death."
"But."
"But nothing. We have plenty of time to finish this up. You're going to catch a cold." I kiss her red nose. "So, let's go inside. I'll make you a warm drink, start a fire, and maybe cuddle you a bunch."
Bella sighs and steps into my arms. "That does sound good. You win. Let's go."
While she takes a much-needed shower, I turn on the fireplace and gather the ingredients for my special white hot chocolate.
I wait for the pot to start simmering and place a hand full of peppermints in a plastic baggie so I can crush them with a rolling pin.
"Hmm. Smells good in here." Bella hums as she enters the kitchen, wearing the Grinch pajamas her parents got her for her birthday.
She looks utterly ridiculous in the bright green one piece, but at least, she's warm.
"White hot chocolate?"
"With whipped cream and peppermint garnish. Do you want yours spiked?" I ask, holding up a bottle of spiced rum.
"Yes, please, and make it a strong one. Wanna watch a movie with me?"
I tell her to go pick something while I finish our drinks, making sure hers is strong like she asked.
Keeping up with the Christmas theme and her pajama set, Bella chooses the live action How The Grinch Stole Christmas. We gather a couple throws and hunker down on the couch with our hot chocolate, a new package of Oreos, and the rest of the bottle of rum.
"This is nice." Bella hums. Her cheeks are flushed from the alcohol, and she's unzipped the front of her onesie.
Thankfully, she's wearing a tank top underneath. I'm still having trouble keeping my hands to myself. It's her fault. She's freshly showered, hair still damp and hanging loosely down her back. She used her birthday present from Rose and smells like chocolate truffles. So incredibly edible.
How the fuck am I supposed to concentrate on the children's movie when she's sitting there like that?
Twenty minutes later, things are hard. The hot chocolate is long gone, so we've started passing the bottle of rum back and forth. I've got a good buzz going on and Bella ...
Bella is a handsy drunk.
She's trying to play it innocent, but I can tell it's an act.
It starts out with her lowering her zipper a bit farther, revealing the fact that she's wearing Christmas-themed underwear. They're red, and there's a bow. Then she fans her flaming face. "Phew, can we turn down the fire, please? I'm boiling."
I adjust myself and dim the fire before grabbing us a couple Cokes and bottles of water. Bella decides she isn't done with the rum yet and uses her soda as a chaser.
"Are you trying to get obliterated? It's not even four." I chuckle. "At this rate, you're not going to make it to dinner."
She shrugs and sets the bottle on the table. "Technically, we're still on vacation. I haven't let loose in ages." She settles in next to me with a happy sigh. "Now that I think about it. We've never gotten drunk together."
I nuzzle her neck. "I'm not much of a drinker. A few beers here and there. A nice buzz maybe. But if you wanna do shots, I'm game."
"Really?"
"Yeah, baby. We can celebrate our engagement." I kiss the ring on her finger. "And you can see how horrible I am when I'm hungover."
Bella looks up with a smile. "Is it bad?"
"Just be prepared to take care of my sorry ass tomorrow," I warn.
She takes that as a challenge and tells me to order enough pizza to last us through the night and tomorrow because, according to her, cold pizza is a hangover necessity.
While I place the order, Bella gathers supplies. Another bottle of rum, plenty of Cokes, shot glasses and cups, along with a bucket of ice and paper towels.
"So, we won't have to get up for anything," she explains, setting the coffee table up.
"You're kind of scaring me with all this, you know."
She smiles a toothy grin and waves her phone in my face. "I found a Grinch-themed drinking game. You should be afraid."
I gulp, and she just laughs and pours us a couple rum and Cokes.
While we wait for the pizza to get here, she explains some of the rules of the game, and I just know that tomorrow is going to be rough.
We spend our afternoon eating and getting shit faced. At some point, Bella loses her onesie, and I get to unwrap her like a present. And by unwrap, I mean I tear her panties off her body, earning a squeal and a slap because she just bought them.
What followed must have been some kinky rough sex because I wake up on the living room floor, hungover as hell, and covered in rug burn.
A cheerful Bella joins me with a tray full of cold pizza, black coffee, and ice water. She's only wearing the shirt I had on last night and is sporting her fair share of rug burn, mostly on her knees, elbows, and shoulder.
"Good morning, handsome," she greets, shaking a bottle of painkillers. "How are you feeling?"
"Sore," I croak, cradling my pounding head. "Like death. How are you functioning?"
"Oh, I never get a hangover from rum. Vodka on the other hand. Nope." She drops a kiss on my forehead. "Don't worry, baby. I'll take good care of you."
I try to sit up, but my stomach rolls, so I decide against it. Even though I need to piss and even though I know throwing up will make me feel better.
Bella makes me take some Advil and coaxes me into drinking an entire bottle of water. She's patient and caring, helping me shower and get into bed.
"Thank you." I groan around a piece of crust.
"In sickness and in health, baby."