I'm attempting to change my writing style a little bit and this chapter is a tester. Bear with me please guys, you're all so patient and I appreciate it! x

Chapter 21;

Bella's POV;

I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Now I know what you're all thinking; stop being so dramatic Bella, you have a wonderful boyfriend, two beautiful children and the aforementioned boyfriend rocks your world on a regular basis. And you'd be right to say those things, because my God are they accurate. Like wow, no words.

I honestly love my life in a way that I didn't know was possible for me. Don't get me wrong, Oliver is still the best thing that ever happened to me and the joy I feel when I look into his chocolate brown eyes or tickle his little toes to hear his cute little laugh, it's overwhelming. But I thought that was all I'd have – the never-ending support of my twin sister and the love of my child – and I'd resigned myself to that.

And then this beautiful, wonderful, amazing man came along and decided to slot me and my son into his heart, alongside the most incredible baby girl I have ever met and suddenly the opportunity to have more was in reach. So, I did what any sane woman would do and grabbed it with both hands, because I couldn't deny that Edward and his daughter had burrowed into my previously full heart and made space for themselves.

That's the only way to describe it – my love for my son and sister has not diminished at all, and yet this man and little girl have carved out a special place in my heart that is completely theirs and full to the brim with my love for them.

So why, I hear you wonder, why would this woman with a seemingly perfect life be waiting for the other shoe to drop? Has this seemingly perfect man with his perfect daughter given her reason to doubt his reliability, his sincerity, his love for her and her beautiful child?

The answer would be no. Edward has been nothing short of perfect. I appear to be freaking out over nothing. It just seems like things are too perfect if you get my gist. Things are going too well. In my experience things don't go this well.

Alright, I feel you rolling your eyes at me, but I have this feeling in my bones that something awful is going to happen.

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"Ugh okay, okay, I'm awake you little rascal." I turned my head towards Edward and opened one eye, chuckling when I saw Evie sat across his chest with her little hands tapping his face and sweet, soft giggles erupting from her mouth.

"It's wake up time Daddy! You said we're going to the beach today so it's time to get up up up!"

"Yeah Daddy, get up." I nudged Edwards muscular calf with my toes in a poor attempt to push him out of bed, screeching when his hand snaked down to tickle at it. I rolled away from his attack, almost knocking myself out on the bedside table in my haste to get away and scrambled from the bed, silently grateful that I'd put a long t-shirt and some knickers on after our midnight romp last night.

I 100% didn't ogle as Edward heaved himself out of bed wearing just a pair of tightly fitted black boxers, his arms stretched over his head, throwing the muscles in his back into stark relief and drawing my eye to the names of our children permanently etched into the tanned skin of his left arm.

Shut up.

I'm not staring, you are.

He scooped Evie up into his arms, pressing a kiss to her nose as he followed me into the nursery. I winced as I took in the state of the room that was spotless last night – Evie's lightweight bedspread strewn across the floor, drawers open with clothes scattered all over the place and Oliver stood in his crib, smiling widely while bouncing up and down on his chubby unsteady legs with the support of the bars, his nappy stripped off and resting face down on the carpet.

I turned my eyes to Edward, taking in his slack-jawed horror with slightly hysterical amusement. What in the hell has occurred in here? Bloody kids. I bit back an incredulous chuckle and started making my way over to the crib, pulling a pair of Evie's favourite blue leggings off the lamp and opening the curtains to let in more light into the room so the damage could be assessed properly.

Well first things first, a new nappy on Ollie before… I turned my head at Edwards agonised groan and watched as my son dropped the most explosive bomb in the history of baby shits right there in his crib, all over his new cowboy bedding and the lower half of his body.

Wonderful.

"Evelyn Grace, just what in the world has gone on in here. It's an absolute pigsty, and it wasn't like this when your Mother and I tucked you and your brother in last night, was it?" I turned my attention back to the crib with a grimace, leaning down to pick up the nappy from the carpet and yep, there's another shitty mess right there and I can't keep the sigh inside me.

"Edward can we talk about what happened later? Your son needs a bath and his crib and all the bedding needs to be destroyed. Preferably with fire."

"He's only 'my son' when he's had an explosive shite, when he's doing something sweet and intelligent he's 'our son.'" I ignored his griping with blatant amusement as I scrubbed the worst of the shit out of the carpet with a few baby wipes.

He lowered our little trouble maker to the ground with instructions to put all of her clothes back into the right drawers and then come to the bathroom to clean her teeth before he came over to me, his face twisted into a disgusted grimace.

"Will you get a bin bag and just throw all this bedding away? And see if the mattress can be saved. I'll go hose this one off in the sink and then get him in the bath." Edward nodded and pressed a chaste kiss to my lips before hurrying downstairs to get the bin bag.

I looked down at my giggling son and shook my head, a reluctant smile tugging at my lips.

"You're disgusting Oliver Ellis. Evie, don't forget to come to the bathroom when you're done Love, you need to have s bath too."

"Okay Mummy." I stifled my chuckle at her pout and reached down to grab my foul-smelling child, keeping him at arm's length as we walked to the bathroom, hoping his persistent leg bouncing wouldn't fling shit all over the rest of the house.

I couldn't help the giggle that escaped me as Edward came rushing back up the stairs, his hands encased in my pair of pink marigolds, a couple of bin bags in his arms and a washing up bowl filled with soapy water and a couple of sponges. I never thought I'd see the day that my leanly muscular 'macho' boyfriend would be running around our cottage in nothing but a pair of black boxers and pink rubber gloves.

He shot me an annoyed glare that was softened by the amused curve of his mouth and went to clean the mess our little shit factory had made in the nursery. I sat Ollie in the sink of the bathroom, grimacing at the state of the sink as he giggled and smeared his hands through the mess on his chubby thighs.

"Completely disgusting." I couldn't keep the fondness out of my voice if I tried.

.

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"Ace no! The sand isn't for eating son."

I watched bemusedly as Edward gently prised Oliver's hand open and brushed the clumps of sand from his little fingers. Evie was dozing in my lap, worn out from the warmth of the sun and paddling in the shallows. I carded my hand through her damp hair, gently teasing the tangles out of the blonde curls and pressing the occasional kiss to her head. She let out a content sigh and burrowed closer, snuggling against my chest.

"Maybe we should start heading back Love, the kids are shattered and I have sand in places that sand should never go."

Edward pouted at me, his hair – more auburn because of the sun – blowing in the salty breeze, his skin starting to tan a deep brown. Still pouting he scooped up Ollie, adjusting the sweet ball cap on our son's head as he stood and held a hand out to help me up. I gently urged Evie to wake up, setting her down on the sand and heaving myself out of the beach chair we'd rented. I tucked the blanket and beach bag under one arm and held the other out to Evie, who'd cuddled up to Edward's left leg, her arm wrapped securely round it.

We traipsed up to the boardwalk, before stopping at a bench to pull on sandals and brush off as much sand as possible. I won't lie, I absolutely hate the beach, mostly – completely – because I hate sand. It gets everywhere and it's a bastard to get out of shoes. I adjusted the thin, short, patterned beach dress that I'd slipped over my modest one piece and got the essentials out of the beach bag – the baby bag, mobile phones, wallets – before dumping it and the blanket into the boot of the car and hauling out the double pram.

Evie immediately started protesting loudly at the sight of it – 'I'm a big girl Mummy, buggy's are for babies.' – but quieted quickly after a sharp look from her father, climbing into her designated seat and taking her favourite teddy bear sadly. I shared a look with Edward and took over strapping Ollie in his seat so that he could crouch down and have a soft conversation with Evie, ending it with a kiss to her forehead.

We walked to a fish and chip shop on the pier and bagged a booth inside. Our waiter, a sweet teen with a kind smile and freckles on his nose immediately made heart eyes at Edward, much to by amusement. He was polite and exclaimed about how cute my children were so I decided that I liked him. He couldn't help that my boyfriend drew admiring glances from men and women, young and old, as easily as breathing.

Ollie managed to eat a few of the chips from my meal and Evie ate most of her kids battered sausage and chips before falling asleep tucked under her father's arm.

All in all, a pretty fantastic day at the beach.

The problems started when we got back to the cottage and a woman was waiting for us. I'd never seen her before. She had curly blonde hair, bright blue eyes and a tight smile. She was leaning against the front door, wearing a low cut black tank, sprayed on leather pants and the highest pair of black spiky stilettos I'd ever seen. Looking at them gave me blisters. We didn't notice her until we'd unloaded the kids, deciding to leave the beach stuff until after bath and bed time. Evie noticed her first, making a shy sound before burying her face in my neck, her usual hiding spot when meeting strangers.

Evie's reaction didn't faze me, Edward's however almost knocked me on my arse. He pulled Ollie tight to his chest, letting the baby slumber on with his head resting on Edward's broad shoulder and grasped my free hand tightly, eyes locked with the woman's.

"What are you doing here Tanya?"

Tanya. Why was that name familiar?

"I'm here for my daughter."

Bollocks.

Hey guys, new chapter. Hope you all love it!

As always, read, review and enjoy!x