Title: Neapolitan

Summary: He was the beautiful blond-haired stranger from the bar, and she was the pretty brunette barmaid who couldn't resist him. Together, they burned. Apart, they were cold. As cold as the ice cream trickling over the fingers of a little boy with strawberry hair. There are a million different flavors of ice cream out there worth trying, or maybe just one; Neapolitan.

Pairing: Carlisle x Bella

Rating: M

Word count: 11,881

Disclaimer: Twilight and its inclusive material is copyright to Stephenie Meyer. Original creation, including but not limited to plot and characters, is copyright to the respective authors of each story. No copyright infringement is intended.

August 27th 2011

"Excuse me! Excuse me, Sir! You've left your…huh. All right then."

Bella picked up the wallet, looking up just in time to see the back of its owner as he left the bar. It had been a busy night, so she hadn't even gotten a good look at his face. If he came back looking, it was pretty likely she wouldn't recognize him at all.

"Hey Bells, what'cha got there?"

"Wallet. Some guy left it behind. I'll put it in the lost and found before I lock up."

Jake grinned from behind the bar, his eyes half-lidded. He looked exhausted. Bella remembered the days of being up all night, changing diapers with your eyes closed and realizing the next morning you'd put the dirty diaper in your washing hamper instead of the trash, and putting your clothes on backwards for important job interviews.

Or maybe that's just me, who knows.

"Jake, go home, man. You look beat. Get some sleep and cuddle your wife, or something."

"Nah, it's okay, Bells. I can't leave you to do all this." Jake gestured round at the glasses littering, well…every surface, pretty much. There was a sizeable spill on the dance floor that'd need mopping, and some drunkard had knocked over an olive jar, the smell of the brine they'd been floating in still clinging to the air. It would take Bella hours to get everything cleaned up by himself, but to be fair, Jake didn't look like he'd be a whole lot of help.

He was dead on his feet.

Bringing the forgotten wallet with her, Bella made her way back round the bar, taking the glass and towel from Jake's hand – he'd been drying the same glass for almost ten minutes, by then – and set them down on the bar, ushering him towards the stairs to the apartment above. "Go home, Jacob Black. Rebecca would love to see you, and you need the sleep."

He gave her a sleepy smile, black eyes bloodshot. "Thanks, Bells. You're the best."

"Mmhm, and you're slurring. Get lost, JB."

"I'll give you that promotion soon, Bells. Night."

"Yeah, yeah."

Bella loved her job at Jake's bar, but it wasn't exactly helping her pay off any of her crippling student loans. Everyone encouraged kids to go to college, but it seemed nobody wanted to help pay off the debts it engendered. At eighteen, Bella had planned to own her own business one day. At twenty-four, she was nowhere near, working five nights a week at JBs, the other two at a grill down the street. Jake promised her a promotion every six months or so, but since his son JB Junior had been born nine months ago and staged a war against his parents sleeping, he'd been a walking zombie and Bella had taken up the slack for him.

Which was great…until it meant she was up 'til two a.m. serving, with at least two more hours of cleaning to do. And she had a brunch tomorrow. Bella's Mom would kill her if she cancelled again.

Maybe I could get Edward to tell her…

It was an idea to ponder, while she battled with the broken mop handle and attempted to cleanse JBs of the suspicious spillage on the dance floor seeping ever-closer to the speakers.

In her three years working there, Bella had managed to talk Jake into various purchases for JBs. Her favorite? The jukebox in the corner. Flicking the switch at the back, she picked a few songs to get started with, heading off in search of the cleaning supplies.

Laden with a mop, bucket, and a boatload of self-professed singing talent, Bella got to work with the floor, vowing to never allow Jake to accept two hen parties in the same night again. It was feather-boa-sporting, glitter-shedding, drink-throwing Hell.

So lost in her duet with Johnny Cash was she, that Bella didn't notice the click of the doors opening forty minutes later, or the soft clearing of a throat until it was repeated.

"Holyshitonacracker!" She gasped, spinning round.

So, something about Bella you should know…she was clumsy. Almost morbidly so.

With that in mind, it was no surprise to Bella when her food caught a wet patch and her flailing legs sent her crashing to the floor, taking the mop bucket with her.

"Ow," Bella groaned, grimacing at the feel of dirty cocktail-floor water seeping into her t-shirt and jeans.

"I am so sorry! I was trying not to make you jump. Obviously failed there, Cullen. Well done."

Despite her predicament, Bella couldn't help but snort in amusement at the guy mumbling to himself. She peered up at him, now crouching over her prone form, and tried – failing miserably – to hide the crimson flush spreading over her entire face.

He was beautiful.

Like, not in the womanly way. But he had the most artfully designed face she'd ever seen. A strong, angular jaw, covered with a healthy growth of dark blond scruff and a pair of oh-so-kissable lips – currently pursed in a wince. His nose was annoyingly straight, settled between a pair of piercing gray-blue eyes, and a thick set of brows groomed to perfection.

Dammit, why do guys always have better brows than me? Bella wondered idly, torn between wanting to smack this guy, and wanting to kiss him stupid.

"Miss? Are you okay? Did you hit your head?"

And he's got a gorgeous voice, to boot. Fuck a duck.

"I'm good!" She chimed, faux-cheerfully. "Sorry, let me just—"

In hindsight, attempting to push herself up on the wet wood was a dumb idea. Brain scrambled by the stranger's closeness, it didn't alert her to this notion until she was already careening back towards the floor; this time, taking said stranger with her. They landed amidst the puddle of mop water in a tangle of limbs, emitting a series of grunted curses.

"Oh, Jesus, Mary, and Joseph," Bella whined.

"I'm so, so sorry. God, I knew I should've just left it 'til tomorrow. It's not like I need my wallet tonight, anyway."

A lightbulb went on.

"Ah, so you're the guy in the booth. Your wallet's behind the bar."

The guy grinned up, looking all kinds of messy beneath her. He'd turned their bodies as they crashed down, so she was sort of sprawled half over his body, half in the filthy water. With just her sodden navy JBs t-shirt and his dark green knit sweater between them, she could feel the ridges of his chest muscles under her, and the way his heart raced beneath her palm. His hair was a dark honey blond, and though it looked relatively neat, it was half a riotous mess, flat on one side, sticking up on the other.

"All right, seeing as I'm on top of you already, introductions. Bella Swan, Finder Of Wallet."

He chuckled, the sound making Bella's stomach twist pleasantly. "Carlisle Cullen, Loser Of Wallet. And apparently, Menace To Pretty Bartenders. Did you hurt yourself?"

"No, I'm fine." Way better than fine, you beautiful human being. "All right, lemme up." With Carlisle carefully anchoring her, she managed to stand. Once he was standing, too, having managed to get up far more gracefully than Bella had, they smiled at one another.

"So, wallet. Let me grab it for you." Bella darted around the bar before she could throw herself on the floor again, pulling the wallet from the lost and found box with a flourish. "Ta dah!"

Carlisle smiled, the grin bookended by a pair of dimples. "Thank you, Bella. I didn't realize I'd left it behind until I was almost home. I thought you'd have shut up shop by now."

Bella shook her head, handing over the wallet after flicking it open to match his face to the image on the driver's license inside.

"I actually forgot to lock the doors. Jake would kill me."

As she made her way along the bar, collecting glasses to be cleaned, she caught the rise of Carlisle's brow. "Jake…your boyfriend? I wouldn't be so lucky to find a woman as pretty as you, and have her be single."

Hm…is the handsome stranger flirting? Me thinks so.

"Jake…the owner," she laughed, gesturing at the JB above the bar. "I always forget to lock the doors, and he's always telling me that one day some weirdo will wander in off the street." Bella cocked her head, smirking teasingly. "Are you a weirdo?"

Carlisle held his hands up in surrender. "Not as far as I know. I mean, I occasionally dip my fries in my milkshake at McDonalds, but that's the right thing to do, according to my niece and nephews."

The image of Carlisle, fancy pants Carlisle in his sweater and dress pants in a downtown bar, eating McDonalds fries dipped in milkshake had Bella giggling. He looked the sort to be dining in posh restaurants, not a cheap – but delicious – fast food chain.

"So, er, you want some help? I mean, I'm a little weird, but I can clean."

Bella laughed aloud. "You're gonna clean…in that?" She pointed to his clothes, which probably cost more than her entire wardrobe at home, belatedly noticing that they were sorta ruined already. Filthy mop water will do that to cashmere sweaters, she guessed.

"I'm already dirty now, may as well help. Besides, it was my fault the water was spilled. If I hadn't made you jump, you probably wouldn't have knocked it over."

Taking a moment to consider how her cop father would feel about her casually allowing a complete stranger in, albeit an exceedingly handsome one whose face she maybe sorta wanted to sit on, Bella finally nodded. Charlie would berate her endlessly, but he didn't need to know. "Sure. Uh, I'll get you a fresh shirt or something. I'm sure we've got some in the back."

As Bella darted towards Jake's office, she felt the distinct warmth of eyes on her back. Turning slightly, she smirked at the sight of Carlisle's gaze firmly planted on her butt. These were her favorite jeans for the pure fact that they made her ass look amazing; she was glad he'd noticed. Adding a little sway to the final few steps before she reached the office, Bella did an internal fist-pump at the quiet, but audible, groan behind her.

"I'm sure we've got some, somewhere…aha!"

When Jake ordered the latest batch of JBs tees, he'd been sleep-deprived and had way overordered. Bearing in mind there were only three members of staff, they definitely didn't need thirty t-shirts. Luckily, Jake was around the same size as Carlisle, so she quickly yanked her drenched top over her head, released her bun so her brown curls hung over her shoulders, and tugged on a new t-shirt before snagging one for Carlisle, re-joining him back out by the bar. She paused to admire the sight.

He'd removed his sweater, and was using the splash of water left in the mop bucket to clean up as much as possible in just a pale gray beater. With every movement, his muscles tensed and released. Bella wiped her mouth to make sure no drool escaped at the sight of his defined biceps and shoulders, a telltale tightening in her belly making her sensible side throw up warning flags and 'Caution' signs. A big red light flashed bright in her mind, sirens wailing.

"You can just do that without a shirt, if you want. I won't complain, just saying."

Okay, warning aborted.

Carlisle turned his head, surprise lighting his eyes and shaping his mouth in an adorable 'O' Bella wanted to fill with her tongue.

Sheesh, when did you get so whorey?

Shutthefuckup, sensibleness.

Bella snapped herself out of her internal battle with her conscience, finding that the voice of sensibility sounded remarkably similar to her mother.

"Uh…ditto?"

Bella followed his gaze down, grinning when she realized what he was looking at. She'd rolled her top op on the way out, twisting it just below her bra, leaving her midriff bare down to her hips, where the waistband of her jeans rested. "Sorry. It's kinda hot in here. You mind?"

Carlisle gulped visibly, shaking his head. "No. No complaints here. None at all."

"Alrighty then." Bella clapped, making Carlisle jump. She delighted in how distracted he seemed to be by her skin. "Shall we get started?"

"Sure."

By the time Bella had refilled the bucket and returned to the bar, Carlisle had made short work of most of the glasses on the bar, just leaving the ones on the tables to be loaded into the dishwasher. Bella shot him a grateful smile, having secretly always hated cleaning the glasses the most. He set to work on the rest while she mopped the dance floor, deciding on a whim to go ahead and do the rest while she was at it. Couldn't hurt, and her flailing had spread it around anyways.

"I love this song." Carlisle eventually murmured. Bella would've liked to say she'd forgotten he was there, but it was impossible to do so when all she could see was his God-like torso flexing with each and every movement. So far, she'd mopped the same patch of floor three times, each time getting distracted by him and forgetting whether she'd done it or not.

The song finally registered, a grin spreading across Bella's face. "You do, huh?"

Carlisle hummed, continuing his ministrations on the glass he was drying. In and out his hand went, then just a finger as he scratched at a mark to see if it was a break or something the washer had missed.

Bella had never wanted to be a champagne flute so badly in her life.

"It's my favorite," she admitted in lieu of jumping on him.

He glanced up with a small, crooked half-smile. "Yeah? Johnny Cash? You've got good taste."

"Mmhm."

Finally done with the floor, or at least giving up on it for the time being, Bella wheeled the bucket towards the back room, returning to the bar just as Carlisle set down the last glass.

"All done."

Looking round, Bella found herself a little disappointed when she realized he was right. They'd finished what would've taken her two hours alone, in a little under an hour. Bella was big enough to admit that she wished she'd dawdled more. He'd have stayed longer then, but he was already reaching for his wallet, tucking it into his back pocket.

"You want a drink? On the house, for your help!" She blurted, not wanting him to leave just yet.

He offered her a head-tilt. "You sure?"

"Yep! What's your poison?"

"Jack and coke. On the rocks, please."

Bella grinned, getting to work and gesturing for him to take a seat. He walked round the bar, perching on a stool. His eyes followed her as she pulled down a bottle of Jack Daniels, then removed a fresh bottle of coke from the fridge under the bar. She set it down in front of him a minute later with a murmured, "ta dah," making him chuckle quietly.

"Thank you, Bella."

"No problem. Thank you for helping."

"Are you not having one?"

Bella cast a look at the clock, wincing. 3:35a.m. "Ah, fuck it. Why not?" She poured a duplicate of Carlisle's drink, slinging herself easily up onto the bar in a maneuver she was desperate not to fuck up in front of Carlisle. He watched with wide eyes. Eyes which, Bella was excited to see, were darkening to midnight blue as they roamed over her legs, bare stomach, and up to her tits. The t-shirt she'd chosen was purposefully a size too small, showcasing her girls perfectly. Judging by the way Carlisle shifted on his stool, widening the gap between his legs slightly, he thought they looked pretty darn perfect.

Well done, ladies, Bella thought with glee.

"So, Jake's not your boyfriend. Could I be so lucky as to assume that there isn't one?"

Bella smirked, raising her eyebrows. "Why, Mr. Cullen…are you flirting?"

Instead of being embarrassed, Carlisle simply grinned, a wicked sparkle to his gaze. Bella came to the sudden realization that her pretty, new lace panties probably weren't going to make it.

Ah well, never mind.

"Maybe I am. Would that be okay?"

"Well…" Bella pretended to think about it. She loved the way it made Carlisle frown, his eyes narrowed, lips pursed, long fingers tapping the glass in his hand. She wanted those fingers on her.

Or in me, whatever. I'm not greedy. Okay, so maybe I am.

Electricity hummed in the air between them, warmth radiating from Carlisle's knee where it touched Bella's calf hanging over the bar. Even through their trousers, she could feel him. Feel the vibrations skittering from his body into hers. It felt as though somebody had plugged her into a power point, energy thrumming through her veins, jump-starting her heart as he let his free hand glide up, from the top of her foot encased in her old Chucks, over her shin, her knee where he paused to draw circles which made her shiver. Finally, he stopped at her thigh, lazily squeezing. She shook, desperate for his hand to climb higher, to the point between her thighs where she burned for him. Where she ached for his fingers, or those kissable lips.

"Bella?"

"Hm?" Drunk on the feeling of his hand on her, Bella managed to blink and meet his eyes.

She noticed the heat within them just a second before he changed his hold from gentle to firm, giving her one quick tug to yank her from the bar onto his lap. She straddled him on the stool, squealing quietly when it rocked twice before settling. Bella had barely a second to orient herself before he stole the breath from her lungs, his lips crashing roughly against hers. She hesitated very briefly before responding in kind, clutching his strong shoulders as she eagerly welcomed his tongue into her mouth, their kiss all heat, fire, and passion.

He tasted of whisky, but also sweet like coke, and vaguely minty, like he'd had a fresh-mint or smoked a menthol before returning to the bar. His thighs were solid beneath her, chest firm against hers as she pulled herself as close as possible, nipping at his lower lip.

Bella all-but melted into a puddle at the groan he emitted when her teeth clamped down gently.

It was pure need, and set her on fire. If Bella hadn't already, she knew for sure then that she'd be throwing these panties away. They were soaked, and she wouldn't have been surprised if he'd soon be able to feel her wetness on his thigh.

"Bella…fuck…"

"Yes and please," she whispered against his jaw, unable to resist biting it just a little.

He didn't seem to mind.

"Fuck yes." He grunted, thrusting upwards. It changed their angle, bringing his hard length into direct contact with her wet heat. She whined, pressing down into him with a soft sigh of relief at the pressure.

Fucker ain't small.

"Bella, sweetheart," Carlisle gritted out through his teeth, moving his hands to squeeze her ass, hard. "If you want me to stop—"

"Don't you fucking dare, Cullen. I live nearby, we can go—"

"No. We're not going anywhere. I saw you here first, I want to fuck you here."

Bella wasn't sure whether to smack him for being bossy, or kiss him for it.

She settled for darting down to suck his neck hard enough to leave a mark.

Carlisle managed to stand, hoisting Bella so that she could wind her legs around his waist, crossing them over his ass as he carried her to the nearest booth.

The booth he'd been sitting in earlier, where he'd left his wallet.

Drunk on this man, this wickedly, sinfully beautiful man, Bella didn't feel even a hint of her usual nerves as she tugged her t-shirt over her head and unbuttoned her jeans, watching him remove his beater and reach for his own pants. Morbid curiosity made her pause, her tongue darting out to lick her lips when he unfastened his dress pants and revealed the straining bulge barely being held within his black briefs.

"Oh, fuck, love. You have no idea what you're doing to me, do you?" He grunted, eyes fixated on her tongue.

"Ditto, handsome. Here." Feeling an uncharacteristic bolt of confidence, Bella kept her gaze firmly on Carlisle's face as she reached for his hand, pulling it down and pushing his fingers inside her undone jeans. As soon as his fingertips found her hot, wet clit, she shuddered, and Carlisle transformed. He went from almost angelic, with his light hair and eyes, to sin incarnate.

His hair a wild, blond mess atop his head, face a mask of want, Bella felt herself grow impossibly more turned on. She'd never felt like this before. She'd never seen so much need in a man's face, never known a man to want her as much as Carlisle apparently did.

And there was no hiding how much he wanted her.

Not when she was sitting on the edge of the booth bench, her face waist-high to Carlisle, standing as he was. His dick jutted out in its fabric prison, pointing towards her. Bella peered up at him through her lashes, letting her tongue peek out once more. As the tip of it brushed the end of Carlisle's dick, she watched his body ripple in a shudder. His brows drew closer, a stifled growl reverberating in his chest.

She felt powerful. In charge. It was a heady sensation.

Slowly, so that he could stop her if he wished, Bella gently removed him from his boxers, shoving them down with his jeans and barely waiting for him to kick them off before sucking him into her mouth, all the way to the base.

Praise Jesus for no gag reflex!

"Oh, mother of—Bella!"

His hands flew to the back of her head, immediately relocating to her shoulders. She reached up and placed them back on her hair, humming in approval when he tentatively wound his fingers into her dark locks. He groaned, long and low, then again when she let her tongue join in the action, licking first up one side of his rigid length, then the other, ending with a quick suckle on his tip. He bucked his hips towards her, muttering curses under his breath.

"Carlisle?"

"Yeah?" He panted, looking down at her through half-lidded eyes.

Here goes nothing. "Fuck me?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

Before Bella could utter another word, he'd pulled her pants down – panties included – and tossed them away with her Chucks after a brief battle with the laces. Her bra was next to go, then Carlisle paused to take her in, spread out before him. His eyes roamed from her hair fanned out beneath her head, over her perfectly perky tits, an exact handful when he reached out to cup them, down to her pussy. She wasn't completely bare, he was happy to notice, though she was neat and had a thin, short landing strip. He was all for women grooming, but he wasn't a fan of bare. He wanted a woman, not a girl.

Unable to stop himself, Carlisle let his fingers trail down over the strip of hair, grinning when she jerked as he reached her clit. It was hot and swollen, ripe and ready for his tongue. He bent slowly, so that she'd be able to stop him; though he prayed she wouldn't. Bella didn't, and she let loose a keening cry of pleasure and dug her head back into the leather seat when his tongue made one long swipe over her from entrance to clit, then back again. He moved over her body, kissing his way from aching core to kiss-swollen lips. She bit at him again, so deliciously greedy for him, swallowing his grunt when the tip of his cock pressed against her entrance. She was burning, and already felt so good.

Carlisle forced himself to slow down, resting his weight on one arm while brushing a lock of hair from Bella's cheek. She nipped his lips, whining in frustration when he refused to move his hips even when she wound her legs round his waist, tugging at him as hard as she could.

"Hey, wait a second. Let me look at you."

Bella sobered a little, reaching up to twine her fingers in his hair. He hummed, leaning down to press feather-light kisses against her lips, chuckling when she tugged his hair in an attempt to get him to kiss her harder. "Kiss me, dammit."

"I am," he mumbled against her lips, moving from one corner, to the other.

"God, you're an asshole." Before Carlisle could protest, she'd reached down with one hand and was stroking his dick in an agonizingly provocative way. He grunted into her mouth, finally giving up the act of patience, and thrusted into her in one deliciously slow, but hard, movement.

She cried out, gripping his back and raking her nails from shoulder-blade to the top of his ass. Carlisle hadn't realized how much he'd like that until she did it, the sting making him thrust back in twice as hard, his zealousness moving them further up the seat. Bella cried out again, but begged for 'more, harder' between 'fuck yeses.'

Some obscure rock band wailed in the background as Bella and Carlisle crashed together. Over and over again, their bodies came together and separated, their orgasms coiling and tightening in tandem. She clamped her walls around his dick, smiling at the groan it pulled from him. He snaked a hand beneath her head, cradling her neck and using it as leverage to pump into her harder. The other hand crept down to her hip, clasping hard enough that she flexed but moved into him, loving it all, wanting more, more, more.

She wanted it all. Everything he had to give, this perfect stranger with the silky voice and to-die-for-cock.

And die she might.

As her orgasm barreled towards her, Bella wondered if her heart was going to burst out of her chest. It sure felt like it. Carlisle grunted, his movements becoming jerkier, less coordinated. His brows furrowed, eyes almost pitch black. It was clear he was close. Bella reached behind his head, scratching her nails lightly over the back of his neck and down his spine, digging them in harder at the base of his back. She grinned with glee when he threw his head back and pounded into her harder, faster, gripping her tighter.

"Bella…I'm close, sweetheart."

Unable to lean up, with him holding the back of her neck, Bella tugged his head closer, raking her teeth gently over his lower lip before sucking it into her mouth to soothe the sting. "Come for me, handsome. I want to feel you."

"Oh, fuck."

Hearing him swear in that refined voice, silky smooth but somehow rough at the same time, tipped Bella over the edge. She reached down, rubbing her clit in three, tight little circles before falling, spiraling into the depths of a world-shaking orgasm.

Her pussy walls tightened around Carlisle's cock, the blissful look on her face tugging him over the cliff edge right alongside her. He felt the orgasm tighten in his balls first, then shoot up through his body before flying straight back down to his dick. As the first rope of come shot into her, he muffled his shout into Bella's tits, thrusting erratically until he was empty and spent, trying to hold himself up so he didn't squash Bella while struggling with even the most basic of human functions; like breathing, or keeping his heart from beating clean out of his chest.

"I should go…" He mumbled against her chest a few minutes later, once the panting had subsided, and he could see more than just pinpricks of light.

"Nah. Stay. Stay right here." Bella shuffled around, tugging Carlisle with her by his hair. He wound up against the back of the booth, Bella tucked into him with her chest to his, their arms resting around each other's waists, one of Carlisle's pillowed beneath her head. She settled perfectly against him, snuggling right in with a satisfied, sleepy hum. Glancing up at his face once more, Bella smiled. He grinned back down at her, all post-orgasmic relaxation. "Night, handsome."

"Night, beautiful," he murmured, kissing her forehead and attempting to get comfy on the sweat-slicked leather.

Within minutes, she was fast asleep, breathing quietly against his chest with a smile still on her red, swollen lips.

When she woke the next morning, too-hot and feeling a distinct ache between her legs that meant she'd been thoroughly fucked, Bella already knew what she'd find.

A tidy bar, her clothes spread across the floor where they'd been thrown without care, and herself, all alone.

~ oOo ~

Six weeks later

"Fuckity, fuck, fuckeration."

"Bells! You gonna be much longer?"

Swallowing back bile, Bella flushed the toilet and rose from her knees, shoving the trash in her hand into the bin in the corner. "Coming, Dad! One sec."

Charlie kissed her head on his way past, slamming the door shut behind him, leaving Bella alone in the hall.

Well, not completely alone. She wouldn't be totally by herself for another, oh…eight months or so.

Ducking into the room she'd been inhabiting since her dick of a landlord decided to kick her out three weeks ago, with only two weeks notice, Bella huffed and sat heavily on her bed. She stared down at the white stick in her lap.

Whose dumb idea was it to use a positive sign on these things? Bella felt anything but positive. Her stomach churned, and she knew better now than to brush it off as a dodgy kebab like she had been the past two days.

"What the Hell am I gonna do?" She whined, throwing herself backwards. It didn't do her jumbled tummy any good, and she was quickly wishing her dad would hurry up in the bathroom before she was forced to use her brother's sixth grade science fair trophy to throw up in.

Even though all she wanted to do was crawl back into bed and wallow in self-pity for the rest of her life, Bella dragged herself back into the bathroom once Charlie had left for work, forced herself to take a shower and apply some make-up, and then pulled on a hoodie and jeans before riding the bus to JBs.

It was Rebecca's birthday, so Jake had taken her and JB Junior to visit her family a few hours away. Bella had agreed to look after the bar for the long weekend, not realizing that the dates coincided with the dates Rachel – the other bartender – had already booked off. It hadn't been an issue before, bearing in mind there was nothing major going on, but in light of Bella's recent realization, she absolutely didn't want to be back at the scene of the crime.

However, she didn't have a choice, so she let herself into the bar and set about making a start on the paperwork, studiously ignoring the third booth, and the way it made her feel simultaneously turned on and sick to remember what had happened there.

~ oOo ~

Hours later, the weekday regulars were pretty much all present, Bella comfortably busy behind the bar. Some college football game played on the ancient TV screen on the far wall, but she only managed to catch a few plays here and there between serving customers.

"You want another, Ricky?"

The toothless old man grinned, revealing his gums as he slid his glass a few feet along the bar to Bella. "Please, young lady."

"It's Bella, Ricky," she laughed, topping his glass up with his usual. The rich bourbon smell made her stomach clench, but she brushed it off and set a bowl of peanuts in front of him alongside his drink, leaving him with a parting wink as she made a run to the kitchen for fresh glasses.

It had been a relatively easy day, despite her earlier worries, and she'd managed to keep her mind preoccupied for most of it with a steady stream of patrons and a seemingly never-ending pile of paperwork. Jake had been the recipient of a few choice words when Bella realized just how badly he'd neglected the office in recent weeks, but he'd simply responded with a heart and a promise of a promotion.

"Yeah, right," Bella thought, shaking her head as she carried a tray of clean glasses and a plate of salt and vinegar chips back to the bar from the kitchen. With everything she'd been up to, she'd forgotten to feed herself, and was suddenly ravenous.

As soon as she stepped through the kitchen doors into the space behind the bar, she felt him.

The heat of his eyes was palpable right away, an electric tingle spreading across her entire body. Bella sucked in a breath and gazed around the room, finally finding him sitting down across from her.

In the booth. Their booth.

She set down the tray of glasses with shaky hands, the chips following suit. Abruptly feeling rather green, Bella used the bar for support, forcing her eyes away from the man boring holes into her face with his own gaze.

Fuckity fuck fuck. He looks gorgeous. Even hotter than before. What the Hell am I going to do?

This time, Carlisle had come dressed in a plaid shirt in various shades of blue, and a pair of dark-wash jeans. He sported a white pair of Converse that perfectly matched the ones on her own feet, and his hair was gelled back, but not in the creepy old guy way. It was actually, unexpectedly, hot.

Even as she served a couple new customers and tried to make herself appear busy, Bella couldn't stop her eyes from drifting to Carlisle. He seemed to be having the same issue. His scrutiny burned, setting her skin on fire, creating a fever she already knew only he could break. And all the while, her stomach twisted and flip-flopped, reminding her exactly why she had to avoid him at all costs and remain on the right side of the bar.

Hey, it can only happen once. Can't hurt to do it again for memory's sake.

"Urgh, shutthefuckup!" Bella whined quietly at her subconscious, spinning with a yelp at the following chuckle.

"You talking to yourself, beautiful Bella?"

Fuck me. Please and thank you.

"No. Maybe. Okay, yes."

Carlisle laughed again, leaning on the bar with his elbows. It brought him closer to her, twinkling blue eyes so very happy.

To see me? Bella wondered, trying not to fall into their depths.

"I've missed you, you know." He said. Conversationally, as if that was the sort of thing he told her all the time. Except, he didn't, because the one and only time they'd seen each other, he'd fucked her and ducked her, all within a couple of hours. Oh, and then never bothered to come back. Until now, anyway.

"Yeah?" Remembering how he'd done a disappearing act on her, Bella felt the anger she'd woken with those six weeks ago returning with a vengeance. Blank stare firmly in place, she picked back up where she'd left off, slicing a lemon right in front of him. He winced when her knife hit the chopping board the first time, with far more force than strictly necessary.

"Yes." He frowned. "Bella, are you okay?"

"Mmhm, fine."

"The usual, please, Bells!"

Carlisle turned his head towards the voice from the other end of the bar at the same time as Bella. She grinned, tucking the knife and board beneath the counter before all-but skipping round, bypassing Carlisle entirely to leap straight into the arms of a behemoth man a few stools away. He laughed, spinning her a few times. Bella felt Carlisle's glare on her back, but it was easy to ignore when she felt the repercussions of being spun beginning to rise up her esophagus.

"Put me down, you big oaf! Edward, put me down!" She slapped at his arms, leaning towards his face with her tongue outstretched in warning.

He chortled and set her on her feet instantly, hands lifting in surrender. "All right, all right. Sheesh, killer. Chill out."

Bella smiled, though she felt decidedly sick, and vaulted back over the bar, praying she wouldn't actually puke. So far, the sickness portion of the day was limited to the morning, but Bella wasn't counting on her luck lasting. "The usual, yeah?"

"Please. Just three of us today, though."

"I'll be right over. Go sit. Chips?"

"Stupid question."

She grinned at Edward's back as he moved to the table below the TV where his buddies were already waiting, then set to work on their drinks. They always ordered the same – Coronas with a wedge of lemon in the bottleneck. She'd done it one day as an experiment, and they'd loved it, ordering the same every game night. 'Tradition', Edward said when she railed on him for it.

"Have I done something to upset you, Bella?"

She cast a look over her shoulder, cursing herself for feeling bad for putting the confused, sad look on Carlisle's face. His mouth was pursed, eyes narrowed, brows furrowed. The happy blue from minutes before had faded to bemused gray, and she felt like shit for it.

"Nope," she lied, popping the 'p.' "I'll be right with you, Sir."

His eyes followed her to Edward, Riley, and Marcus, so she made sure to add a little extra badonkadonk to her hips as she walked.

For the next two hours, he sat at the bar, nursing the one and only drink he ordered, watching her.

Watching her serve customers, clean glasses, tidy up tables…whatever she did, he watched, a pensive look on his bastard face. Bella grew more and more frustrated with him. For being there, for not saying anything, for driving her batshit crazy by doing nothing but gazing at her.

Bella would have found it creepy if it weren't for the soft glint in his eyes, the way his lips lifted slightly in the corner of her eye whenever she smiled at Old Man Ricky, or the protective scowl on his face when a newbie customer got a little handsy while she picked up glasses.

Edward had made it to her first, one eye always on her, and she was glad.

Closing time finally arrived, all-but one leaving. Carlisle remained.

"What are you doing? I need to lock up," she snapped, frustrated and tired and so damn confused about what she was going to do.

"Talk to me."

"No."

Carlisle smirked. "You sound like my niece. Petulant."

"And you sound like my grandfather. Irritating. Now go, please."

The smirk fell, replaced by determination. Bella stepped away from him as he slid from the stool, stalking her backwards until she could go no further. Her spine pressed against the door, her hands flat against the wood at her sides. She breathed deeply, catching a faint trace of his aftershave. She remembered it. Woodsy, spicy, with a hint of citrus. She liked it.

The shirt from that night had smelled of him for days. Bella had worn it to bed every night until the scent had evaporated.

"What…" she gulped. "What are you doing?"

He was inches away, then centimeters. Bella inhaled a deep breath, shuddering when it made her nipples brush his chest through the thin material of their t-shirts.

"Please, talk to me."

"I don't want to."

"Hm." Carlisle cocked his head, reaching up to curl a lock of her hair around his pinky finger. She shivered, tipping her head up to stare at him defiantly. He smiled, the lazy grin at odds with the tense atmosphere wrapping itself around them. The air between their bodies crackled with electricity, Bella's skin humming in reaction to his proximity. She felt her heart racing, the familiar heat starting between her legs just like it did whenever she looked at him, the booth they'd desecrated, or the t-shirt she'd worn in the minutes leading up to said desecration.

"You're mad at me, but I don't know why, and you won't talk to me." He surmised correctly.

"Glad you got it. Well done. Now just go—"

Bella's words were cut off suddenly, Carlisle dipping down to suck her lower lip between his teeth for a gentle nip. She moaned, and would have collapsed if he hadn't wound his arms around her lower back as her legs wobbled and all-but gave out. Using his body to press her into the door, Carlisle kneaded her lower back before running one of his hands up her spine, tickling the spot at the base of her neck before winding his fingers through her wild curls. She'd left her hair down today, not wanting to deal with taming it after her shower this morning. His other hand slid down to cup her ass possessively, using the hold to grind her pussy against the hard bulge in his jeans.

She let loose a long, low groan, rocking against him and welcoming his tongue into her mouth despite knowing she should be pushing him away, if touching him at all. She reached up to tug at his honey blond mane, delighting in the whimper it drew from him, the instinctive buck of his hips that made her cry out.

"So good. So, so good," Bella chanted, panting and bumping her head against the door at her back when he used his nose to tip it backwards, wanting access to her neck. Carlisle laid a trail of soft, warm kisses to her collarbone, neck, and the spot below her ear. She whined, both in deliriousness at the sensation and at the realization she was going to lose yet another pair of panties.

The ones she was wearing were sodden already.

It all moved quickly after that.

Carlisle's hands were everywhere at once, his mouth trailing close behind. Soon, Bella was sans hoodie and jeans, panting and writhing against the door as he pinned her there with his hips, suckling on one nipple while rolling the other between his thumb and forefinger. The maddening pressure of his rigid dick against her center turned Bella into a wanton, begging mess. She pleaded with words and her hands for him to give in and give her what she wanted. He ignored her, and slid two fingers through the wetness coating her clit before slipping them into her entrance and thrusting sharply upwards.

"Oh fuck!"

What is he doing to me?

"Making you come. Is that okay?"

"Shit. I didn't mean to…oh, God, Carlisle…didn't mean to say that out l-loud."

He grinned salaciously, pumping his fingers slowly, eyes dark like the night as he watched her spiral towards her orgasm at warp speed. They reminded her of an inky night sky, a few specks of gray within them almost looking like stars.

As she barreled towards her release, Carlisle managed to shove his jeans down with his free hand and not drop her. Bella barely had time to complain that he was removing his fingers from her pussy before they were replaced by his cock, hard and perfect and hitting that spot with every thrust until she fell apart in his arms, scratching the shit out of his back and screaming out his name.

He followed a few thrusts later, grunting and breathing heavily against Bella's neck as he delivered his last, hard thrust, their bodies banging against the door.

It only took a minute or so for Bella's orgasmic haze to fade, real life hitting her square in the gut. Well, real life and the results of their first tryst.

"Oh God…"

"I know, that was amazi—"

"Get off. Let me down, let me down, let me down!" Carlisle shifted backwards in confusion, letting her drop her feet to the floor and slip out from beneath his arm. She darted across the bar, the door to the ladies' bathroom slamming shut with a thump behind her. Carlisle frowned, suddenly petrified he'd hurt her. He hadn't been thinking clearly when he backed her into the door, he'd just been so desperate for her. But she'd been so mad, and he hadn't known what to do with himself.

Bella was adorable when she was mad. Utterly kitten-like, she reminded him of his niece's Burmese cat, Princess. She was a horrible, vicious thing – until Vera was around. She turned into a big softy the second she appeared, scooping the big furball into her arms. Carlisle always avoided her like the plague whenever he visited his brother and sister-in-law.

The muffed sound of a toilet flushing sparked Carlisle into action. He pulled on his jeans, and was halfway through buttoning his shirt when the door creaked open.

"Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

Bella's eyes darted up from the floor, her steps stalling. She looked surprised to see him. "You…you didn't leave."

Carlisle frowned. "No." Should I have?

Something like anger flashed across her face before a distinct paleness stole it away, and she snatched her t-shirt up from the floor where he'd tossed it. As she tugged the fabric over her head, he heard her mumble, "makes a change." Suddenly, the reason for her anger clicked. Shame washed over Carlisle's face as he halted his movements and crossed the room. When Bella's head popped through the hole of her t-shirt, he was standing in front of her. She gasped.

"I'm sorry for leaving. I had to pick my niece and nephews up from my sister-in-law at six, but they live a half hour cab ride from here, and I had to stop for clothes on my way. You looked so peaceful, and I didn't want to wake you."

Bella glowered, though the spark had dimmed in her chocolate brown eyes. She just looked plain weary. "Why didn't you leave a note, or something?"

"I couldn't find anything to write on. I figured I'd just come back when Rose picked the kids, but you were shut, and I've been away. I only got back this afternoon, and I came straight here to see my favorite girl, only to find that she's pretty damn pissed at me."

The anger seemed to leech from Bella's eyes, defeat replacing it. Carlisle watched her hunt down her panties, balling them up and shoving them in her pocket once she'd tugged her jeans back up her delectable legs. She couldn't seem to meet his gaze, and he allowed her some space for five minutes while he hunted down his socks and shoes, and finishing buttoning his shirt. She was behind the bar by then, wiping it down with a frown on her face and the occasional muttered curse.

"Bella…I'm sorry. Can you forgive me?"

Bella looked up, the despair in her eyes breaking Carlisle's heart. He thought himself a nice man, one of the good guys. He'd never want to hurt a woman, let alone this one, who'd weaseled her way under his skin the second he'd laid eyes on her when he first stepped into JBs, expecting a quiet drink, but getting so much more.

"Hey, what's the matter?" He was filled with horror when fat tears began tumbling over her cheeks, splashing the counter she'd just wiped. Carlisle felt a tug on his heart and moved to make his way behind the bar to join her. She fought his embrace for barely a second before succumbing to the comfort he offered freely, winding his long arms around her and lifting her against him. Her feet dangled until she wound them around the backs of his legs, locking her ankles behind his knees as he held her to his chest, pressing a trio of soft kisses to the side of her head.

"It's okay. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I thought you'd be here the next day, but it was my fuck up."

"I'm not crying because of that, stupid."

Bella felt a lump in the back of her throat, her now-emptied stomach aching from its self-imposed expulsion. She'd managed to keep that little white stick from her mind all day, apart from the odd thought here and there, even when Carlisle arrived. The smiley face hadn't sunken in yet, its real meaning not settling in her mind until she felt Carlisle cradle her to him, until she realized that if she waited any longer to tell him, he'd think she was lying or pulling a fast one. Bella felt so stupid, so naïve, to have not even thought of protection.

Hadn't her mother always preached about keeping her own stash of condoms, 'just in case?'

And she did. Yet they hadn't crossed her mind, not once, and now she was going to pay for it. She was going to lose her job and the respect of her family and friends.

And Carlisle…he wouldn't stick around. Not for an easy lay who'd gotten herself in a sticky situation.

With a pang of abject misery, Bella pulled her head back to peer up at Carlisle. Beautiful, kind Carlisle with the smooth voice and body of a God. She realized belatedly that she knew nothing else about him. His age, job, where he was from. Nothing.

Maybe it was better that way. There was less to miss if she knew nothing but his voice and his body.

"Then why are you crying?" He asked, obviously confused, but smiling slightly as he brushed his nose along the apple of her cheek and pressed a kiss below her eye.

Bella swallowed hard. "I'm crying because I'm pregnant, Carlisle. And you're the father."

Goodbye, Carlisle.

~ oOo ~

Five years later – September 5th 2016

"C'mon, buddy! We're gonna be late for your first day of preschool!"

"Comin', Mama! Wait a sec!"

Bella rolled her eyes, shoving a sandwich box emblazoned with the Paw Patrol gang into the matching lunchbox, double-checking for the bottle before zipping it all up and tucking it into the red backpack on the table. "At least you're ready, Dakota."

Dakota stared long and hard at her before wagging his tail, offering her a soft boof, and trotting out the open back door to take care of business. Bella laughed, watching her spotty Dalmatian dog go, only turning when she heard the sound of elephant footsteps in the hall.

Well, maybe not elephant footsteps, but they sure sounded like it. No, they were the heavy footfalls of her son.

"Masen Anthony Swan-Cullen, what on Earth are you wearing?"

He grinned his toothy smile, his daddy's crooked, double-dimpled smile, and looked down at himself. "S'this not okay?"

"No, buddy," she laughed. "It's great, but maybe not for preschool, huh?"

He frowned. "Why?"

"Well, for one, those are swim-shorts."

"Oh." Masen considered his red and yellow board shorts for a second, then nodded. "Okay. For two?"

"For two, smartass," Bella scooped her boy into her arms, lifting him to her face so she could blow loud raspberries on his belly. He giggled and cried out, squirming so hard that she had to put him back on his own two feet before she dropped him. "For two, I spent ages picking out a great outfit for you to wear today. So go put it on, please. I'll grab Dakota and then we can go, all right?"

He huffed, looking every bit his mother's son as he brushed his mussed hair from his face and rolled his eyes. "A'right, Mama. Chucks though, yeah?"

"Yeah, baby. You can wear your Chucks."

The grin was back. "'Kay." He darted off, back towards his room. She'd called Dakota in and leashed him up by the time Masen returned, this time dressed in her pre-approved outfit of khaki cargo pants and a blue checked shirt. His black Converse were in place on his feet. "Mama, laces."

She cocked her brow at him.

"Please, Mama!"

"That's better."

As she made him sit and knelt to tie his laces, Bella peered at Masen, taking advantage of his preoccupation with the buttons on his shirt – he hated anything 'posh'. So basically, anything that wasn't a t-shirt and board shorts. His hair was on the longer side, but he'd refused a haircut, and claimed to like the rusty blond mane he was sporting. To be fair, he did look incredibly cute, but Bella was kinda biased. She thought he looked gorgeous with drool on his face and pillow lines in his cheeks, so…

Anyway, with his shirt, cargo pants, and Converse, he looked far older than his tender four years. Bella's heart ached for her baby, the sweet, gummy baby she'd loved more than anything in the whole world from the moment the nurse had placed him on her chest after twenty-eight hours of grueling labor.

"Mama?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"Is Lissy gonna be there? At preschool?"

Bella grinned, ruffling her boy's hair before planting a kiss atop his mop. "Yeah, Lissy will be there. Auntie Becky, JBJ, and Lissy are gonna meet us outside, remember?"

Masen's face brightened, and he hopped up to follow her to the door, where she shouldered his backpack, grabbed Dakota's leash, and ushered her boys down the steps once she was sure she hadn't forgotten anything. As far as first days went, it was going pretty well so far.

Reaching the shitty VW her dad had helped her buy when Masen was born, Bella and Masen paused to honor tradition. As she lifted him into his seat in the back, they growled at one another and shared an Eskimo kiss, Masen giggling when she nipped gently at the tip of his sweet button nose. "Mama, don't eat my nose! I gotta keep it."

Bella pretended to be affronted as she buckled him in and attached Dakota to his car harness, so he wouldn't fly around on each corner. He hated riding in the back, but he'd gotten in the annoying habit of sticking his head out her window, instead of the perfectly good one on the passenger side, so he'd been relegated to the back where he couldn't stick his fat head in front of her face while she tried to drive. Bella adored her dog as though he was another child, but smart he was not.

"But it's so tasty!"

"Well you shoulda eated your breakfast, Mama. This nose is all mine." Masen grinned triumphantly, always happy when he got to use her words against her. In this case, the breakfast lecture she so often had to give him when he whined about being hungry an hour after she threw his half-finished breakfast away.

"Mmhm, I'll remember that tomorrow."

"Good. Now c'mon, I wanna see my friends!"

Laughing, Bella closed the door and walked around the car to climb in. They set off with an unhealthy wheeze that made her wince. It wouldn't be long before it needed replacing, and she had no idea what to do when that happened. God knows she couldn't afford a new car on just the money from JBs, and the idea of picking up more hours at the grill made Bella feel sick.

It's that or ride the bus with Masen every morning…

"Mase, buddy, remind me to call Laura later, okay?"

"Okay, Mama," Masen agreed, licking his finger to 'write' the reminder on the window beside him.

Bella shook her head in amusement, grinning at her baby in the rear-view mirror.

"Mama?"

"Yeah, my little chicken nugget?"

He snorted, rolling his eyes. "I'm 'cited to see Daddy."

Bella's heart fell to her feet. "Baby…" she began softly, always hating this part. Always hating Carlisle just a little bit more with every lie he made her tell their son. "Daddy might not be here, okay? You know work needs him a whole lot. There are sick people that need him to help them feel better."

It killed her to see Masen's smile fall with each word she spoke, but it would be worse if he got all the way to preschool and didn't see Carlisle there if he was expecting him.

The rest of the ride was silent, even Dakota acting uncharacteristically calm. When they pulled up outside the preschool, Bella inhaled a deep breath and forced cheer into her tone as she announced that they'd arrived. Masen managed a weak smile, and to Bella's relief, it did widen when he spotted Rebecca, JB Junior, and his bestie, Lissy, waving crazily at him from a few cars over. Dakota was content to wait in the back of the car with his head hanging out of the window while Bella ran Masen in, the Blacks at their side.

Rebecca frowned when she spotted Masen's unusually sullen face as he peered at every man in sight, his mood only darkening when none of them were the man he was looking for. "What's up with Masen?" She mouthed, clenching her jaw and nodding once when Bella silently replied, "Carlisle."

Rebecca had done all this with her son a year before, so she went in ahead with Lissy to speak to the teacher, Miss Kate, leaving Bella and Masen in the hall outside his new classroom. They'd been to orientation a week ago, and he'd loved the colorful room. He couldn't wait to start preschool – it was all he'd gone on about for the past five weeks. And yet, standing right outside, he looked like somebody had taken away his beloved board short collection for good.

"Baby, you know Daddy would be here if he could, right?"

Masen shrugged, kicking at the carpet beneath his shoes. It killed Bella inside to see him so upset, so heartbroken.

Fucking Cullen. I'll swear to God I'm going to kill that motherfucking—

"Oh thank God, there you are." Speaking of the devil.

"Daddy!" Masen's face lit up the instant Carlisle appeared, flying away from Bella to throw himself into his arms. Carlisle spun him in wide circles, almost wiping out two women walking by with their kids. Bella recognized them as fellow preschool-moms, and offered them smiles. Not that they noticed. They were too busy ogling Dr. Cullen, complete with lab coat and stethoscope hanging round his neck.

"I'm sorry I'm late, Masen. I got here as quickly as I could."

"Tha's okay, Daddy. You're in time. Mama says you got lots of people to fix."

Carlisle grinned, that bastard smile doing all sorts of crazy things to Bella's stomach. It killed her, but still, after five years, he turned her to mush with just a flash of a dimple, or a softly murmured 'love you' to their son. She hated him and loved him in equal measure, and it was torture to see him with Masen. They were so similar, and yet so different.

For a start, Masen wasn't a never-ending let-down.

"See you later, Daddy. Love you. Love you, Mama! Don't forget to pick me up. Oh, and call Laura at the grill!"

Just like that, her whirlwind was gone, darting into his new classroom without a care in the world. He kissed her cheek quickly on his way past, tugging the backpack from her shoulder and charging towards the seat he'd been shown at orientation.

So, that was that. Bella had a preschooler. And she wasn't sure how to feel about that.

"So, how're you doing?"

Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on your take, she knew exactly how she felt about her preschooler's father.

"Don't, 'how're you doing', me. You were late. Again."

Carlisle reached up to tug at his hair, a habit he'd passed onto Masen. It drove Bella crazy when her son did it. It drove her crazy when Carlisle did it, too, but in a completely different way.

She let loose a long, low groan, rocking against him and welcoming his tongue into her mouth despite knowing she should be pushing him away, if touching him at all. She reached up to tug at his honey blond mane, delighting in the whimper it drew from him, the instinctive buck of his hips that made her cry out.

"Bella? I said I'm sorry, okay. I got here as quickly as I could. I couldn't exactly leave a woman on the operating table—"

"Save it, okay? I don't care. Save it for your son, who spent the entire car ride here crying for his daddy."

So I lied. Whatever. He deserves it.

As she spun and marched back towards the parking lot, she briefly caught the look of heartbreak on Carlisle's face, and regretted her words for maybe a second before reminding herself of all the times Masen had cried for Carlisle, and he hadn't been there because he was too busy at work, or with his girlfriend, or doing some other stupid thing that apparently was more important than his son.

"Bella, wait! Look, I didn't want this to happen today. Can we go somewhere? Get a coffee, have a chat? I want to talk to you about something."

Bella growled quietly, hanging her head with a hand on her car door. "When?"

"Now? I mean, I need to swing by the hospital and grab my bag. I forgot it when I was rushing here. I could come to yours? Half hour?"

"No. I'll come to yours. I'll drop Dakota at daycare and be there in half hour. If you're not there—"

"I'll be there. I promise."

I've heard that before.

"Fine." Slamming the door behind her, Bella refused to look at Carlisle until she was pulling out of the lot, watching him shake his head as he walked towards his own car. "How the Hell did we get here, Dakota?"

Dakota boofed softly, wagging his tail.

"Yeah, yeah, you big traitor. I know you like him."

After dropping Dakota at doggy daycare, Bella drove the long way to Carlisle's condo, wanting to be late but unable to let herself do it.

The neighborhood he'd chosen was pretentious and modern and everything Bella hated. She scowled as she pulled up behind his BMW, though her mood brightened ever so slightly when she didn't spot Boobs McGhee's red Mercedes in its usual spot.

He'd opened the door before she'd even ascended the steps, and had a bright, but careful, double-dimpled smile in place when she stepped inside. White. White everywhere. It was obvious no child lived there. Bella's house was constantly being repainted, the trademark trail of a little boy scattered on the walls and carpets of every room.

"Thank you for coming."

"Hmph." Real mature, Bella. Act like a parent, okay? Bella resisted the urge to yell out loud at her own subconscious, following Carlisle through to the kitchen. Black counters, black cupboards, black everything. Well, not everything. There were a few white accessories here and there. It was too modern. Too plain.

"Coffee?"

"Please. Milk, tw—"

"Milk, two sugars. I remember." Carlisle grinned. Bella wanted to smack it from his face.

Or kiss it, whatever.

When they both had a drink, they sat at the breakfast bar, silent. Bella was rigid, uncomfortable in the place she knew he shared with Boobs McGhee. He appeared relaxed at first glance, but Bella knew better. She knew his ticks, his giveaways.

"So, uh, I wanted to talk to you about Mase—"

"I figured."

Carlisle frowned. "Well, I wondered if you'd consider letting me have him this weekend. My parents are in town; we're having a big meal for Dad's birthday."

"Sure, that's fine. Masen will like that."

He looked surprised she'd accepted so easily. "You sure? I mean, obviously I'm pleased, I just thought…well, I know you like to go visit your family on the weekend."

"I've actually got a date this weekend, so it works well. I was going to see if he wanted to stay with Mom and Dad, but he'll like seeing Anthony and Elizabeth."

The dark glower that took over Carlisle's face made Bella's stomach twist pleasantly. She recognized it all too well. It was the same look he'd worn when he'd seen her with Edward the first time. And the second, and the third.

Actually, every time, until she'd informed him that Edward was her younger brother.

"A date."

"Yes, a date. A guy from work asked me out, and I said 'yes', so we're going on a date."

"I don't like it."

Bella's eyebrows crawled into her hairline as she stared at Carlisle, her hands tightening around the mug in her hands. "You don't…like it?" He shook his head. "Well boo-fucking-hoo! You get no say in what I do, who I date. Paul's a nice guy, and Masen likes him, so…" She trailed off, her heartrate spiking at the look in his eyes. It was almost predatory in its intensity.

"I broke up with Irina."

"And?"

"You told me to make up my mind. You said I had to decide what I want."

Bella had said those things. They'd argued two weeks ago when he'd cancelled his weekend with Masen because Boobs McGhee – aka Irina – had pitched a fit about having to cancel the weekend in Vegas she'd booked for them.

"Right. And you don't want Irina?"

Carlisle shook his head, sliding from the stool. He set his mug down on the counter, and leaned forwards to within an inch of Bella's face. She sucked in a breath, blinking slowly. His eyes…so pretty. Masen had the same gray-blue.

"I want you, Bella. I always have."

The intensity of his stare, the heat from his palms as he glided them over her thighs, squeezing just below the point where leg met groin. She felt a familiar tingle at her core, the same tingle she felt every time she looked at Carlisle. It didn't matter whether he was driving her crazy or being sweet as sugar with their boy, he never failed to set her on fire. It was a curse he seemed to harbor willingly.

"Carlisle…this isn't…we're not…"

"We should be. You and me, and our boy."

We should be. Bella agreed. She always had. But Carlisle had gotten with Boobs McGhee before Masen was born, and they'd stayed together throughout his residency and subsequent hiring at the local hospital, where he now practiced as a highly sought after orthopedic surgeon.

Bella had never stopped wanting Carlisle, and had finally admitted to her therapist when Masen was six-months-old that she was in love with him, despite knowing he was with Irina. She'd dated a little, fooled around with one or two guys, but she'd never felt intensity like she had those two times with Carlisle.

She'd never felt as though they were setting her on fire with their touch, their gaze. Even when she hated Carlisle for being late, she wanted to kiss him as soon as she saw him.

"You're shitty and you always turn up late…" she breathed, groaning when he reached out with his tongue to trace her jawline.

"I'll get a new alarm."

"You have shitty taste in girlfriends."

"I think I have pretty good taste, actually." Carlisle squeezed her thighs, to show he meant her.

She sighed, tipping her head to let him trail kisses down over her throat to her collarbone, where he nipped gently. "I've never been your girlfriend."

"Something I intent to make right, if you'll let me." He pulled away, fire dancing in his eyes as he held back to persuade Bella that what he said was true. He wanted her, all of her. "Please, Bella. I'm so done with pretending we aren't meant to be together. We'd be so amazing, if you'd just give us a chance."

Bella whined, but her traitor hands slid up into his hair to tug, hard. The strands were soft and silky, her fingers feeling right at home within them. "If you fuck up, even once…"

"I probably will, Bella, but I promise I'll do everything in my power to be the best man for you, the best dad for our little boy. I love you, Bella. I love you both. And I can't live without either of you, anymore. I've tried, and it doesn't work."

I've tried too. You're right.

Huffing, she dipped her head, letting her forehead rest against Carlisle's. "I love you. I've loved you for five years." It was the first time she'd allowed herself to say it since the therapy session. The relief she felt…it was instantaneous.

The hunger in Carlisle's eyes as he tipped her face back was unmistakable, and mirrored within her chocolate brown orbs as they stared into one another's souls.

"Be mine, Bella?" He growled, low and desperate.

Bella closed the gap between their faces, brushing their lips together once, twice, three times, before feeling a lone tear roll over her cheek. "I've been yours, Carlisle. For a long damn time."

He chuckled and cooped her from the stool, carrying her towards the stairs as her legs locked behind his back, arms winding around his neck. "Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea just how mine you're about to be."

Dark eyes glinting, pussy getting wetter by the second against Carlisle's dick already at half-mast, Bella nipped the exact spot on his neck that she'd marked all those years ago, when they found each other for the first time. "Bring it on, handsome. Bring it on."

~ oOo ~

Picking Masen up from school together, for the first time, was weird, but in an incredibly good way. Bella and Carlisle had hashed out their differences, their worries and fears, and decided to throw their lot in together. Carlisle was selling his condo and buying a small house in the same neighborhood as Bella's parents, where they would live together. The three of them, and Dakota.

They explained this to Masen, happy tears in both adults' eyes when he'd grinned ear-to-ear and told them he loved them both, but could he have ice cream now?

As they sat on a bench overlooking the beach, their hands joined behind Masen's back, a vanilla cone in Bella's hand, chocolate in Edward's, and a tri-colored cone in Masen's, he'd snickered to himself behind his free hand.

"What're you laughing at, buddy?" Carlisle had asked, looking at Bella with an amused, happier-than-ever sparkle in his beautiful blue eyes.

Masen looked between his parents. "Mama, Daddy, look! We're like my ice cream!"

Bella frowned, confused. "What do you mean, baby?"

Rolling his eyes at his parents' evident stupidity, Masen pointed at each of their heads in turn, then at his, before looking pointedly at his cone. He kicked his little legs in contentment, and offered both of his parents matching, double-dimpled grins. "You're chocolate, Daddy's vanilla, and I'm strawberry."

Brunette…Blonde…Rusty-blonde…I suppose it could be classed as strawberry-blond, Bella thought, finally coming around to his line of thinking. She smiled, squeezing Carlisle's hand as Masen sighed happily.

"We're Neapolitan, Mama, Daddy. Neapolitan is my favorite."

Looking between her two favorite men, Bella echoed her son's happy sigh, and blew Carlisle a kiss over Masen's head. "You know what, baby boy? Neapolitan is my favorite, too."