A/N- Normal people split up chapters once they exceed a certain length. Lunatics keep right on going until the word count rises above 19,000. Guess which category I fall into.

Chapter 31- We've Only Just Begun

July 29, 2006

Oooooooooooooooooooo

I'm frozen to the seat of my chair, cold fear flowing through my veins. I keep a close eye on the strawberry blonde who volunteered to give me a wedding day manicure - the very same vampire seductress who leered at Edward last night and didn't care that his fiancée stood a foot away. The only conclusion I can draw is that she's here to eliminate her competition. Me. Honestly, it wouldn't be difficult to take me out of the picture. One poke from Tanya's pinkie finger into my chest and I would be a goner. Then, she would be free to give "comfort" to Edward after my funeral. Well...I hope she can wait that long. It would be tacky of her to proposition him while he's still weeping over my grave.

Seemingly unaware of my anxiety, Tanya takes a seat on the footstool Alice recently vacated. Without a word, she picks up a wooden tool and works to push back my cuticles. Her hands are solid and cool, like polished steel on a refrigerator door. My own hands are trembling - but it's definitely not from her low skin temperature.

Tanya glances up briefly, not pausing in her task. "Having a nice day?"

Yeah. Everything's going swell so far. I'm still breathing and in control of all my bodily functions. Peeing all over myself right now sure wouldn't help matters.

"It's been fine," I reply in a small voice.

"That's good."

Minutes of silence stretch by. I anticipate Tanya crushing my bones at any second, or maybe ripping a fingernail off to hint at her displeasure of not having Edward all to herself last night. But she doesn't hurt or maim me one bit. She handles my fingers carefully, working until the nails of both my left and right hands are ready to be polished.

With the job complete, her bright amber eyes meet my suspicious brown. A trace of a smile plays on her flawless, pink lips. "I'm sure you're wondering why I came up here today."

My lower jaw moves around, hesitating as I think of a safe way to respond. "It did cross my mind once or twice," I answer cautiously.

Tanya places the cuticle pusher on a side table and links her fingers together on her lap. "I wanted to talk to you. Alone."

"O-oh?" I stammer, my eyes darting around in search of a weapon. Then I recall that Tanya is invincible to everything but fire. So - unless Alice keeps a flamethrower up here in her bedroom closet - I'm screwed.

Tanya scoots the footstool closer by several inches. "Yes. I have a bit of a confession to make. I don't know how much the Cullens have told you about me, but I have sort of a problem. An addiction problem, I guess you could say. You see, Bella... I love men. And sex. Sometimes my craving for it makes me lose sight of what I should and shouldn't be doing." Her long hair bounces as she laughs. "Or maybe I should say WHO I shouldn't be doing."

I nod and smile weakly along with her, like I understand where she's coming from. Although inside my head, I'm screaming. Alice, stop worrying if you put enough ribbons on the wedding guests' chairs downstairs and get your butt back up here! The last thing I want to do is chat about Tanya's sex life.

One of her long legs crosses onto a knee. "I love how men make me feel when I'm with them. I'm not too picky either. Sampling from a variety is a good thing if you ask me. Short. Tall. Chubby. Skinny. Light skin. Dark skin. Young. Old. Human. Immortal. None of that matters too much as long as I like their personalities. Normally all I need to do is flirt a little and I'll have the guy eating out of the palm of my hand in no time. And then..." Her mouth lifts into a smirk. "I'm sure you can guess what comes next."

I don't utter a word. Instead, I watch her smile gradually fade into nothing. "One of the only rules I have is that the man I'm interested in must be unattached," she continues. "No exceptions. But last night I let my pride get the better of me and ignored that rule. I told myself that since Edward wasn't married yet, he's technically single." Tanya's shoulders collapse under the weight of guilt. "And I never once considered I was doing anything wrong. It wasn't until my sisters put together an intervention last night did I come to my senses."

"An intervention?" I repeat, squinting my eyes confusedly.

"Yes. My sisters sat me down and had a long talk about my behavior. Until they spoke up, I had failed to realize I had done some morally questionable things as of late. I can't believe how selfish I've been. Harassing an engaged man is inexcusable." She shakes her head at herself. "I am very sorry, Bella. I disrespected both you and Edward last night. I know my apology may not mean much to you, but I wanted to give it just the same."

Slowly, I relax and stop worrying that Tanya is here to kill me. I admit she looks apologetic, but I'm not ready to hand out forgiveness yet. There are a few things that I would like to understand first.

"May I ask you something?" I inquire timidly.

"You may."

A canine tooth drags along my bottom lip as I form my question. "What did you mean when you said 'your pride got the better of you' last night?" Although I have a good idea what she meant by that remark, I would still like to hear her take on it.

She peeks down at her lap for a short spell before responding. "It's like I explained before, it's usually a cinch for me to seduce a man. Especially a human man. Give 'em a wink, squeeze their knee just right, and then the poor things are practically begging you to take them home for the night. Then along came a new challenge for me to take on. Edward." She tosses a clump of her hair behind a shoulder and purses her mouth. "Truth be told, I don't mess with teenage boys very often. Usually their immaturity and inexperience are enough to keep me disinterested. Though, I was willing to make an exception with Edward. It's not every day you come across someone like him. A boy who was born over a hundred years ago and lives among a coven of vampires? Fascinating. He was attractive, too - by human standards, at least. I began viewing him as I would a rare, one-of-a-kind collector's item. Bedding him would certainly be memorable." Her eyes stretch wide as they meet my gaze. "Excuse me for being so blunt."

Swallowing down my discomfort, I shake my head. "No. It's fine. I appreciate the honesty. Continue, please."

Tanya gives a tight smile for a fraction of a second. "I tried everything I could think of to lure him in. I flirted. I dropped hints. Nothing worked. It was like the boy was immune to everything I threw at him. That has never happened to me in all my years. Before him, the toughest nut I had to crack gave in to my advances within an hour. And the only reason it took that long was because the guy had to wait until he was off duty before we could do anything. Those Mounties sure are a stickler for following the rules up there in the Yukon," she ends with an exasperated sigh.

Shrugging off that disappointing memory, Tanya goes on with her explanation. "In the first few hours after Edward's rejection, I took him at his word and accepted he was a traditional guy who just wasn't the type to sleep around. It's an admirable trait for sure, but for the life of me I don't see how anyone would want to wait around forever for the perfect person to show up. I mean...look at me. If I had saved myself for my future mate, I'd still be a virgin these one thousand and twenty-three years." Her small button nose scrunches up and she shivers violently. "Ugh! What a horrible thought. I think sex was the only thing that got me through the Dark Ages. Trust me - it was even more depressing than it sounds.

"Anyway, I took Edward's decision in stride at first. But once I arrived home and thought back on it, the more it bothered me. A hormonal teenage boy told me 'no'. A human male rejected me," she emphasizes, jabbing her ivory thumb into her breast. Her elegant hand slips slowly down her chest and falls open onto her lap. "I guess you could say he bruised my ego. I began questioning everything about myself. Was I losing my touch and that's why he turned me down? Did he not find me attractive enough? Perhaps I wasn't as alluring as I had been once upon a time."

My forehead scrunches together. Tanya is a vampire. She's beyond gorgeous. If a creature like her can feel insecurity, what hope do I have to ever be confident about myself?

Gazing ruminatively out the window, she watches a tree sway in the breeze. "To save my pride, I came up with excuses to explain what went wrong. Eventually I settled on believing he was asexual. It explained everything - or so I thought. Edward's lack of sex drive. The fact he wasn't dating anyone at the time. His disinterest in me. It fit right in."

She pauses, flicking her attention back to my face. "Well, fast forward to a few weeks ago. Irina gets a phone call from Esme. And surprise, surprise - Edward is getting married soon. The news blew me away. Obviously, asexuality had never been the problem. It was me after all."

Tanya's beautiful face screws up into a frown. "I think this is where I went a little crazy, Bella. I got it into my head that Edward must have needed some extra time growing up and now he would be more receptive to what I have to offer. I felt positive things would be different this time if I gave him another go. My plan was to come down here, prove to myself that I've still got it, and succeed where I had failed before. Then, I could count Edward as just another one of my many conquests." She grimaces, her pouty lips curled in disgust. "How narcissistic that sounds."

I clear my throat and sit up straighter in my chair. "So...you never had feelings for him?"

Her head jerks back, blonde brows drawing together. Seconds pass. Then she cackles a laugh. "Oh, heavens no! Don't get me wrong. He's a wonderful person and probably the most charming human I've come across in years, but I certainly don't love him. In fact, I've never been fortunate enough to feel anything more than attraction to anyone. But my goodness, I've put in plenty of time looking for the right man. That's one reason why I've kept my options open. I believed having both mortals and immortals as partners would better my chances at finding my mate. Turns out it hasn't helped much," she reveals, eyes glazing over wistfully.

Before this moment, never would I have imagined I'd feel bad for a glamorous femme fatale who has claimed more lovers in her lifetime than there are entries in the local telephone book. But I do. It took me less than two decades to find the right person I want to spend the rest of my life with. Tanya has been through a hundred decades without someone special. No wonder she's got issues.

"That sounds awful," I admit.

She shrugs a shoulder and sighs. "I agree it's not an ideal situation, but it hasn't been too terrible either. My male acquaintances through the centuries have been nice company. They do a decent job of keeping my mind off less pleasant things - even if it's only for a night or two. Though in hindsight, Napoleon wasn't so great. He kept wanting to check himself out in the mirror the entire time we were together. I think looking at his own reflection turned him on more than anything I did for him." Her mouth pinches together. "What a creep."

My curiosity has me speaking before I can stop myself. "But isn't it hard to be around human men like that? How do you keep yourself from hurting them?"

A laugh passes over her lips. "Oh, does that bring back memories, honey." She stares into my eyes with less confidence than before. "My sisters and I have had an interesting past. Has - uh - anyone told you how it began?"

"They told me a little."

"You know of the succubus legend?" she reconfirms. I nod my head and she loosens her stiff posture. "Good. That makes things simpler to explain. So, a few hundred years ago, my sisters and I found that human men were versatile. You could have a roll in the hay with them and then have a nice snack afterwards. It was a convenient arrangement for us. It took a few dozen tries before we learned how to control ourselves around the men without feeding from them too soon. I can assure you that it's no fun if your dinner date dies before you've even gotten past third base.

"But over time my sisters and I felt guilty over what we were doing. Most of those men we had fed from had been decent people. We decided that killing humans was a tremendous waste of potential. We thought, 'Hey, wouldn't It be great if we spared the men's lives so we can sleep with them again another day if we'd like?' So we agreed to change our habits to facilitate that goal. Drinking human blood was banned within our circle. Hunting only animals became our way of life. Although, I do admit it was difficult keeping the humans completely unharmed in the beginning. Sometimes our superior strength would cause us to accidentally break their bones during certain - err - exciting moments. It was a good thing for them that they were usually too blissed out post-coital to notice their pelvises were fractured - at least for a couple of minutes. That's when the screaming would start and chaos would ensue." Noticing my steadily whitening face, Tanya winces. "Oops! Sorry. Got a little too detailed there, didn't I?"

I blink back my horror and try to appear unaffected. "It's OK," I mutter hoarsely. "So - ahem! - it sounds like it took a lot of effort to learn how to control yourself around them."

"It was hard. But it's been worth it. Humans have their pros and cons, too - just like any vampire I've been with. I wouldn't trade my time with them for the world."

"Really?" I reply, slightly incredulous.

Her eyes lighten up, obviously pleased to elaborate. "Oh, yes. Human men are often wonderful lovers. They're so happy I'm giving them the time of day that they will do just about anything to please me. And they're grateful, too. I feel like I'm Mother Teresa handing out bread amongst the poor whenever I invite one of them over for the night. Though, what I think I like best is how they feel to the touch There's nothing like cuddling up with a soft, warm man for a few minutes before we go at it again," she confesses in a kitten purr. Nanoseconds later, the glint in her eyes dim. "The only downside is that they're fragile and collapse from exhaustion way too soon. What I wouldn't give to be with a human who could last for longer than a couple of hours."

The hint of sadness in her expression dissipates. "Being with a vampire is almost the polar opposite. An immortal has loads of stamina and will last for days and days on end. That's a wonderful advantage they have over humans. And talk about attractive. Vampire men are physically perfect. I almost have an orgasm just looking at their faces. But many of them are too obnoxious and vain to deal with for long. Are you aware of how many immortal men have hinted they were doing me some great, big favor in sleeping with me? As though I should drop down and worship the ground they walk on just because they agreed to have a one night stand? Talk about nerve!" she huffs.

"And then there's the diet problem," Tanya complains with a frown. "A majority of the male vampires my sisters and I have come across drink from humans, and they have no desire to ever stop. It's a big turn off. I can't commit to a man who might have just fed from one of my former human lovers. That's sick!"

My mouth puckers out as I ruminate her problem. "I'm sure there's at least a few nice vegetarians out there somewhere. The right one for you has to turn up sooner or later."

"Thanks for the encouragement, but I doubt it. As far as I know, only two covens are vegetarian - Carlisle's and mine. So unless there's a lonely nomad wandering around who has gained a conscience on his own, I'll just have to make do with my current lifestyle." Licking at her lips, she leans in confidentiality. "Speaking of which, will there be any bachelors at your wedding this evening?" she asks with a side smirk.

I smile a little and nod. I'm sure once the guests get a glimpse of Tanya and her sisters, a good portion of the single men will be clamoring for attention from the Denali women. "Yes. A few of our single friends will be there, a couple of deputies my dad works with, some teachers from the school, and most of the Quileute wolf pack, too."

Her smirk slides off her face. "The Quileute? Do you mean to say that mongrel will be there?"

"Mongrel? Oh! You mean Jacob. Yeah, he'll be there. Unfortunately," I add in a grumble. The urge to punch Jake's gut after that stunt he pulled with Tanya the night before has not abated in the slightest. Just because he's a friend doesn't mean he can act like a jerk whenever he pleases.

Tanya's eyes narrow into slits. "So it's 'Jacob', eh? Hmph! I assumed his name would be something more in keeping with his unpleasant personality. Like, Prick. I swear, I've never been more insulted in all my existence!"

I snort laugh at the nickname she came up with. "Don't worry. He's under strict instructions to behave himself tonight. If he acts like that again, I'll kick him out."

"Thanks. And I'll try to ignore him for the sake of you and your special day." Her head cocks on its side. "So...are we OK now?" she questions with a touch of uncertainty.

My head moves slowly up and down. "Yes. I think we are."

She smiles widely, laying her ice cold palm on top of my hand. "Good. And I appreciate you taking the time to talk with me today. My sisters said it would be therapeutic, and they were right! I owe you one, Bella. If there's ever a favor you need or a question you might have, you be sure to call me. Like, I could give you some tips for the honeymoon. Did you know most men love it when the woman takes control for a while? See, what I like to do is find out what their kink is beforehand, pin them down to the mattress, and-"

"No, no, no! That's OK!" I butt in, holding up a hand to stop her talking. "Um, thanks for the offer, but I think Edward and I would rather discover things on our own as we go along."

Tanya freezes, appearing slightly taken aback. Her lips pucker out contemplatively. "Ah. I see. You want to take things slow, don't you? Well, I don't blame you there. Newlyweds should practice the easy stuff first before they do anything adventurous. And vanilla sex can be nice, too. It's very relaxing. I should probably do it more often." She rises from her footstool. "Well, I guess I'd better get going now. I'll be helping set up the decorations for the reception." She takes a couple of graceful steps towards the bedroom door.

"Tanya?" I call out.

Her entire body rotates around to face me once again. "Yes?"

"You said I could ask you a question anytime. Right?"

"Of course. Day or night."

"So, you wouldn't mind if I ask you one more thing before you go downstairs?" She nods her head encouragingly, the ends of her strawberry blonde curls bouncing. I moisten my lips before I speak. "Has anyone told you about where Edward and I are going for the honeymoon?" I know I shouldn't be taking advantage of Tanya's ignorance by asking her a question I'm not supposed to know the answer to yet, but I can't help it. It's Edward's fault for keeping me in the dark.

In less than a heartbeat, she's zips across the room and appears back on the footstool. "Yes! Esme told me all about it this morning. You're one very lucky girl! I can't think of a more fitting place to honeymoon. The people are absolutely wonderful there. One of the most darling men I've ever slept with came from a town not too far away from where you'll be staying. And the landscape! Simply charming! It's quiet and peaceful, yet it's also close by to some amazing nightlife. You just have to go to this place called-"

"Stop!" shouts a familiar, high-pitched voice. Our heads swing towards the opened bedroom door. Alice's eyebrows are skewed down at me. "Bel-la! What do you think you're doing?"

"Err...making polite conversation?" I cringe guiltily.

Alice tsks and shakes her head. "Sure," she drags out skeptically. "Tanya, the honeymoon is supposed to be a surprise. Don't tell her anything else." Zero point two nanoseconds later, she's grinning from ear to ear, promptly forgetting that she's upset with me. "Guess what, Bella? It's seaweed mask time! Let's go and brighten up that complexion!" She sings this distressing information like it's a treat to douse your face in sea plant slime. Or maybe this is her evil way of punishing me. Who knows.

"I suppose I should get out of your hair now," Tanya concludes. She gives my shoulder a consoling pat. "I'm sure Alice will make you look just lovely. I'll see you later tonight, Bella."

"Yeah. See ya later. If I'm still alive by then," I mutter under my breath.

00000000000000000000

"Alice, dear? Don't you think Bella needs to eat?" Esme points out a few hours later, her honey brown eyebrows furrowed in concern.

Alice continues to coat my face in foundation. "She just ate a snack a little while ago, Esme. She's fine."

"Then why are her lips blue? She looks ready to faint."

Alice giggles, the sound like the tinkling of bells. "That's just the lip treatment I put on her mouth. It's supposed to give smoother, plumper, healthier lips. It's well worth the hundred and fifty dollar price tag. But don't worry. Her lips won't stay blue forever. I'll be wiping it off in another minute."

I shoot her a dirty look. "Eye ips ahr num."

"What?" she blinks back at me, completely mystified.

Standing at a mirror nearby, Rosalie pauses in applying her makeup and works as an interpreter. "She said her lips are numb."

"Oh," Alice nods, seemingly unperturbed. She goes about dabbing more foundation underneath my nose. Suddenly, she halts all movement. Her eyes pop open. "Oh!" she shouts. Rushing to the bathroom at supersonic speed, she exits with a damp rag and removes the lip stuff from my mouth. Once it's all gone, she examines my face thoroughly for damages. "Well, other than a bit of redness of the mouth, you look good. How do you feel?"

I lick at my lips and move them around experimentally. No more numbness, thank goodness. But I'm still not too happy. "I feel like I've suffered enough today and earned the right to take a nap," I grumble. I've been stuck in this chair getting "pampered" for far too long.

"OK."

My body flinches in response. I'm not used to Alice giving in to my demands so easily. "Really?"

Alice smiles like the Cheshire Cat. "Yep. I'll be tweezing your eyebrows to remove a few more stray hairs. You can close your eyes for a little while if you want."

I send another dark glare her way. Gee, thanks, Alice. I'm sure I'll sleep right through something like that. Grrr...

Alice perks up straight and smiles. "Hey, Bella. The boys are almost back home." With a mischievous gleam in her eyes, she adds, "And it looks like your mom and Emmett are best friends now."

Edward, Emmett, and Jasper had to pick up Mom and Phil from their hotel today. But I never expected for Mom to strike up a friendship with any of them. "They are?"

"Um-hmm. She and Emmett have been swapping stories about you apparently. Did you really fall off the Pirates Of The Caribbean ride at Disneyland and they had to shut it down for an hour?"

I groan into my hands. How is it possible my mom can fondly recall something that happened to me one time when I was seven years old, yet she consistently fails to remember that the utility bill is due by the tenth of every month?

While I'm wallowing in depression, a vision crosses Alice's sights. Her eyes stare off into the void. Slowly blinking, she comes back to life. "Ugh! Rosalie!" she whines.

"Hmm?" Rosalie answers while applying mascara to her long lashes.

"Your-your... husband is seriously contemplating giving Bella a celebratory toast tonight during the reception," Alice stresses.

"Aww! How nice," Esme gushes with a motherly smile. "Emmett can be a such a sweetheart when he tries."

Alice tightens her mouth, amber eyes glowing murderously. "There's nothing sweet about what Emmett's planning. He's going to tell everyone that until Bella came along, he had always suspected Edward 'played for the other team'. His stupid joke will have half of the guests thinking Edward is marrying his beard!"

"Beard? What does that mean?" I wonder aloud, looking between three pale, concerned faces.

Rosalie tosses the mascara wand onto a table and heaves an annoyed sigh. "What it means is that I'll be castrating Emmett if he dares open his big, dumb mouth tonight. I can't believe that man is unable to remember the only rule I ever gave him - never prank or insult Edward while in public. That's for our private amusement only. I'll go remind him right now." Esme joins Rosalie to head downstairs.

I quickly glance up at Alice. "They're home?"

"Just walked through the front door," she confirms. Her pixie face pivots on its side, as though she's listening to something. "Jazz?" she calls quietly, yet still loud enough for a vampire to hear throughout the house. "Remind Edward if he steps within twenty feet of my bedroom door, I'll hog tie him up in his room until the ceremony starts."

"He was planning to do that?" I ask, disappointed that he can't sneak in here for at least a couple of minutes.

"Not that I know of. But it's always best to let him know what the consequences are before he thinks to try any funny business. Now, hopefully, he'll stick to getting dressed instead of poking his nose where he shouldn't."

The next forty-five minutes go by in a flurry of activity. My hair is styled, my body is stuffed into a white dress, and then I'm forced to remain still so Alice can apply the finishing touches to my makeup. She's helping me shove my feet into a pair of fancy, flat-bottomed shoes when the door swings open.

"Oh, baby!" my mother gasps in my direction. Rushing across the bedroom, she squeezes me in a tight hug. In my ear, I hear her sniffling. "You look amazing."

"Thanks," I manage to say despite the fact my lungs are being crushed.

Her arms release their grasp, a few tears dripping from her blue eyes. "Isn't she beautiful, Charlie?"

Charlie stands by the opened door, appearing about as comfortable as I do with all this attention. He coughs into his closed fist. "She looks real... nice," he responds uncertainly. My dad has never been very good at coming up with compliments.

Mom overlooks his less than enthusiastic reply. "I've never seen Bella look so glamorous. And the wedding decor downstairs is like something out of a fairytale. Is it true that you did this all by yourself, Alice?"

"Oh, no. I can't take all the credit. Everyone pitched in to make this day a success," Alice confesses humbly.

"But Esme said you designed the dress, planned the decorations, booked everything from the caterer to the florist, and helped Bella get ready today," Mom recites in awe. "You must be a very talented young woman to do so much in so little time."

Alice grins so wide that I'm worried it will get stuck that way. "Why, thank you! It's always nice to hear back from someone who actually appreciates my hard work." She glances at me meaningfully.

My own eyes roll to the ceiling. I "appreciated" Alice just fine up until she insisted waxing my leg and arm pit hair would be a good idea. The pain was much worse than I had anticipated. It felt like my skin was being peeled away from its flesh. Thank god I forbid her from going anywhere near my pubic area. I probably would have had to beg someone to put me out of my misery if I had let her.

Rosalie reenters the room. She's in a simple silver gown similar to the one Alice has on, but they both look like runway models from Mount Olympus. "Seven more minutes," she reminds us.

Mom smiles softly, misty-eyed. "It's almost time, baby. Are you ready to do this?"

I swallow and nod twice. "Yeah. I am."

Almost immediately, she bursts into heaving sobs. Water streams down her face. "I... can't... believe... you're...all...grown...up...now!" she wails, hiccuping between words. Charlie's eyes bulge from his head, flicking uncomfortably around the area as he searches for someone to comfort his ex-wife. Witnessing strong emotions always puts him on edge.

Esme appears like magic at Mom's side, wiping away the tears with a hand-full of tissues. "There, there. It will be all right," she consoles in a soothing voice. "Letting go of your young ones is hard, but it's for the best. It's time for them to spread their wings and discover for themselves what real independence is like. Our Edward and Bella will be very happy together, and that's all that really matters. Isn't it?"

Mom swipes a stray tear away with her palm. "Yes," she sniffs.

Esme maneuvers Mom towards the door. "So let's get ourselves downstairs and find the best seats to watch the ceremony. Did you know Edward was in charge of selecting all the music you'll hear tonight? I can't wait until the reception for the-"

As soon as they're gone, Rosalie cocks up a sculpted brow. "Isn't it convenient Esme had that pep talk handy? Good thing Carlisle recited that same advice to her twenty times over the past two days."

Alice giggles into her hand as she rushes to finish getting me presentable. Charlie wisely watches from a safe spot in the corner of the room, probably fearful of being knocked down by the pale-skinned Munchkin as she runs all over the place.

"OK, so what do we have left to do?" Alice wonders to herself, tapping her chin. Her fingers snap as she remembers. "Ah! You need good luck!" She zips over to her gigantic walk-in closet and comes back with a couple of items clutched in her grasp. "So...your engagement ring is old. Your dress is new," she observes. Taking me by my wrist, she sprays a lightly scented perfume on my skin. "That's something borrowed. It's my favorite scent," she smiles. Then, opening her palm, she reveals the last item in her hand - a feminine, lacy garter. "And here's something blue! Isn't it cute? Rose, come over here and help me get this on her."

While Alice bends down on her knees and slips the garter up my leg, Rosalie holds my shoulders to keep me from falling. "I don't know why you bothered giving her a blue garter, Alice," Rosalie begins. Her voice drops low enough to where Charlie cannot hear. "Bella doesn't need it. I'm sure Edward has something blue for her. Two things, actually." Her cherry red lips lift into a saucy smirk. It's not often you see her smile.

Alice flashes her a brief, disgusted look. "Wow, Rose. Very classy. You and Emmett really were made for each other." With the garter in place, she shoots back up on her feet. Her eyes dart to the clock on the wall and sparkle excitedly. "Two and a half minutes and counting! Are you ready to play the Wedding March? Remember, don't start until precisely six o'clock!"

"Yes, Alice. I remember. You've only reminded me of this a trillion times," Rosalie deadpans before leaving the bedroom.

Alice hands me my white bouquet and tugs my arm, leading me to the opposite side of the room. I find myself in front of the full-length mirror I normally avoid. Alice is in its reflection, looking as gorgeous as always. The woman beside her I don't recognize at first. She wears a form-fitting, white gown that draws the eye. It's demure like an old-fashioned wedding dress in the front, yet the back exposes plenty of skin to make it undoubtedly modern. The woman's mahogany brown hair has been meticulously braided and wound into a complicated bun on top of her head. Big, doe-eyes stare back at me. It's hard to believe I'm the same woman I see in the mirror.

"So, what do you think?" Alice probes curiously.

I continue to stare flabbergasted at myself. "I think...you will use this against me for the rest of my life. Whenever I doubt your abilities in the future, you will describe in detail the miracle you performed today and have me instantly regretting my words."

She claps her hands happily like a toy monkey. "Yay! I knew you'd love it! But you'll have to stop admiring yourself for now. It's almost time to go downstairs."

Charlie and I follow behind her as we walk out of the bedroom. As soon as we reach the staircase, she positions me on Charlie's arm and flicks some lint from his tuxedo. Taking a step back, she examines us. "Looking good," she mutters to herself. Her tone rises slightly. "Now, when Rosalie plays the piano, I'll wait five seconds before I begin walking down the stairs. I want you two to wait until the count of ten before following me. And remember, keep your steps slow and in time with the music. Got it?" Charlie and I both silently agree.

Moments later, the Wedding March jars me into attention. Next comes the sound of numerous people rising from their seats, chair legs scraping against the marble floor. Alice winks and wishes me good luck in a whisper. She takes unhurried steps down the stairs, as cool as a cucumber. My heart decides it's time to start flapping in my chest like a chicken who just realized its head had gone missing. The seriousness of the situation has dawned upon me. Everyone expects me to gracefully walk down this grand staircase. And I can't even hold onto the handrail! I might stumble over my own two feet and end up rolling down the stairs like a bowling bowl in front of my family and friends. This isn't good. Not at all. I'm so clumsy, I even trip over things in my dreams. And stupid Alice just had to invite the Forks Gazette photographer to cover the event. Great. The whole town can yuk it up when they see a picture of me sprawled on the floor with my gown flung over my head, courtesy of the front page of the newspaper tomorrow.

At the count of ten, Charlie pulls me along towards the stairs. We're on the first step when I decide to be honest. "Dad?" I whisper, barely breathing.

"Hmm?" he grunts without stopping.

"I'm going to fall."

He turns just enough to see my anxious face. His rough features soften. "No. I won't let you," he reassures me. "Just hold on to my arm. I'll get you to him all right." I don't need to ask who "him" is.

I keep my eyes on my feet as we go, watching out for anything which could pose as a threat to my well-being. Once we reach the ground floor, I glance up. A sea of people stare back at me. My eyes drift from one familiar face to another. Seth towers over his mom Sue on the back row. Jasper wears a small smile while Emmett gives a thumbs up next to him. Ben and Angela watch hand-in-hand as I march down the aisle. Jessica hops up and down, desperately trying to see over Jacob's massive body. Mike stands beside her, his mouth hanging open and eyeing me strangely. And Phil has an arm slung around Mom's shoulders as she openly weeps. Poor Mom. She always cries at weddings. Even more so when it's my own, evidently.

Standing under an archway covered with ivory flowers, I spot the owner of my favorite face. I knew Edward would dress up this evening, but I don't think I was properly prepared for just how great he would look. His tuxedo is black with a white waistcoat, similar to what the male passengers of the Titanic would have worn a hundred years ago. A matching black bow tie is wrapped at his neck. My breath catches. It's perfect. He's perfect. I think Edward gets handsomer each time I see him. How is that even possible?

His mouth lifts at the corners, exposing a playful grin just for me. For the first time today, my heart flutters for a different reason besides nervousness. I give him a smile in return. Vaguely, I observe Carlisle standing at his side as his Best Man. Nearby is Angela's dad, the local pastor and the officiant to this evening's ceremony. But all I really notice is Edward and how slow this dumb Wedding March is. All this taking one tiny step and then pausing for a moment is wasting precious time. If Rosalie would only speed things up on that piano, I could run over to Edward and be with him that much sooner.

When Charlie and I finally reach the huge floral arch, I detach from his arm and float to Edward. I don't acknowledge Mr. Weber. I don't pay attention to the inspirational things he says. I don't even care when I hear him using my much-dispised name, Isabella. Because I'm too focused on Edward's face and eyes and grin to worry about what's going on around us. He seems so happy and content with life that I can't look away from his face. I don't want to miss anything. That would be a travesty. And he must feel it too since he won't glance away from me either.

Mr. Weber calls out my name again in a serious tone, temporarily yanking my head from out of the clouds. He instructs me to repeat what he says out loud. I do so in a half-trance, having made the mistake of resuming eye contact with Edward. I barely comprehend what I'm saying. Then it's his turn to recite Mr. Weber's words. Before I know it, Edward's hand caresses my face, tilts my chin up, and presses his firm lips against mine.

Now this I can handle.

Without another thought, I balance on the tips of my toes and wrap my arms around his neck. Warm hands find my backless gown, his fingers splaying across the exposed skin. Our mouths move in sync, tongues sliding and tangling around the other. I'm in Heaven, plain and simple.

My leg is itching to hook around his waist and reel him in closer when he abruptly pulls his mouth away from our kiss. All happiness comes to a screeching halt, although my hormones continue to buzz relentlessly. My face drops into a frustrated scowl. What's Edward's problem? Why did he stop? It was just getting good!

I'm about to snap at him for leaving me high and dry when the room explodes in applause. My eyelids flap open to see a hundred or so people clapping and laughing at us. Every inch of my skin glows like an ember. I was so invested in what we were doing, I forgot where we were. If Edward had allowed me to continue, there's no doubt that I would have peeled off his tuxedo and felt him up in front of an audience. The horror...

A strong arm encircles my waist from behind. His chest presses against my back. "Congratulations, Mrs. Masen," Edward croons into my ear. "We'll continue with that later," he teases.

I tense up for a moment.

He called me Mrs. Masen.

I'm not Bella Swan anymore. From now until the day I die, I will be known as Bella Masen.

A smile perks up the corners of my lips. I rotate around and gaze up at him, watching the euphoria dancing in his eyes. Yes. Bella Masen. That sounds wonderful.

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Outside beneath the cloudy night sky, the reception kicks off. Our guests watch as Edward and I slow dance under thousands of electric string lights. We sway back and forth in place, this being the only dance move I can handle without looking like a clown. Then I get passed around to my dad, Carlisle, Emmett, and Jasper for a spin on the dance floor. Thank goodness those last three don't mind getting their toes stomped on. But to be fair, Charlie didn't complain either since he was stepping on mine just as often. After I've smashed Phil's feet thoroughly and the song ends, Edward rescues me from further dancing for now and leads us over to a table. He insists that I rest and brings me food from the buffet. There's even a huge chunk of brownie on my plate. I knew I fell in love with this man for a good reason.

Everyone does their own thing since this is an informal function. Some people stand around while picking at the food on their plates. Others huddle at tables to pig out. A few stick to the dance area and perform the Electric Slide. The yellow-eyed people carry plates around, feigning that they are much too busy chatting to bother with eating. Edward and I share a table with Jacob and Seth, who appear to be very appreciative of the wide variety of food available. I'm still on my first plate when I notice Seth returning with his third. Food is stacked like the Leaning Tower of Pisa, wobbling and threatening to collapse as he walks. He plops back into his chair and starts scarfing meat down like - well - a hungry wolf. Which I guess he is, technically.

"This stuff is great!" he grins with a full mouth, barbeque sauce dribbling down his chin. Looks like this boy should invest in a bib.

I stare at him in a mixture of worry and disgust. "Do you always eat like that? How are you not choking?" I've seen sword swallowers with less in their mouths.

Seth sucks down a piece of beef faster than a Hoover vacuum cleaner before answering. "Aww, I have to eat like this. Being what I am, my metabolism needs the extra food. I have to eat as fast as I can to keep up."

Jake brays a laugh from my left. "He was eating like this before he even changed. He uses it as an excuse now. I think it's because Sue has been starving him to death," he jokes. Sue is very health conscious and insists the boys of La Push eat sensibly instead of surviving off of fast food and fried pork rinds. Whenever they get a craving for something she disapproves, they sneak their Ranch Doritos or Hostess snack cake contraband into the reservation during the dead of night while she's asleep.

Seth gives a stony glare and throws a napkin at Jake's head, hitting him on the forehead. But instead of getting mad, Jake laughs harder. "Mom doesn't starve me. She's a great cook," Seth snaps back.

"Yeah, cold tofu that smells like feet and chia seed slime. It's great," Jake emphasizes sarcastically.

Edward chuckles. "Death by chia seed. That sounds like a horrible way to go."

Seth rolls his eyes with a small smile twitching at his lips. Refocusing his sights on his plate, he gives up defending his mother's cooking skills for now.

I'm nearly finished eating when it occurs to me that in another couple of hours, Edward and I will be on an airplane flying... somewhere. And I'm just as clueless concerning the details as ever. During a lull in conversation, I decide to bring it up.

"So... We're married now," I point out to Edward.

He aims a crooked grin at me. "We certainly are."

"And now that we're married, our honeymoon is soon to follow."

A fire stokes within his moss green eyes. He abandons his food and leans into my personal space, his familiar scent filling my nostrils. "It is. It's going to be wonderful," he emphasizes in a husky whisper.

My breathing picks up, dazzled by his close proximity and the obvious innuendo behind his words. I swallow hard and shiver in my seat. The urge to say to hell with the party and lure him to a more secluded area increases by the second. But I fight off the thought since it would never work out. Alice is watching us closely from thirty feet away. She has probably already seen my fantasy and made arrangements to staple our butts to our chairs if we try to sneak off before the reception is over. Spoilsport.

I nibble at my lip and suppress a groan. Meeting his gaze, I try to resume seriousness. "That's nice to know. But, may I ask just one thing?" He bows his head encouragingly. "Where are you taking me?"

An amused smirk appears. "I told you - you'll find out at the airport," he replies.

"But as a married partner, it's your duty to tell me everything now. Keeping secrets is not healthy for any marriage."

Chuckling softly, he takes a sip from his glass. "It's not a secret. It's a surprise. There's a big difference."

"It's the same thing to me," I mumble in retort, frowning.

Since I get nowhere with him on that matter, I direct my frustration elsewhere to take my mind off of mysterious honeymoon destinations. I become absorbed in watching what our guests are up to. Mom and Phil are dancing, her head resting on his shoulder. Charlie sits at a table nearby with Billy and Sue. And Esme encourages a tall, scrawny guy to take another trip to the buffet. I don't recognize him until I get a glimpse of his face. It's the gas station attendant I see whenever I need to fill up my truck's tank. All we've ever said to one another was "hey" and stuff like, "Wow, the weather isn't too bad today. It only rained for three hours." Why Alice asked him to come is beyond me. A few minutes later, Irina slides up to him and smiles coyly. The guy tugs at his collar and checks her out from head to toe. She edges closer, placing a hand on his chest as she laughs at something he said.

Oh. So that's why Alice invited him. I guess Irina just found a bedtime buddy for the night.

While I'm watching the mating ritual play out, Tanya struts up to our table. She's in a black dress that falls below her knees and has a small smile on her white marble face. "Congratulations you two. I wish you both the best of luck," she greets, her eyes switching from me to Edward.

His forehead lifts up in surprise but his tone remains steady. "Thank you. We appreciate it."

Tanya zones in on my face again. Her lips spread into a grin. A lively laugh bubbles from her throat. "I'll be standing in the front row when it's time for you to throw that bouquet. If you can, aim it my way. I could use some luck in that department."

"No problem. I'll be happy to," I smile.

A taunting snort interrupts the light-hearted moment. "She needs more than just dumb luck to get a guy. Maybe a paper bag over her head and a stun gun would help," Jake sneers, eyeing Tanya critically.

I twist my upper torso around to confront him. My gaze hardens to stone. "I told you to behave. You couldn't make it twelve seconds without insulting someone, could you?"

Tanya straightens up and joins me in glaring at Jake. "It's OK, Bella. A mangy dog can only remember so much before it becomes a burden on his tiny brain. You can't expect anything more from him."

Anger boils in Jake's eyes. He inhales a sharp breath, preparing to verbally retaliate. Sensing whatever he plans to say won't be good, I slap my hand across his mouth and hold it there. "Please, please don't do this tonight. People are starting to stare over here," I plead to them both. Mrs. Weber brought her twin boys to the reception. What if Jake and Tanya start shouting obscene words and they hear it? They'll be the only kids in second grade cursing on the playground.

"I have an idea," Seth pipes in. He's smiling around at us, like it's funny two people with super strength are preparing to fight during what's supposed to be a peaceful celebration. "I'm thinking that they should go ahead and let each other really have it. No holding back. Tell each other exactly what you think without fear of reprimand. But, no physical fighting or dirty tricks. Only words."

Edward gives Seth the side-eye. "Isn't that what they've already been doing?"

"Not really. I think they're holding back a little. They should move away from the reception a little bit, have some privacy, and get it over with." Seth stares at Edward, smirking.

Tanya places a hand on a hip. "So, what? You want us to just stand there and scream at one another? And you think that will help?" she asks, stressing her skepticism.

"Doesn't hurt to try," Seth shrugs.

Edward crosses his arms and taps his chin thoughtfully, his eyes wandering from Seth to our two troublemakers. "I think Seth has a point. You and Jacob can walk away from the lights and work this out in whatever way you need. But, I suggest in order to keep this from appearing suspicious, you make it seem as if you are only dancing together."

The doubt on Tanya's face turns into outrage. "What?" she cries.

Edward presses his lips together for a split second. "You heard me. Keep your hands where we can see them, just like if you were dancing. I don't want our guests to know that you're arguing. Besides, it will help keep you from doing anything foolish - like clawing at each other or tearing arms off."

Tanya doesn't respond right away, her facial expression morphing from scorn to uncertainty. I guess arguing with Jake sounds fine but the thought of physical contact is harder to swallow. Meanwhile, Jake's lip draws up to expose a white canine. Their glares meet and hold for several beats. It isn't long before Tanya comes to a decision.

"OK," she agrees. Her white chin lifts haughtily to the sky. "But I'm really going to tell him like it is. It will not be pretty. He will beg for mercy before I'm done with him."

Jake presents her with a mocking smile. "Yeah. I'll be begging you to shut up because your voice sounds like a cat that's being shoved into a bathtub. All howling and screeching."

I release a long sigh. "Save the insults. Just... go get this over with." I point to a darkened area of the backyard, well away from the guests yet still close enough where we can keep our eye on them. I can't believe I'm agreeing to this. Hopefully, Seth can go over there and stop them before things get too ugly.

Tanya sashays off without bothering to wait for Jake. Jumping out of his chair like lightning, he stomps after her. I give an uneasy glance at Seth and Edward. They're both calm as can be. Too calm in my opinion. I don't think this plan will work out as well as they think. It's risky performing a social experiment involving a hostile wolf and a pissed off vampire in front of a hundred innocent people.

Jake and Tanya arrive at the designated area of the yard. Despite the dim light, I can make out their movements and facial expressions fairly well. He puts a hand on her waist to simulate dancing, his face clouded by a dark frown. She places a hand on his shoulder and dances with him slowly. What's not slow are their mouths. They're flapping at a hundred miles an hour as they feud back and forth. Although they're too far away for me to know what's being said, you can see by their stiff postures that the atmosphere is tense. It's a good thing that none of the guests appear to have noticed what's going on behind the scenes.

Song after song plays, and they continue to squabble. At one point, they stop "dancing" and look to be on the brink of killing each other for real. Tanya assumes a defiant stance against her much taller sparring partner. Jake's nostrils flare, his chest heaving. I blink once. Then the inevitable happens.

They lunge at one another.

I gasp into my palm, expecting to see hair and flesh being ripped out during the brawl. Instead, all I see is Tanya wrapping herself around Jake's body while he tries to suck her face with his mouth.

What the...?

Seth chuckles and pops a meatball into his mouth. "Took him long enough. He spent half of last night and all day today complaining about 'that annoying blonde leech'. And whenever I told him he was talking about someone he supposedly hated an awful lot, he would shut up for about thirty seconds and bring her up again."

My eyes dart back to the two supernatural enemies now playing tonsil hockey. Tanya has mounted herself around his waist and Jake's groping her butt like he's checking cantaloupes for their freshness. Eew. It's both gross and engrossing to watch.

"But they were just fighting. I thought that they couldn't stand each other," I comment, my nose wrinkling slightly.

Edward winks playfully, a smile creeping upon his face. "Some people find that fighting is fun. It excites them. Especially creatures like them. His cockiness mixed with her bold confidence makes for an interesting combination. I'm assuming that she's attracted to a human that doesn't break easily, and he's intrigued with the only being that swaggers more than he does."

I take a moment to think what he said through. Sentient beings who seem to like arguing? That sounds familiar.

"Ah. So, basically, they're like Mike and Jessica," I conclude.

Our eyes land simultaneously on the couple in question. It's been a couple of weeks since they last bickered over something small and temporarily broken up. The problem normally stems from something like Mike forgetting their fifteenth month anniversary, or Jessica hating a shirt he refuses to part with. Another break up is long overdue.

Edward frowns, his shoulders slumping. "Yes, just like them," he breathes out wearily. I believe part of the reason why he doesn't mind moving across the country is because he will no longer be forced to play nice with them all the time. I have to admit that taking a vacation from their drama does sound nice.

An hour later, we've done all the obligatory things you do at a reception. The wedding cake has been handed out, the bouquet was tossed, and the garter slung into the crowd. Now it's time for our exit. Alice marches me back to her bedroom to change into something more comfortable than a wedding dress. My hair is pulled down from the intricate bun, and I slip into a stylish blue suit and skirt.

Leaving the bedroom, I find someone waiting in the corridor. Mom swoops in from the sidelines to give a hug before I walk down the stairs. "I love you, baby."

I smile softly. "I love you, too."

She lets go and steps back, continuing to hold one of my shoulders. "I don't think I've ever seen a more beautiful wedding. And now you're set to go off on a fabulous honeymoon! It's so exciting! You be sure to call me as soon as you can. I want details of this trip! It's going to be just perfect for you!"

I stare at her, not holding back my surprise. "You know where the honeymoon is?"

She laughs. "No. But Esme promised to tell me just as soon as you're gone. I just love surprises," she ends on a sigh. Moments later, a strange expression flashes across her face. Opening her purse, she rummages through its contents. "Now let me see... Where did I put them? Hmm... I could have sworn- Oh! Here they are!" She grabs my hand, depositing something into my palm. "I forgot to give these to you earlier, sweetie. I was looking for a Tic Tac in my purse after I ate that garlic-crusted chicken, and that's when I saw them again and finally remembered."

I peek at what she handed me and cringe. It's three tiny, foil-wrapped packages. I try to drop them back into her purse before anyone else sees, but she keeps moving around. "Mom," I moan, my face in flames. "Thanks for the concern. But I do not need these."

"Of course you do! You don't want to get pregnant, do you?" she asks rhetorically, much too loud for my liking. She digs up a fourth condom to add to the pile in my hand. "I made sure to buy a variety. There's plain, and ribbed, and two fruit flavors. Although, I only bought the largest size they had. I figured since Edward's so tall, he's probably a big boy."

Alice snickers behind me. I flash her a cold glare. If she knew about this surprise beforehand, I'm going to introduce some pregnant moths into her closet. A little warning would have been nice.

I successfully toss the condoms back into Mom's purse and avoid eye contact. "I said I don't need them, Mom. I'm...in control," I hint pointedly. I don't want to announce I'm on birth control while more than a dozen people who possess supernatural hearing are nearby.

She seems puzzled for a handful of seconds. Then her eyes brighten. "Oh," she draws out knowingly. "It's the pill, huh? That's a great strategy. The pill you take once a day. With condoms you might run out of them quickly if you have sex a lot. You're so much more responsible and prepared than I was when I was your age. Now you can do it all day and night without worry!"

I hear a booming guffaw from downstairs. There's no doubt somebody heard that. Thanks, Mom.

Finally coming to my rescue, Alice reminds us that it's time to go if Edward and I want to make it to the airport on time. As we walk downstairs, I see that our guests have congregated into the foyer to see us off. Edward awaits at the bottom of the staircase, now dressed in khakis and a black sports coat. Family and friends take turns in hugging us goodbye. I feel warm human bodies embrace me, cold immortals, and the boiling heat of shape-shifters. I take note right away that Jake and Tanya are absent. It isn't hard to guess what they're up to at the moment. After the crowd backs off, Edward takes my hand and we walk towards the front door. My legs lock in place before we make it halfway there. I hugged a lot of people just now, but there's one person who never told me goodbye.

I let go of Edward's hand and ask him to wait a minute. Searching the downstairs area, I find who I'm looking for near a landscape painting in the living room. He's staring at it, his back turned towards me.

"Dad?" I call out.

He rotates around slowly, reluctantly meeting my face. I'm struck dumb by what I see. That brown mustache of his hangs limp. His eyes are wet. Charles Swan has been crying.

I walk straight over and gather him into a hug. He rocks us back and forth for a few beats. "I'm sorry, Bells. I'm just..." He trails off his words and doesn't finish.

A tear leaks from my eye. When I moved back to Forks last year, I never expected to grow attached to this place. I love Mom and the years I had with her, but living with my dad was life changing. I'm going to miss it. "I know. Me, too."

He pulls back to see my face better. "You be careful."

"I will." I dry my cheek with the pad of my finger. My face tilts a several degrees, holding a warning glance as a disturbing thought occurs to me. "And you don't go to the diner every night. Try eating something besides a Triple Bypass Burger every now and then."

His mustache shimmies as he holds back a smile. "All right. I promise. I'll only go once a week... Or maybe twice."

My frown shifts into a soft laugh. We give one more hug before we part ways. "Don't be a stranger. Call me sometimes," he says. I nod my head while backing away. I'll be calling him a lot more than just "sometimes". He'll see.

I rejoin Edward at the front door. Alice rushes in like a whirlwind and gets in another hug from us both before we take off. It's going to be difficult living so far away from her, too. But I have a feeling now that she's no longer "in high school", she and the other Cullens will be traveling to Ithaca often to visit.

With one last hand wave, Edward and I step out on the porch. Our feet turn to lead. We gape at the sight before us. His Volvo has been wrapped completely in toilet paper, from the roof down to the tires. There's not a square inch of metal or windshield to be seen. It looks like the car is ready to be added to some pharaoh's tomb in Egypt.

Edward turns on his heel. His annoyed glare lands instantly on the big guy doubled over nearby.

"What's wrong, Edward?" Emmett jokes between fits of laughter. "I thought you'd want to have a comfortable ride. It's 3 ply!"

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At Sea-Tac, we rush down the terminal and pass through security. Edward holds our onboard luggage with a firm grip and refuses my help. He does, however, agree to give me our tickets.

Like a kid at Christmas, I excitedly read the destination. I blink a few times in a row. This place never even crossed my mind. "London?"

"That's where we're landing, but it's not where we're staying," he replies as we walk.

"Then where are we staying?" I press.

He avoids answering until we're seated in First Class - me at the window, him on the aisle. "Hampshire."

"Hampshire?" I say, wrinkling my forehead. All I can conjure up at first is maple syrup and fancy ski resorts. Then I recall that's New Hampshire. Wrong location.

My thoughts move away from the USA and travel to another place and time. I picture fancy dress balls, horse and buggies, and a woman bent over her desk with a quill pen perched between her fingers.

"That's where Jane Austen lived," I gasp, my eyes widening at Edward.

He grins cockily. "I know. That's why I chose it. I figured since you will be studying English Lit for the next four years, that you may find it helpful to familiarize yourself with the country. We're starting in Hampshire, but we can go wherever you want. We can see Derbyshire where Mr. Darcy lived, or the moors of Yorkshire. Maybe even Stratford-upon-Avon, if you like."

I smile like a fool. A month. In the United Kingdom. No wonder he was so confident that I'd love where we're going. It was really thoughtful of him.

Then, he adds one final piece of information. "Or, we can just stay at the house in Hampshire and explore around there. Whatever you want."

The smile on my face vanishes just as quickly as it appeared. I look at him sideways, my suspicions mounting. "What house?"

"The house I bought." He says it casually, just like if he had admitted to buying socks on sale at Target.

I see red. If we weren't stuck on a plane in front of lots and lots of witnesses, I'd be screaming at him. Yeah, I know we can afford it, but that's not the point. We haven't even made it to college yet, and already we have to pay taxes on two different houses? Neither of which we have seen with our own eyes? That's nuts!

"You bought another house! You just bought the one in Ithaca. Why did you get another one? Are you starting a collection now?" I snap.

He chuckles and scratches at the corner of his jaw. "No. I bought it because Carlisle said that it would be a good investment. It's a nineteenth century thatched roof cottage. Based on the pictures I've seen, it's lovely and quaint. It's surrounded by countryside yet its only a few minutes away from a village. And it's just two hours away from London. It's a perfect vacation house for us."

"But-"

His lips land on mine and linger. They taste like wedding cake and seduction. He's using his hypnotizing skills and sex appeal to try to shut me up. Smart move.

He backs away a few inches and gazes at me with big eyes. "No 'buts' until you see the place, love. Just try and think of it as an advanced study course in English life."

I huff a sigh and twist my mouth to the side. Using my college major against me chips away slightly at my irritation. "Fine. I won't say another word against it until I see the place," I agree. Silently, I add, and after I see this house we don't need, THEN I'll scream at you. Because that's what a good marriage is built on - compromise.

Flying on an airplane to a faraway destination in the middle of the night has its downsides. Sleep doesn't come easy. Since you are sharing the same space with hundreds of other people, you hear snoring, whimpering babies, and people bugging the flight attendants every so often. Another thing which doesn't help is that when you fly east, the sun appears much sooner than you'd want. My body says it's three o'clock in the morning, but the sky outside the plane's window says it's daytime.

Ten hours of flying plus roughly two hours of Edward driving a rental car later, we pull into a driveway in a rural part of Hampshire, England. Through my jet-lagged eyes, I examine the area around us. A wide, green field is to our left. To our right is a small patch of woods. And in front of us is a house. Or "cottage" as Edward described it earlier. It's two floors of charm but compact in size. A lush green lawn stretches from the curvy country road to the cottage's front door steps. Leafy vines cover and climb the brick exterior. Wooden boxes filled with flowers decorate the window sills. The brown, thatched roof seems to hug the house, creating curved overhangs above the windows. And a stone chimney pokes out from the top.

I try to keep my mouth from gaping open like a fish, though I admit it's hard to maintain control. Because Edward somehow bought my dream home without me ever considering what I would want it to look like. Did he drive us directly into the pages of a fictional nineteenth century romance novel? If he did, I bet Elizabeth Bennett is our next door neighbor.

"So, what do you think?"

My eyes dart away from the cottage and land on Edward. He's watching me from the driver's seat, waiting for an answer.

I chew on my lip and debate what to do. Sure, I love the house. I can picture us coming here to relax whenever we have the spare time. But if he knows that he did a good thing, then he'll think buying me houses is equivalent to other men buying their wives bouquets of flowers. He'll believe it's normal. By the end of the year, he'll have bought a dozen more around the world as Christmas gifts for me. It would be insane. And expensive.

"It's..." I trail my words off, unsure of how to handle this.

He continues studying my face. "It's what?"

A brilliant idea occurs to me. Letting him know that I love the place would only encourage him. If I give only a lukewarm response towards the house, maybe he will think twice before buying something so extravagant in the future.

I stare ahead, avoiding his intensive gaze. "It's nice," I monotone, shrugging one shoulder unenthusiastically.

"Only nice?" There is a brief pause from his side of the rental car. "I suppose I'll put it back on the market once we can find a place more to your liking then. I saw a fairly decent Gregorian mansion that was a steal - only fifteen million."

Fifteen million!

My head whips around in a panic. I catch him smiling mischievously. Ha, ha. I see what he's doing. He saw right through my ruse and decided to pull my chain. And apparently, he thinks it's hilarious. If it hadn't been me he teased, I'd probably agree.

I roll my eyes at him. "OK, it's more than just 'nice'. It's perfect," I admit within a grumble.

Smiling wider, he leans across the car's center dash and kisses my forehead. "I knew you'd like it. Let's check out what it looks like on the inside."

He carries our suitcases to the front steps of the house and sets them down. After digging through a pocket, he extracts a set of keys and flips through several before stopping on one. The unlocked white door creaks open halfway. I squint into the room ahead, but it's too difficult to see anything from this vantage point.

I take a step closer to enter the house. Out of nowhere, an arm blocks my way before I've moved a foot. My face turns and meets Edward's sparkling eyes. "What do you think you're doing? That's my job, Mrs. Masen."

On the verge of asking about this "Mrs. Masen" fetish he seems to have developed within the last twenty-four hours, he ducks down suddenly. My legs sweep out from underneath me and I fall into his arms. I gasp out loud, my heart pumping in my ribcage. It takes a moment for me to regather my wits. He wants to carry me over the threshold, bridal style. I should have anticipated he'd want to experience every marriage milestone.

I try to gulp down the surprise and go ahead with my question. "You've called me that at every opportunity. At the airline counter. In front of the flight attendants. How long are you planning on keeping it up?" I ask, my voice lacking its usual bite.

His lips purse while he squints musingly. "Probably until the novelty wears off. So - to answer your question - forever."

He shoves the door open with his foot and carries me inside, but I don't pay too much notice of that. I blink up at him without saying a word, too stunned to respond. The position I'm in feels intimate in a way I can't adequately describe. I'm captivated by the arms which hold me as though I weigh nothing. And I'm unequivocally dazzled by the masculine face hovering a few inches above me. A lot of previously overlooked information hits me as well. For the first time in our lives, Edward and I are truly alone. We're almost five thousand miles away from everyone we know. There's no Charlie who might walk in on us and order Edward home. There's no vampires that could be listening in and making teasing remarks about us messing around. We finally have privacy. If I wanted to and Edward didn't mind, I could strip him down right now, straddle him to the living room floor, and no one could say a word against it.

I think that's the most satisfying epiphany I've ever had.

Carefully, Edward lowers me until my feet touch the floor. My eyes, however, remain pinned to his face. He notices and stares back for a couple of seconds. Then, with a cough, he glances towards the door. "I-uh...need to bring in the luggage and lock up for the night." Gradually, he meets my gaze again. Vibrant eyes grow piercing, as though he can see all my thoughts and fantasies. "Wait for me?" he asks in a gravelly timbre.

The sound of his voice triggers my face to redden. I fight it off and force myself to look at the wood floor instead of his hypnotic green orbs. Speaking would be impossible without stammering like a fool, so I limit my answer to a silent nod.

Within seconds, his footsteps lead out the front door. I raise my face once he's gone and give the room a quick scan. The walls are white. Cheery curtains brighten the dark, wooden framed windows. The furniture is new, comfortable, and obviously expensive. I see Esme's interior design work behind this.

I turn in place until I find the large, gray stone fireplace. A few knickknacks and a small statue decorate the mantle. Hanging on the wall above it is a medium sized oil painting. It looks old and valuable, done in an Impressionistic style. The two young lovers in the painting, a man and a woman, sit on a bed and are locked in an embrace. The man wears an old-fashioned white shirt and black trousers. The woman wears nothing at all.

Blood drains away from my face. Butterflies flap around in my stomach. During all my happy fantasies today of stripping Edward bare, I neglected to consider both spouses generally want to see their significant other naked at some point. I'm not sure I can do it. I admit my relationship with clothes is rocky, but I do appreciate their ability to hide your body. I don't even feel comfortable seeing myself naked, let alone allowing someone else to check out the goods. So what am I supposed to do now that I'm married? This is our honeymoon for crying out loud. Won't Edward assume at some point that I will disrobe for him? Of course he will! What should I do? How do you go about doing it? Do I perform a strip tease?

Nope. I'm not coordinated enough to do that without bruising myself. Nor do I have the confidence to pull it off.

Or, will Edward expect to undress me himself? He does come from a different era. He might have expectations about tonight that I'm not familiar with. Back then maybe the man was supposed to do everything while the woman just lay there on the bed like a useless doll, doing absolutely nothing. Maybe the woman wasn't even allowed to enjoy it. And when the man was done with the baby-making business, all she could do was congratulate him for performing his husbandly duties or whatever, and then roll over and go to sleep. That doesn't sound like any fun. No wonder people in old photographs looked depressed...

"The bathrooms are upstairs."

The butterflies flapping in my stomach turn into something bigger and more rambunctious - like prehistoric pterodactyls. My attention darts away from the fireplace, slightly wide-eyed due to being jerked away from my innermost thoughts. I discover Edward waiting several feet away, his arms weighed down with our suitcases. "You can take the one in the master bedroom. I'll use the guest's," he ends.

I quietly acknowledge his offer, too embarrassed to look at him directly. He trudges up the stairs with me at his heels. At the top of the staircase, he transfers a bag to his other arm and flips a light switch. The formally dark hallway is now bright enough for me to see that there are only three doors up here on the second floor. Edward opens the very first one he comes upon. I follow him but hover a moment at the entrance. The large bedroom looks like a fancy hotel suite. It's all done up in tasteful color schemes and elegant furniture. Two windows look out into the backyard while the surrounding countryside stretches far into the horizon. A walk-in closet is situated on one side of the room. A closed door is at the other. And in the middle rests a bed. A very blue, very luxurious, very large bed. A family of four could fit in the thing. Edward and I don't need that much space to sleep comfortably. What was Esme thinking when she ordered it? That we'd be at risk of falling off the bed during-

The thought gets cut-off midway. An image of that painting from downstairs enters my brain - except Edward and I have replaced the lovers in the portrait this time.

My cheeks erupt into an inferno.

At the sound of footsteps, I tear my eyes away from the bed. Edward walks to the closed door in the room and turns the knob. A clean, white tiled bathroom is exposed. He heads back towards me and stops three or so feet away. With hands slipped into his pockets, he casts a faltering smile. "There you go. It's ready. I'll be - umm - right down the hall if you need me. But it shouldn't take me long."

Instead of his words soothing me, they only serve to rattle my nerves more. I nod my head up and down to let him know I heard him, but all I really want to do is escape for a while. I fly to our now opened suitcases and find one of mine. The entire time I search for the things I need to brush my teeth and take a shower, I feel Edward's gaze on me. My fingers shake as I fumble around in my suitcase. As soon as I touch my toiletry bag, I zoom over to the bathroom and almost slam the door behind me.

I heave out a breath as my back falls against the closed door. I can't believe this is happening. Sure, I've heard about cold feet on your wedding day. But honeymoon jitters? Isn't this night supposed to be the fun part of marriage? And here I am hiding out in a bathroom. This is ridiculous. But at least I'm trapped in a place with hot running water.

Tossing the toiletry bag on the large sink/vanity combo, I unzip out of my skirt and shrug off the fancy blouse. The shower feels glorious after being on a transatlantic flight for ten hours. The water's heat soaks through my tense, tired muscles. My fingers scrub my scalp as I take comfort in the scent of my favorite shampoo. By force of habit, I grab my razor to shave my legs. Then I recall there's no hair to shave off. Alice waxed my armpits and legs clean of stubble. The only hair left on my entire body is my eyebrows, the hair on my head, and my-

Stopping myself from completing the sentence, I groan internally.

My face points down to my naked body - something I normally avoid if I can help it. I reluctantly study the landscape. Pointy hip bones. Wet, white legs that don't see the sun very often. And curly brown hair in my bikini zone. It's the latter that worries me the most. I'm unsure of what to do about it. Usually I just do a little maintenance around the area and that's it. But what if that isn't enough anymore? Maybe Edward finds hair there unflattering on a woman and that's why Alice was hinting that I should wax it all off yesterday. I rejected her offer because I believed it would A) hurt like hell, and B) be super embarrassing having my friend yank out pubic hair while Carlisle and Eleazar were close enough to hear my screams of torment. Now I'm beginning to think a little humiliation then would have been a lot better than what I'm feeling now - which is unbridled panic and a whole butt-load of uncertainty.

After staring at my crotch for way too long, I decide to go with my normal routine. I shave the area as if I were going to wear a swimsuit and leave it at that. If Edward has a problem with it, I'll just be mortified forever and spend the remainder of my life hiding my body from him. No biggie.

Hopping out of the shower, I give my skin a quick rub down with a towel. Next I dry off my hair until it stops dripping water and hang the towel back on the rack. Time to get dressed. Except...I didn't bring anything to dress myself with. All I have is the stuff in my toiletry bag and the wrinkled, dirty clothes I had on when I came in here. I was in such a tizzy to escape Edward's watchful eye, I forgot to bring my pajamas with me. Good thinking, Bella.

Snatching the white towel back, I wrap it around me and throw open the bathroom door. I take two steps into the bedroom and freeze in my tracks.

Edward's here.

His shoulder leans against the window frame while he stares bare-chested out at the rapidly setting sun, apparently unaware of my presence. Arms are crossed with muscles bulging, accentuating his tall, lean frame. My eyes drift downwards. His khakis are gone, too. Now he wears loose pajama pants which hang tantalizingly low on the hips. The orange, red, and gold evening's light mingles with the dark colors of the approaching night, the shadows of which reflect across his shirtless torso. Damp, bronze hair glistens from the colorful sunset.

I suck in a rush of air.

He looks like Apollo, god of the sun.

I gawk at him in a stupor. Seconds later, his head whips around without warning. Emerald eyes catch me red-handed. Straightaway, I'm very conscious of the fact that all I have on is a small, thin towel. My tongue glides nervously along my bottom lip. I take a quick peek at my suitcase across the bedroom. "I forgot to get something clean to wear," I explain, my voice no louder than a mouse.

Edward observes me for a few moments more. Then his arms unfold from his chest and extend wide open. "Come here."

I swallow hard and press forward. Running back to the bathroom is out of the question now. It would hurt his feelings. I just have to suck it up and pretend I am fine and not totally freaking out on the inside. Both hands grip tighter on the towel around me so it won't slip off unexpectedly. I don't want to take him by surprise and flash him by accident - because then it might be his turn to run to the bathroom to hide.

I walk slowly into his embrace. Long arms wrap around my upper back and welcome me in. The side of my face comes to rest on his chest. My ear is directly above his beating heart, each distinct thump like the ticking of a clock. I shut my eyes and breathe in the spicy scent of the soap he used during his shower. At the same time, his fingers ghost down the side of my neck until they entangle with my hair. Taking his time, he winds a few stands around an index finger. We've held each other this way hundreds of times. But the moment remains heavy with expectation, choking me with worry.

"Are you tired?" he asks out of the blue.

My mind is spinning at a thousand revolutions a minute. I couldn't sleep right now if I tried. "No," I answer softly.

He places a kiss on the crown of my head. It's small, but the message it sends travels throughout my body. He's ready. He wants me. Now.

"I love you," he says, still playing with my hair.

I can barely speak through my dry, raspy throat. "I love you, too."

Gentle fingers tilt my chin up. Edward looks me dead in the eyes, not allowing me to glance away. His eyebrows glue together as his gaze sweeps over my face. Within moments, the confused look around his eyes softens.

"We don't have to do anything tonight if you don't want to, Bella. I won't push for anything," he emphasizes, peering back seriously.

My eyes clamp shut. I steadily exhale a relieved breath. The fear and worry which has been gripping me loosens its hold, too. He doesn't expect the world from me all at once. He's willing to take our time before doing anything, and that's comforting to know. But, really, I should have already known he would be understanding. My overactive imagination and heightened nerves guided me instead of my head or heart. I overanalyzed everything. And because of that mistake, Edward feels obligated to forgo the normal activities of a honeymoon just to keep me happy. And he won't complain about it or feel robbed of a good time either. That isn't his way. He's usually too concerned about my welfare to think about himself. He'll climb into our bed, kiss my cheek, and wish me a goodnight. That isn't a honeymoon. That's a sleepover.

There really shouldn't be a problem here. I love this man. I've literally waited a year for this. Just because we planned the time and place when we would make love instead of doing it during the heat of a passionate moment shouldn't make any difference. Tonight isn't about only sex anyway. This is about being willing to experience everything with him - the fun and the awkward, the good and the bad. And if having everything means I have to open myself up to the unknown for once, so be it. I trust him. And that's all that counts in the end.

I reclaim eye contact, letting my love for him shine through. "I know. But I want this, Edward. I want you."

One of my hands releases its hold from the towel wrapped around me. I need to touch him. My fingers find his bare back and trace along the spine, the skin there still hot from his shower. Without looking away, he steps in closer and cups my face with one hand. A thumb brushes across my cheek. Warm, minty breaths fan across my face as he leans in. Lips press against each of my closed eyelids and wander aimlessly until they reach my mouth. The lazy pecks gradually turn deeper. The tip of his tongue sweeps quickly over my top lip. A sound vibrates in my throat involuntarily from the sensation. When his tongue does it again to my bottom lip, I'm ready for it. My mouth opens and brings him inside.

There's an urgency behind our kisses as time progresses, the heat we create driving us on. The only problem is we can't seem to get close enough. It's partly my fault why we can't. The hand clutching my towel remains between us, acting as a blockade and keeping our contact minimal. His fingers knead the area above my ribcage through the thin towel. It feels so very good, but I'd be lying if I claimed I didn't want more. I want his fingers directly on my skin and traveling where they have never gone before. And I'm craving the ability to touch him with both of my hands. I want my fingers digging into the nape of his neck while my other set teases the firm plane of his abs. However, we can't do any of that if there's a towel in the way.

So, I let go.

The towel drops to my ankles and out of my mind. I move in closer, wrapping both arms behind Edward's neck. He draws in a sudden intake of air the moment my bare breasts press into his warm skin. Having his body on mine without a barrier in place is like a shot of adrenaline. Every movement and touch is intensified. His hands begin a slow exploration over my curves, evidently prepared to examine every inch. I bury my face into his neck and hold on to keep my wobbly knees from collapsing underneath me. His fingers graze my skin, from my shoulders down. The side of a breasts, my ribs, my waist and an outer thigh all erupt in goosebumps. It's slow, agonizing torture. And incredible. I want to feel his hands everywhere, and all at once. But I want to do the same for him, too.

Breaking the kiss, our eyes reconnect. The sun is long gone but the bathroom light gives enough to see him clearly. I push away the last remnants of shyness and slide my arms from his neck. My hand journeys down his chest and to his abdomen, making memorable pit stops to visit places like his pecs and navel. I reach his narrow hips and follow the waistband slung around them until I find the front of his pajama pants. A drawstring is all that holds them up. I twist and wind the string around my fingers. Pausing my movements, I gaze back into his eyes and seek permission. They're half-hooded, reflecting back a burning hunger that makes my heart skip a beat. Taking that as silent encouragement, my hand tugs at the drawstring until it unties. The pants sag a couple of inches on their own. I help by sliding the fabric the rest of the way off his hips. And then, for the first time, I glance down.

My eyelids blink open as far as they will go.

OK. So, he's excited. That's understandable under the circumstances, I guess. But how is something like that supposed to fit inside me? I never considered the logistics before. I thought it would be around the length of a man's ring finger or something. But good god that's... that's...much bigger than a finger.

I take in a calming breath and try to loosen up. Stop it, Bella. You can't go overreacting again. Everyone says it will hurt regardless of size the first time. I can handle a little pain. And being with the one I love will make the experience better, right? Yeah. It will be fine. And if not, well... I'm sure there's at least one doctor in England who can stitch me back up good as new.

I reopen my eyes and grow curious. What does he feel like? In the past whenever my hand dropped down there, he would ask me to stop before we did something we would both regret. I'm happy to note he's not trying to stop me this time.

Biting my lip, I take a finger and move up and down his hardened manhood. I'm somewhat surprised by what I find. It's warm and smooth, like silk wrapped around glass. It's nice really. After a few passes, I peek through my lashes and observe the state he's in. Lungs heaving. Eyes dilated. Mouth panting. That's usually what happens to me after we've been necking a few minutes. I'm proud to discover I can do the same to him, too.

"Bella," he exhales.

"Hmm?" I ask with seeming innocence.

I wait for him to respond but he doesn't appear able to say anything else. Triumphant, I find the courage to up the ante. I take him entirely in my hand. He inhales sharply through his nose. I experiment in my movements, watching his face all the while. I assume he's enjoying it at first. His eyes flutter shut and his head flops back. Though, when I try to increase my pace, his jaw clenches hard. Darkened eyes emerge. He pulls my hand away from himself and won't let me resume what I was doing. I go to question why he stopped me, but his lips land on mine first. He devours me senseless and swallows my words. I get lost in the kiss and immediately forget what I was going to ask in the first place.

Grasping me by the waist, he lifts my feet off the floor. His mouth expertly sucks and licks at the base of my throat, causing my eyes to roll into the back of my head. I don't bother wondering where he's taking me. It feels too good to worry. My back lands on something bouncy and soft. I laugh and watch his grinning face as he slips in beside me on the bed. We smile at one another for several beats, his expression gradually turning into a heart-thumping smolder. He props his head up on a hand, raising his view well above mine. Meadow green eyes stray away from my face and travel southward, roaming everywhere. Instantly, my body stiffens with renewed awareness. I'm naked and uncovered. Everything's practically on display.

After a short time that feels uncannily like a few hours, he reaches for a lock of hair stuck to the side of my face. He removes it carefully, placing it on the pillow underneath my head. A fire flashes within his eyes.

"You're beautiful," Edward whispers.

Barely breathing, I watch him lean towards me. He presses his lips an inch below my jaw, placing more upon my throat and collarbone as he wanders down my body. His mouth ghosts over my skin until he reaches the valley between my breasts. I gasp out when his hand appears on my right one. Long fingers stroke and knead my flesh. Almost simultaneously, his heated mouth grazes across my left. A warm, wet tongue swirls around my nipple. A shiver passes through me. I never expected this to be so amazing. Sure, he's palmed me before, but that was with my shirt and bra on. We were obviously missing out on a whole lot.

Edward stops after a while and moves over me longways, balancing above my body on his forearms. I slide a hand into his hair and rub his scalp affectionately, causing him to purr in his chest like a lion. He thanks me by nipping at a breast, his teeth dragging across the skin. I can't stop the yelp from coming out of my throat. Chuckling a moment, he lifts his chest away from mine. He sits up between my parted thighs while a hand rests upon my knee. His eyes are busy surveying me again. I don't take the attention as hard this time since I'm getting an eye full of him, too.

"May I touch you?" he questions.

My forehead crumples confusedly. "Isn't that what you've been doing?"

"Yes. But - um - I'd like to touch you somewhere else as well." His eyes briefly dart down between my legs.

My back goes rigid again. "Oh," I gulp.

"You see, it supposedly helps the woman become accustomed to how things will be later. Sometimes it even diminishes the pain."

My head shoots up off the pillow. Edward comes from a time when the word pregnant was deemed too vulgar to use in polite society. So where is he getting this information from? Has he been reading Cosmo magazine? Or sex help manuals? Please tell me he didn't check them out from the Forks Public Library. I don't want my dad overhearing gossip that his new son-in-law has been studying the Kama Sutra.

"How do you know that?" I wonder, eyeballing Edward pointedly.

His head tilts down in my direction, deepening his gaze. "Have you forgotten who I lived with for the past two years? Three mated couples, Bella. You hear things sometimes - most of which you'd rather not have heard in the first place." Releasing a heavy sigh, his fingers pass through his hair. "So?" he drawls out.

A long pause comes between us. "O-oK," I stammer.

The hand perched on my knee moves up my leg. My own hands ball up into fists. Once he reaches my inner thigh, his fingers circle the skin there. I sense him meandering closer and closer to the place I both want and fear him touching. But within moments of making contact with my most intimate place, all I feel is bliss. His finger slides slowly in and out while he gives open-mouthed kisses to my torso. I want to let him know how great it feels, but I'm not lucid enough for speech. My moans and ragged breathing will have to do for now.

His movements grow more assured as time goes on. Another finger slips in to add to the intensity. It's too much and not enough. I writhe and kick my legs, pushing blankets and pillows off the bed in the process. Steadily, an overwhelming energy builds inside of my body. Then the angle he uses changes, touching a place that takes my breath away. My back arches and my knees tremble. He has ignited something within me that can't be held back any longer. My eyelids crash together, heart pounding like a jackhammer. A sound catches in my throat and dies. Wave upon wave of pleasure crashes over and through me all at once. Everything is light and airy, as though I'm having an out of body experience. I've never experienced anything like it before. No wonder Tanya's a sex addict. I think I'm hooked now, too.

Minutes go by. Another kiss near my belly button revives my stunned senses, sending me plummeting back to Earth. Still shrouded in a mental fog, I look up to find a pair of hypnotic eyes waiting.

"Did I do it right?" Edward asks, both brows drawn together worriedly.

I swallow and wipe a bead of sweat from my forehead. If that was wrong, then I don't want him to ever do it right. Evidently, he is a natural. I'm not a bit surprised.

"Y-yeah. I-I think you did."

He produces a small but cocky smile. Crawling up my body, he plants a kiss on my chin and then my lips. "Good. Because I plan on doing it often - if you don't mind."

My heart starts beating like a conga drum again.

Yes. Please do.

The joyful glow in his eyes morphs to seriousness. A hand caresses my cheek. "Are you ready?" he questions in a low voice.

I'm still a little scared but it doesn't affect my mindset in the slightest. I want to be with him in every possible way. "Yes."

He positions himself at my wet entrance, however he does not slip in yet. Our sights cross and hold steady. His tongue glides over his mouth, still swollen from our kisses. "I will try to be careful and move slowly. But if it hurts too much, I want you to tell me," he requests.

My head moves up and down in agreement. Edward exhales and soon begins pushing inside. He moves at a controlled pace, his forehead furrowed in concentration. I monitor the situation closely. I admit there's a feeling of extreme fullness down there, though it isn't too bad considering his size. Basically, it's nothing but a slight sting. I smile inwardly to myself. I was worried about this? It's nothing. I hurt worse when I stub my big toe.

Inch by inch, Edward nudges himself deeper. The stinging ache quickly goes from bearable to intense as he stretches me wider. My body tenses up the further he sinks in. Things worsen when a sudden ripping sensation has me sucking in a breath.

I've changed my mind. This hurts. A lot. It feels like I'm being impaled alive.

"Are you all right?" I hear Edward asking through my agony.

I smash my mouth shut and nod my head. Must not show pain...

"Bella? Look at me."

My eyes are shut. If I open them, he'll see how much it hurts and I don't want him feeling guilty. He'll spend the rest of the honeymoon blaming himself for one night's worth of my discomfort. So, I refuse and shake my head no.

A thumb moves lovingly under my eyes. "Please. Open up for me," he croons, using his smokey voice to lure me in.

Unable to resist, my eyes crack open. A traitor tear leaks from the corner of an eye and streams down my cheek. And just as I had feared, Edward sees it.

"Bella," he gasps, staring back horrified. "I told you to tell me if it's too painful."

I blink a few times to keep any more tears from pouring out. "It's fine," I insist through my teeth. "Just don't move anymore for a minute."

Edward studies my facial expressions till the count of five. Then his lips press together. "I'm hurting you too much," he decides. Without warning, I feel him backing away from me.

He wants to stop? No! I will not have him stopping just because he thinks it's too much for me to handle. He gave me pleasure tonight. And dammit, I'm going to do the same for him

In a panic, my legs wrap around his back. I lock my ankles together, not allowing him to escape so easily. Edward's head pops up and peers into my determined eyes. His face is a mixture of stress and bewilderment. "Let go, please," he states with a hint of difficulty.

"No."

"Bella. I don't want to hurt you any more than I already have."

"I said just give me one minute. I'll get used to it."

His hand clasps my leg and tries pulling it off. But I've put him in a predicament. If he tugs too hard, he might hurt me - something which both of us are aware. So, he handles me gently and makes absolutely no headway in removing my legs. I use his concern for my well-being to my advantage. My thighs tighten stubbornly around his waist and brings us closer together, thereby plunging him in deeper. I grimace and moan from the searing pain. He, however, moans for different reasons.

A vein on the side of his neck bulges out. "Bella," he strains with wild eyes. "I want this, too. But hurting you is out of the question. Let me go for now and we can try again later. Maybe in a night or-"

I grab the back of his skull and pull his face in for a kiss, cutting him off in the middle of his dumb idea. I show him with my lips and hands what my words don't properly convey. Which is, I want for us to see this through to the end tonight. I give everything I have, pouring out my pain, frustration, and love into the kiss.

Gradually, his resolve weakens - just as I had hoped. He grunts helplessly into my parted lips instead of struggling to get away. I collapse back on the mattress, bringing his body hovering over mine. His kisses drop below my neck and shoulders, tasting everything along the way. Thumbs massage my hipbones in teasing circles. The distraction is like a miracle drug for the pain. Ever so slowly, the stinging subsides to a more manageable level. It's more in the background of my thoughts thanks to what Edward has been doing in other places.

"Try," I gasp between heavy, labored breaths.

Somehow understanding what I am requesting, Edward rolls his hips inwards once. It's slow and smooth, bringing up only a small bit of a burning sensation to my body. This is a definite improvement over how it felt earlier.

"More," I demand.

So he does.

He recaptures my lips, forming a seal around our mouths. I can hear and feel his groaning hum as he makes love to me for real. My legs relax their tight hold from around his waist, no longer worried that he will run away. I can feel how badly he wants this. How badly he wants me.

His hand grasps my waist possessively as the pace increases. Ignoring the soreness as best as I can, I revel in our closeness instead. I love the full feeling of having us joined together. I love the unintelligible noises he makes as he moves over me. I love how he can't stop telling me how perfect I feel around him. And I love the way his eyelashes flutter as he tries to control himself from being too rough.

He lifts up on the palms of his hands and gazes down at me. "Ugh. I don't... don't think this will last much longer," he pants. He says this as an apology - as though I'll be disappointed that it's ending too soon.

I soothe his worries by slithering my hands over his body, from his shoulders, down to his lower back, and far below. I marvel at how his firm muscles tighten and release as he moves, over and over again. The thrusts turn progressively erratic, no longer sticking to a particular rhythm. A tremor rips throughout his body. Emerald green irises hide behind clenched lids. Then he stills, his chin slumping forward to his chest.

Half a minute of peaceful silence is all it takes for Edward's heavy breathing to slacken back to near normal levels. He raises his head gingerly. "Are you OK?"

I hold both sides of his face in my hands. "Um-hmm. Just some soreness, but I'm sure that's normal. And you?"

One corner of his mouth perks up. "I'm better than OK. It beat all prior expectations."

"Really? And what did you expect?"

He chuckles and very slowly pulls himself out. My nose wrinkles for a split second at the fresh sting. Apparently not noticing my pained facial expression, he elaborates. "I assumed it would be wonderful, but that was... indescribable. I'm a very lucky man, Mrs. Masen." A soft, sweet kiss lands on my lips.

"Thank you, but I think you've got that backwards. If anyone's lucky in this scenario, it's me," I retort.

"Then we'll just have to agree to disagree, I suppose," he shrugs. A sly smirk creeps up his face. "But it's plain to see how it's my original observation that's the correct one."

I pat his face in condescending way. "Oh, Edward. One day you'll realize how I'm always right. Don't worry though - I don't expect you to learn overnight. I'm patient."

He pounces on me with a predatory gleam in his eye - hands tickling into my sides - until I demand within a giggle that I need to clean up. After a trip to the bathroom, I slide back into his waiting arms and he pulls me underneath the clean white sheets. My body goes limp. Just as I feel my mind drifting away, I hear words breathed into my ear.

"I love you. Forever."

I think it's the first time I've ever fallen asleep with a smile on my face.

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Somehow, I'm back at our wedding reception - except this time everyone is acting weird. Weirder than usual, that is. Alice and Jasper are fighting over who gets the last of the white-frosted wedding cake. I ask them why they even care about it since they don't eat human food anyway. They choose to ignore the question and continue tugging the plate back and forth. Carlisle is charming my mom again by relating an amusing story from his childhood - which would have taken place sometime during the early 1640s. I beg in a whisper for him to cut it out before she catches on to his many secrets, but he only laughs and brushes off my concern. Emmett and Rosalie are in the midst of a breakdancing battle on the dance floor, doing all sort of complicated gyrations in order to outdo the other. When Emmett spins on his head at an insanely fast speed, none of the human guests even question the impossible feat. They cheer him on, forcing Rosalie to up her game in order to win the match.

Confounded by the goings on around me, I take a seat at a table to rest. To my delight, Edward appears out of nowhere. He's shirtless and wears only dress pants and a black bowtie. Kissing my cheek, he stands before me with his hands held behind his back.

"Would you like for me to serve you?" he offers, eyes gleaming suggestively.

I suck on my lip and nod my head, using my vivid imagination to think up ways he could help me out. But my fantasies die a tragic death once I see his "serving me" means bringing plate after plate of food from the buffet. I shrug in defeat and dig in. He does well at first, delivering some of my favorites to enjoy. However, once it's time for dessert, he consistently brings questionable dishes. Like, canned pears with mayo and a cherry on top. And, some sort of lime green gelatin with coconut flakes and prunes floating around in it. This stuff is disgusting. They look like science fair projects on how to grow mold and fungi. How could he ever think I'd eat it?

"Edward," I whine with a frown, attempting to call him back before he brings something worse. "Edward! I want you to bring me ice cream!"

A laugh jerks me into another reality. Right away I notice there's a heaviness on my left hip that I can't explain. Bright lights shine behind my closed lids. Curious, I squint my eyes open. Through the slits, I see messy hair, a buff male torso resting on its side, and a cheeky grin aimed at me.

A ton of memories come flooding back. I'm married, no longer a virgin, and can fall asleep and wake up in the same bed as Edward from here on out. Life can't get any better than that.

My lips curve into a smile. "Hey."

The heavy arm wrapped at my waist pulls me closer. Edward places a light kiss on my nose, the stubble of his chin lightly scraping against my face. "Good morning. Did you sleep well?"

I take a moment to contemplate the question. All I recall after the sex is passing out asleep in his arms and waking up just now. Everything in between is a blur.

"I'm not sure. I don't really remember the sleeping part. It's the part before sleeping that I remember perfectly," I reply.

Through his lazy smile, Edward winks. "You'll have to share your recollections with me later." He rises up from his reclined position on the bed and stretches his arms above his head. Biceps harden and abdominal muscles tighten. I think some saliva seeped out of my mouth just now.

"Are you hungry?" he questions unexpectedly, putting me on the spot.

Blinking rapidly, I force myself to stop staring. "A little."

His arms lower to his side. "All right. I suppose I should feed you then."

A sharp laugh fires from my throat. It's cute that he wants to be helpful. But unless there's a McDonald's nearby with a breakfast menu, I don't expect much from him food wise. "I'll take Cap'n Crunch in a big bowl, please. If we don't have that, I guess I'll survive with some plain corn flakes," I tease.

His entire face cringes in disgust. "Nonsense. I can't feed you processed rubbish coated in sugar. What kind of a husband would I be? I'll see if the caretaker stocked the refrigerator as I instructed."

Slightly alarmed, I shoot up into a matching sitting position next to him. "Then what are you planning to do?"

He stares off musingly for a moment. "How does an omelet sound?"

My confusion mounts. Omelets can be difficult to prepare. Charlie burns and ruins pans each time he tries to make anything more complicated than scrambled eggs. And, unfortunately, Edward has even less experience in the kitchen than my dad does. I don't want our first full day in this house being spent clearing it out of black smoke. Or meeting the local fire department.

"Sounds great... Do we have a cook that lives somewhere in this place?" I ask, cocking a brow hopefully.

A beaming smile lights up his eyes. "Umm, no. Unless you want to start referring to me as such - though I really hope you don't. I'd rather you find a more fitting term of endearment for me. Like, maybe darling. Or, honey."

When he's being a smartass, that usually means he's holding back information. My eyes narrow on his mischievous smirk. "What are you not telling me?"

"I asked Esme to show me how to cook a few things a couple of months back. You know, only simple things - nothing fancy."

The bottom of my jaw drops. He comes from a time and place where cooking was usually considered women's work only. But he apparently said to hell with tradition and learned anyway. My mind is officially blown.

"You learned to cook for me?" I reconfirm, a smile lifting my cheeks.

"Of course." The kiss he gives is electric, sending sparks to my toes. "You're worth it," he murmurs against my lips. Backing away, he stares deeply into my eyes. "You stay right there and I'll go get started. There's supposed to be a serving tray in the kitchen. I'll bring everything up for you once I'm done."

Breakfast in bed? And I don't have to get up and do a thing? I've died and gone to Heaven. That's the only rational explanation I can come up with.

His back turns towards me as he rises out of bed. The white sheet slips off his lower half, making things around here suddenly a lot more interesting. I forgot he was naked under there. My eyes decide on their own to follow him while he walks around the bedroom. All thoughts of breakfast evaporate. Dazedly, I admire everything I saw and touched last night when it was too dark to enjoy it fully. Tousled bronze hair. Broad shoulders and narrow waist. Sculpted butt. Toned legs. Every part of him is a wonder.

With his back still facing in my direction, Edward lifts a blanket from off the floor. I smile a little, remembering how we were too preoccupied last night to care if most of the pillows and blankets got knocked off the bed. A second or two passes and he picks up something else - his pajama pants. Evidently that's where they landed after I tugged them off his legs.

Instead of dropping the pants back on the carpet, he holds them and shakes out their wrinkles. Realization hits me. He intends to put them on. My smile collapses in no time flat. Pants? No. No, no, NO! This man doesn't need clothes. In fact, I think I should make it a new rule that shirts and pants should remain far away from his body while in the privacy of our home.

I blast like a rocket from underneath the crisp sheets. I'm naked, and I don't care. My sights are centered on getting to Edward before he can do anything crazy - like dressing himself and leaving the bedroom. I sneak up from behind and pluck the pants from his fingers. Turning around with puzzled brows, he finds my smirking smile. I throw the pants hard over my shoulder and immediately weave an arm around his neck. My fingers slide up and down his chest, nails scraping his nipples upon each pass. The confusion in his eyes quickly fills with desire as he explores me visually. Both of his arms ensnare my waist and drag me closer. I feel him growing long and hard, the tip of his manhood pressing into the area around my navel.

With our arousal building between us, I exhale a trembling breath. "On second thought...I think breakfast can wait."

In silent agreement, his hungry mouth seizes my lips and feasts as though he hasn't eaten in weeks. I suddenly have a gut feeling that we will rarely leave the confines of our bedroom during this trip.

I think I'm going to love visiting England.

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A/N-

Next Chapter- A glimpse from Bella's perspective of the day that changes everything. And, no, it's not a baby.

Unimportant but interesting (at least to me) side note- A reader several months back commented that Edward (being a male born oh so long ago) would probably be uncircumcised since the custom of circumcising babies wasn't quite as common of a practice in the United States during the early twentieth century as it is now. This is true. But, since this is fantasy (Ha! It sure is!), you may imagine him however you want. Have fun.

Thanks for reading! :-)