A/N: I'm having a ball with this story, and I have some lovely ladies to thank. Thank you to eeyorefan12 for all of the funnies she came up with for this chap, and for her beta skills. And thank you to the beautiful gabby1017 for pre-reading.

BACK YARD EXPOSURE

CHAPTER 5

"This is California Health," said the automated voice that was definitely not the one I'd prayed for, "calling to remind Isabella Swan of her appointment on July 25th, with Doctor—"

Frustrated, I punched the delete button over and over, but my screen had frozen up. I finally just turned it off instead of tossing it in the trash. "Stupid, dumb pap smear appointment," I grumbled.

Alice started choking, and I thought I might have to give her the Heimlich. But then I started to panic because how do you give the Heimlich to someone with a ginormous pregnant belly? I had this panicked image of accidentally shoving the baby right out of her.

She nearly coughed up a lung. "I guess it was the doc," she said between giggles as she wiped her eyes. "Dr. Pap Smear," she added before cackling like a hyena.

I didn't think it was funny, so I got up and started cleaning up after the little piglet. "No more Cheez Whiz for you," I said with a huff. "I'm taking it with me."

"Not the Cheez Whiz," she whined between sniggers. "Sorry, Bella, but that was hilarious."

"I'm taking the sprinkles too."

"You can't take the sprinkles. Baby needs them," she said as she started rubbing her Buddha belly.

"Yoda needs some carrot juice, not more sugar," I told her.

Alice had decided that she did not want to know the sex of the baby, and Jasper had no opinion on it. Also, because she had no imagination, she called the baby "baby." I decided it was a boy and since Jasper has big ears, I anointed him Yoda.

I checked my phone, and it was finally functioning again. "I have to go. I'm supposed to meet Emmett in an hour."

She reached her hand out, and I helped her up. "If the guy doesn't call, you can call him at his office, you know. He did ask you out."

"Nope. I ain't callin' nobody."

We had a stare off before we both started laughing. She could see right through me.

"Bye, baby Yoda," I said as I palmed her belly, and he started kicking me. "I can't wait to see your green little face."

I kissed her belly, and left the Whiz and sprinkles, but only for him.

"Come on, B, you gotta give me more. Finish like a champ," Emmett shouted in my ear. Not only was I going to become crippled because of him, but he was also going to give me hearing loss. "Eight . . . seven . . . watch your form, six . . . five . . . five, I mean four," he corrected when I glared at him. I was struggling with my last set of dumbbell side plank rotations, clearly at death's door, and the moron couldn't even count backward properly.

I somehow made it to one and fell back on the mat, seconds away from passing out.

"I knew you could do it!" he hollered, slapping his big meaty hands together and continuing his assault on my eardrums. I just laid there, nearly comatose, and tried to get my wind back.

Emmett was no joke. He's five years older than us girls, and he had started his own gym several years before, which he'd expanded into two locations. He was also a personal trainer to the "uppity," which included some very well-known Hollywood folk.

I got his name from a college friend when I was struggling with the freshman-15. He shaved five percent fat off of my body, and I fell for the big goob almost immediately. One night, I invited him out for drinks with the girls, and he took one look at Rose and that was it. He drank almost all of the beer in the bar that night, then burped the alphabet before he got down on one knee and asked Rose to marry him. She slapped him in response. And they were married six months later.

I grabbed my towel and wiped a sheen of sweat off my face and neck.

"It was a wild party last night, huh?" Emmett said.

I hummed between pants.

"I heard you and Rosie this morning. She had you on speaker phone."

I covered my face with my smelly towel because I did not want to talk about it.

"You know how important her looks are, B. Dr. Cullen is special to her. He made her look good and feel good."

"Of course, she loves the boob magician," I mumbled.

"What?"

"Nothing. Did you hear how nasty she was to me?" I demanded as I pulled the towel off my face.

"Yes, I was getting to that. She didn't mean what she said—"

I rolled my eyes at him.

"Okay, maybe she meant some of it. But you gave as good as you got, B." He sounded strangely proud of me, but then a big, mischievous grin split his face. "And I told Rose the good old Doc wanted your number because he wanted a little bit of B."

I grabbed my towel and put it over my face again.

"I knew it!" he shouted for the twentieth time.

I groaned. "Emmett, shut it."

"Hey, if I didn't have my Rosie, I'd be all over you."

I lifted the towel enough to peek an eye at him. "Gross."

"Maybe she was a little hard on you—"

I finally had the strength to sit up. "Emmett, I love you, but after Dr. Cullen gives her some balls, she can come talk to me and tell me herself."

"Balls?"

"Yup. He does those types of implants as well, right?"

Emmett started howling and smacking his big hand on his big thigh. Emmett never did anything quietly. "I gotta ask him if I ever see him again!"

Later that night, I put on my Crest Strips because my teeth needed a little shine, and I rubbed my Charcoal Enzyme Clarity Mask onto my face before I climbed into bed with my Mac.

I stared at the colorful "Google" graphic taunting me.

"Okay," I said to myself. "Consider the facts, before you do this. He spends most of his time either looking at naked bodies or trying to perfect them. More importantly, he has touched Rose's bazongas, which is kind of a deal breaker. These are the reasons NOT to see him again, unless you lose a boob in a car accident. Do not do this," I told myself firmly. As I did it anyway.

"Dr. Edward Cullen," I eagerly typed into the little box, and I went straight for the images.

There he was in all his sexified glory...

Dr. Muchachas.

And for a moment, I seriously considered making out with my computer screen.

A/N: It's pretty bad when you laugh at your own story. Hubs thinks I'm nuts. Hope it gives you a laugh as well.