Hello, everyone! *waves*

Here is the first chapter of our first story together. We hope you'll enjoy it just as much as we enjoy writing it.

Thanks to the betas.

Twilight isn't ours, but we played with our beloved characters.

Without further ado, enjoy!

BPOV

Can true love make the worst nightmare a beautiful dream?

I like to think of that quote when I think back on how this crazy ride started. When I was sure my life had ended, I realized that maybe this wouldn't be so bad. He didn't look like a murderer or so psychopathic.

My mother died giving birth to me. My father took care of me by himself all his life until he decided he couldn't do it anymore. He thought he found the perfect future for me, but at the time I was freaked. I was to get married to some guy he thought suitable.

Considering I was a minor in every sense of the word, he had to give his consent, and he did it, without hesitation.

I remember vividly the morning I met my future husband. It was summer, and unusually warm for Forks, the rainiest town in the continental US. I was wearing some short jeans that barely covered my ass and a small tank top. On my way down the stairs, I caught my hair in a high ponytail, stopping momentarily as I heard voices from the kitchen, but shrugged and continued walking.

"Morning," I offered as I entered the kitchen. The man next to my father was maybe a few years younger than Dad himself, probably a friend.

"Morning," Dad grunted. "This is Edward Masen."

I finally looked better at his friend, curious of why he was introducing us. He never introduced me to his friends.

Oh, damn! This Edward Masen was gorgeous, but I was allowed to look, right? He was at least ten years older than me, but anyone could see how beautiful he was; from his tousled bronze-like colored hair, to his thick black eyebrows, his deep green eyes, his chiseled jaw covered with a dust of hair and those luscious lips. Damn, he was perfection.

"Miss Swan," he greeted me, standing and catching my hand, bringing it to his pouty lips. "My pleasure." His voice was like melted chocolate.

"Mr. Masen," I said politely, trying to keep the stutter out of my voice. My insides had turned into goo the second he touched me.

"Are you sure, Charlie? She's so young and has the whole world before her," Mr. Masen told Dad, turning to him, but never letting go of my hand.

"Yes, Edward. We discussed this." Dad made eye contact with me, and I felt my breath catch in my throat. I braced myself for bad news. "Bells, we both know I can't take care of a teenager, and you don't hide it that you don't like it here."

"But I like it!" I insisted as vehemently as I could. Sure, I hated his bimbos and the nights I nearly suffocated myself while keeping the pillow over my face and ears to keep the horrid sounds away, but this was home, and he was my dad.

"I thought of something that would be great for you in the long run. I decided to give your hand to Edward. He lives in Seattle, and is a doctor at Seattle Children's Hospital." He kept talking, but I lost him at the part where he said that I was to marry a man his age. To marry! I was sixteen!

"But I'm a minor!" I blurted out, doing my best to not start crying.

"You have my consent. I have to sign the marriage consent form and you're good to marry," he explained.

"What if I don't want to?" I challenged him, avoiding eye contact with Mr. Masen.

"You will want to, Bella. Don't think about the now, think about the future. You'll have a great life," Charlie told me proudly.

I wrenched my hand that was still in Mr. Masen's and ran to my room, slamming the door behind me before throwing myself on the bed and started sobbing.

He was doing this to be alone with his bimbos.

He failed to be a parent and decided to give me away like an old car.

How could he think I'd agree to marry? Marry!

Marriage…

I was a child myself. No. I refused to do this.

There was a knock on my door and I buried my face further into the pillow, sobbing harder. The knocking insisted.

Since when does he knock? I wondered idly. Charlie always barged in without thinking a teenage girl needed her privacy.

"Go away! I hate you!" I yelled.

The door opened as if I hadn't said anything. The bed dipped next to me and the person sitting there sent a strange current ran through me. It wasn't Charlie. It was Mr. Masen – my future husband.

"Bella," he said softly.

"That's something only friends call me. And you're not one!" I snapped, taking my claws out. I'd do my best to end this thing before it began.

"Okay." He nodded. "Isabella, I completely understand you. I couldn't have been more shocked when your father approached me," he said softly.

"How old are you?" I mumbled into the pillow.

"Just turned thirty-five last month," he answered quietly, his voice enveloping me in the melted chocolate softness. So he was eighteen years older! His big hand touched my shoulder, causing a wave of current run through my skin, and bringing a strange tightening in my stomach. "Would you turn around for me, Isabella?"

Slowly, I rolled over and met his huge, worried green eyes. He truly was a beautiful man. A man. And I was a young girl.

"Why?" I sobbed, covering my eyes with my hands. "What have I done wrong?"

He wrapped his strong arms around me and squeezed. I sagged against his chest and clutched to his expensive looking dress shirt, wetting it with my salty tears.

"Look at me," he coaxed gently. When our eyes met, he continued on a soothing tone. "I promise you this second that nothing will happen until you're ready. I can't decline the marriage proposal because I'm sure you wouldn't end up with another more understanding person. I know the circle of friends your father has, and believe me, you don't want to end up married with a brute."

"Can we not marry? You can take me to Seattle like planned and…I just…" I had no idea what to say. I couldn't live on my own.

Mr. Masen rubbed his thumb over my cheek, willing the tears away. "This is your father's desire, and I repeat, you will even have your own room if you want. Consider yourself my house mate."

"Except we'd wear rings and a piece of paper would connect us for life," I added sully.

"That can be undone if things don't work. I'd like you to wait until you finish high school to intend divorce, okay? I want to make sure you'll be safe."

Damn. He was already acting like a protective husband. "Okay," I mumbled. "When would the condemnation be? Sorry, wedding," I added sheepishly.

He chuckled quietly and caught my hand in his big ones before leaning down and kissing it softly. "In August. You'll come to Seattle a week before the wedding."

"That's like…one week away already," I said thoughtfully.

"I want to do it as quickly as I can. And school starts in September. I want you to accommodate before you start the year in your new school."

"Thank you," I whispered, realizing I couldn't really hate him. He was amazing. He was saving me from Charlie.

"I have to go, but I will be back in a week. Is it enough time to pack everything?" he asked concerned.

"More than enough." Suddenly, I couldn't wait to leave. I didn't care why Charlie didn't want me here, but apparently this man wanted me to live with him, and he wouldn't even force himself on me.

I decided to be the good host and walk him downstairs, and just to show Charlie I was okay with his crazy idea, I grabbed Mr. Masen's hand on the stairs. He gave me a side-way glance and the corner of his mouth lifted up a little.

"Charlie, I have to go now. We'll keep in touch," he told Dad, never letting go of my hand.

"Good, good. Are you done with your tantrum?" Dad asked me, looking pointedly at our linked hands.

"Yes." I smiled tightly. "This is exactly how I envisioned my life going. Thank you," I muttered bitterly and wrenched the front door open, dragging Mr. Masen after me. When the door closed behind us, I felt another sob rip through me.

"Shh." Once again in the warmth of his arms provided. It felt surprisingly good. I didn't want to leave them.

"I can't stay with him. Please, I can't!" I begged. "Not after this."

Mr. Masen tightened his lips and sighed heavily, washing my face with his sweet breath. "I can send my car on Friday to pick you up if I can't make it. Are three days enough for you to pack?"

"More than enough…" But still, I couldn't be around Charlie after what he'd done, after he signed my future away.

"He's working most of the time, right? I'm sure you can avoid him during the few hours he's home," he said softly, playing with my ponytail.

I nodded reluctantly and let him step away.

"I'll see you soon." He kissed my forehead before walking to his shiny, silver car. I was surprised to see him sliding in the driver's seat. With one final wave, he was gone.

The next three days crawled by, and every time I bumped into Charlie, I made sure to express how much I "loved" his idea. He didn't seem to get my sarcasm.

On Friday morning, I woke up to loud knocking on the front door and stumbled downstairs, still half asleep.

"Good morning," Mr. Masen said brightly and slipped past me.

"Uh, hi," I mumbled.

"Did I wake you up?" he asked amused.

"Of course. What ungodly hour is it?"

"It's a little after nine. I left bright and early to rescue you." His smile made my stomach muscles clench.

Two trips was all it took for my belongings to be stowed in his car. While I showered and got dressed, he waited in the kitchen. After a short note to Charlie – at Mr. Masen's instance – in which I told him I eloped, we left.

"I bet your father would be worried. You shouldn't have written that," he admonished me, but he was smiling as he drove out of Forks.

"Like I care. Would you like it better if I had told him I was going to have myself emancipated and had run away? Or that I wish he was the one dead and not Mom?" I spat, slouching in the seat. He didn't respond.

I must have fallen asleep because I woke up to someone shaking my leg slowly. Blinking rapidly, I took in my surroundings.

"We're home. You can sleep as soon as we get you adjusted," Mr. Masen told me softly.

I gulped and nodded jerkily. Somehow, it finally sank in what I had done. I was moving in with a much older stranger that was soon to become my husband, because my father didn't want me anymore. Great. Taking a huge cleansing breath, I stepped out of the car.

He grabbed my suitcases, and I slung my backpack over my shoulder, shuffling after him. The light was on inside so that meant there was someone in there. I had no idea if he lived with someone or if there was a significant other in his life. What if he liked many wives?

"It's probably just Carmen," he said more to himself, opening the front door. "She's the one that takes care of the house."

I nodded, realizing a bachelor couldn't do it alone. The house was huge, more like a small palace. He had to be loaded, not like I cared about the money. All I wanted was a normal life.

"Carino!" A woman around his age, maybe a little younger rushed to him and hugged him tightly. "The house is a mess!" she chided him.

I could see the tips of his ears turning red as he cleared his throat. "Carmen, this is Isabella. Isabella, uh, this is Carmen," he introduced us, waving his hand between us awkwardly.

Carmen pursed her lips and looked me up and down. "That Isabella?"

"Yes." Mr. Masen nodded. "As for the house, I'm really sorry. I don't think I've been home more than twenty hours in the past week."

"Then how did the mess end up everywhere?"

"That would be Rosalie," he answered quietly. "She's staying over," he added on an annoyed tone.

"Oh, mi linda!" Carmen exclaimed.

"Perra," Mr. Masen muttered under his breath before putting a hand over the small of my back. "Is the guest room clean?"

Carmen looked shocked then she put her hands on her hips and broke in a fluid Spanish I could no longer understand. Her finger was shaking and words were spewing out of her mouth at a rapid pace.

So, his housekeeper was Spanish and liked to call him "sweetheart", she thought of this Rosalie – whoever she was – that she was nice, and Mr. Masen thought she was a bitch. I was really curious why Carmen was upset. Of what he had said about this Rosalie, or of me sleeping in the guest room?

She knew about me. That Isabella. I wished I could talk my Dad out of this. He could let me live here if he didn't want me around, but not marry. The mere thought terrified me.

Mr. Masen answered Carmen in flawless Spanish before stirring me up the stairs that undulated to the upper floor.

"I'm really sorry for that. You'll understand everything when you meet my sister."

"I didn't understand what you said," I admitted. My Spanish wasn't that good.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Isabella. My sister, Rosalie, is visiting and she's not the best company in the world. Unfortunately, she's going to stay until after the wedding. If I survive that far," he added quietly. "Here. This is going to be your room." He opened a door and allowed me to step inside.

"Wow." It was the smartest thing I could utter. The room was beautiful. An electric blue combined with a lighter shade covered the walls, a deep blue carpet sat between the door and bed, which seemed to be a Queen size and made of iron – it was the most beautiful bed I had seen in my life. My eyes scanned the rest of the room, and I saw a big closet that would probably be half empty considering I didn't own that many clothes, a pale blue vanity with an oval mirror and a sturdy desk on the other side of the room, opposite the closet.

"Do you like it?" Mr. Masen asked anxiously. "We can find another room if-"

I spun around and hugged him. "It's perfect. Thank you!"

He seemed shocked but soon responded to my hug and wrapped his long arms around me. He smelled nice, of his cologne and the essence of a man's scent. I liked it. A lot.

~MHNF~

The next morning, I met his sister.

As I walked down the stairs, I could hear a shouting contest from somewhere on the ground floor. With a quick glance around for orientation, I started to the kitchen. I hoped I remembered correctly. After being settled in my room, Mr. Masen had showed me around a little, but I was tired and had barely grasped everything.

The kitchen was the source of the shouting. That kind of stopped me in my tracks. I couldn't very well go in there.

"Good morning, honey," Carmen said from behind me, scaring me. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," she said soothingly, touching my arm.

"Good morning," I whispered, still looking at the closed door in front of me.

"You have to get used to that if you're going to live here. That's how they communicate. I don't think I ever heard them talk unless the decibels rise." She laughed, opening the door.

The shouts stopped and the siblings turned to look at the door, both red in face. Without previously knowing, I wouldn't have said that woman was his sister. They weren't alike at all. Her blonde hair was long and slightly wavy reaching the small of her back and her eyes were an icy blue giving off a hint into her cold personality, or so it gave me the impression. She blistered when she saw me, glaring at her brother before storming past us out of the kitchen.

Mr. Masen sagged against the counter, fisting his hair in his hands. My eyes went to his bulging biceps.

Carmen went to him and asked something I didn't understand. He shook his head before turning around and looking out the window.

"You must be hungry. Sit down. What do you like to eat?" she asked me, smiling. Why was she so good to me? I thought she didn't like me yesterday.

"Do you have cereal bars?" I mumbled, feeling my face grow hot.

Carmen pursed her lips. "You have to eat, child." Not saying anything else, she busied herself with making a copious breakfast.

My eyes stayed on Mr. Masen's back the whole while. He didn't seem to move for at least fifteen minutes, then he suddenly turned around and left without a word.

I blinked after him confused. So he wasn't a mass murderer or a psychotic, he was just insane. Just my luck.

Not five minutes later, the shouting continued from upstairs, but this time I could tell there were objects thrown around.

Carmen sighed loudly. "They're so stubborn," she mumbled putting a plate with eggs and ham in front of me. "Orange juice?"

I just nodded, cringing at every curse word that was heard from above. And there were many.

After offering my beverage, Carmen cleared her throat. "BREAKFAST!" She shouted as loud as she could, above their voices then sat down opposite me, her hands resting on her stomach. It was the first time I looked at her, and I was surprised to discover that she was pregnant.

"Almost seven months along," she explained.

"You shouldn't be working, right?" I asked confused. My almost non-existent knowledge on pregnancy told me that a pregnant woman shouldn't clean the house or tolerate so much shouting.

"Then fucking go, but don't you ever come back, Rosalie!" Mr. Masen's voice carried down the stairs as they descended. "If you leave, this isn't your house anymore!"

"It is Mother and Father's house! I have a right to live here!" she yelled.

"It's in my name now. And I decide who lives here, not you!"

Suddenly, I had a nagging feeling this was about me. Tears formed in my eyes. I didn't want them to fight because of me, because of my father.

The front door slammed and I felt a tear rolling down my cheek. With the corner of my eye, I saw Mr. Masen at the bottom of the stairs looking shocked at the front door then rushing out of the house.

"Rosalie! I didn't mean it! Rose!" The door closed behind me, muffling his apologizes.

"Don't worry. They'll make up. They always do," Carmen whispered. "Sometimes you'd think they're an old married couple, but if they were married I'm sure one would have killed the other a long time ago," she contemplated, giggling to herself.

I composed myself, wiping the tears away and focused on my breakfast.

Just to confirm Carmen's words, a few minutes later, they came back, arms around the other's waist and laughing about something or another.

Mr. Masen caught my eye then looked at his sister. "Rose, this is Isabella. Isabella, this is my insane sister." He dodged her palm right on time with a bark of laughter. "Scrambled eggs, Carmen?" He asked as if nothing had happened.

"Hi," I whispered to Rosalie. She scrunched her nose but nodded.

As everyone started to eat, Rosalie looked at her brother then at me. He chose to sit next to me, far too close to be called normal.

"How did this happen, again?" She asked with a frown.

To my surprise, Mr. Masen took my left hand and squeezed my fingers. "Rose, I told you that love is blind. I was visiting Charlie in Forks and dropped by to the coffee shop. Isabella was there with her friends. I didn't even know she was his daughter or how young she was, I was attracted to her."

I almost believed his hypnotizing voice. When Rosalie turned her icy eyes on me, I plastered a huge smile on my face and leaned into Mr. Masen for good measure.

"And Dad agrees," I added. "That's the best thing."

"Yes, it is." Mr. Masen nodded in agreement.

"And you're getting married in two weeks? Do you honestly expect me to buy this bullshit, Edward?"

Okay, maybe we were horrible actors.

"Rosalie, mi linda, when is the last time you've seen him in love? I think he might have found the one," Carmen buttered in, taking our side.

"She's eighteen years younger!" Rosalie exclaimed. "I'm sorry, but I call this bullshit."

Mr. Masen sighed heavily and wrapped an arm around my waist. "You want the fucking truth? Her father is sick of taking care of a teenager! He decided to marry her off. Happy, Rose?"

She opened and closed her mouth, her wide eyes meeting mine. "I totally understand him. Who'd want a skinny, stupid teenager?"

"Excuse me? I'm stupid? Who's the one living of off her brother's back, Frosty?" I yelled and stormed out of the room, breakfast forgotten. Now I understood why he called her a bitch, but couldn't help but feel a little hurt by her comment because I didn't ask to be put in this situation.

That was the day when I learned to tolerate Rosalie and her snarky comments. The lie didn't work, but it sounded better than the ugly truth.

Over the next couple of weeks, I accommodated with living there. Mr. Masen took me shopping, and was relieved to see we spent only a few hours there.

"I might like you," he said cheerfully as we left the mall. "Rose spends the entire day here. Sometimes they kick us out."

"I hate shopping," I admitted.

He wound his arm around my waist and squeezed me to his side. "We'll get along really well, Isabella."

I avoided Rosalie at all costs. The only times I saw her was during meals and on the customary movie night every evening. I appreciated how close to his family Mr. Masen was. I never had a movie night before, nor had I eaten every meal with Charlie, nor had I ever had a popcorn war. He was acting like he was twenty, not thirty-five.

"Edward, I swear, I'm going to rip your fingers if you get popcorn in my hair!" Rosalie snapped.

He merely shrugged and winked at me before turning the almost empty bowl upside down over his sister's head. I gasped as she shrieked and lunged for him; she missed by a few good inches as he sprang up and rushed out of the room.

"I'm going to kill you!" she yelled.

"Promises, promises," he said amused, poking his head back into the room. She ran to him making him disappeared from view again.

This was the most playful I had seen him. When they returned, Rosalie was huffing and puffing, but I could tell she wasn't really angry, while Mr. Masen was wearing a lazy grin as he plopped down next to me. When his mischievous eyes turned to me, I squeaked and jumped on the other side of the couch.

He was in the middle of attacking me with popcorn when the doorbell rang loudly. Rosalie, who had been watching us with an amused expression, took the opportunity to leave, preferring to answer the door.

"Stop!" I exclaimed, shielding my head from his assault.

"Let me enjoy this. If I do this after tomorrow, it would look bad since I'll be your husband. They'll say I'm molesting you."

I groaned at the thought. I wished he hadn't reminded me. But I had an ace up my sleeve.

"The wayward brother is back!" Rosalie exclaimed loudly making Mr. Masen gasp and turn his head to the doorway. I sized up the opportunity to smash my fistful of popcorn to his face.

It was the first time I touched him like that. His face was kind of soft, but a little scratchy around the jaw where a dust of hair laid.

"Hey!" He shouted in surprise, turning to look at me.

"What?" I blinked innocently.

"You better run, little girl."

"You're not going to catch me, old man," I threatened him playfully.

"Wanna bet?" he teased.

I was already running out of the room by the time he stood up, but my mad dash came to a stop when I bumped into someone in the hallway. Then strong arms came around me, holding my against a tight, rippled chest.

"I told you not to run away," Mr. Masen whispered in my ear.

I sagged against him, and looked at the person I had bumped into. He looked more like Rosalie than Mr. Masen. Deep blue eyes, shoulder length, blond hair, a smirk on his face and very young.

"Jazz! Long time, no see," Mr. Masen murmured, taking his hand in a firm shake. His other arm was still around my waist holding me to his chest.

"Ed! I got this text telling me you were settling down. I had to see it!" the guy said challengingly, raising an eyebrow.

"I couldn't very well send you a letter. I wasn't even sure you'd see the text," Mr. Masen said shrugging. "Oh, Jazz, this is Isabella. This is Jasper, my little, extremely annoying brother," he added.

Jasper's eyes widened and moved from me to his brother then back to me. "You've got to be shitting me!"

"Jasper! Watch your mouth," Mr. Masen hissed. "We can talk all you want after you get settled in. You're right in time for the second movie."

Jasper gave me another dubious look before picking up his duffle bag and guitar case, walking up the stairs. Rosalie was hot on his heels, whispering to him. It was probably about me.

"Don't worry about him. He knows better than to say anything."

Mr. Masen took my hand and led me back to the couch, but this time he sat next to me with an arm around my shoulders.

"What's going to happen tomorrow?" I whispered, feeling dread filling my body.

"We're getting married. Besides the piece of paper, nothing would change. I promise."

I nodded in relief. He wasn't expecting anything from me.

"And…uh, if someone asks who you are, what am I going to say, Mr. Masen?" I wondered looking in his deep green eyes.

His lips pursed and the skin between his eyebrows puckered. "First, you have to call me Edward. As to answer your question, I guess we should go with the truth, don't you? We can use the lie I tried to make Rose buy."

"Sounds good."

When Jasper and Rosalie joined us, I realized I had been worried for nothing. Jasper was amazing, and open and eager to know more about me. We talked for hours until Mr. Masen decided we all should head to bed since we had to be up early.

I helped him clean our earlier popcorn mess while his siblings went to bed; then we ascended together.

"Have a good night, Isabella," he whispered, squeezing my shoulder.

A current ran through me like every time when he touched me. "Good night, Edward," I said quickly before I lost the nerve.

He smiled beautifully and continued up the stairs to the upper floor. I slipped into my room and changed in my pajamas. I tried not to think of what the next day might bring, but it was hard. All I could see was my father giving me away to a man close to his age, without blinking, without any remorse.

~R (addicted-to-romione-bedward)

Thoughts? Suggestions? Let us know what you thought of this.

To see the banner go to http:/www .facebook .com/groups/274198112656668/ and photos. Also, I will add a doc with everyone's age and profession under the name of the story.