A/N: Apparently Edward can cook quite well, but everyone has mishaps in the kitchen! At least... I do. All based on personal experiences, but exaggerated.

Disclaimer: Nope. I don't own.

Bella POV

I sighed. It was such a cold night, and the hot water was thawing me out. I dipped one still dry arm over the edge of the tub and blindly groped for a washcloth to wipe the mud mask off my face. Finally finding my prize, I scrubbed my face, and reveled in the soft fresh feel of my skin.

Stepping out of the tub, I pulled the drain, watching the water swirl down as I dripped on the bathmat. The wedding had already been done, I thought, watching the whirlpool, we were finished our honeymoon, although I felt like I was still on it. And tomorrow I was going to be changed.

I slipped on my fluffy yellow robe, one of the wedding gifts I liked, and padded down the stairs to see Edward, the love of my reality. As I got halfway down the stairs I heard soft cursing coming from the kitchen. "Is everything okay?" I called out, feeling worried.

"Everything is fine. Don't worry, love," Edward said back, just audible enough for my human ears, "just make yourself comfortable in the living room, I will be there in a moment." I shrugged. Whatever happened in the kitchen, it is probably under control now. I trust Edward.

I gasped as I walked into the living room of the Cullen's cottage. The fireplace was lit, throwing cheery shadows on the wall, and a table was dragged to the center of the room, decorated in candles, rose petals, and shiny silver confetti. There were an assortment of pillows on every possible seating area, and a large soft throw in front of the fire. I smiled quietly; know exactly what Edward was planning for.

Even being married for several weeks, thinking of doing it still made my cheeks redden. Our first time had been beautiful and slow, a true act of pure love. Edward had promised me that he wouldn't hurt me, not ever, and he had upheld that promise, just as I believed. When I woke up the day after, Alice had dragged me from our bed, and pulled me down the hallway of our beach cabin on one of the Cullen's private islands, to a gathering of all the female vampires.

They pressed for details, and even Esme was interested, but I adamantly refused to tell them anything. After a lot of unnecessary sighing, Alice decided to tell them all the details, to my embarrassment. I had hoped that she blocked that particular vision out, but that hope was dashed.

I sat down on one of the chairs, waiting for Edward to come in. "Edward?" I called out, after a few minutes of remembering. There was no response. "Edward?" I said a little louder, although I knew it wasn't necessary. There was still no response. But a few seconds later, I unmistakably heard a quiet ragged breath.

I stood up, and hastened to the kitchen, not sure what I would find. Opening the door, a thick curtain of smoke rolled into my face, causing me to cough violently. I could see Edward's distinct frame, slouching on the ground with his head in his hands, just before he sprang up to my side.

"Don't come in here, Bella," he said strongly, pulling me out the door, saving my lungs. He looked me in the eye with fierce determination, but I could also see devastation written across his face. "Edward what happened?" I asked. He looked down and his lower lip began to tremble. I felt a rush of sympathy and love for him, I felt like I could cry his unshed tears.

He looked up at me and said, "I was going to make you a really nice dinner, and it was going to be really romantic. I had even practiced with Esme to make sure it was going to work, I don't know what happened…" He looked so pitiful, and he hung his head. "You seem to think I can do everything perfectly, but I've let you down."

I mock gasped, "You are right! Edward, I am ashamed of you, you have disappointed me." He looked even sadder after that, so I tried another approach, "Edward, everyone is allowed to make mistakes, even perfect people, like you," he smiled dejectedly. I thought of another way to cheer him up.

"Tell me what you were making for me," I demanded, pulling us both to the couch, temporarily forgetting about the possible fire raging in the kitchen. "Well I planned to start with a light Caesar salad, but," he said, shaking his head, "the salad dressing went bad, and the lettuce caught fire."

I leaned over, and whispered into his ear, "that sounds really nice." He turned to look at me, like I had intended, and I quickly kissed him roughly on the mouth, catching him on surprise. His lips moved with mine, and I pulled away, leaving him slightly dazed. "What next?" I asked.

"Um, I had a soup to give to you as well, a cream of broccoli," I didn't let him finish this time, interrupting him with a long, passionate kiss. I placed my hands on either side of his face, loving the way he feels. I pulled away once more, and he seemed to understand this game.

"But it boiled over, creating a makeshift oil slick in the middle of the kitchen," he pouted once more, looking at me expectantly. Answering his unasked question, I leaned over and kissed his lower lip, still stuck out like a two year old. "What was after that?" I asked, innocently twirling a piece of my hair.

"Well, my main course was going to be grilled chicken…" he waited a few seconds, and continued when I did nothing, "with pasta and…" he trailed off again. "And?" I prompted. "And cauliflower. But the chicken burnt, and the pasta lumped together, and the cauliflower lit on fire, lighting the lettuce ablaze."

He pulled the tragic face again, and snuggled against my side, "I feel so awful," he said in a trembling voice, "I am such a failure," he pursed his lips up, and closed his eyes. I leaned over and bit his nose.

"Hey! Why did you do that?" He asked indignantly, slightly sitting up. I pretended to think for a second, "Hmm, I think it was just for fun." I smiled a cheesy big grin, which he quickly wiped off my face, by smiling his crooked smile, and licking his lips suggestively.

I quickly kissed him, stopping before he could react. "Then what?" I smiled, swiftly sitting on my hands to stop myself from kissing him again. "Well, I had planned to have a really great desert, really delicious, and special… but I don't think you want it now," he shook his head sorrowfully.

"Awe, come on, Edward, of course I want it! As long as it isn't burned to a crisp like the other dishes." He looked himself up and down and said, "Well I don't know about burned... more like frozen."