Miss Conception and Mis(ter) Understanding

Edward Cullen attends a cookout at his boss' house and stumbles upon a troubling situation. He meets the most beautiful woman he's ever seen, but he believes she's being held in a plural marriage against her will. After the first meeting, he's determined to rescue her. Is he her 'Sir Lancelot' or is he reading the situation all wrong?

AU/AH. Canon pairings. Rated M for language and lemons. An unlikely love story with a sub-plot that carries a bit of family angst. SMeyer owns the world of Twilight. I simply borrow the characters and do things with them I'm sure she never anticipated!


A/N: Hello! You've all been so kind as to ask what was next for me…well, here it is. I hope you'll give it a chance. If I'm posting, you know the story is completed so it will be posted in its entirety…that is, if anyone reads it.

I'm giddy about a review I got on The Fictionators! I'm quite honored. So, if you're new to Samekraemer's world, here are a few things of note…I try not to prolong any issues because I don't want people freaking out. I'm a HEA girl, but how we get there isn't always clear, and I try to bring something new to every story.

For this one, Edward's POVs are odd. Bella's POVs are even. (Chapters I mean.)

They're telling the story together, and I've tried not to overlap so you don't get the same boring chapter again.

This is a long ass author's note, but I try not to do those. So, I look forward to your opinions.

Scorpio 11 is on board, so hopefully confusion and errors will be held to a minimum. SMeyer owns, I borrow. Now, go…




I walked down the hall toward my office and stopped when I heard the booming laugh of Emmett McCarty coming from the much-larger office next to mine. The guy was big as a fucking barn and gentle as a lamb. He didn't have to strong-arm anyone…all he had to do was show up and people agreed with whatever the fuck he said. It was no wonder he was a successful investment banker.

I waved as I walked by and heard a snap come from his direction. "Babe, hold on. Cullen, I'm on the phone with Rosie, and we wanna have you over for a cookout tomorrow. Sort of a welcome to Team McCarty. You got plans?" he asked.

I'd only been in Seattle for two weeks…one week to get settled into my new apartment, and then I started my job the next Monday. I didn't know anyone in town except for a few people who were in our branch office, so it sounded like fun. I was used to having friends, so it was definitely time to make some.

"Sure. I can bring something," I offered. I knew how to cook, and I could make some sides or a dessert. My momma taught me never to show up anywhere empty handed.

"Nah…I got one of the best cook's in the country living under my roof. What's that? Oh, she is? I thought that was supposed to stop by now. She's in her second trimester. Oh? Okay, I'll have Cullen make something then. Hang on," he continued with whoever was on the phone.

I saw him pick up a pad and begin jotting down a list of whatever was being dictated to him with a cursory "mmhmm" along the way. He looked upset, and then he tossed the pen down. "Are you sure that's normal? Should I leave and we can take her to the…oh. Yeah, I guess she'd be pissed if I know. Okay, Preparation H. Anything else? Okay, love you too. Bye," he responded, hanging up the phone. He tore the top sheet off the pad and folded it, slipping it into his shirt pocket.

"Come on in and have a seat while I type up directions to the house. So, if you don't mind making something to bring, I'd appreciate it. Sissy isn't coping with food too well right now, and Rosie can't boil water. I'll handle the grill and pick up some slaw and potato salad at the store. Maybe Sissy can doctor it up if she feels better tomorrow," he remarked cryptically as he typed away at his computer.

I'd been in training all week, but I'd chatted with Emmett a bit in the mornings before I went to my sessions. He was my team leader and the person with whom I'd interviewed both over the phone and in person. The job would be boring to start with...researching up-and-coming companies in order to provide Emmett with potential investment options for his clients…but it had the potential to grow into a lot more. I could see where working for Emmett would be interesting because he was a pretty colorful character, based on the limited interaction I'd had with him.

"Oh, um, is she ill?" I asked, having no idea who Sissy would be. I only noticed one framed photo on his desk, and it was of him and a beautiful, much-younger blonde at what I assumed was their wedding. He didn't wear a ring, but the couple was dressed in typical wedding attire…him in a tux, and the woman in a long white dress with a flower in her hair. I'd never been married and had only been to two weddings in my life, but based on what I'd seen on television, I assumed I was right.

"Sissy? No, she's not ill…well, in the sense I think you mean. She's pregnant with twins. We just got through the first trimester, but she's still suffering from morning sickness. Oh, and now, I guess hemorrhoids, based on the fact that I gotta pick up Preparation H at the grocery store. So, what kind of beer do you drink? Rosie isn't drinking in support of Sissy. Call me an unsympathetic bastard, but I like my beer. Sissy doesn't care, but Rosie bitches at me. So, what kind?" he asked.

I had no fucking idea who Sissy was or what the situation actually was, and since I wasn't nosey by nature, I wasn't going to play twenty questions. I just had to hope the story would come together when I met them. "Um, any kind, actually. I don't mind tryin'…trying microbrews or even just good old domestic. Based on my nearly non-existent knowledge of pregnant women, I know certain smells trigger nausea. Is there anything that this Sissy person can't be around?" I asked as politely as I could.

"You and the accent," he teased. He'd been teasing me all week about it. I'd gone to school in upstate New York, so it wasn't as thick as my parents or my sister, Tanya, and her Alabama-born husband, Andy, but it came out now and again.

"Hell, I think just about anything she smells makes her ill. The only thing the poor girl seems to be able to eat and keep down is grilled cheese, which she eats a couple times a day. Maybe that explains the Preparation H. Oh, would you not mention I told you about that when you come over tomorrow. She embarrasses easily, and with all the fucking hormones, I'd have a crying woman on my hands in about three seconds. I've also been accused of being an insensitive bastard," he laughed.

"So, um, you live with both of these women?" I asked. I couldn't take it anymore. I was dying to know what the hell was going on.

"Well, yeah, Sport. Rosie's my wife and Bella's my baby momma," he explained as nonchalantly as if he'd told me he was more of a dog person than cat.

"Who's Bella?" I asked. I was so fucking confused.

"Oh, I call Bella 'Sissy'. You can't believe how fucking brutal it can be to live with sisters, especially when one is carrying your babies," he clarified. Hell, if anything, I was more confused than ever.

"Babies? How many?" I asked. Seemed like a good place to start.

"Twins! We don't know the sexes yet, but we know they're healthy. That's all we care about," he gushed proudly, flipping an ultrasound picture at me as if I knew what the fuck I was looking at.

I didn't want to hurt the guy's feelings, so I studied the picture for a moment, and handed it back. "Congrats, Poppa!" I offered.

"Shit, I better get going. I'll be in the doghouse with them if I don't hurry up and get home. We'll see you tomorrow, Cullen," McCarty called as he plucked his suit jacket from behind his door and skirted out.

I sat in the chair in his office and thought about what he'd told me, and came to the only fucking conclusion I could. McCarty had gotten his sister-in-law pregnant. I didn't know if it was an affair, or if they were in some sort of plural marriage. I was tempted to cancel because I didn't want to be involved in a lot of drama, having just hit town, but my curiosity was fucking killing me, so I simply went to my office to close up for the day and go home to my lonely apartment.

If Emmett McCarty was with two women who were sisters, I was pretty sure his Friday night would be a lot more exciting than mine.


"Momma, you know that cheese-broccoli-rice thing that you make? Can you give me the recipe?" I asked. My mother, God love her, had been going on and on for fifteen minutes about my sister and her husband, my father's workaholic ways, and her business. I needed to go to the store and buy the ingredients, so I needed her to get to the part of the conversation where she actually took a breath. It was finally here.

"Oh, why?" she asked. I could make simple things, but following a recipe wasn't exactly something I was used to doing. Emmett had mentioned that Sissy, or Bella, could eat cheese, so I thought maybe the casserole might be up her alley.

"I'm goin'…going to a cookout at a co-workers house, and one of the, um, guests is pregnant. She's still enduring mornin'…morning sickness, but he said she eats grilled cheese, so I thought maybe she could eat the casserole," I explained, leaving out the part where I thought that maybe the woman was his other…whatever. I heard my mother laughing on the other end of the line. She knew I was trying to temper the accent, and it made her laugh every time I corrected myself.

Regarding the McCarty family, I'd stewed on the bare-bones facts he'd given me the day before and agreed with my initial assessment of the situation…Emmett was in a plural marriage with sisters, and one of them was pregnant. I did a little research on it the night before and found there was even a reality show with a family of four women and one man. I couldn't fathom having one woman in my life, much less two, or fuck, four.

"Aww, now, that's very considerate of you. Um, lemme find it. Grab a pen and paper," she instructed.

An hour later, I was in the kitchen of my apartment, having put the casserole together by following my mother's recipe to the letter because I didn't want to make anyone sick, especially the pregnant woman. I slid it into the oven to bake, and then I went to my spare room to run on the treadmill because it was raining like a mofo outside.

I contemplated how it would be to have a pregnant wife, much less a spare. It would take a lot of compromise and planning to be able to pull it off, and God forbid if either woman had a jealous streak. I deemed it wouldn't work for me, but I wouldn't pass judgment on Emmett McCarty and his wives. He was a great guy, and I wasn't judgmental by nature, so I vowed to reserve judgment until I had all the facts.


I stood on the front porch of a very large house in the Queen Anne neighborhood of Seattle. It was white brick with a meticulous lawn, which reminded me a lot of my parents' home in Atlanta. I rang the bell and waited. The door was snatched open which nearly caused me to drop the cake I'd bought at the store. I looked up to see the blonde woman I recognized from the photo. "How-do…I mean, hello ma'am. I'm Edward Cullen," I introduced myself. She smiled and stepped aside, inviting me inside.

"Welcome to our home. I'm Rosalie McCarty. Let me take that from you," she responded, taking the precariously balanced cake from my right hand.

"Sorry it's not homemade, but I had my hands full with the casserole. Emmett told me that Sis…Bella could keep down cheese, so I thought maybe my momma's broccoli-rice-cheese casserole might be to her liking," I explained as I followed her through the house to the kitchen.

I noticed Emmett was outside on a back deck, kneeling down by a chair in which a brunette was sitting with one foot up on another chair. Her ankle appeared to be wrapped in some sort of a bandage and he was talking to what I could only deduce were her boobs. The blonde didn't seem to be paying any attention as she opened the insulated carrier the casserole dish was in. She took a deep sniff of it and smiled, sliding it into a very fancy oven and pressing a few buttons.

"What can I get you to drink, Mr. Cullen? Emmett went a little crazy at the store and bought about eight different microbeers. Um, there's…well, maybe you'd rather look for yourself," she suggested as she opened the refrigerator. I saw a lot of bottles, but chose a local brew, Elysian's Manic IPA. She handed me an opener and turned back to making a cup of herbal tea.

"Thank you, Mrs. McCarty. Please, though, call me Edward. So, um, what's Emmett doing, exactly?" I asked, turning back to the sliding doors to see the brunette's head thrown back in hysterical laughter.

She glanced out and laughed. "That ass. He's talking to the babies. He says they need to get used to the volume of his voice so when they're born, they'll be able to sleep when he speaks in what Bella calls his inside voice. Most people would call it a stadium voice, but I'd guess having the office next to his you'd know that better than anyone," she explained.

I laughed with her because Emmett McCarty's voice did tend to carry. "Well, that's, um, I guess this is…well, it's wonderful the three of you are…maybe I should go out and meet Bella?" I stammered, not really knowing what the hell to say to her.

"Go on out. I'll be out in a minute," she instructed. I walked through the door just in time to hear the woman, Bella, say, "You stupid jackass. You cannot call these babies 'Hose-A' and 'Hose-B'. We have no idea if they're boys yet, so that's not a logical nickname."

"As illogical as it may be, I'd hate to have the therapy bills if they ever find out that their parents called them that," I joked as a way of making myself known.

Emmett looked up and laughed, pushing off the deck and patting the woman's stomach. "Boys, Daddy's gotta entertain now. We'll get back to the sex talk later," he commented, causing the woman to laugh again.

"Cullen, glad you could make it. I'd like you to meet my baby momma, Bella. Sissy, this is the latest boy genius to join Team McCarty, Edward Cullen. The boy's a bona fide southern gentleman, though he fights the accent. I'd guess it would get him laid in a heartbeat, but he keeps trying to lose it," Emmett teased.

I walked to where the woman was seated and extended my hand. "Edward Cullen. It's a pleasure to meet ya," I introduced, looking into the most beautiful eyes on the most beautiful face attached to the most gorgeous body I'd ever seen in my life. I felt my heart break in half at the idea she was taken. How a man like Emmett McCarty lucked out to win the hearts of two gorgeous women, I had no idea. The fucker must be magic in the sack.


E/N: Well, I await your verdict. The next chapter will post on Friday. If after you hear Bella's side of the story there's no interest, I'll let it slip away into that good night.

Thanks for reading.

Till next time…xoxo