We don't own Twilight. What we do own is Alcohol and Adipex, so let's do this.
It's muthafuckin' story time, bi-... I mean, Fran.
~*~ GriNd ~*~
"You did what?" I ask, dropping both Bella and my bags.
"I'll get those, sir." Emmett bends down to hoist both duffles, throwing one over each shoulder with that goofy grin on his face. I just stand there, taking turns staring at the both of them, my mouth hanging wide open in unadulterated shock. I can't believe Sunny has the nerve to smile herself, those sorry, not sorry brown eyes peeking up at me from under long, lush lashes. It takes everything I have not to do it myself.
That fucking smile.
That aggravatingly undeniable, beautiful fucking smile.
"You need protection," she adorably insists, and I fight the urge to huff and roll my eyes. "Emmett was telling me all these horror stories of junk grabbing and your poor foot." Briefly pouting down at my beat-up Vans, she looks back up, reaching out to run her fingers through my hair, and God help me, my starry eyes roll all the way to the back of my head. Her touch is narcotic, spreading throughout my stomach and dissolving into my veins. I feel warm and right and oh-so happy. It's a rush, her touch. The best kind.
I can't deny her, not when she begs, not when she breathes. I can't deny her anything, ever, never. Never, ever.
"Okay, whatever," I give in 'cause who am I kidding? She'll always win.
Those magical fingers of hers press into the back of my neck, bending me so she can kiss my lips. I wrap one arm around her little waist, pulling her against me, as my free hand captures her jaw. My tongue tests her with its tip, the greedy thing practically shoving itself down her sweet throat when she opens with the slightest moan. I can feel it in my chest, the vibrations playing my all-time favorite tune against my bones.
This trip seems to have stirred something inside of her, or maybe it's the sex. It was, is amazing.
To be honest, I'm not totally sure what it is.
All I know is I like it. I love it. I will not quote Billy Ray Cyrus, or whoever the fuck.
The flight home is just as good as the flight in. Bella's high as a kite again. I chuckle at her ramblings while I toy with her long, silky hair, nudging my nose into the crook of her neck not only to sniff in sweet sea-salt skin, but to make her giggle.
My second favorite sound.
The third is that gasp I hear when we pull into the drive and she spots our families on my back patio, all there, waiting for her, for us.
She looks at me as if she can't believe it. The awe in her features morphing into a pinched sign of pain. I think maybe she's going to cry, or maybe she's not ready to meet my parents. I hope she's ready. I'm hoping she's not going to cry when she lunges across the seat to wrap her arms around my neck, those long, gingerbread legs spreading to straddle my lap. I hardly even hear Emmett's laughter in the background as her mouth crashes into mine. Her lips are soft, but firm in their purpose. No tongue. No tension. It's a thank you, the sweetest expression.
"I can't believe you invited them," she says quietly against my lips, and I want to ask her why not, but I also don't want to put her on the spot. The moment's just too perfect, and I want her to be comfortable. I want her to know that I'm comfortable being around everyone that she loves because I love her and I want to do more than just tell her. I want to show her. I want her to hear it, see it, feel it. I want her to know, like really know it. Like, really really.
My smile practically rips my face in two when she climbs off of me, scurrying to get out the door and jump into her sister's arms. It's clear how much they truly love and enjoy each other's company, all of them. They're a sea of tanned skin and pearly-white teeth as they all hug and kiss, her sister surprisingly embracing me, laying a kiss on my cheek.
"This is the happiest I've ever seen her," she whispers. "Thank you."
My heart swells at the notion, she leaves me speechless as she joins the rest of our conjoined families, all gathering around the back patio table. My Sunny's surrounded, locked inside the arms of my doting mother. She's showing her off to my father, touching her cheeks, her hair, looking straight at my girl like she's the answer to all her prayers. I take the opportunity to help Emmett unload the bags and get the food ready to grill. All the while, I can't get that burning sensation out of my eyes, can't wipe the smile off of my face. I'm pretty sure I'm humming, so I don't even hear the flip flops flapping across the kitchen until their owner slaps me on the back, causing me to drop the biggest steak on the floor.
His knees crack as he bends to pick it up, chuckling to himself while running the piece of meat under the faucet and handing it back over. "Sorry 'bout that."
Smirking unbelievably, I shake my head. "No worries," I assure. "That one was yours."
His bark of a laugh causes me to jump, but I quickly recover, trying to keep the grimace off of my face when he slaps his hand back down on my shoulder and gives it a good squeeze. "S'alright by me. Adds flavor," he shoots back, and I cringe with another slap to the shoulder. Resting his hand there, he tips back the rest of his Corona then hands it to me with a sigh. "Now, point me in the direction of your bathroom, son."
Once he slips and calls me son it's as if Bella's dad and I instantly bond and become BBFs (Best buds forever). Emmett takes my place as his nemesis since he's taken such a shine to Esme, Charlie's other, older, is-capable-of-making-her-own-damn-decisions daughter.
Of course I don't tell him any of this. I'd much rather it be Emmett than me, so I just listen.
"You known this Emmett long? He a good guy? Well, is he saving up? Does this bodyguard business come with insurance and a retirement plan?"
I nod where I should, smiling every once in awhile at Bella from across the still-empty pool. Her and Alice are sitting on the side by side, giggling and squealing, both pulling their feet from the edge when Jasper glides up the side and reaches out to grab them. The sight's so sweet and silly that even Stretch wears a smile, strategically hiding it behind the neck of his bottle.
I'm wholly in the moment, feeling the cool breeze and smelling the salty air that blows in from the roll of the sea. I'm the last one to notice that all's gone quiet, catching Bella's wide-eyed stare and following it to not-so-surprisingly see Carlisle standing at the top of the steps that lead to the beach.
Have you noticed that all the titles of our collabs sound like B-rated slashers? lol Well, I did, ever since we actually wrote one. We're also convinced that it's now our forte and could very well, at any moment, off any one of these characters you love so dearly.
Or am I... *creepy pointed stare*
Alcohol and Adipex, bi- ... I mean, lovely reviewers ;)