More Than Words Chapter 5
Disclaimer - I do not own Twilight or any of it's characters. No money is being made from the writing of this story. All rights belong to Stephanie Meyer.
Warning - This story contains Mature content. If you are under 18 or otherwise not a legal adult in your own country, state or city, please read no further.
A/N: Okay, last chapter for the night. I need to sleep sometime. 5 in one day. Enjoy. Soon we will get to the good parts we all want to see. :) Please review, I need to know I'm on the right track here.
Chapter beta'd by Sparagus, and revised.
Saturday morning came much too quickly. I had fallen asleep reading. Midway through a Dean Koontz novel I became bored and then picked up the next title in my ‘to read’ pile, Diane Whiteside’s, The Hunter’s Prey. There was nothing like a dirty little vampire romance to help one get a good night’s sleep, even if the stories were a little too fictional.
I glanced at the clock, seven A.M. Hopefully Charlie was still home and could offer up some semblance of entertainment for the day, whether it be fishing or watching the game it didn't matter. I'd take anything to keep my mind off of Edward for a few hours.
Hopefully it wouldn't be fishing. The last time he agreed to take me with him, I suffered from seasickness for three hours before I was even able to manage getting the hook through the slimy little sucker. Even that didn’t last long, as the second time I cast off, I ended up with the hook attached to my forearm.
Four hours in the emergency room, two stitches and a tetanus shot later, I was finally able to come home with Charlie’s promise to my mother to never take me out on the water again. I tried to tell her that the water had nothing to do with it, but she insisted. Since then, I’ve been landlocked on my mother’s orders. It was really probably for the best.
Officially ruling out fishing, I stretched out like a cat and then slowly swung off the bed. I grabbed a light blue, jean skirt out of the clean laundry basket and a slim fitting, red turtleneck. Once I dressed for the day, I made my way to the bathroom to brush my teeth and to hopefully get a brush through my tangle of tresses.
I guess mud masks only work on the face, I thought wryly.
Once done, I headed downstairs and noticed that the house was silent. I must have slept later than Charlie. When I rounded the corner into the kitchen, I was met with a note taped to the refrigerator.
Bells, I made you some French toast. It’s in the microwave. Just heat it up. I went fishing with some of the boys from work. I’ll be back late. Call if you need me. Love, Dad.
I opened the microwave and noticed that the toast didn’t look bad. I heated it for about forty-five seconds and sat down with a glass of orange juice to plan out my day.
I contemplated just how long I would cut him off from my company while I absentmindedly took a bite of the syrup-drenched toast. I quickly spat it out.
“Oh, God! Did you make this out of bread or rubber?” I quickly dumped the remains of my father’s failed attempt at a meal in the trash and reached into the cupboard to grab some pop-tarts.
“Mmm. S’mores, my favorite.”
I figured that if I was to have the house to myself for while I should do some much-needed dusting and cleaning.
I turned the stereo on and plugged in my iPod. Shuffling through it, I waited, impatiently for a song I might like. After what seemed an eternity, Linkin’ Park started up.
Ah. House cleaning music.
I had sat through twelve hours of Edward’s misery, and it was getting on my last nerve. I realized that it was in our nature to be protective of our mates, and not being able to see them is a depressing experience, but come on. It hadn't even been a day!
Maybe if you manned up and gave her a little, none of this would have had to happen.
My thoughts were met with a slamming door.
Yeah, brother. Your door will keep me out. Good one. Keep trying. Someday you’ll figure it out.
The agony and need radiating off of him was seriously getting to be too much.
Will you just rub one out already? Spare the rest of us your sulking?
In a split second he was in front of me.
“Do you need to be so crude?”
His eyes were dark from anger…and …was that desperation?
“No, sir. But I call ‘em like I see ‘em. You need to throw that little lady down and show her a good time. Soon.”
He ran his hand through his hair, clearly frustrated with me by this point.
“And not just for her, either,” I snickered.
I wonder if he could make himself go bald with all that hair pulling.
“I really don’t need to be having this conversation with you, Jasper. But, I will.”
I cocked my head at him, egging him on even more.
“You will what, Edward? Have this conversation or bend Bella over the nearest armrest?”
I couldn’t help but laugh at the myriad of expressions that crossed his face: disgust, contemplation, curiosity, desire, thirst, repulsion, jealousy, and finally, anger. Before I was able to react to the latter, my jaw was met with a solid right hook.
Bastard completely blindsided me.
I recoiled from the shock but figured I probably deserved it and shook it off.
“Not remotely. You are an ass.”
“Maybe, but at least my mate is currently talking to me. Why can’t you just give in to her? Just a little?”
“I could kill her.”
“True, but you’re getting married in what…thirteen days? That’s gonna be a pretty boring honeymoon if you don’t loosen up.”
He stalked off without comment. Somehow, something had to give. If he kept this up, there wouldn’t be a wedding. Then I’d have to deal with this drama for decades, possibly longer
Damn, I gotta get out of here.
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