He took my hands, giving me a stern look. It was his ‘disapproving-dad’ stare. “I said that it wasn’t funny. This is serious! Have you seen a picture of your ex-boyfriend? He’s a crazed, steroid-filled, emotionless monster with muscles on top of muscles and some fucking ugly facial hair. He could squash you like a bug, gorgeous. His hand could wrap around your teeny waist and he’d split you in two.”
“First off, my waist ain’t teeny. Having four children prevents my waist from ever being teeny,” I said, arching my brow at him. “Secondly, I’ll carry my handy-dandy can of Mace, my baton and rape whistle. Finally, need I remind you that, um, I’m going to be with Tim! Tall guy, has muscles of his own and is a few years younger than you Cullen.”
“You wound me, Bella,” he pouted. “I work out every day. Yes, my body isn’t as fit as it was but I can still kick some ass. Just ask Jasper or Demetri.”
“Angel, you and I both know that you are the hottest guy who is almost fifty, ever,” I said, tangling my fingers into his thick, bronze/gray hair.
“Must you remind me that I’m getting close to the half-century mark,” Edward growled. “I don’t feel old. Yes, I may have gray-ish hair, but I’m not old.”
“Sure, you geezer,” I snickered.