Wednesday, June 25, 2014

A Ilha do Amor Teaser

“Bella, we are so joining the Mile High Club for real. Perhaps on our honeymoon?” I suggested.

“On our way back. I do not want our first time as husband and wife to be in a tiny, smelly airplane bathroom,” Bella said. I could just picture her, arching her brow at me and giving me the stink eye.

“Our first time as husband and wife will be exactly as I described it in that letter, my gorgeous girl,” I smiled. 
“And it will not be in a tiny, smelly airplane bathroom. I’m thinking more along the lines of a king-sized bed with mosquito netting, candles, you, me and our love.”

“Yeah, that was cheesy, Edward,” Bella giggled.

“Work with me, Swan. The last time I slept was Sunday night,” I snorted. “How are you doing?”

“I’m okay, I guess. I miss you something terrible. It’s weird sleeping in the bed without you there, hogging most of it,” she chuckled.

“I do not hog the bed. I just want to get as close to you as possible,” I argued.

“And you do. I miss it,” she sighed. “Okay, Cullen. I’ve got an article that I need to finish. Miranda needs me to post this before six tonight. It’s a follow up article to the school testing one I did last month. As much as I would love to continue talking to you, I have to get my work done. I miss you. I love you and let’s set up a Skype date for Friday?”

“Done!” I said, pumping my fist. “I love you, my Bella.”

“I love you more,” she murmured. “Talk to you later.” With a few more utterances of adoration, we hung up. I pulled out Bella’s t-shirt, cradling it to my body and within seconds, I was down for the count.

Unfortunately, my sleep was not restful. I was plagued with nightmares. Ghosts of hookups past tried to finagle their way into my life with Bella. The most predominate ghost was Victoria, followed by Lauren, but most of my dreams ripped Bella and I apart, shattering my soul. Get a grip, Edward. You’re not Skankward anymore. You’re Bella’s Edward. I tried, in vain, to go back to sleep but ended up watching some infomercials in Portuguese. When my alarm went off at seven, I dragged my body to the bathroom and washed off the sweat and grime from my troubled sleep. Dressing in a pair of khakis and a light weight linen shirt, I went to the buffet. Alice was already there with my very pregnant sister-in-law.

“Emmett was right. You do look like you swallowed a beach ball,” I chuckled, kissing Rose on the cheek. “You look beautiful.”

“Fuck you, Edward. I’m sore. I’m cranky. I’m horny. I have cankles and I want to meet my baby,” Rose said, rubbing her stomach.

“Cankles? What the hell are cankles?” I asked.

She propped her foot on my leg. “My ankles have disappeared, morphing directly into my calves. Cankles,” she said, leaving her foot there. “Rub.”

“Rose, I love you and I love my future niece or nephew, but I’m not rubbing your feet while I eat my breakfast,” I deadpanned.

“No, my calf. I’ve got a cramp and I can’t bend down,” she replied. “Please?” I nodded, massaging her calf and earning some pretty pornographic moans from my brother’s wife.

“Okay, I’d like to keep my dick intact. If Emmett heard you, I’d be a eunuch,” I shuddered, patting her leg. “No sex sounds, Rosalie.”

“Sorry. Your piano playing fingers are much better at that then Emmett’s,” Rose said, lowering her leg. She looked at me, sipping her tea. “You look like shit, Edward. Did you sleep?”

“Yeah, Edward. I thought you were exhausted,” Alice said.

“I was, but I had some freaky nightmares,” I cringed. “Ghosts of my previous life…”

“Ahhh,” they both replied.

“I need to get some coffee. Do you want anything while, I’m up?” I asked. Rose handed me her ‘order’ from the buffet. She had the weirdest cravings but I’d get them for her, along with my own omelet and coffee. Walking back with a tray with a coffee carafe and our meals, I sat down, digging into my breakfast. “I forgot how good Jorge’s omelets were.”

“They are the nectar of the gods,” Rose said as she dug into one of her two omelets she requested. One had corned beef hash, cheddar cheese and red peppers. The other had all sorts of mushrooms and anchovies. I wrinkled my nose as she slurped up an anchovy. “Don’t be giving me shit, Edward. I love my omelets.”

“It’s just an interesting combo,” I said, digging into my own veggie omelet. “Anchovies?”

“Great for constipation,” she answered. 

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