When man-whore, foul-mouthed Edward's life takes an unexpected turn, he's left with a baby to raise. With the help of a friendly neighbor, he learns sometimes the unexpected could be the best thing that's ever happened. All Human.
What is hotter than a good dad? Probably not much if you're a mother. You know what I'm talking about ladies, right? Your husband can be covered in manure from seeding the lawn, wearing a ten year old track shirt, but the second he picks up his kid and swings him around, smiling and laughing, you want to throw down in the bedroom. Just me? No? Good.
The author of this fic does something very smart. She redeems Edward's past by making him a very good dad, in that he tries. He's on his own in this (and the reason will break your heart). What I find most excellent is that we don't have five chapters of what a man-whore Edward is. I hate that. I know what a man-whore is. I don't want to see how despicable he is. A few paragraphs and references will suffice, thanks. And that's what Anhanninen does. She gives us more of what we want -- Daddyward!
And that's not to say that he doesn't make some douche-y moves, because he does. Poor guy is lonely. He has needs. But he's not going to get them from neighbor, confidant, and the closest thing he has to a baby guru for his kid. Bella's a teacher by trade and knows what to do. Being kind-hearted (and needing to see the cute boy across the hall, probs), she helps Edward out when his daughter is particularly needy, and a romance strikes, slow and steady.
The side characters in this fic, namely his sister, Rosalie, are excellent and realistic. Thank you!
This fic was funny, sweet and heartwarming. Seeing Edward with daughter, Sofia, melted me. If you need a quick read with lots of swoon and an adorable, clueless Edward, this is the fic for you.
Team Jacob safe.
Low smut.
I sat back on the couch and ran my hands through my hair. The clock said it was almost one in the morning, and I was starting to feel it. I wanted my parents to hurry the fuck up. I'd put her to sleep, and then get some sleep of my own. Tomorrow we'd do the paternity test, and soon after that I'd know if this would be permanent.
It was probably really fucking wrong of me to not want the little one to be mine, but she'd ruin my life. Just one evening with her, and I was about to stick my head in a fucking oven. I couldn't do this. I couldn't have a kid. She'd be fucked up beyond belief if I tried to raise her.
When my parents did finally get back, my eyes bulged. Apparently, a few huge boxes and a shit ton of bags were just "necessities". There was a swing, a bouncer, the portable crib, bags of clothes, diapers, bottles, and more formula. My apartment looked like a fucking zoo of shit when they were done.
"These are necessities?" I asked.
"Well, not the swing and bouncer, but she'll like those," Mom said, smiling. "Is she asleep?"
She went around to the other side of the coffee table to look at the little one. She oohed and aahed at the baby.
"Did she give you any issues?" she asked.
"Holy shit, yes," I sighed.
"You need to start watching your language with a baby around," she said. "Now what happened?"
"She was wet."
"You changed her diaper?" She smiled. "All on your own?"
I scoffed. "Yeah, right. My new neighbor came over and helped. She heard the non-stop screaming."
"That was nice of her. Well, this little sweetie looks peaceful now," she said, kissing the little one's forehead.
"About time."
"Go help your father set up the crib in your room. I'll watch her."
"It needs to be in my room? I have a spare bedroom."
She rolled her eyes. "It's going in your room. I didn't find a baby monitor I liked, so you need to be near her until we actually go shopping."
Once the crib was set up, the little one decided to wake up again and cry. Mom just said she was hungry, so she took me into the kitchen and showed me how to make the bottle.
"She took four ounces last time, so we'll try that again," Mom said. "She'll need to eat every few hours. It's been three hours since last time and that's about normal."
"Every three hours?" I asked. "When do I sleep?"
"When she does." She smiled. "You'll get used to it."
"Great," I sighed as she handed me the bottle to test.
It seemed fine to me, but she checked it again. Apparently, I was right. I wasn't a total fail at knowing a good bottle temperature. Go me. We went back into the living room, and I sat down on the couch. Mom passed me the baby and told me to feed her. It was . . . an experience.
All I knew was that I was still fucking clueless and this kid and I were both screwed unless I figured some shit out. I already felt like I needed to kiss my life goodbye. The chances she was my kid were good. In fact, I was pretty sure she was.
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