Overpass Chapter 8

Excerpt from chapter 8 . . .

“Sometimes I think Edward was born into the wrong family. I love my sister, but she’s . . . there’s no way to say it. She’s pretentious and boring and doesn’t have a nurturing bone in her body. Poor Edward. And that man of hers? Snore. Edward must be so lonely there. I’m surprised he didn’t come running to us sooner.”

“I wouldn’t have minded that.”

“I bet,” she says, laughing.

“What are we betting about?” Edward asks, waltzing in, dressed and ready to go. He snags his wallet from the counter and situates his chain appropriately. I love that chain. I like to tug on it until he gets irritated and kisses me.

“We’re betting about how long it will take Carlisle to notice I painted the bathroom.” She lies easily. One more reason to admire her.

“You painted the bathroom?” he asks.

She elbows him, and he wraps his arms around her shoulders, giving her a squeeze. She lifts her spoon for him to take a bite, and he hums appreciatively. “Why can’t my mom cook like this?”

“Why cook when you have the money to eat out regularly? I wouldn’t,” she says.

“Yes, you would,” Edward says. “’Cause you’re cool like that. And by cool, I mean human.”

“You hear that, Bella? I’m cool. And human.”

“I know. I’ve known forever. It’s Alice who’s in denial about the coolness. Although between you and me, it’s Carlisle that’s more embarrassing to her.”

She holds her spoon up, close to her chest, grinning with pride.

Edward leans down and licks it.

“Ugh. Now I have to clean it,” she whines, but her grin belies her words. She loves having Edward here as much as I do.

“It was going to drip.” He goes to the fridge and pulls out the juice, taking a swig from the container.

“I see that,” she says, washing her spoon.

“How is that possible?”

“I had three teenage sons, Edward. I know everything that happens in this house.” She turns to face us and points her spoon between the two us. Oh my gosh.