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More Than Words	By : coffeemuse Category: Twilight Series > Het > Bella/Jasper Views: 11890 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or make any money from this story.

Chapter List
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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.
A/N: I welcome con/crit. See a spelling error, bad verb tenses, ridiculous comma splice? Let me know. Trust me, I can take it. If you like what you see, tell me. It motivates me when the story muse wants me to give up.
Chapter beta'd by Sparagus, and revised.
BPOV
Day one of the Edward freeze-out was finally over, and Charlie would be home any time now. I had dusted, polished and scrubbed just about every available surface in the house, and I knew that Alice was going to flip when she saw what a mess I had made of my nails, but that was the cost of using steel wool.
I had managed to keep Edward off my mind...mostly, but as the day wound down, I found that it was getting a little harder to keep him out of my thoughts.
After a quick shower to rid myself of twenty years of house dust and grime, I curled up in bed with my book.
Maybe I was just being childish. I wasn't sure. There were just some human experiences I would have liked to have before I was turned. I wished that he could see that. Maybe if it were something that he had experienced, it would be easier to explain to him why I feel so strongly about this.
To not be able to ever experience that rush of passion while I still had blood in my veins was a mixed blessing and curse. The same reason I wanted to try was the exact reason he felt that we couldn't. I knew that the endorphins I would release would make me feel great, sure, but the added scent could send Edward into a feeding frenzy. If I added in the fact that he was as much a virgin as I was...well…so maybe it would be easier if he knew what to expect.
I mentally listed the pros and cons of my current state of being: ‘sexually frustrated/sex-crazed bride-to-be,’ for a few more hours. The outcome always seemed the same. I would blindly walk down the isle into the arms of the man I wanted to spend forever with, whether or not he decided to keep his end of the bargain.
I heard Charlie come home around 2:30 A.M. By the sounds of his blundering in the dark, I knew he had tied on a few too many cold ones. It was good for him to relax a little. Being the police chief was stressful enough for him. Add in the impending marriage of his only child and her subsequent demise, not that he knew that yet, and he had a lot on his plate.
It seemed like sleep planned to evade me tonight. My mind was consumed with the possibilities and pit falls that being a young wife might entail.
Is this feeling what everyone refers to as cold feet?
After I heard my father snoring off his late night, I made my way downstairs, hoping that a cup of tea might help me sleep sometime tonight. With a big cup of Chamomile and two squeezes of honey, I headed back to my room.
A howl in the distance brought me out of my musings. I went to the window and peered out into the night. There, at the edge of the tree line, was a large wolf. Even in the darkness, I had a feeling I knew who it was. I opened the window a few inches and peered out.
“Goodnight, Seth.”
He yipped up at my window and took off into the trees once more. Even with the threat of Victoria gone, the wolves had still been keeping an eye out. It seemed even more so since someone sent a wedding invitation to Jacob’s house. I knew they were waiting for a screw up. I just had to make sure all bases were covered so that didn’t happen and the long held treaty stayed intact.
I shut the window and curled up under my covers, and once again, reached for my trusty vampire romance anthology. It may not be accurate, but damn was it hot.
About midway through an extra steamy story, I felt the familiar ache begin between my legs. I continued to read, but the subject matter fueled my need, and it wasn’t long before I realized I would have to take care of this, pronto.
I stuck a tissue between the pages of the book to save the spot and reached down under the bed for the little box in which I kept ‘Fred’. Yes, Fred.
Fred was a gift from Renee for my eighteenth birthday. Thankfully, she sent it in an unmarked box, and Charlie was none the wiser. The note she enclosed was short: For those long, cold nights in Forks.
Little did she know when sending it to me that ‘long’ and ‘cold’ were not things I would ever again be able to equate with loneliness, at least, not after Edward came back to me. Not that I had any experience it that area, but I did try to put it in the freezer once. It made the batteries act all wonky.
With a resounding click, I turned Fred on, and the low hum immediately set my body on alert with anticipation of what was to come. I reached over for the book.
Now, where was I?
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