The Lemonade Stand has spent so many years bringing you the best the Twilight fandom has to offer, and we are very excited to have the chance to offer you even MORE. We've watched stories grow and develop from first post through COMPLETE, and now we're lucky enough to share previews of the stories that will soon be your new addiction.
This week, we are happy to feature anhanninen, author of Fatherhood, Formula, and Other F Words, What’s Left of Me, and The Second Time Around. She’s sharing a preview of her upcoming new fic Cravings.
banner by anhanninen
Cravings
by
anhanninen
Summary: Cravings are a perfectly normal part of pregnancy. Knocking on your new neighbor’s door with a plate, asking for whatever they’re cooking, though, is not. Bella’s tiny human insists on whatever Edward is cooking, anytime he cooks, and the handsome neighbor can’t say no to his beautifully glowing neighbor. M AH
~xOoOx~
“Hey, uh … this is going to be weird,” I say, laughing nervously as I clutch the plate to my stomach. “As you can probably tell, there’s a tiny human growing inside of me.” I show my bump off, turning to the side. “And she really wants whatever you made because it smells incredible. Again, this is weird. She made me come and ask this, and I would never do this if I weren’t being controlled by hormones and such, but, uh, yeah, please?”
His lip curls into a cute crooked smile, and I melt a little. Fuck, he’s really, truly probably the most handsome man I’ve ever laid eyes on. Sorry, Matthew McConaughey. He regards me for a moment, moving his eyes between the drool most likely dripping from my chin and the plate against my stomach, before busting out laughing and nodding his head. “I, uh, can’t say no to a pregnant woman. I see you brought your own plate.”
“Is it soup? Should I go get a bowl?”
“No, a plate works,” he says, stepping back and holding the door open for me. “I’m Edward, by the way. Excuse the mess—I’m still moving in.”
I shrug, knowing what it’s like as I tell him my name. After I found out my baby daddy didn’t want a baby, I hauled ass out of Seattle pretty quickly, and it took me a while to make Port Angeles my home. That’s a story for another time though. I’m happy, I’m pregnant, and I’m about to eat the best smelling thing in the entire world. God, I hope it tastes as good as it smells. I’m salivating at the thought.
“So, what exactly is it that smells so good? I swear it wafted next door and my nose went straight into the air. You must be an incredible chef.”
He chuckles, leading me into the kitchen, which is slightly more put together. “Hardly. It’s a family recipe from my mom’s side. Paprika Chicken. I’ve always thought it was one of the best things I’ve ever had, so I’m glad your tiny human agrees.”
I nod, placing my plate on his island counter as I slide onto one of his stools. “She definitely does. I am sorry for barging in on you. It’s just that I keep my kitchen window open because holy hot spells, and the smell drifted over, and well, I’ve kinda lost my mind a little lately. I like your house, by the way. I took the tour when Mr. Crane put it up for sale. That bathtub looks to die for.”
“Haven’t gotten a chance to try it yet,” he says, bringing the pan over and putting a chicken breast on my plate. He grabs a fork from a drawer and holds it out to me. “Give it a taste. I have to know if it’s as good as it smells to you.”
I don’t mind if I do and quickly dig in. My. God. It’s exactly what I’ve been craving and can never quite satisfy. The sounds coming from me probably terrify Edward, but I can’t help it. I’m in heaven. “Mhmmmmmygosh,” I mumble with my mouth full. Swallowing, I try that again. “Holy shit, this is incredible.”
He just grins, taking a bite from his own plate. “Tiny human agree?”
“Give it like two minutes and she’ll start doing somersaults.” I laugh, waiting for the incredible feeling. “You’re an amazing cook. Do you do this for a living? Because you should.”
He shakes his head. “Nah, I’m really not that good. My mom taught me how to make it before I moved out because it was always my favorite dish. It’s not all that hard if you want the recipe.”
“Please. And give her my compliments; she taught you well. Did she also teach you not to deny things to hangry pregnant woman?”
“Oh, yeah, I learned that one when she was pregnant with my little sister.” He chuckles, running a hand through his bronze hair. It’s wild but perfect for him and falls effortlessly back into place as his hand drops. “So, Bella, tell me a little about yourself. What do you do when you’re not hunting for delicious meals?”
I feel my cheeks heat up as I shake my head. “This is the first time; I swear!”
“Sure it is,” he teases. “But I’m glad you came over. I haven’t had a chance to meet anyone in the neighborhood yet.”
“That’s surprising. Mrs. Jamison usually greets newbies with her god-awful fruitcakes. Even in summer when I moved in, she gave out the worst Christmas dessert possible.”
“Ah, no, she actually did leave that on my doorstep while I was at work. I just blocked it from my memory because it looked horrific.”
I laugh softly, finishing the last unbelievably amazing piece of chicken and savoring it as the somersaults start. “You have no idea how happy and satisfied you just made this pregnant woman and tiny human.”
“Do you want more?” He pulls the baking dish over, and I shake my head.
“I couldn’t impose anymore. I mean, I could. Obviously, I’m very good at imposing, but I do want to sleep tonight without a volcano spewing from my mouth.” I realize how disgusting that sounds once it leaves my lips and groan. “Sorry. My filter isn't the best lately.”
He shakes his head, waving me off. “You couldn’t gross me out if you tried. Iron stomach.” He proves his point by grabbing another chicken breast and digging in. “How far along are you, if you don’t mind my asking?”
I grin, rubbing my bump. “Twenty-six weeks and two days. She’s loving your chicken, by the way, and very much appreciates your kindness. Seriously, somersaults.” I laugh. At first, the feeling was so strange and foreign, but now, I live for these movements. She’s snug as a bug and perfectly safe and happy in there.
He lifts his hand tentatively—a motion I’ve most witnessed in sweet old ladies—and I scoot a little closer to grab it, laying it on my side where she’s most active. He laughs softly and moves his hand in a slow circle. “Yeah, I’d say she’s pleased with herself. That’s incredible, Bella. Thank you,” he says earnestly as I notice something in his eyes. A sadness I’ve seen myself, in fact. I nod as he takes his hand away and quickly plops the last chicken breast on my plate. “Now, I insist you take this home. Maybe the craving will hit you again tomorrow for lunch or something.”
I could say no, but it was super delicious, and I’m a hungry penguin lady. It seems like I’ve taken a Hobbit-type eating style. Breakfast, second breakfast, elevensies, luncheon, and so on. Who knows when the urge for the spicy dish will strike again? My daddy always told me not to look a gift horse in the mouth, so I don’t and agree.
~xOoOx~
Remember to put anhanninen on alert. Cravings will begin posting November 1!
