“Wow,” I whispered. I blinked and felt the third set of contact lenses disintegrate.
The sound of the piano cut off, and Edward’s arms were around my waist, his chin resting on my shoulder.
“You took the word right out of my mouth.”
“Edward, I did it!”
“You did. You were unbelievable. All that worrying over being a newborn, and then you skip it altogether.” He laughed quietly.
“I’m not even sure she’s really a vampire, let alone a newborn,” Emmett called from under the stairs. “She’s too tame.”
All the embarrassing comments he’d made in front of my father sounded in my ears again, and it was probably a good thing I was holding Renesmee. Unable to help my reaction entirely, I snarled under my breath.
“Oooo, scary,” Emmett laughed.
I hissed, and Renesmee stirred in my arms. She blinked a few times, then looked around, her expression confused. She sniffed, then reached for my face.
“Charlie will be back tomorrow,” I assured her.
“Excellent,” Emmett said. Rosalie laughed with him this time.
“Not brilliant, Emmett,” Edward said scornfully, holding out his hands to take Renesmee from me. He winked when I hesitated, and so, a little confused, I gave her to him.
“What do you mean?” Emmett demanded.
“It’s a little dense, don’t you think, to antagonize the strongest vampire in the house?”
Emmett threw his head back and snorted. “Please!”
“Bella,” Edward murmured to me while Emmett listened closely, “do you remember a few months ago, I asked you to do me a favor once you were immortal?”
That rang a dim bell. I sifted through the blurry human conversations. After a moment, I remembered and I gasped, “Oh!”
Alice trilled a long, pealing laugh. Jacob poked his head around the corner, his mouth stuffed with food.
“What?” Emmett growled.
“Really?” I asked Edward.
“Trust me,” he said.
I took a deep breath. “Emmett, how do you feel about a little bet?”
He was on his feet at once. “Awesome. Bring it.”
I bit my lip for a second. He was just so huge.
“Unless you’re too afraid… ?” Emmett suggested.
I squared my shoulders. “You. Me. Arm-wrestling. Dining room table. Now.”
Emmett’s grin stretched across his face.
“Er, Bella,” Alice said quickly, “I think Esme is fairly fond of that table. It’s an antique.”
“Thanks,” Esme mouthed at her.
“No problem,” Emmett said with a gleaming smile. “Right this way, Bella.”
I followed him out the back, toward the garage; I could hear all the others trailing behind. There was a largish granite boulder standing up out of a tumble of rocks near the river, obviously Emmett’s goal. Though the big rock was a little rounded and irregular, it would do the job.
Emmett placed his elbow on the rock and waved me forward.
I was nervous again as I watched the thick muscles in Emmett’s arm roll, but I kept my face smooth. Edward had promised I would be stronger than anyone for a while. He seemed very confident about this, and I felt strong. That strong? I wondered, looking at Emmett’s biceps. I wasn’t even two days old, though, and that ought to count for something. Unless nothing was normal about me. Maybe I wasn’t as strong as a normal newborn. Maybe that’s why control was so easy for me.
I tried to look unconcerned as I set my elbow against the stone.
“Okay, Emmett. I win, and you cannot say one more word about my sex life to anyone, not even Rose. No allusions, no innuendos—no nothing.”
His eyes narrowed. “Deal. I win, and it’s going to get a lot worse.”
He heard my breath stop and grinned evilly. There was no hint of bluff in his eyes.
“You gonna back down so easy, little sister?” Emmett taunted. “Not much wild about you, is there? I bet that cottage doesn’t have a scratch.” He laughed. “Did Edward tell you how many houses Rose and I smashed?”
I gritted my teeth and grabbed his big hand. “One, two—”
“Three,” he grunted, and shoved against my hand.
Nothing happened.
Oh, I could feel the force he was exerting. My new mind seemed pretty good at all kinds of calculations, and so I could tell that if he wasn’t meeting any resistance, his hand would have pounded right through the rock without difficulty. The pressure increased, and I wondered randomly if a cement truck doing forty miles an hour down a sharp decline would have similar power. Fifty miles an hour? Sixty? Probably more.
It wasn’t enough to move me. His hand shoved against mine with crushing force, but it wasn’t unpleasant. It felt kind of good in a weird way. I’d been so very careful since the last time I woke up, trying so hard not to break things. It was a strange relief to use my muscles. To let the strength flow rather than struggling to restrain it.