Fran's Pick ... Neapolitan By: CiaraShayee

Fics for You!

He was the beautiful blond-haired stranger from the bar, and she was the pretty brunette bar-maid who couldn't resist him. Together, they burned. Apart, they were cold. As cold as the ice cream trickling over the fingers of a little boy with strawberry hair. There are a million different flavors of ice cream out there worth trying, or maybe just one; Neapolitan. Carlisle & Bella



He was the beautiful blond-haired stranger from the bar, and she was the pretty brunette barmaid who couldn't resist him. Together, they burned. Apart, they were cold. As cold as the ice cream trickling over the fingers of a little boy with strawberry hair. There are a million different flavors of ice cream out there worth trying, or maybe just one; Neapolitan.

~ oOo ~

Chapter One

August 27th, 2011 - BELLA

"Excuse me! Excuse me, Sir! You've left your…huh. All right then."

Bella picked up the wallet, looking up just in time to see the back of its owner as he left the bar. It had been a busy night, so she hadn't even gotten a good look at his face. If he came back looking it was pretty unlikely she'd recognize him.

"Hey Bells, what'cha got there?"

"Wallet. Some guy left it behind. I'll put it in the lost and found before I lock up."

Bella loved her job at Jake's bar but it wasn't exactly helping her pay off any of her crippling student loans. Everyone encouraged kids to go to college, but it seemed nobody wanted to help pay off the debts it engendered.

At eighteen, Bella had planned to own her own business one day. But at twenty-four, she was nowhere near that goal. She was currently working five nights a week at JBs, the other two at a grill down the street.

Laden with a mop, bucket, and a boatload of self-professed singing talent, Bella got to work on the floor, So lost in her duet with Johnny Cash was she, that Bella didn't notice the click of the doors opening forty minutes later, or the soft clearing of a throat until it was repeated.

"Holy shit on a cracker!" She gasped, spinning around.

So, something about Bella you should know; she was clumsy. Almost morbidly so.

With that in mind, it was no surprise to Bella when her food caught a wet patch, and her flailing legs sent her crashing to the floor, taking the mop bucket with her.

"Ow," Bella groaned, grimacing at the feel of dirty, cocktail-floor water seeping into her t-shirt and jeans. Everything hurt, and she already knew the phone number in her back pocket would now be illegible. Not that she was that sad about it; the guy it belonged to, a regular patron at JBs, was a bit too gothic for her taste.

"I am so sorry! I was trying not to make you jump. Obviously failed there, Cullen. Well done."

Despite her predicament, Bella couldn't help but snort in amusement at the guy mumbling to himself. She peered up at him, now crouching over her prone form, and tried – failing miserably – to hide the crimson flush spreading over her entire face.

He was beautiful.

Like, not in the womanly way. But he had the most artfully designed face she'd ever seen. A strong, angular jaw, covered with a healthy growth of dark blond scruff and a pair of oh-so-kissable lips – currently pursed in a wince. His nose was annoyingly straight, settled between a pair of piercing, gray-blue eyes, and a thick set of brows groomed to perfection.

In hindsight, attempting to push herself up on the wet wood was a dumb idea. With her brain scrambled by the stranger's closeness, this notion didn't occur to her until she was already careening back towards the floor; this time, taking said stranger with her. They landed amidst the puddle of dirty mop water in a tangle of limbs, emitting a series of grunted curses and groans.

"Oh, Jesus, Mary, and Joseph," Bella whined.

"I'm so, so sorry. God, I knew I should've just left it 'til tomorrow. It's not like I need my wallet tonight, anyway."

A lightbulb went on.

"Ah, so you're the guy in the booth. Your wallet's behind the bar."

Dammit, why do guys always have better brows than me? Bella wondered idly, torn between wanting to smack this guy, ask him where he got his eyebrows done, and wanting to kiss him stupid.

"Miss? Are you okay? Did you hit your head?"

And he's got a gorgeous voice, to boot. Fuck a duck.

"I'm good!" She chimed. "Sorry, let me just—"

"All right, seeing as I'm on top of you already, introductions. I'm Bella Swan, Finder Of Wallet."

He chuckled, the sound making Bella's stomach twist pleasantly. "Carlisle Cullen, Loser Of Wallet. And apparently, Menace To Pretty Bartenders.”

PS ... Carlisle IS NOT her father in law or anything like that. This is an adorable fic with great characters and one of the best Swan families, ever.

Click here to read Neapolitan.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12751061/1/Neapolitan