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Dead Until Dark (Sookie Stackhouse #1)(57)

Author:Charlaine Harris

“Oh, Sookie, who is the man?”

Uh-oh. “Um, well, he’s not . . .”

“Not local? You dating one of those servicemen from Bossier City?”

“No,” I said hesitantly.

“Sam? I’ve seen him looking at you.”

“No.”

“Who, then?”

I was acting like I was ashamed. Straighten your spine, Sookie Stackhouse, I told myself sternly. Pay the piper.

“Bill,” I said, hoping against hope that she’d just say, “Oh, yeah.”

“Bill,” Arlene said blankly. I noticed Sam had drifted up and was listening. So was Charlsie Tooten. Even Lafayette stuck his head through the hatch.

“Bill,” I said, trying to sound firm. “You know. Bill.”

“Bill Auberjunois?”

“No.”

“Bill . . . ?”

“Bill Compton,” Sam said flatly, just as I opened my mouth to say the same thing. “Vampire Bill.”

Arlene was flabbergasted, Charlsie Tooten immediately gave a little shriek, and Lafayette about dropped his bottom jaw.

“Honey, couldn’t you just date a regular human fella?” Arlene asked when she got her voice back.

“A regular human fella didn’t ask me out.” I could feel the color fix in my cheeks. I stood there with my back straight, feeling defiant and looking it, I’m sure.

“But, sweetie,” Charlsie Tooten fluted in her babyish voice, “honey . . . Bill’s, ah, got that virus.”

“I know that,” I said, hearing the distinct edge in my voice.

“I thought you were going to say you were dating a black, but you’ve gone one better, ain’t you, girl?” Lafayette said, picking at his fingernail polish.

Sam didn’t say anything. He just stood leaning against the bar, and there was a white line around his mouth as if he were biting his cheek inside.

I stared at them all in turn, forcing them to either swallow this or spit it out.

Arlene got through it first. “All right, then. He better treat you good, or we’ll get our stakes out!”

They were all able to laugh at that, albeit weakly.

“And you’ll save a lot on groceries!” Lafayette pointed out.

But then in one step Sam ruined it all, that tentative acceptance, by suddenly moving to stand beside me and pull the collar of my shirt down.

You could have cut the silence of my friends with a knife.

“Oh, shit,” Lafayette said, very softly.

I looked right into Sam’s eyes, thinking I’d never forgive him for doing this to me.

“Don’t you touch my clothes,” I told him, stepping away from him and pulling the collar back straight. “Don’t tend to my personal life.”

“I’m scared for you, I’m worried about you,” he said, as Arlene and Charlsie hastily found other things to do.

“No you’re not, or not entirely. You’re mad as hell. Well listen, buddy. You never got in line.”

And I stalked away to wipe down the formica on one of the tables. Then I collected all the salt shakers and refilled them. Then I checked the pepper shakers and the bottles of hot peppers on each table and booth, the Tabasco sauce, too. I just kept working and kept my eyes in front of me, and gradually, the atmosphere cooled down.

Sam was back in his office doing paperwork or something, I didn’t care what, as long as he kept his opinions to himself. I still felt like he’d ripped the curtain off a private area of my life when he’d exposed my neck, and I hadn’t forgiven him. But Arlene and Charlsie had found make-work, as I’d done, and by the time the after-work crowd began trickling in, we were once again fairly comfortable with one another.

Arlene came into the women’s room with me. “Listen, Sookie, I got to ask. Are vampires all everyone says they are, in the lover department?”

I just smiled.

Bill came into the bar that evening, just after dark. I’d worked late since one of the evening waitresses had had car trouble. One minute he wasn’t there, and the next minute he was, slowing down so I could see him coming. If Bill had any doubts about making our relationship public, he didn’t show them. He lifted my hand and kissed it in a gesture that performed by anyone else would have seemed phony as hell. I felt the touch of his lips on the back of my hand all the way down to my toes, and I knew he could tell that.

“How are you this evening?” he whispered, and I shivered.

“A little . . .” I found I couldn’t get the words out.

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