Chapter 83


I could hear that Sookie was still in the shower when I came out of my room and the thought crossed my mind wondering why she wasn’t sharing my room with me, but the thought about going in there to take another one with her, even though I’d just finished my own, overrode the first one quickly. I probably would have if that fucked up thing I had to use to cover my cast didn’t take so long to get on, so I begrudgingly went downstairs and grabbed my laptop instead.

When I checked my email I saw I had one from the private investigator I’d asked to look into what had happened at the casino the night Sookie and I met. Reading that it was just a confirmation that he’d received my request and would look into it, I thought about just telling him to never mind. It might have been a foolish move on my part, but I’d stopped questioning Sookie’s motives about being with me. Not only did I now believe she was carrying my child, her sincerity showed in her every interaction with me and I found myself fascinated by every little thing about her, from her innocent-girl-next-door look to her coming up with things like spousal pussy privileges. When she stood up to Pam, I kept her in my lap more afraid of what she’d do to Pam than any damage she might sustain, having no doubt Sookie would win that fight now that I’d learned not to underestimate her. Sookie won it anyway and I was glad I wasn’t the only one that had met their match.

Cuntankerous bitch had it coming to her for years.

Still, I didn’t think it would hurt to have the PI look into things, if only so it might jog my memory or hers, so I closed the email without responding and opened up Google to look up what cars were the safest. When she’d come downstairs and pointed out, correctly, that the Hyundai Sonata was the top one, I wracked my brain trying to figure out a way to get out of it because I really didn’t think I could buy one. The money wasn’t the issue, but my Y chromosome was having a full out balls-to-the-walls-no-fucking-way moment at just the thought.

If only I could fuck HER into a coma, then she could wake up to find a Mercedes in the driveway. If she didn’t remember anything I could tell her she had it all along!

The only thing that got me off the couch was knowing she wanted Mexican food (and a possible handjob for me only sweetened the deal), but I swear to fucking Christ I felt like a complete douche climbing out of a stretch limo at the Hyundai dealership.

Complete. Douche.

From the looks of the salesmen loitering around the front looking for fresh meat, they agreed with my assessment. Before we’d left the house, I’d thrown on a black knit cap and sunglasses, but if any of them recognized me, they didn’t let on and I just focused on Sookie’s growing enthusiasm over getting to pick out a new car. She was eyeing the cars on the lot and talking out loud to herself about what color car she might get. For all of her complaining, I could tell she was excited and while the salesmen were jostling their way towards us, I leaned down to whisper in her ear, “Have a change of heart?”

Sookie snickered and put her hand up saying, “Stop. You saw the ratings, so tough shit it is.”

I pulled her closer and explained, “I wasn’t talking about the kind of car; I meant you seem excited now that we’re here.”

Her eyes dropped to her feet and she shuffled nervously a bit before admitting, “I guess…it’s just that… well, I’ve never had a new car before.” I don’t know why, but that thought had never crossed my mind. I knew she’d been raised by her Gran and gotten a scholarship to go to college, but it never occurred to me that she’d never had something as meaningless (to me anyway) as a new car and I vowed then and there that I would give her whatever her heart desired. I was still stunned silent when she looked up at me and smiled, leaning up on her tip toes and kissed my cheek, saying sincerely, “Thank you.”

She was thanking me for buying her a $20K piece of tough shit when I’d been willing to spend $90K on a BMW.

Like I said, she fascinated me.

There were no less than five middle aged men wandering our way with each of them attempting to stay one step ahead of the others. I guessed there wasn’t much demand for highly rated safe vehicles, but then, being the car snob I was, I wasn’t really surprised.

Sookie leaned in and whispered, “I’ll bet you the one in the middle carrying a beer baby makes it to us first.”

I looked at the pack and seeing as how there were younger and fitter men around him, I confidently said, “I’ll take that bet. What are we wagering?” I added, waggling my eyebrows.

She licked her lips and eyed me like a sex kitten, saying, “You’re Mr. Hot Shot Poker Player. You tell me.”

I suddenly wished I’d had the limo driver stick around so we’d have somewhere more private to go to for our negotiations, but with the gang of salesmen getting closer and the sea of Hyundai’s in the background, I ended up saying the first thing that came to my mind.

“If you’re wrong, we leave this shithole and go to the BMW dealership.” So it wasn’t the highest rated safe vehicle. It definitely rated higher on the man-scale.

Sookie chuckled as she shook her head ruefully, saying, “Gee, I give you my fuck-me face and you offer me a Beemer instead. I never knew I could be insulted by a luxury car.”

“Sookie,” I stammered, “you know I didn’t mean it that way.” I quickly wrapped my arm around her and pulled her against the front of my body as I spoke against the top of her head, “But if you want to wager sexual favors, then I’m all in.”

She laughed against my chest, patting it with her hands, and said, “After that, it might be a while before you’re all in again.” Her eyes looked up seeing what I’m sure was the utter horror on my face at just the thought that she’d punish me like that and it only made her laugh louder before she said, “It doesn’t matter anyway.”

I was about to ask her why when Mr. Beer Baby sauntered up to us with his sweaty paw out in front of him and his eyes trained on Sookie’s chest as he said, “Good afternoon. My name is Mike Spencer. Is there anything I can help you with or are you two just looking?”

Mike Spencer was moments away from getting a crutch to his crotch when Sookie spoke up saying, “Well Mike Spencer, seeing as how you’re asking my girls,” she motioned at MY girls with her hand and continued, “I can confidently say there is nothing you can help them with.”

He stood there completely flabbergasted, stuttering some incoherent dribble as his face reddened, but Sookie just shooed him away with her hands and walked over to an awkward looking younger guy and put her hand out, saying, “Hi, I’m Sookie, and my husband Eric and I are looking to get a Hyundai Sonata. Do you think you can help us out with that?”

He seemed completely surprised that she had chosen him to work with, but he still shook her hand and nervously stuttered, “Uh…sure. Yeah, of course. I’m Barry. Barry Horowitz.” His eyes never strayed lower than her face, so I was happy with her choice in salesmen, even if I was still unhappy with her choice in cars.

Barry was pretty knowledgeable about the cars he was selling and it turned out for an extra ten grand I could get the top of the line trim of the tough shit model with every option they had. Sookie tried to argue with me a bit until I asked Barry how many cars he’d sold that month. When he admitted that he hadn’t sold any and we were his first real customers, I heard no further arguments from her. Once Sookie’s car had been selected we sat down at Barry’s desk and when he started pulling the paperwork out to finance it, I held up my hand and took out my checkbook, saying, “Just give me the total.”

“You’re paying for it all? Right now? You’re not even going to try and bargain down the price?” he asked in disbelief.

“Is that a problem?” I asked since it seemed like a problem to him. Thirty grand seemed like a bargain price for a new car to me considering what I paid for my Corvette.

He blushed saying, “Um…no, of course not.”

When I continued to stare at him wondering what the issue was Sookie nudged my leg and shot me a disapproving look before saying to Barry, “Don’t mind him Barry. Writing a check for thirty grand like it was nothing would shock me too.”


I thought about it as we sat there silently with Barry filling out all of the required paperwork and wondered when I’d gotten so jaded. When I really thought about it, up until Sookie I’d been surrounded by people who either had the same kind of money that I did or had no problems wanting to spend mine. I’d thought I’d come a long way from years earlier when I had to borrow money from Pam just to get out from under my father’s roof, but was I really that far removed from everyday society?

Barry’s voice interrupted my thoughts, asking, “Would you like both of your names put on the title?”

I spoke up before Sookie could say anything, answering, “No. Just have Sookie Northman put on it.” I wanted it to be completely hers, no matter who paid for it, and liked that both the name and the concept were less foreign to me now.

“Eric, no…” she started to protest.

I turned to look at her and said, “Yes.” When it looked like she was still raring to fight me on it, I added, “Or, when you wake up in the morning instead of a Hyundai parked in the garage you’ll find a Ferrari.” If she could be insulted by luxury cars I supposed she could be threatened with them too.

No matter how mad she looked she was still sexy as hell, even when she gritted her teeth at Barry, who was waiting to see who the victor would be, and said, “Go ahead. Put it in my name so that way if he gets any ideas and does anything to it I can call the police and have him arrested for grand theft auto.”

Fuck. Did spousal pussy privilege not apply? I should’ve thought that one through.

As far as I was concerned, this was just a temporary car until she was done working and it would just be tough shit for her when it got replaced. Her anger dissipated completely by the time Barry was done with the paperwork and when he handed her the keys the excitement she felt was evident on her face. When we got outside she hugged me again, saying, “Thank you Eric.”

I kissed the top of her head and said, “Anything for you Mrs. Northman.” Saying her name out loud earlier had me repeating it mentally since then and I was liking the sound of it more and more. Besides, little did she know that when I’d said anything that included charges of grand theft auto to get rid of that ridiculous car in the spring. I was too pretty for prison, but I was 99% sure Sookie would drop the charges. If not, I had a lawyer on retainer for a reason (i.e. I’m too pretty for prison.).

When Sookie had gone for a test drive earlier, she’d gone with just Barry because there was no way I was going to fit into the backseat comfortably with my cast, but it turned out the same could be said of the front seat too. Sookie moved the passenger seat as far back as it would go and waited patiently for me to try and fold myself into it, but that was easier said than done. I was just about to start bitching in frustration when I looked up and saw how happy she was, so I bit my tongue not wanting to spoil her moment. When we were finally on the way to dinner she fiddled with the radio, before taking my hand in hers, saying, “I really can’t thank you enough Eric.”

I gently squeezed her hand and replied, “You don’t have to thank me Sookie. I’m just glad that you’re happy.” Her whole face was lit up and I couldn’t remember having seen anything or anyone more beautiful than her at that moment.

Would it surpass anything I might’ve seen during those missing three weeks?

I couldn’t know for sure without regaining my memories, but even then I was sure if I had seen something more beautiful it would’ve been her at just another moment in time.

“You think I’m stupid, don’t you,” she said out of the clear blue.

My thoughts immediately went to earlier that morning when I’d realized she’d taken the job in Compton knowing she was pregnant and I apologized, saying, “Sookie, I’m sorry about what I said this morning. I was just worried…”

“No,” she interrupted me. “I meant about me being so excited over this car.”

“I don’t think you’re stupid…” I hedged since the only excitement I got from this car was seeing hers.

“I know,” she said, “it’s not up to your standards, but I really do love it and I appreciate you getting it for me even though my beer appetite and your champagne income makes us both want to vomit.”

“What?” Was she craving beer? Champagne? Those weren’t good for pregnant women, were they?

She giggled, explaining, “I know you can buy pretty much whatever you want, but I’ve never wanted much so it didn’t really matter to me what the best new thing out there was. What I’m trying to say is that I know you don’t think very highly of this car, but to me it might as well be dipped in chocolate and come with its own Captain Jack Sparrow in the glove box. I love it so much because you bought it for me out of your concern for my safety and it overrode your concern for your hoity toity aesthetics.”

I’d been paying attention up until she’d mentioned Captain Jack Sparrow because her fuck-me face flashed briefly before returning to normal again and then I didn’t hear anything but the static that filled my ears as my vision turned red. “Captain Jack Sparrow?” I asked. I loved those movies and knowing Sookie had called my cock, among other things, the Kraken, I figured she loved them too. I just didn’t figure her to be lusting after a dirty drunken pirate, even if Johnny Depp was underneath it all.

Sookie laughed again and seeing my un-amused expression she asked, “Really? That’s all you got out of what I just said?” When I just cocked my eyebrow at her silently, and not so patiently, waiting for her to elaborate, she huffed out while still looking amused, “What? Captain Jack is hot. This shouldn’t be news to you. Those movies raked in a ton of money for a reason.”

The screenplays, acting, and special effects were the only reasons I thought they did so well. Silly me.

“What’s so hot about Captain Jack Sparrow?” I asked. “He’s dirty and smelly and a staggering drunk through most of the films.” Another thought occurred to me that was even more disconcerting and made me ask, “Or is it just Johnny Depp?” His dark hair and eyes were the exact opposite of mine and that thought didn’t sit well at all.

At. All.

“Oh my God, Eric…” she cackled, “Are you jealous?”


“No,” I lied. “I’m just curious.” She clearly wasn’t buying my denial, so I added, “You know, in case I ever get cast as a foul smelling, rotten toothed, transvestite.”

Maybe I should’ve left that part out.

Sookie was clearly having a field day with my issues and her fuck me face made an instantaneous reappearance when she said, “Dirty never looked so good until Captain Jack Sparrow came along.”

“Really…” I fumed.

“Really…” she sighed, staring ahead through the windshield.

Why it bothered me so much that she was practically swooning over a fictional movie character was beyond me, but the fact remained that I was bothered. I hadn’t noticed my hand had left Sookie’s and was currently in the official I’m-being-a-pouty-jealous-bitch position with my arms crossed over my chest, until I felt her hand sliding up my thigh.

A handjob can’t fix EVERYTHING.

“Eric?” she asked timidly. “Are you upset?”

I felt like a fucking teenage girl that just caught her boyfriend eying a cheerleader in the lunchroom, but I denied it saying, “No.”

“Oh,” she said brightly, removing her hand from my leg in the process. “That’s good because he really is hot.”

She could’ve at least TRIED the handjob route.

I was in the middle of mentally beheading Jack Sparrow with my sword when she said, “Hey! We could name the baby Jack!

“Absolutely not!” I barked out and turned to see her grinning face. “What?” I asked, wondering what was so fucking joyous to her.

“Seriously Eric? You’re being all pissy because I like Captain Jack’s swagger? Because I haven’t brought up Bambi Big Hole once and I got to see not only the lasting impression you left on her thanks to her skank-agraphed poster, but I got to meet her live and in person with her trying to molest you right in front of me. I think on the scale of bitchitude, you’re overreacting.”

We’d pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant by then and she parked, turning off the car and faced me. Her face still showed some amusement and her voice was even and light, so she didn’t seem upset, but I had no fucking idea what she was talking about and it must’ve shown on my face until she looked me in the eyes and said, “Yvetta.”


My stomach sank with dread knowing they’d somehow met each other and what Yvetta’s reaction must have been. I was sure there was more to it, but I honestly wasn’t sure if I wanted to know and ended up rubbing my eyes in resignation, asking, “What happened?”

Sookie waited until I looked at her and took my hand in hers as she said, “Nothing worth mentioning. I only brought it up to try and give you a little perspective.”

My perspective was that I was an asshole. A jealous asshole.

“I’m sorry,” I sighed. “It was stupid to get jealous over something so innocent, but…” I sighed again. I really was an asshole considering I was getting all pissed off over something like that knowing she’d only been intimate with one other person when I’d fucked more women than I could honestly remember. And Sookie probably knew that about me and still didn’t judge me for it. I finally admitted, “I can’t explain it. Just the thought of you with someone else, wanting someone else drives me batshit. I mean, that’s dumb, right?”

Sookie unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned across the console, placing a soft kiss on my lips, and said, “I only want you.”

I didn’t deserve her.

I pulled her back for a much more intense kiss before releasing her and truthfully admitted, “I only want you too.”

She smiled again, saying, “Good!” and then reached over to grab the door handle before looking at me and winking as she said, “Besides, I already checked the glove box and Captain Jack isn’t in there.”

“Ha ha,” I said without any humor even though I felt some returning. “We should find somewhere with an open mike night for you to try out all of your new material.”

Sookie walked around to my side of the car and waited for me to pry myself from the seat, which was a workout in itself, and said, “Nah…being in the spotlight isn’t my thing.”

“Really?” I asked. I was so used to being around people in show business that it was almost like she was speaking Swahili to me.

“Yeah,” she replied. “I don’t like being the center of attention.”

It was just another foreign phrase to me, but by that time we were walking through the doors of Mucho Mas and were immediately seated. It seemed nice enough and Sookie didn’t even bother picking up the menu, with her eyes instead darting around as she wondered out loud, “Where’s our server?”

In the kitchen lusting over Johnny Depp?

My eyes were looking over the menu when I answered, “Having a siesta?”

She laughed saying, “Well then siesta time is over. Jack wants enchiladas.”

I would sooner name my son Cock than to name him Jack now.

Thankfully the server showed up before I admitted that out loud and our orders were brought out to us fairly quickly, so our small talk ended with me watching Sookie eat, or more so listening to the sounds she was making as she ate, more than actually eating my own meal. Now knowing firsthand what sounds she made while having sex, her foodgasms weren’t too far off the mark and I wasn’t the only one that noticed. No less than six sets of male eyes were on her whenever she took another bite of her food and I temporarily lost interest in my own meal so I could stare each and every one of them down.

“Do you not like your food?” Sookie asked with her eyes darting to my nearly untouched meal.

“It’s fine,” I said, eying down one particularly obtuse asshole that didn’t seem to see the wedding band on Sookie’s left hand, probably too busy jerking off underneath his table.

“Then why aren’t you eating?” she asked, taking another bite of her enchilada and letting out another moan.

After our almost-argument in the car, I didn’t want to admit to feeling territorial over her, but now that I’d come to accept that she was my wife; my wife who was carrying my child, I was fighting my instincts to cover her body with my own and growling at every male in the vicinity to back the hell off.

But they seriously needed to back the hell off.

“Eric?” she asked again when I didn’t respond.

When the obtuse asshole finally noticed my death stare his eyes dropped back down to his own plate, so I picked up my fork and said, “I’m eating. See?” I took a bite and smiled at her while chewing my food. Little did she know that my smile came from not only looking at her, but the additional heads I’d mentally added to Captain Jack’s that were rolling on the floor in my mind.

We eventually got home after another round of what Sookie had laughingly dubbed Eric Origami, with me trying to get back into the car, and her near constant yawns and watering eyes had me suggesting that we go to bed. It wasn’t until we’d gotten upstairs and I watched her head into her room that my earlier thoughts came back to me and I followed behind her, asking, “Why didn’t you ever move into the master bedroom?”

She turned to look at me with a mixture or surprise and sadness, saying, “Well…we hadn’t…our relationship…”

Seeing her eyes start to tear up, I moved forward and took her hand in mine, softly asking, “We hadn’t what?”

Sookie took a deep breath and blew it out, trying to blink back her tears, and said, “I guess we just hadn’t gotten around to it? I mean, when I first moved in we weren’t really together; it was just for show and then when we decided to try being a real couple everything just happened so fast and we’d been so busy that we never talked about it. We’d shared your bed before we ever had sex, but you’d never come right and asked me to move my things into your room.” Her eyes looked up at me hesitantly as she admitted, “I guess I was just waiting for you to ask me.”

Had I really been so caught up in everyday life that I never thought to ask her to move her things into my room? How could that be when I…

I blew out my own deep breath before asking, “Sookie? Would you please consider moving your things into our room?”

She smiled with her eyes glancing at the bed and said, “Well…that bed is a bit small for you and since you seem unable to sleep alone, I suppose it would be the kind thing to do.”

Since I couldn’t be much help carrying her things across the hall, I made myself useful by making room in my closet for her clothes and watched her make several trips back and forth. She looked even happier than she had been getting the new car and when we finally settled into bed for the night, there was only one thought on my mind.

That feeling in my chest definitely wasn’t gas.


One comment on “Chapter 83

  1. kleannhouse says:

    NOPE no gas just pure love

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