“Thank you Pam,” I sighed as I rubbed my hand down my face. The week old stubble -okay full on beard- scratched my palm and I made a mental note to shave after this whole debacle with Pam was over.
“Well, what do you expect? You and Godric LEFT ME! Me! How could you just flit off to Vegas and not even tell me?” She paused her ranting and planted her hands on her hips. “Did you at least get laid? That would totally excuse just a little bit of your douchebaggery.”
“I barely remember. I just needed to fuck off and…you know.” When I looked up to see her eyes softening in pity I growled. “Don’t even look at me like that! I’m fine!”
Her ‘psh’ and huff as she flounced off made my eyes roll back into my head.
“Oh! And take a fucking shower! You smell like a trucker’s ass!”
The click of her high heels was cut off abruptly as the front door slammed shut behind her.
I looked around at the pigsty I was currently calling a living room. Maybe she had a point. I needed to clean the house…and myself. In the three weeks since I’d returned from Vegas, a trip I could barely remember due to the massive amounts of alcohol Godric poured down my throat, I’d done next to nothing. Well, nothing but drink. And watch TV. And order take out. And drink some more.
Pam finally got tired of my not coming in to work. Which is why she’d come over to kick my ass. Thankfully the stench of week old liquor, Chinese take out and unwashed ‘man’ smell seemed to keep her at bay. She had a mean left hook.
Sighing, I hauled my ass off the couch, praying the ass print embedded in the black leather wasn’t permanent. My tank top was stiff as I yanked it over my head and tossed it to the floor as I made my way down the hall to the bathroom. First order of business was cleaning myself. Then I’d figure out the house.
My basketball shorts dropped as I adjusted the temperature of the water to as hot as I could tolerate. I hissed as I stepped in, wincing under the forceful spray. My muscles were aching with disuse, so I ducked my head under the spray letting the water sluice over my back, massaging away the tension.
If only it could chase away the memories as well.
I clenched my eyes shut and grabbed the loofah off the bar at the back of the shower. I sighed happily as I lathered myself up with my favorite soap and made a mental note to order more, since I was running low. The ringing of the doorbell had me groaning and lightly banging my head against the wall. So much for relaxation.
“Just come on in, Godric!”
Resignedly, I finished scrubbing myself down and began washing the soap away from my skin.
The ringing doorbell brought me out of my slightly meandering mental drifting.
“God damn it, Godric! I said come in!”
I stepped out of the shower, ripping the towel off the bar and slinging it haphazardly around my waist. I made my way down the hall, making sure anyone and everyone in the neighborhood could hear my heaving stomps.
“Mother fucking hell Godric, I-” and the breath whooshed out of me as I ripped the door open. The person fidgeting and turning a spectacular shade of ruby was decidedly NOT Godric.
We stared at each other for a few more seconds, her face turning progressively redder as she gasped slightly. She was truly a sight to behold. Tiny, just over 5 feet tall, slim, but with amazing curves. And god, her rack…there were no words.
“Guh-” she gulped and squeezed her eyes shut tightly. “Are you-are you Eric Northman?”
“I am. And who might you be?”
The fact that her eyes nearly popped from her skull was a tad disconcerting, but I leaned against the door frame, waiting for this weird situation to play out.
“You-uh…you can’t be Eric Northman! You can’t! Fuck!!!”
With another gulp, her eyes finally dropped from where they’d been appraising my body (again) and she fumbled with the pocket on her delightfully tight jeans, pulling out a slim iPhone with a purple case. She stumbled backwards before spinning around and dropping to sit heavily on my front steps.
Color me confused. I tabled my musings for a moment as I retreated to my room to dress, leaving the door wide open. I made a quick pass around the living room, opening windows and kicking clothes under whatever furniture would hide it. There was nothing really to be done with the take out containers and I just prayed that she wasn’t coming in. Silently I crept back down the hallway, trying to listen in on whatever she was saying as she hyperventilated on my porch.
“Alc! I can’t-he…oh my god! Fuck! He’s got no idea. Shit, how-” her gasping every few words was starting to concern me.
Her shriek and subsequent tossing of her phone led me to believe maybe I shouldn’t have channeled my inner ninja. She scrambled backwards towards me, her panicked eyes raking over me quickly, as she grabbed her phone and nearly took her ear off with it.
“Yeah Alc. I’m here. He just-surprised me.” She listened to whoever ‘Alc’ was for a moment. “No, I’ll be fine. I’ll call you-after.” Another pause. “Okay, you too darlin’.”
Her subtle accent had my cock springing to attention and I shifted restlessly trying to conceal my traitorous body’s reaction as she slowly stood and spun around.
“Care to tell me who you are? I’m all for finding beautiful women on my porch, but it seems as if you’ve got me beat for information,” I injected some smoulder into my words and she flushed a delicious shade of pink as the word ‘beautiful’ crossed my lips.
“My name’s Sookie Stackhouse,” her hand shot out to grip mine. Her grip was surprisingly strong despite her smooth, soft skin as my calloused mitts caressed hers. My eyes rolled back in my head a bit as I savored the angelic sound of her voice-only to be thrown back into reality by her next words. “Apparently, I’m your wife.”
x . x . x . x . x
My ears were ringing. There were black spots dancing across my field of vision, which currently included the hardwood floor and my feet as I rested my head against my legs.
My wife? Noooooo, it couldn’t be. I would definitely remember getting married.
Gasping for breath, my eyes shot up to find my phone, only to see her sitting curled in one of my overstuffed armchairs with her flip flops on the ground in front of her, staring at me with wide azure eyes rimmed in red. My heart clenched when she sniffled and I pushed that emotion into the back of my mind as I continued my search for the wayward phone.
Crying women freaked me out. It had nothing to do with HER.
As I located my phone under an errant couch cushion that had been carelessly tossed to the floor in my mad dash to collapse in shock, I mashed my fingers over the keys. My frustration mounted as my huge fingers kept stabbing at the wrong buttons and I nearly cried with rage.
Finally getting the possessed piece of shit to work, I dialed Godric’s number. Tapping my foot impatiently as I waited for him to answer, I cast another glance at my alleged wife.
“Hey man, what’s up?” Godric’s laid back greeting threw me back into the rage I’d managed to momentarily suppress.
“Do you have anything you’d like to tell me about Vegas?”
“Uh, no?” I heard the buzz of a tattoo gun in the background and I could visualize the raised eyebrow Godric was probably sporting as he answered.
“Are you sure? Because I got an interesting visit today-” I paused as Godric ‘hmmm’d’ at me distractedly. “-from my wife.”
The clunk and sputtered curse words filtering through the apparently dropped phone were music to my ears.
“Excuse me?!?” his voice seemed to be two octaves higher in his surprise.
I ran my hand down my face, mentally beating my inner Viking back into submission before he broke out into a berserker rage. “Could you please just get over here whenever you’re done at the shop?”
“Sure thing, bro. I’ll be Speedy Gonzalez.”
The abrupt click in my ear reminded me that I still had yet to teach the hooligan any manners. The crunch of my phone slamming against the wall as I whipped it away from me also reminded me that I may still have anger issues.
My stunning display of my throwing arm also made the woman in my living room shriek and duck her head. Fucking nut job. I didn’t even throw it in her direction.
“So, wife-,” my teeth ground together forcefully as I spit out the word, “how did this happen? We’ve got some time to kill before my buddy gets here so I can strangle him for getting me into this.”
Her frightened eyes only served to piss me off and make me extremely upset at the same time.
“Your friend Godric?” I gave a sharp jolt of my head that was supposed to be a nod. “Shorter than you, well who isn’t…dark hair, tattoos all over him-that Godric?”
I stared at this enigma in front of me and nodded. I swear, I had to be in some sort of suspended alcohol induced delusion because this absolutely could not be happening. Maybe I had a psychotic break while we were in Vegas and I was really in a mental hospital muttering to myself in a padded room. Seems like it could be true.
“I remember him. I think. I was soooooo drunk…” She trailed off, casting an anxious look my way. “But, hey! That’s what bachelorette weekends are for, right?”
Her uncomfortable chuckle did nothing to alleviate my worries about being in some sort of prank where Ashton Kutcher was going to spring out any second.
“So, let me get this straight. You were in Vegas about a month ago. Somehow we got married. And you don’t remember it either?” I pinched the bridge of my nose as she nodded. “Is there any chance this could be a mistake?”
“That’s what I thought, but…” She shuffled and groped in her back pocket, pulling out a slip of wrinkled paper. “THAT is definitely my signature. Is it yours?”
She handed over what appeared to be a marriage license and sure enough, my signature was scrawled hastily on the bottom.
“And…” She trailed off and shifted uncomfortably. I ran my hand down my face again, and her eyes darted quickly around the room. Now she was making me nervous.
“Well, uh…you see, we uh-con…consu…fuck! Since we-consummated-the marriage, we can’t get it annulled,” her rushed words just sliced through me, numbing me even further.
I hated this. For real. I hadn’t been that drunk in years. Obviously, this would be the reason why. After all I don’t just marry some random girl and then fuck-
“FUCK! You’re not pregnant, are you?! Is that why we can’t get it annulled?”She cowered away from me as I shot to my feet. My heart launched itself into my throat and I immediately felt guilty. “Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
I tentatively reached a hand out to offer comfort, only to find she was trembling. Visibly.
My heart just about broke. Only because no one should be that afraid of another person. Clearly.
I sat back down gently. “I’m sorry. I’ll just sit here until you’re ready.”
Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut, obscuring the beautiful blue behind her makeup-less lids. God, she really was gorgeous and seemingly without a stitch of any enhancements. I started cataloging all the visual delights in front of me as I waited, purely for something to do. Her breathing gradually evened out and she uncurled her body, clutching a pillow over her torso.
Her sudden and seemingly random comment caught me off guard. My eyebrows knit together.
“You asked if I was pregnant. The answer is no.”
Oh. Right. Good to know.
“Okay then. Uh, so–yeah, wow this is a hugely weird situation.” I rubbed the back of my neck, glancing at her warily.
“That’s the understatement of the century.” She twiddled her fingers absently. “I uh-I have to check in. With my friend. She’s circling around the block.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“I was…nervous. And she feels responsible because she was with me in Vegas so…”
I nodded absently, not really knowing what I was agreeing to. At her questioning look, I motioned for her to go ahead and make her call.
“Hey Ames. Yeah, I’m here with him,” she paused and glanced at me. “Yes, I told him.”
I heard some indistinct mumbling from the phone gripped tightly in her dainty fingers.
“Amelia! No! Later!” Her face lit up to a spectacular shade of red and she buried her head in her free hand. “I have no idea how long it’s going to take.”
I snapped my fingers and she jumped slightly. “She can come here, if you want.”
Her eyebrow went up, looking remarkably like Pam as she did it. “Hey, Ames. He said you could come on in if you want instead of driving aimlessly around.”
She nodded a few more times before abruptly pulling the phone away from her ear.
She looked repentantly at me. “She has horrible phone manners.”
I chuckled. Leave it to us to have friends with the exact same personality ‘quirks’.
“She’ll be here in a few minutes. I’ll uh-go out on the porch and wait for her,” she stood slowly, smoothing her shirt down in the process. I spied a gnarly looking bruise on her hip before she twisted away from my penetrating gaze.
“Just leave the door open. The breeze will be nice. Do you want me to make some coffee or something while we wait for her?”
Godric would have an aneurysm if he heard how polite I was being. ‘Nice guy’ would never be a descriptor someone would use when talking about me.
“Coffee would be great. Thanks,” she shot a shy smile at me and my heart fluttered slightly. Smiling, I led her down the hallway with my hand on the small of her back. Flicking the deadbolt open, I pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.
We both froze.
Blinking rapidly, we stared at each other.
“Uh-I’m gonna head in to get that coffee,” I stammered-something I’d never done before in my life.
“Yeah-uh…okay,” she was trembling again, which I hated.
But right at that moment, I seriously needed to get away from her. What the hell WAS that?