Chapter 4

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I avoided going to Dawson’s for the next few days. Sookie was still getting her bearings and adding an extra person that she clearly didn’t like would have probably just annoyed her. I wasn’t trying to annoy her. Dawson told me she was going to be staying indefinitely. If she couldn’t get over her issues with me I was sure her life was going to suck in San Diego too. Not my problem.

 

Amelia asked me to come over and make my fish tacos for them. I hadn’t cooked at the Dawson house in a while so I wasn’t sure what they had. I stopped at the store on the way over to pick up the mahi mahi and all the ingredients for the mango salsa. I didn’t know if Sookie liked that kind of thing but since Amelia requested them I assumed she did.

 

When I got to the house I walked in through the front door without knocking. Dawson should’ve been home from work already and when they specifically invited me over I never worried about knocking. As I walked through the door the first person I saw was Dawson coming out in his basketball shorts fresh out of the shower.

 

“What’s up, man?” I greeted him as I made my way to the kitchen. The girls were in there standing in front of the blender. Amelia had margaritas going. “Hello ladies.”

 

“Margarita Monday!” Amelia exclaimed, holding up her drink.

 

“I thought it was taco Tuesday?” Because it was definitely Tuesday.

 

“Hmm, same difference,” she giggled.

 

“Right,” I laughed. “Hello, Sookie,” I greeted her directly. I made sure to smile at her without being creepy, or so I thought.

 

“Eric,” she said politely. She was sitting on one of the breakfast bar stools with perfect posture and her shoulders squared.

 

“Amelia requested mahi mahi tacos, I hope you like fish,” I said. Tray walked into the room, going straight to his wife to give her a kiss. I set the bags on the counter and started to unpack them. I preferred my kitchen, but theirs wasn’t that bad.

 

“I’ve never had mahi mahi before but I’ll try it,” she replied.

 

“Sookie’s all about trying new things,” Dawson told me and I noticed Sookie started to turn red. She smacked Dawson’s arm when he pantomimed smoking a joint.

 

I chuckled and said, “It’s okay, Sookie. Anyone that knows Amelia has tried it at least once. I hope you like dinner. I haven’t made them in a while.”

 

“Thanks.” Sookie picked up her margarita and chugged down the rest of it.

 

“Do you like mango salsa?” I asked. “Dawson, can you get your paws off of her for ten seconds to go heat up the grill?”

 

“My wife is a tasty woman,” he said unapologetically, but popped Amelia on the ass before going outside.

 

“I’ve never had that either,” Sookie admitted.

 

“You are in for a treat,” I smiled. “If you like mangos, that is. If not I’m sure they have stuff for me to make regular salsa.”

 

“I think I like mango. I guess I’ll find out,” she shrugged.

 

I pulled the mango over from the pile of food I dug out of the bag and took a moment to cut a piece off. I slid the knife under it and walked it over to Sookie.

 

“Try it,” I suggested. Not everyone liked them.

 

She took the piece I offered and chewed thoughtfully for a moment. It was hard to tell what she was thinking.

 

“It’s not as sweet as I thought it would be,” she said.

 

“Which makes it good for salsa. Do you like it?”

 

“I’m not sure yet,” she laughed. The margaritas must have been kicking in.

 

She had a pretty laugh.

 

“You ever cook anything, Sookie?” I figured Amelia and Dawson were off making out by the grill I might as well get to know Sookie better.

 

“Takeout? Does that count?”

 

“That doesn’t count,” I laughed. “Would you like to help me while Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum paw all over each other?”

 

“Only if you’re a certified EMT,” she said. “I’d probably set the kitchen on fire or cut off my finger.”

 

“Ah, well, the only actual cooking is only is happening on the grill. If my eight-year-old can chop an avocado, you can. You can actually cut it with a spoon if you don’t trust yourself.” I picked up the avocado and a knife to cut it in half.

 

“Uh maybe I’ll stick to being a spectator,” Sookie said nervously. “I’ve had three margaritas already.”

 

“Smart girl,” I chuckled. I grabbed a bowl from the cabinet so I could start throwing things into it after I diced it. “Do you know how to work the blender? I could use a margarita and it looks like Amelia just killed the last batch.”

 

“That I can do.” Sookie slid off her seat and moved around the breakfast bar to grab the pitcher. “What flavor do you want? We’ve been drinking blood orange, but she’s got lime, strawberry and pineapple.” There was a hint of a slur to the way Sookie spoke, suggesting she was buzzed.

 

“Strawberry,” I ordered. I started dicing the jalapeno. “Light on the tequila I have to work in the morning.” If I got too drunk I could go in later. Charles was my right hand man. Having him there was the same as if I was in there.

 

“You got it,” she said. “Um, how much tequila is too much for someone your size anyway?”

 

“Half a bottle. How much are you putting in there?” I assumed Sookie’s normal serving was a light serving for me. She was a miniature person compared to me.

 

“I don’t know,” she shrugged.

 

“Start pouring and I’ll say when, how’s that?” I finished the jalapeno and tossed it into the bowl before grabbing the mango to finish dicing.

 

“I already poured.” Sookie held up the pitcher for me to look. There had to be at least five shots in there.

 

“That’ll work unless you think you need more,” I chuckled.

 

“I don’t think so.” She added the mixer and some ice. She was about to start the blender without the lid but I caught her.

 

“Whoa there, princess,” I laughed as I moved to grab her hand. I placed the lid on the blender for her. “You forgot something. Go ahead and press play.” I was standing right behind her. Sookie’s body was lightly pressed against my chest. It felt good, too good.

 

The blender whirred to life, pulverizing the ice inside to make a neon green, frothy concoction. Sookie stopped the blender and reached for a clean glass.

 

“Salt?”

 

“Yes please.” I stepped back to stop myself from rubbing against her. I didn’t know any of the details of her relationship or break up but the last thing she needed was some man she barely knew rubbing his body all over her. That just sounded creepy.

 

Sookie salted the rim of my glass and then poured my drink for me.

 

“Here you go,” she said.

 

“Perfect, thank you.” I took the glass so I could take a sip of it. It was pretty damn good. I set it on the counter and tossed the mango in the bowl along with some red onion. I added some seasoning and then finished dicing the avocado and put the salsa in the fridge before I started to season the fish. “Where are you from, Sookie?” I asked as I seasoned.

 

“Bon Temps, Louisiana,” she replied, pronouncing the state like Loo-zee-annuh.

 

Her accent was cute when it came out too. Shit, I owed Dawson a hundred bucks.

 

“I have no idea what part of the state that’s in,” I admitted.

 

“It’s near Shreveport, ’bout twenty-five miles east of there,” she said. Sookie stood close enough to my left side that I could feel her body heat and my arm brushed her boobs on accident when I reached for the salt.

 

“I do know where Shreveport is,” I said. I wanted to brush her boob again, but that would’ve been obvious. She did have great tits. Jugs was an appropriate name. “I was raised in Beverly Hills. My grandfather is Appius Ocella, not sure if you’ve heard of him. My mom did a few movies in the seventies and eighties, Karin Northman…” Her name was more recognizable.

 

“Shut the barn door!” Sookie exclaimed. “You’re telling me that you’re mother is Karin Northman? Wasn’t she a Bond girl?”

 

“Uh… yeah,” I nodded. To me she was just Mom. I grabbed a towel to wipe my hands. I pulled my phone from my pocket and went through my pictures to find one of Mom, Josie and me at Disneyland the year before. I handed it to Sookie so she could see.

 

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but your kid doesn’t look a lick like you. She’s too pretty,” Sookie teased with a wink.

 

“She is too pretty,” I chuckled. “You’re right, she had my smile and that’s it. She has her mom’s coloring with my mom’s face.” I looked like my dad. I also had a feeling Sookie was flirting. It was cute.

 

“Someday she’ll have you beatin’ boys off with both hands.”

 

“I’m not looking forward to it. I’m still her favorite man and it scares me to think that’s not always going to be the case. You’ll probably meet her one day. She always wants to come see Tray. She thinks she’s going to marry him one day,” I snorted.

 

“She could have a shot. You never know,” Sookie said.

 

“No,” I replied. “Even if Dawson and Amelia split he’s not into girls that young.” And I’d murder his ass for looking twice my daughter.

 

“He better not be. That’s gross. I had an uncle that was,” she revealed and promptly took a drink straight from the margarita pitcher.

 

I looked at her for a minute, but kept my mouth shut. I didn’t think she meant to say that and I wasn’t going to probe her. At least not like that, I would’ve definitely probed her in other ways.

 

“I think we can stop talking about Dawson being a perv now,” I said. I rubbed the fish with the seasoning and set it aside. “Do you want rice with dinner?” I asked. I wasn’t planning on making it but I would if she wanted some.

 

“I don’t think so.”

 

“Okay. Do you want kids some day?” I asked.

 

“That’s… It’s kind of personal, don’t you think?”

 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,” I apologized.

 

“S’okay,” she replied. Sookie looked out the windows at the beach in front of her. “I wish they all could be California girls,” she sang under her breath.

 

I didn’t want to bother her so I grabbed the fish. “It’s time to throw this on the grill. Would you like to come with me? We can crash the makeout party that’s probably going on out there.”

 

“I’ll get the hose,” Sookie volunteered.

 

“Thank you. Can you get the door for me too?” It gave me a chance to watch her ass. I had eyes and she was really hot. I had the plate in my hand, along with a stack of small flour tortillas to throw on the grill.

 

She pulled the slider open for me and gestured for me to go ahead. Sookie followed me out and grabbed the hose as promised. I chuckled as I walked toward the grill. As expected Dawson and Amelia were making out in one of the lounge chairs. I was surprised Amelia still had clothes on. I didn’t say anything as I opened the lid of the grill to throw the fish on. I had my back to them, but I wasn’t too shocked when I heard a squeal. I looked back to see Sookie spraying them down with the hose.

 

“Meels, I’m drunk!” Sookie yelled after she dropped the hose. “I think I’m sweating my tattoo off.”

 

“What was that? Eric is helping you sweat it off?” Amelia yelled back as she stood up to shake off some of the water. “You need to get some new di–”

 

“Dishes,” Sookie cut her off. No one believed that was the word Amelia was going for.

 

“No, I was going to say dick,” Amelia corrected her.

 

Sookie snatched up the hose and sprayed Amelia in the face. Amelia just laughed as she tried to fight the water off so she could make it to Sookie and fight the hose away from her. Watching the girls wrestle around wasn’t too bad. It sucked when my cock twitched, but they were too busy hosing each other down to notice.

 

Tray got up and walked over to me.

 

“I owe you a hundred bucks,” I told him.

 

“Fuck yeah you do,” he smirked.

 

“It isn’t helping that she’s standing there in a wet dress clinging to her body,” I said without taking my eyes off of them.

 

“You’re too easy,” Dawson chuckled. “Check the fish, Aquaman.”

 

I turned around. It was ready to flip. I flipped it and tossed a few tortillas on the grill. It was best to not look at the girls wrestling around anyway. Tray went in the house to get a clean plate for me once the fish was done.

 

“Kids, dry off of dinner,” I called over my shoulder.

 

The girls separated and Sookie peeled off her wet dress right there on the patio.

 

“Problem solved,” she said.

 

“Yeah… at least one problem is,” I muttered. I was trying not to look at her like I wanted to devour her but it was impossible when she was standing there in nothing but a strapless bra and little panties.

 

“Why don’t you take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Sookie snorted.

 

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and snapped a picture before slipping it back into my pocket. I took the plate into the house so I could start plating up everyone’s dishes. I knew how much Dawson and Amelia ate, but I wasn’t sure how much Sookie would want.

 

“How hungry are you, Princess?” I asked when she followed me into the house.

 

“Ugh, don’t call me that. My father calls me that. Well he used to before I became an embarrassment to the family,” Sookie said.

 

“I apologize,” I said. “If they’re embarrassed by you and your choices they don’t deserve you,” I added. That wasn’t family. Family supported you in whatever choices you made.

 

Sookie nodded but said nothing while she reached for a tortilla. I went to the fridge to grab the mango salsa to hand to her. Once again the Dawsons were missing which meant Tray was probably getting laid, or trying to. Thankfully they came back out of the room. Amelia was missing her clothes but she had a towel wrapped around her body.

 

“Dinner’s served guys,” I said as I handed Amelia’s plate to her. I picked up my margarita and took a seat at the breakfast bar next to Sookie.

 

“These look fuckin’ tasty,” Tray said. He demolished half a taco in one bite.

 

“Thanks, man. Your wife picked the meal,” I told him.

 

“It’d been too long,” Amelia said before taking a much smaller bite of her taco.

 

“She does enjoy a good taco.”

 

“Even pink ones,” Sookie added, making Tray choke.

 

“Yeah, but you never let me have yours,” Amelia snorted. I wanted to taste Sookie too… Nope, she didn’t need me trying to fuck her.

 

“Sorry, Meels, you know I’m strictly dickly,” Sookie replied.

 

I wanted to offer her mine. I really needed to get laid.

 

“Mmhmm, I don’t think it counts when you’ve only had one dick,” Amelia shrugged.

 

“Actually, I think that’s when it counts most,” Sookie countered.

 

“I don’t know. I think you should try a few more out and maybe a chick before you make up your mind.”

“Yeah, or you could end up married with a kid then decide you’re a lesbian,” I muttered.

 

“Who’s a lesbian?” Sookie asked.

 

“Oh, my ex-wife,” I told her.

 

“Her girlfriend looks like a man though,” Amelia added.

 

“I think her dick is bigger than Eric’s too,” Tray contributed.

 

“Which is saying something,” I chuckled.

 

“Something good or something bad?” Sookie looked confused. It had to be the tequila. “Jury’s back on the mango. Tastes like feet.”

 

I laughed. “That’s not an assessment I’ve ever heard about mango.” I was leaving the dick discussion alone.

 

“Then you’ve been talking to the wrong people,” she said matter-of-factly.

 

“I’ll come to you for all of my food critiques from here on out, how’s that?”

 

“Brilliant plan.”

 

“You know that means you’re going to have to see him other than with me,” Amelia said.

 

Sookie shrugged and leaned over me for another tortilla. She was eating them plain. Weirdo.

 

“You know those are better with a little butter on them,” I told her. “Or dessert tortillas with cinnamon and sugar.”

 

“I’ve never put butter on a tortilla,” she told me.

 

“Oh, my poor, sheltered Sookie,” I said, shaking my head. I abandoned my taco to get up and lightly warm her a tortilla with melted butter. If she didn’t like it, she was broken. “Try it that way.”

 

She pulled off a piece of the tortilla and put it in her mouth. Again she chewed for a few seconds and then shrugged. Indifferently.

 

She was definitely broken.

 

“It tastes like butter,” she said. “That’s only important if you’re Paula Deen.” Or American.

 

“It’s good to me,” I shrugged.

 

“Different strokes for different folks. You like feet salsa, so…”

 

“I’ll find something that curls your toes,” I promised.

 

“Maybe try weiners,” Tray suggested. Sookie threw a mango chunk at him.

 

“Hey!” Amelia squeaked. “You’re going to have to clean that up.”

 

“Well shoot. What will I do with the other twenty-three hours, fifty-nine minutes and fifty seconds of the day?”

 

“Smart ass. Keep it up and I’m sending you home with Eric,” she said.

 

“I doubt Sookie wants that, Ames,” I chuckled.

 

“Especially since Jennifer has more weiner,” Tray added.

 

“Which is impressive,” I said before I finished my second taco.

 

Sookie grabbed the bottle of Patron and drank straight from it.

 

“Slow down, killer,” Tray warned.

 

“She’ll be fine,” Amelia said. “She’s living for the first time. She needs to know what an epic hangover is.”

 

“Our couch doesn’t.”

 

“I’ll clean it up if she pukes. Or send her home with Eric,” she winked at me.

 

“You’re repeating yourself, Meels. No more margaritas for you,” Sookie said.

 

“Okay,” Amelia replied.

 

The rest of the night went smoothly. Sookie ended up passing out on the couch before I went home. I didn’t know if she puked or not but she was going to have one hell of a hangover. I liked her. The first impression was bad, but drunk Sookie was funny. I had no expectations for the next meeting. I was going to take her one day at a time. Not that it made a difference; I wanted to fuck her but I didn’t see that happening. I was probably better off that way.

 

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