Forrest walks a little faster to the table so he can pull my chair out for me. I smile without looking at him. Now that we're at the restaurant I'm feeling a little intimidated again; there's no roadside scenery to use as a distraction, no loud engine to blame a lack of conversation on. I immediately grab the menu from the hostess and bury my face in it.

Mountain Trout $16.95… Shrimp $17.95… Surf & Turf $Price Varies$...

"Miss?" someone asks with more than a little impatience and I hear Forrest give a short growl. I look up from my menu and see a young man who is probably the waiter and Forrest giving the waiter a bad case of stink eye.

"I'm sorry… what did you say?" I manage to stutter as I look at the young man who has now realized that a very intimidating Forrest is not pleased with how he spoke to me.

"Um, drink? What would you like to drink?" the waiter, who I now realize is named Greg, asks nervously as he fidgets with the clicker on his pen.

"Sweet tea with lemon please," I say and smile, hoping to calm down the irritated vampire across from me who is squinting with displeasure at the fleeing figure of our server. I'm not shocked with a young girl named Candy comes back with my tea and an ice water for him and announces that she will be taking care of us instead Greg.

I order the Pasta Alfredo because it's one of the less expensive items on the menu and Forrest orders the New York Strip, rare of course. I nervously hand the menu to Candy who is far too busy giving Forrest some good old "fuck me" eyes to pay any attention to me. A small urge to kick her in her skinny, little-girl ankles crosses my mind but I successfully refrain. I'm looking all around at the interior of the restaurant which is an 1930's era log cabin when I hear my date clear his throat. Oh boy…

"Sookie, is there something wrong?" he asks with slight exasperation in his voice. Oh no, the words are coming, words that I don't want to say but the invisible barrier between common sense and verbal diarrhea is about to break…

"I'm nervous to be here with you, nervous about your intentions, wondering why you asked me out, feeling sorry for Greg the waiter because I made you mad at him because I wasn't paying attention and I know something and I don't think you know that I know but I do and it's like a great big elephant in the room that is taking up waaaaaay too much space for me to be comfortable…" I could go on and on but I see him raise his hand at me and it's as effective as if he had thrown a bucket of cold water on me. Say anything you want about this man but he commands attention and respect with minimal effort.

"Ma'am, I'm not gonna bite."

"Really?" I sputter before I realize he was being metaphorical and not literal. Now it's his turn to raise his eyebrow at me. I try to laugh it off like I was being funny but I'm pretty sure I just let the cat out of the bag.

"I promise," he rasps and leans forward, staring at me intently across the table, "There something you wanna tell me, Sookie?"

"No sir," I mumble. I want to look away but I can't because I am seeing his eyes clearly for the first time. He's taken his hat off and the lighting is good enough that I can see the deep blue-green color. My eyes drift lower to his mouth; he's chewing on his bottom lip absently as he stares back at me. I feel a most indecent ache in my center as his eyes drink me in. He's sizing me up, trying to figure me out as much as I am puzzling over him. He blinds me with his smile again and I truly see how much it shows in his eyes. He sits back in his seat, never breaking eye contact with me.

"You're something else…"he says and I start to interrupt but he silences me with an upheld finger, "I'm good at reading people, always have been, but I can't get a fix on you. Just when I think I have you figured out you throw another wrench in the cogs."

I don't know what I am about to say but I'm thankful I don't have the chance to let it out before Candy brings a basket of cheese biscuits to the table. I'm really too upset to eat but having food in my mouth means I don't have to talk. The way he's watching me chew isn't making me feel any more at ease.

I chew slow enough that I still haven't said a word when the entrée's arrive. I look at the gargantuan bowl before me and am thankful for the amount. This will buy me plenty of reasons to be silent. I know I'm being crazy awkward but I'm pretty sure at this point he's discovered that I am a candidate for the loony bin. I expect that Forrest will come up with some reason to save his steak for later and am shocked when he digs in voraciously. I know I'm staring at him with my mouth hanging open but I can't help it. He's eating…

He turns his head a little sideways and gives me a quizzical look and I drop my eyes to my dinner. We don't say another word to each other until he asks me if I would like dessert.

"I couldn't possibly eat another bite but thank you."

I feel like I'm about to cry and I can't figure out the reason behind it. Damn it, the tears are threatening to overflow the dams of my lower lids and I can't stop them.

"Sookie," he says and in an instant he's beside me, holding my hand. "Please don't cry, I am sincerely sorry if I upset you in some way…"

I hold up my hand in protest, trying to communicate that it's not his fault. I know if I say one word it's only going to make me cry harder.

Forrest leaves the table and I can see him talking to the waitress, handing her a handful of bills. He comes back to the table and grabs me gently by the elbow, handing me my purse.

"Come, there's somewhere else I want to take you."

A short while later and we're in an extremely large parking lot atop a mountain. The view of the valley below is breathtaking. Forrest opens the rear hatch and pulls a blanket out to spread across the hood. As he opens the door for me he offers his hand and I take it. He wraps his coat around me when he sees me shiver and helps me onto the hood of the Roadster. We sit in a more comfortable silence for a while and then he speaks, revealing himself as closer to me than I had thought.

"This is Clingman's Dome, well the parking lot for it anyway. You have to walk to the actual Dome and I don't think you good shoes for that on," he drawls and scoots a little closer to me. "I don't think I need to tell you that there is something different about me do I?"

"No," I practically whisper, "you don't."

"And you knew this before I asked you out didn't you?"

"Yes."

"So I can assume that you don't really have a problem with that?"

"No."

"I come up here a lot, to think, to clear my head so I don't have to think. I came up here after the first night I met you."

"Why?"

"Because you stirred something in me that I haven't felt in a long time," he whispers very close to my ear and then scoots down off of the hood to come stand directly in front of me. "May I kiss you?"

I don't hesitate for a second before I nod. He leans in slowly and I have a wonderful moonlit view of his lips slowly forming into a pucker. They're even softer than I had imagined they would be as they gently brush mine. I almost whine out loud when he breaks contact. It's too quick, too fleeting and I mourn the loss of them instantly. I'm acting on sheer instinct as I reach out and grab his shoulder and pull him to me again, crushing my mouth against his. He kisses me back ferociously, grabbing the sides of my face with his hands, cradling my jaws, caressing my ears and neck with his fingers. I'm instantly breathless and drenched. And then he pulls away, leaving me panting.

"I'd best get you home."