A/N: Okay, here's the next installment. It's a bit of a filler chapter, but sometimes you have to go through flat states to get to the fun stuff! Thanks again for all of the wonderful reviews, story alerts and favoriting! You all make me want to furiously spew forth more of this story as soon as possible!

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. The lovely and talented Ms. Charlaine Harris does, and she is one lucky lady for it!

Chapter 11

SPOV

The two weeks following the May Day party were a whirlwind of activity. I'd managed to post my first blog as a returned Louisiana resident on the joys of Southern comfort food. It was in research for that entry that Sam had suggested I talk to his line chef, Lafayette. Two minutes into the conversation, I knew I'd struck a goldmine for a feature article. Lafayette wasn't your typical Southern bar cook who deep fried the piss out of everything, he was a chef with flair. He brought the flamboyance he expressed through his clothing and make up choices into his food, and created an impressive menu, especially impressive for a back woods bar. Portia had jumped on the idea when I'd sent an outline and picture and was hounding me every day to get the article done for the next issue.

When I wasn't thinking about my job or spending time with my new friend Lafayette, I was busy visiting Gran and working with the moving company to get all of my things into my new apartment. Pam had persuaded me to move on the older building close to their house. That way I have you at my fingertips, she'd insisted. It was the building I was leaning towards anyway. It had a charm and elegance that the newer place just didn't. Plus, it was a lot bigger. There were two bedrooms instead of one, and the remodeled bathroom was insane. The tub could've easily fit three people – not that I knew from personal experience mind you – and the shower was like something you'd see on those home improvement shows, all marble and glass with multiple showerheads. And the kitchen, oh the kitchen… it was modern and sleek and just screaming to be used. I couldn't wait to get unpacked and make dinner in my new place.

I felt like I'd been unpacking and moving in forever when the movers finally delivered my last box from storage. Jason had helped me move some of the bigger boxes and Pam had insisted on helping me decorate. Every day she'd stop by with more bags of stuff she'd just happened to find lying around the house. Hah, likely story. I, on the other hand, knew what she was up to. But when confronted, she'd say that it was her building anyway, so she was just investing in her future. Though she'd never admit it, Pam secretly aspired to be Martha Stewart. Decorating she was good at, cooking… well not so much. She left that to me.

I'd done my best to keep Eric out of my thoughts, but good luck with that! I dare anyone to have been manhandled (and I mean that in the best way possible) by someone as attractive and skilled as Eric and to NOT constantly think about it. My day dreams just kept getting steamier and steamier, and my dreams at night were downright pornographic. But… there wasn't anything I was planning to do about it. I was effing mortified at what behavior I could remember, much less what he'd had to fill me in on. I couldn't even imagine how embarrassing our next meeting would be. I imagined that it would involve Eric pushing my buttons and my inability to talk around the guy. Well, except when I was drunk. Apparently all of my inhibitions flew out the window when I got some gin in me.

Avoidance is my best friend sometimes. I'd managed to steer clear of him so far, though Pam did her best to try to get me to come to their house or the club. I was sure I'd turn the corner and there he'd be, with that sexy crooked grin and I'd be done for. And I'll admit it, as much as my brain told me I didn't want to see him, a different part of my anatomy wanted to do much much more.

On one of her decorating visits, Pam had told me more about Eric and his past and reputation in Stockholm. It helped me understand his behavior more, understand his underlying sense of entitlement. He had an ego, and he was cocky, but darned if I hadn't found him all the more attractive for it. I'll admit that I felt a little bad for Eric when Pam told me about Pernella and the frenzy that news had caused and their father's reaction. He may be a bit arrogant and self-assured, but no one deserved to have that happen to him. I could see why maybe he'd be a little more cautious about who he chose to spend his time with. Either way, it was still beyond me why Eric would show interest in spending time with me.

Even with the news about Pernella, I couldn't help but laugh when Pam told me that Eric's problem was that he was a little gun shy around women. Gun shy my ass. I couldn't imagine Eric being anything less than forward. I mean come on, this was the Eric that told me he wanted to rescue me before taking off my top and laying me out on his couch. The same Eric who would've had his way with me if we hadn't been interrupted, not that I'd been putting up a fight. But, yeah I wouldn't let myself think about that night… at least not too much. Point is, I had a hard time believing that Eric had any trouble in the lady department. Heck, even I had thrown myself at him. I've got to admit, as much as my drunken actions may have embarrassed me, Eric's reactions made me like him all the more. If I did do everything he said – and I don't doubt any of it for one second – he could've been really shitty and taken advantage of me, but he hadn't.

But, regardless to my understanding of him and his behavior, my attraction to him still scared the shit out of me. I'd never met someone that could make me so, well, crazy. Just thinking about him made my temperature rise. And I got a bit weak in the knees when I thought about seeing him again. Oh I knew it would happen eventually, but was okay that he'd kept his word and wasn't pressuring me. Oh hell, he'd probably moved on by now. There was no way a guy like him would be lonely and pining very long.

I was unpacking a box when a familiar phone number blinked on my phone. "Amelia!" I squealed upon answer. I hadn't talked to her since the day I arrived in Bon Temps, since she and Stavros had decided to take a honeymoon in Tahiti.

"Sookie!" She screamed back. "What is going on? Why haven't I heard from you?" Amelia had always been a bit of a mother hen for me. Kind of ironic considering that she was liable to get up to all kinds of things I wouldn't even dream of – hello, marriage to a stranger? But it was nice having a friend that kept an eye out for you.

"Oh just boring stuff Ames. Working, moving, dealing with Jason's shit. The usual." Amelia was very familiar with my stories about Jason. He really wasn't a bad guy, just a bit selfish. Being in Gran's house for three days had spurred me on to getting my own place. He'd left his dishes all over and made a total mess and acted surprised when I wasn't tripping over myself to pick up after him. Gran had spoiled him bad. I don't think he could find the dish soap if his life depended upon it. I was ready to branch out and not cook and clean for him anymore.

"Are you forgetting to tell me something?" I wracked my brain trying to think of what she meant. When I didn't say anything, she continued. "I talked to Pam."

Shit. "Oh?" I asked, hoping to sound casual. "What did she have to say?"

"Don't play coy with me Ms. Vixen. I heard about your escapades in her brother's office." She laughed so hard she snorted.

"Oh hush Amelia," I said, feeling my flush rise. "I hardly did anything with him. Well… far less than you would have done at least. He's fucking gorgeous Amelia. He looks like he just stepped out of US Weekly. You can't really blame me. And Tara kept pouring shots of anything she could find down my throat. I behaved myself for the most part."

"Why?" Just one word. I'd asked myself that a lot lately. If I wasn't worried about being a lady, I'd be having a hell of a lot more fun with one tall blond God, and not going to bed frustrated every night.

"Amelia! You know I don't hop into bed with everyone I meet." Heck, at the rate I was going, I'd never hop into anyone's bed ever again.

"You should." I gasped. I guess I was used to the fact that Amelia was so blunt, but it still threw me for a loop from time-to-time. "Sook, life is just a lot more fun when you let go and give into your cravings. How you don't die of blue walls I don't know."

"Blue walls?" I asked, pausing. "Oh sick." She laughed, of course. "Besides, I can't do anything with him anyway. He's Pam's brother!"

"So? She's practically throwing him at you. She told me how she sent you to the house when she knew you'd be alone with Eric. What's this I hear about a towel?" Did they share everything? And that was deliberate? I was going to kill her. "She wants you to bone her brother Sook. Just do it!"

"That's just too weird Amelia. That'd be like me throwing Jason and you together." Okay, so bad analogy – Amelia and Jason had had sex. "Or, well you know what I mean. Just too weird, even if I would like to take a dip in the Eric pool." Oh believe me, I'd thought about this. I'd scrutinized every touch, every nip and lick and my traitorous body ached for more, even now. What was it about this guy that made me so crazy?

"Oh, Sookie wants some good lovin'! Go get 'em girl. Hey, I gotta go. Stavros is demanding my attention." She hung up with a growl.

My phone rang five seconds later and I picked it up without looking. "Did you just give me a sex growl?"

A distinctly male voice responded with a laugh. "No, but we could arrange that if you're interested." Well shit.

"Oh." I wasn't sure what to say. "Who is this?" Please let me be wrong! I was not in any way ready to take on a conversation with Eric Northman. I wondered what he would do if I hung up and pretended the call had dropped. He wouldn't think I hung up on him, right?

"Do you often ask strangers to growl for you sexually?" Yeah, it was definitely Eric. God, could I be a bigger jackass around this guy? Nearly two weeks of nothing and our first conversation has to be this? No cool, casual conversation. Nope. It just wasn't in my stars to be normal around this guy.

"Erm, no. I thought you were my friend Amelia." I wish you were my friend Amelia. No, strike that. A large part of me was very happy that he wasn't Amelia, and that he had certain parts that Amelia didn't have… not that I was thinking about those parts, oh no.

"Should I be worried that you keep confusing me for a woman?" He asked with a laugh. "At least over the phone I could see how you'd be confused, but I'd hope you could tell the difference between Pam and I when you saw me in the towel." Oh sweet Jesus, why did he have to remind me of him wearing a towel. I groaned before I could stop myself. I could just imagine what he thought of me.

"Oh gosh no. You're very… erm… manl-" Was I just about to call him manly? I mean, he was, but could I ever live that down if I said that to him? "Erm, I-I would never confuse you for a woman Eric."

"I should hope not. I'd be a bit worried after what you groped the other night." Sweet Jesus. "Where've you been Sookie? Have you been avoiding me?"

"Ha," I got out. "Avoiding you? No… no. I've been busy." He was teasing me and I was acting like an uptight nun.

"Too busy for me?" He asked lowering his voice. Gosh, why was he so seductive even over a cell phone? If there was ever a man that could run a phone-sex company, it was Eric Northman. "I was hoping you'd come to me. I've been waiting for you." A small part of me jumped for joy at that proclamation. Okay, okay, a big part. Eric Northman waiting around for me to call? No fricking way.

"Oh." Yes, that was all I could get out. Was I really having this conversation? I'd played through all kinds of scenarios of when I'd see Eric again – most of them involved me acting like a fool and him dismissing me. Well at least I'd got one part right. I was completely frozen. Why did I lose my ability to think when it came to this man? "Well, I've been busy. I'm sure Pam told you I'm moving into one of your properties?"

"Yes, she told me that you'd picked the two-bedroom. I always loved that building. Maybe I can come over some time and you can show me what you've done with the place. We are practically neighbors now. It'd only be hospitable. I think the term she used was 'easy access'."

"Erm, yes. I suppose that is true." Was everything he said kind of naughty, or was I just reading into things? "Thanks again for setting up the paperwork for the lease."

"It's my pleasure Sookie, but that is not why I called. I was wondering if you were free for dinner tonight."

"Well, I was going to do some writing and finish unpacking…" I was so not ready to face him yet. I was going to need to hop into that cold shower just hearing his voice, I can't imagine what I would do if I saw him in person yet.

"Oh that's too bad. I was hoping I could introduce you to Alcide Herveaux. I have a reservation for the chef's table in his kitchen." Alcide Herveaux? He was one of the chefs I'd been trying to get an interview with since I'd decided to make the move to Shreveport. Portia had told me he was the up and coming star from the Southeast. She'd just die if I could get an exclusive with him. "I asked him if he'd take a few minutes to talk to you for your magazine."

"How'd you do that? He's infamous for not giving interviews!" Of course Eric would find a way. He seemed like the kind of man that got what he wanted, no matter what it took. And for whatever reason, he wanted to take me to dinner.

"Let's just say he owes me a favor. But, if you're too busy…"

"No!" I exclaimed. "No, I can definitely go."

"Good," he said. I could hear the satisfaction in his voice. "The reservation is for 9:30, and Alcide will do the interview after the last service at 11. I'll pick you up at nine."

"Perfect." Oh God, what was I going to wear? I had no clothes. Was this a date? I wouldn't even let myself consider the possibility. No, no it definitely was a business venture.

"And Sookie?" He asked with a pause. "Try to keep your top on this time."