Dead Ever After

lotion, and went outside wearing dark glasses and carrying a book. Of course it was hot, really hot, and the blue sky was decorated with only a few random clouds. Insects hummed and buzzed, and the Stackhouse yard bloomed and bloomed with flowers and fruit and all sorts of vegetation. It was like living in a botanical garden, except without the gardeners to keep the yard mowed.
    I relaxed on my old chaise and let the warmth soak into me. After five minutes, I flipped over.
    In the way your brain will work hard to keep you from being 100 percent content, the notion suddenly popped into my head that it would be nice to listen to my iPod, a belated birthday gift from me to me, but I’d left it in my locker at Merlotte’s. Instead of going inside to get my old radio, I lay there and let the lack of the iPod nag at me. I thought, If I just jump in the car, I can be back here listening to music in twenty minutes, tops. Finally, after saying “Dammit” a few times, I dashed in the house, pulled on a sleeveless gauze cover-up and buttoned it, slid into my flip-flops, and grabbed my keys. As often happened, I didn’t meet a single car on my way to the bar. Sam’s truck was parked at his trailer, but I figured he must need some rest and recuperation as much as I did, so I didn’t stop. I unlocked the back door of the bar and trotted in to my locker. I didn’t meet anyone along the way, and from the low buzz I could hear and the visual aid of very few cars in the parking lot, I could tell we were having a slow day. I was out in less than a minute.
    I’d tossed the iPod through the open window of my car and was about to open the door when a voice said, “Sookie? What you doing?”
    I looked around and spotted Sam. He was in his yard, and he’d just straightened up from raking twigs and leaves.
    “Getting my iPod,” I said. “What about you?”
    “The rain knocked down some stuff, and this is the first chance I’ve had to get it cleaned up.” He wasn’t wearing a shirt, and the blond-red hairs on his chest shone in the bright light. Of course, he was sweating. He looked relaxed and peaceful.
    “Your shoulder,” he said, nodding at it. “How come it’s looking so good?”
    “Pam came by,” I said. “She was celebrating being made sheriff.”
    “That’s good news,” he said, while he went over to his garbage can and dumped the armful of trash in. I glanced down at my shoulder. It still showed reddened dimples and it was tender, but it was maybe two weeks better than it should have been. “You and Pam have always gotten along good.”
    I went over to the hedge. “Yeah, some good news for a change. Ummm . . . your hedge is looking nice and even.”
    “I just gave it a little trim,” he said self-consciously. “I know people laugh about it.”
    “It looks great,” I assured him. Sam had made a double-wide into a little slice of suburbia.
    I stepped through the gate in the hedge, my flip-flops thwacking on the pavers Sam had laid to form a path. He propped his rake against the only tree in his yard, a small oak. I looked more closely at him. “You got stuff in your hair,” I said, and he tilted his head down to me. His hair was always such a tangle, of course he wouldn’t have even felt anything in there. I removed one twig with great care, then extricated a leaf. I had to get very close to do that. Gradually, as I worked, I became aware that Sam was standing absolutely still. The air was still, too. A mockingbird did his best to sing louder than all the other birds. A yellow butterfly drifted through the air and landed on the hedge.
    Sam’s hand came up to take mine the next time I reached up to his hair. He held it against his chest, and he looked at me. I came a few inches closer. He bent his head and kissed me. The air around us seemed to tremble in the heat.
    After a long, long kiss, Sam came up for air. “All right?” he asked quietly.
    I nodded. “All right,” I whispered, and our lips touched again, this time with more fire. I was completely pressed up against him now, and with only a bikini and a gauze cover-up on me and shorts on him, we were sharing plenty of skin. Hot, oily, scented skin. Sam made a noise deep in his throat that sounded suspiciously like a growl.
    “You mean it?” he asked.
    “I do,” I said, and the kiss deepened, though I hadn’t thought that possible. This was so fireworks and Fourth of July and oh my God I wanted him so bad. I thought if we didn’t get