Sookie Stackhouse Boxed Set (Books 1-8) - Charlaine Harris [723]
“They’re good, aren’t they?” Jason asked. “The band?”
“Yeah,” I said. He was flushed with happiness. His bride was dancing with one of her cousins.
“That’s why we hurried this wedding up,” he said. “She found out she was pregnant, and we decided to go on and do it—just do it. And her favorite band was free for tonight.”
I shook my head at my brother’s impulsiveness. Then I reminded myself to keep visible signs of disapproval at a minimum. The bride’s family might take issue.
Quinn was a good dancer, though I had to show him some of the Cajun steps. All the Hotshot belles wanted a dance with Quinn, too, so I had a turn with Calvin, and Hoyt, and Catfish. Quinn was having a good time, I could tell, and on one level I was, too. But around two thirty a.m., we gave each other a little nod. He had to leave the next day, and I wanted to be alone with him. Plus, I was tired of smiling.
As Quinn thanked Calvin for the wonderful evening, I watched Jason and Crystal dancing together, both apparently delighted with each other. I knew right from Jason’s brain that he was infatuated with the shifter girl, with the subculture that had formed her, with the newness of being a supernatural. I knew from Crystal’s brain that she was exultant. She’d been determined to marry someone that hadn’t grown up in Hotshot, someone who was exciting in bed, someone able to stand up to not only her but her extended family . . . and now she had.
I made my way over to the happy couple and gave each of them a kiss on the cheek. Now Crystal was family, after all, and I would have to accept her as such and leave the two to work out their own life together. I gave Calvin a hug, too, and he held me for a second before releasing me and giving me a reassuring pat on the back. Catfish danced me around in a circle, and a drunken Hoyt took up where he’d left off. I had a hard time convincing the two that I really meant to leave, but finally Quinn and I began to make our way back to my car.
As we wended through the edges of the crowd, I spotted Amelia dancing with one of her Hotshot beaux. They were both in high spirits, both literally and libation-wise. I called to Amelia that we were leaving, and she yelled, “I’ll get a ride with someone later!”
Though I enjoyed seeing Amelia happy, it must have been Misgiving Night, because I worried about her a little. However, if anyone could take care of herself, it was Amelia.
We were moving slow when we let ourselves into the house. I didn’t check out Quinn’s head, but mine was muzzy from the noise, the clamor of all the brains around me, and the extra surges of emotion. It had been a long day. Some of it had been excellent, though. As I recalled the very best parts, I caught myself smiling down at Bob. The big cat rubbed himself against my ankles, meowing in an inquiring kind of way.
Oh, geez.
I felt like I had to explain Amelia’s absence to the cat. I squatted down and scratched Bob’s head, and (feeling incredibly foolish) I said, “Hey, Bob. She’s going to be real late tonight; she’s still dancing at the party. But don’t you worry, she’ll be home!” The cat turned his back on me and stalked out of the room. I was never sure how much human was lurking in Bob’s little feline brain, but I hoped he’d just fall asleep and forget all about our strange conversation.
Just at that moment, I heard Quinn call to me from my bedroom, and I put thoughts about Bob on hold. After all, it was our last night together for maybe weeks.
While I brushed my teeth and washed my face, I had one last flare of worry about Jason. My brother had made his bed. I hoped he could lie comfortably in it for some time. He’s a grown-up, I told myself over and over as I went into the bedroom in my nicest nightgown.
Quinn pulled me to him, said, “Don’t worry, babe, don’t worry. . . .”
I banished my brother and Bob from my thoughts and this bedroom. I brought a hand up to trace the curve of Quinn’s scalp, kept