I was just finishing the last touches to the salad, when I heard his car coming down the road. I caught my breath as a little thrill shot through my stomach. I took a deep breath and tried to focus. Oh, come on, Jo. Keep it in your pants.

Roman and I have known each other for some time now. We met in the Reserves, felt a mutual, instant attraction but for some inexplicable reason, neither one of us wanted to act upon it. At times the urge has been strong, but there was always this invisible barrier. We’ve been through hell and half of Georgia together, from engaging in hire power in Iraq to burying family members. No one ever dared to say anything bad about Roman to me and vice versa. It was an odd connection, but a strong one - an unconditional love for an unconventional relationship.

Roman Jeffers was a damn good looking man: 6’2’’, probably 240 pounds and solid, rock-hard muscles. He was so well muscled that he almost looked swollen. His skin was light, coffee-colored, the result of his bi-racial parents. His face mirrored his mixed ancestry, sculptured and lush mixing together to produce a face that was model-beautiful. Yes, Roman was gorgeous, and he knew it.

He got out of his brand-spanking new, dark green Camaro, and seemed to strike a pose. Actually, he was scanning the house and grounds, but his looks, clothes, and well – the whole damn package, made you think of an ad in men’s fashion magazines.

Women and men adored him. Women turned into giggling globs around him and men were just as bad. Men turned into stomping, chest puffing, posturing, alpha-male wannabes. Yep, yep, yep, Roman was a piece of work.

I went out to meet him. As we walked towards each other, I felt like we were reenacting the showdown at the OK Corral. We slowly came to a stop several feet apart, slightly swaying as we sought our footing and balance. We stared at each other…..long stare and pause….long stare and pause…then we simultaneously started to chuckle. His face broke into a sexy, sly smile and he reached out his left arm to me, inviting me to come closer.

Our arms went around each other, and we hugged close, but maintaining a respectable, non-crotch touching distance. I gave myself a few seconds to really feel the moment, feel his powerful arms around me, his rock-like muscles under my hands, and the smell of soap and cologne that clung to him. He smelt so good.

Okay, that’s enough of that. I snapped out of my lust near-coma, pushed away and figuratively shoved on my ‘best bud’ mask. I tugged on his hand in the direction of the house, “Let’s get out of this heat!”

We quickly fell into our old, familiar, and comfortable behavior. We laughed, insulted, and confided, and stroked each other’s egos to a high shine.

After enjoying my damn good steak dinner (if I say so myself), and drinking his excellent wine choice, we went outside so that he could smoke a cigar. The sun had started to go down and the heat was getting tolerable. The stars were coming out, it was a clear late-summer night, and the crickets were putting on quite a concert.

Roman was staring out at the woods, deep in thought. Without turning his head, he asked me about Sam Merlotte. “What was your take on Merlotte?”

I sat down in a patio chair and propped my feet up on the deck railing. “Well, either he suffers from severe ADHD or he was very nervous about meeting me. At first blush, he seems harmless, but what the hell do I know?”

Roman grabbed a chair and sat to the right of me, propping up his feet, as well. He took a deep breath, “Well, he always seems to be in the thick of things - lots of dead bodies in his neck of the woods.”

He looked at me and then became very interested in something on my face. He reached over and brushed his finger under my left eye, “Eye lash.” He showed it to me. “Make a wish and blow, Jo.” I chuckled and blew the lash away; I didn’t bother making a wish.

For a moment, he stared at me with a curious look that I can’t describe. It was as if he was waiting for me to say something.

I could see him changing mental gears. He turned away startling back into his chair, staring out at the woods. He played with the butt of his cigar, tapping off the cooled ashes, “For the amount of time that I’ve been spending with Homeland Security and FBI agents I think I should change the shield on my cruiser.” We both chuckled.

He took a big puff and let it out slowly. “Northman is a major concern. Mr. Eric Northman… is said to be over a thousand years old (I let out a ‘wow’ before I could stifle the impulse) and is said to be physically very powerful. Apparently, age equals strength. He may even have other special powers.” He took another long draw on the cigar; I didn’t mind the smoke, I actually liked the smell of a good cigar. The aroma of his cigar was a combination of fruit and flowers. I waited for him to continue.

“He is a ‘sheriff’ (he did the finger quotes thing) in the vamp society. It seems vamp sheriffs can dole out punishments as they see fit. We think he’s crossed the line and is the reason behind a lot of our missing persons. I don’t give a shit what he does to vamps, but I do care very much about what he does to humans.” He tapped his cigar against the arm of his chair and was silent for a few seconds, then glanced over at me. “He’ll fuck up and we’ll be there to get him, it’s just a matter of time.” I nodded my head ‘yes’ in agreement with him.

“We’re not sure how all the supernaturals societies work, but we find out more and more everyday. A lot of unhappy humans have a lot to get off their chests…There’s a shit load of stuff going on. I need you to be very visible to them. Push their boundaries. Keep them guessing and find out all that you can.” I nodded ‘yes’ again. “The last sheriff, Dearborn was way in over his head. You’ll handle it. You just came back from Hell; and Hell is the same no matter where you go.” I did another ‘yes’ nod.

The wine was starting to affect me; I was feeling very relaxed and a little sleepy. I did a full body stretched and then twisted my back side to side to pop my spine.

He asked, “You okay.” I nodded again, “Yep, I’m good.” I then rolled my head side to side, popping my neck.

He leaned over the arm of his chair and whispered, “Are you getting tired?”

I lied, “No, just stiff. Been in a car all day and I haven’t worked out in a couple of days and I’m really feeling it.”

He reached over with his left arm and placed his hand on the back of my neck and started to massage it. For a moment, I was instantly wide awake, the bright light of realization fully illuminating my mind. I took a deep breath and gave myself permission to relax. Oh, what the hell, it’s just Roman.

Roman’s hand slowly moved down my spine. His strong fingers were firm but gentle, his massaging worked out knots and relaxed tension. His hand left a path of sensual warmth in its wake. I relaxed further and sank into the pleasure of the massage. It was like eating Godiva chocolate, while lying in a warm oil bath, drinking the perfect glass of merlot…my southern region stated to tingle…Red alert, red alert, all hands on deck! Inappropriate thoughts – inappropriate feelings! Full stop, Jo!

I literally shot up ram rod straight; I nervously chuckled, hoping to cover my freak out attack, “Roman, if we keep this up, I might have to propose marriage… Seriously. I mean it”. I did a feeble laugh.

My proclamation shocked and froze Roman in place, his hand still on my back. The look of shock on his face turned into an exaggerated look of terror. Or at least I thought he was exaggerating it. He recovered, patted me on my back and then withdrew back into his space. “Jo, you’re scary.”

Chuckle, chuckle, “It is part of my charm, Rome.”

He bugged out his eyes and shook his head. “Real scary…”

We both then did our best to ignore the uneasiness of the moment by re-adjusting our bodies and minds. We then went back to our discussion regarding the supernaturals in and around the parish. We talked well into the night.

Roman said that our investigations would have no land barriers and we would have to go where and when we were needed. If the creatures were as strong as suspected, then it could possibly take every available officer in a fifty mile radius to subdue them.

“Oh, I want you to come with me to Shreveport tomorrow. We’re going to a bar over there. It belongs to the vampire, Eric Northman, I mentioned him earlier. Time you met the best of the worse.”

I actually did a dramatic swallow and it wasn’t an act. “Oh wow, this is…so, he’s a real –“

“Yep, a real vampire. This will be your first time meeting one, right?” I nodded ‘yes.’ His face took on a serious look. “He’s not what he will seem to be. It is a predator and is only looking to kill and feed.” He looked directly at me, “Don’t ever forget that, Jo.”

I nodded and then had to ask, “Have you seen him in action or did he try…” I waited for him to fill in the blank. He took his time.

“Let’s just say, we are not best buds, he and I. He deserves to be staked and hung out to fry in the sun.” Whoa – something really bad must have happened.

He continued, “I want you to meet him with me by your side. That way he’ll know that you are part of a force that has your back.” He paused, “He has a lot of rental property all over the parish, so you’ll probably run into him and will have to deal with his ass.” He smiled gently and seemed to make a joke, “Don’t worry, I won’t let him cut you from the herd and eat you.”

“Roman, I can handle myself. If you don’t think so then I shouldn’t be here.”

He smiled and nodded, “Yeah, you can take it, and I know it. I just started to think about putting you in this…after Iraq –,“ I interrupted him, “Roman…I really need this. I think I really do. I need to get in touch with my inner badass, you know?” We both laughed.

He then leaned over and grabbed me in a hug, whispering in my ear, “Don’t worry, Jo. I got your back.”

I answered back, “I know, and I got yours, too.” This was getting way too serious, “… Except, Roman…when you have women fighting over you – you’re on your own then. Hell hath no fury like two bitches in heat, fighting over meat.”

“Damn girl, where do you get this shit from –“

“Hey, don’t start with me, MAN WHORE –“

“Jesus, Jo! Hey…don’t you slam me like that in front of anyone around here, okay? It’s just our thing. Okay?”

“Roman, come on! Have I ever done that? I can’t believe you just said that!”

“No…okay, what I’m saying is (and then he smiled) …as women age, they get crazy and start doing weird stuff…,” I gave him a very impressive punch in the arm that literally hurt me more than it did him.

We decided to ‘call it a night’ and as he was leaving I tried to make a point of thanking him for my job, our friendship and other uncomfortable subjects. He waved me off, and acted like I was offending him. “Let’s see if you’re thanking me in a month.”

After he drove away, I stayed up a little longer, too stoked to sleep. Just for a moment, I allowed my inner sixteen year old to come out and I did a body shimmy shake, silently screaming like a drag queen. Damn, I’m going to meet a vampire tomorrow! A real fucking vampire!

My glee quickly drained away and was replaced by bewilderment mixed with fear, “Damn, I’m going to meet a vampire tomorrow. Shit…”