Gone With the Nerd (Nerds, #4)(12)
Author: Vicki Lewis Thompson

Gradually, understanding replaced the confusion in her eyes. "Let me get this straight. You packed for the trip with Kristen, and when I asked you up here for the weekend, you grabbed the already packed suitcase, forgetting about the Kristen condoms?"

"That’s about the size of it."

"Oh." She gazed at him as if lost in thought. "Then why were you so hot to kiss me a few minutes ago?"

There was the really tough question. And hot was the operative word, all right. He wasn’t proud of his lack of control. "Unfortunately, I seem to be attracted to you."

"Is that right?" She perked up a little upon hearing that. "Is it a new thing or an old thing?"

Another tough question. "An unrecognized thing. An unacknowledged thing. A thing that has been lying dormant and then suddenly popped up." Whoops. What an incredibly bad choice of words.

"I see."

"In any case, I can guarantee that I didn’t count on that when I agreed to this trip. I should have factored it in, but I didn’t."

"So you want me, but you don’t want to want me."

"That’s right. I’m committed to Kristen." Then he remembered he wasn’t the only person who was involved with someone else. "For that matter, what about Trace?"

She looked uneasy. "Well, yes. There’s Trace."

"Damn right there’s Trace." He allowed himself a little male indignation on the part of the wronged Trace Edwards.

"My relationship with him is … complicated."

"Meaning what, exactly?" He hoped she wouldn’t say they had an open relationship, where they could sleep with anybody who took their fancy. He knew that happened in Hollywood, but he didn’t like thinking that Zoe subscribed to such a philosophy.

She hesitated.

Flynn decided he had to know what the deal was with Trace. It was important. "Does he care what you do with other guys?"

"Yes, he cares. And you’re right. We’re each committed to someone, so there can’t be any fooling around. Those Kristen condoms threw me, but I’m back on track, now. We’ll both be careful from now on."

He wished she wouldn’t keep referring to them as Kristen condoms, as if they had his girlfriend’s name on them, along with a label that warned against using them for any other purpose. He wouldn’t be using them for any other purpose, but still, they were there, in case of an emergency.

And what sort of emergency would that be, Flynn, old man? The kind where Zoe’s driving you so crazy you can’t keep your pants zipped another minute? God, he hoped he was up to the task of resisting her for the next thirty-six hours. He should have brought a framed picture of Kristen to put on the dresser.

"Flynn, if we’re going to manage this, you have to stop looking at me like that."

He snapped out of his lustful daze. "I wasn’t looking at you any particular way."

"You were, too. You were looking at me as if you wanted to eat me up with a spoon."

He groaned and ran a hand over his face, as if he could somehow rub off his lustful expression. "Maybe we should just go to bed."

"Do you think that would work? It’s worth a try. We might be awful in bed. We probably would be awful in bed. Most couples don’t hit it off right away. So we’d have a disastrous experience and be over this problem in a jiffy."

Instantly he was aroused. He didn’t think there was a chance in hell they’d be awful in bed, not with the kind of energy they would each bring to the project. "I meant go to bed individually, each in our own rooms."

"Oh." Pink tinged her cheeks. "I misunderstood. I certainly hope you don’t think I was being too aggressive for making that suggestion. I was only trying to consider all the possible solutions to our problem."

"I don’t think you’re being too aggressive." Part of him, the part currently in charge, wouldn’t mind if she’d be more aggressive. "But I doubt it would work."

"You think we’d have fun in bed, don’t you?"

"Yes." Fun didn’t even begin to describe what he thought they’d have.

She nodded. "Me, too. Okay, I’m leaving for my own bedroom now and closing the door. Sleep well."

As she started out the door, an eerie howl filled the night. "Yikes!" Zoe raced back to him and hurled herself into his arms.

Flynn held her tight as the howl came again, sending a chill through him. He had no doubt Bigfoot was out there in the woods, and this could be his chance to see the mythical creature he’d studied so eagerly as a kid. On the other hand, he had a trembling Zoe in his arms and she needed his comfort.

To hell with Bigfoot.

As the second howl died away, Zoe shuddered. She wasn’t proud of herself for clinging to Flynn like the peel on a banana, but that howl had totally freaked her out. With the side of her face flattened against his chest, she could hear his heart beating fast, so he might not be all that copacetic with it, either.

"I’m afraid to ask what that was," she said, not moving an inch.

"It’s the trademark howl of a Sasquatch."

She tightened her grip on Flynn, noticing in the process how nice that felt, to be hugging her lawyer. Who knew? "I really didn’t want that information."

"Sorry."

"It could be a hoax, right? A local businessman running around in a furry suit with a tape recorder under his arm?"

"Possibly."

"You don’t sound as if you believe that." She desperately wanted to believe it, even if that meant she had no more excuse to hug Flynn.

"I can’t picture a sane person wanting to try it, Zoe. For one thing, you might get shot by someone trying to make a name for himself. For another, if you got caught you’d never live down the humiliation. How many business owners would run that kind of risk just to boost tourism? It’s not logical."

"But is a Sasquatch logical?" She liked this—wrapped tight in Flynn’s arms, feeling cozy and safe while they discussed the potential existence of Bigfoot. His voice rumbled in her ear, and his body heat was taking away the shivers of dread. Also, she liked the way he stroked her back—firm enough to let her know he was there, yet gentle enough to be soothing.

She wondered what his hands would feel like if he was going for a sexual response. From the way he was touching her now, she suspected he’d know exactly how much pressure to exert. The perfect pressure. Oh, baby.

"Sasquatch is about as logical as the pyramids," he said.

"Huh?" She would have to think a little faster to keep up with this guy.

"We still don’t know how the Egyptians built those things, but there they are, solid evidence of an unbelievable architectural feat. Same with the structures the Incas built. Did creatures from outer space land and give them some help? That’s one explanation."

She could get used to this business of cuddling with Flynn. "Do you believe in aliens?"

"I pretty much do. Think of the vastness of the universe. I don’t know if other beings have made it to this planet yet, but we can’t be the only place that supports life. Which leads me to Bigfoot."

"Bigfoot’s an alien?"

"That’s one possibility."

Flynn’s thought processes intrigued her. She never would have expected her sedate, conservative lawyer to believe in Bigfoot and aliens. "Flynn, do you subscribe to the Enquirer?"

"No." He chuckled. "Do you?"

"No. But what you said sounded as if it could be a headline story. I thought you might have read it there."

"I subscribe to the Wall Street Journal and the Harvard Law Review."

"Now that I would believe. That’s more like the Flynn I know."

There was a long pause. "You think you know me?"

A subtle change in his tone caused her to look up. She found herself gazing into gray eyes filled with good old-fashioned lust. His dark-rimmed glasses made that lust seem even more potent in a still-waters-run-deep sort of way. As a test, she eased her h*ps forward, and encountered more evidence that Flynn was fired up and ready to go.

Her heart started racing again, and not from the threat of Sasquatch. Now that she understood what was going on with her nerd mentor, she ought to move away. But she couldn’t make herself. A completely aroused Flynn was a new and delicious concept she wanted to savor for a moment.

His voice grew husky. "I’ve been thinking about that idea you had."

"I’ve had a dozen ideas recently." But she knew which idea he was talking about. "I’ve had a hundred."

"Show-off." So much heat was being generated by the places where her body touched his that she wouldn’t wonder if their clothes started to smoke.

"All my ideas involve getting nak*d with you."

Her mouth grew moist. In point of fact, moist was her middle name at this very moment. And what a coincidence: here they were in a bedroom, a bedroom stocked with condoms.

Then she remembered why they had condoms and who they were intended for. Not her. Her conscience began to shoulder its way forward through her misty fog of selfish desire. Flynn belonged to someone else. He’d made that point and they’d been about to retire to separate bedrooms when that ungodly howl had sent her running for safety.

But the howling was over, at least for now, and she needed to be a good girl and stop tempting Flynn. He didn’t want to want her. He’d said so himself. Yet he was only human and she’d been rubbing up against him for a good ten minutes. She knew the effect she had on men. It was the quality that had made her a box-office favorite.

So she did the decent thing and backed up . . . at least an inch.

"Don’t." His arms tightened around her, eliminating that inch.

"I have to. This isn’t right." It’s perfect, but not right.

"Then why does it feel so good?"

"Whether or not it feels good is beside the point." She put more effort into her escape plan and wiggled out of his arms.

"Zoe. . ."

"I’m sorry, Flynn." She edged toward the door. "I shouldn’t have thrown myself at you like that. It’s not fair."

He took a step toward her. "I’ve lost track of what’s fair."

She backed toward the door. "We’re not doing this."

He followed her. "I think we are,"

"No." She held up her hand like a traffic cop. "You’ll hate yourself in the morning."

He took her hand and began kissing the tips of her fingers. "Maybe, but I can’t seem to make myself care about that right now."

The feel of his lips mesmerized her. They were incredibly soft, tantalizingly warm, and so supple she swallowed a groan of longing. Those lips belonged to Kristen "Crackers" Kecbier, the woman with a rightful claim to the condoms and the man who’d bought them. Zoe had broken Margo’s heart fifteen years ago by stealing her boyfriend. History would not repeat itself.

She pulled her hand free. "No, Flynn. Good night." As she walked down the hall toward her bedroom, his sigh of resignation followed her.

"Thanks," he said as she reached her bedroom door. "I think."

She almost turned around. But he was part of a couple and she refused to be the "other woman." Been there, done that, bought the T-shirt. Walking into her bedroom, she closed the door.

A noise outside made her pause to listen, and her chest tightened in fear. Someone .. . or something … was running through the forest. Something very big. And a terrible smell was making its way through the chinks and crannies of the cabin. Damn! She couldn’t go back to Flynn’s bedroom like a scared rabbit. She knew what would happen if she went to him for comfort.

So she stood there holding her breath and shaking uncontrollably as the crackling, crashing sounds gradually died away. Sheesh. And Luanne had said nothing ever happened in Long Shaft.

Chapter Nine

When he heard something charging through the woods and smelled the foul odor, Flynn hurried out into the hall, prepared to defend Zoe if necessary. He expected and fervently hoped that she’d come tearing out of her bedroom and rush to him for protection. No such luck.

Whoever or whatever was out there was moving away from the cabin, not toward it, which muted the danger factor. Zoe had probably decided to tough it out rather than risk another close encounter with Flynn. He was impressed with her resolve.

Or, and this was a depressing thought, maybe she wasn’t all that motivated to have sex with him. He’d been so carried away by the excitement of bodily contact that he might have imagined her response. All that heat could have been coming from him and bouncing off of her, making her seem as hot as he was when she was actually being polite.

Any minute now he’d start feeling guilty for suggesting they get horizontal, but so far all he felt was a high level of frustration because they hadn’t done that. A walk outside would help clear his mind and get his buddy to relax. Yeah, he definitely needed a walk to cool down.

Oh, who was he kidding? With Zoe forbidden to him, he wanted to investigate the area and look for evidence to indicate what had run past the cabin just now. He’d heard the rhythm of two feet hitting the ground, not four, so he doubted it had been a bear. And there was that smell.

He wished to hell he had a flashlight. In the morning maybe he’d drive to the nearest hardware store and buy one. They needed a flashlight in case of emergencies, not to mention potential Bigfoot sightings. The cabin should have come with one, but it hadn’t. He was stuck with the butane flamethrower for now.

Retrieving it from the hearth where he’d replaced it after the Luanne incident, he started to leave. Then he remembered that Zoe might be startled if she happened to look out her bedroom window and see him roaming around in the dark pointing his flame every which way, so he walked down the hall and tapped on her door with the tip of the lighter.

"Who is it?"

"Bigfoot." Cheap shot, but he couldn’t resist. Who did she think it would be? "Not funny."

"I know. Sorry. Listen, I’m going outside to look around."

"Then I’m coming with you."

He didn’t think that was wise. Too much togetherness in the dark wasn’t a good thing. "That’s okay. Maybe you should stay here and—"