Gone With the Nerd (Nerds, #4)(16)
Author: Vicki Lewis Thompson

Maybe the full moon was having an effect on her and Flynn. The moon had been officially full the night before— Zoe kept track of such things—but tonight it had seemed almost full. In some magazine or other she’d read that the full moon had an effect on people, as well as the ocean tides, but she couldn’t remember exactly what it was.

She’d bet Flynn would know. When she heard his footsteps corning down the hall again, she decided to ask him. "Flynn?"

"What?"

"Do you know if the full moon has an effect on people?"

"You mean like werewolves? I don’t believe in that. Werewolves are in a different category from a Sasquatch, in my opinion."

She loved hearing him talk. She’d never realized that before, but going to his office had been a treat to her ears. His voice had good resonance, the kind that actors worked to get and Flynn had naturally. He’d be good at voice-overs, not that he’d ever consider getting into that cutthroat field when he was making so much money as an entertainment lawyer.

So his wonderful voice was a bonus attribute, destined to be appreciated by clients… and lovers. But she wouldn’t go there. "I meant does the moon pull at people the way it pulls at the ocean? I thought I heard that, but now I can’t remember the particulars."

"I see what you mean. We’re ninety percent water, so yeah, I guess we would be affected by the gravitational pull of the moon. Why are you asking?"

I thought that might explain… our little problem."

He was silent for several seconds. "I don’t think that’s it."

"You don’t?" "No."

"So what is the reason why we’re suddenly attracted to each other?"

"I think it’s because we’re finally alone together. Good night, Zoe." He closed his bedroom door.

Zoe stared into space and thought about that. What if she and Flynn were destined to be lovers, but they’d never figured that out because they’d never been alone? And now they were alone, and Flynn was committed to someone else. She wasn’t, but he didn’t know that.

She wouldn’t tell him, either. He was barely holding on to his commitment to Kristen as it was. They had two nights to get through, and this one was almost in the can. Daytime would be a piece of cake, so tomorrow night was the big hurdle.

They could always go back to LA tomorrow, which would guarantee nothing would happen between them.

But she instinctively believed Flynn was the key to her getting this part. Maybe she was being selfish, but she really wanted his help. She wanted more than his help, but she’d control herself. The more she got into Vera’s character, the easier that would be.

As Flynn undressed, he thought about the cobbler, and not as a masturb**ion aid, either. Something about that cobbler hadn’t seemed quite right. The smell was a little off, and when he’d run water through the disposal, foam had bubbled up out of it.

That could have been a problem with the disposal, which looked like it had been installed right after the invention of electricity. Or it could have been the cobbler. A woman who only made the stuff during a full moon had to be a strange person. Maybe she added strange ingredients to the cobbler.

In any case, Flynn was glad that he and Zoe hadn’t eaten the cobbler. Food poisoning would put a serious crimp in their plans. They needed food they could actually eat, though. In the morning he’d take a drive into town, buy a flashlight, and pick up some groceries.

He climbed into the uncomfortable twin bed and discovered it was too short. The bed Zoe was using would fit him better. He felt his mind sliding into the possibility of sharing that bed with her and yanked it right back out of that quicksand. The mere suggestion of sharing her bed had his penis stirring restlessly.

So he had a bed that was too short for him. So what? The length of the mattress wouldn’t matter, though, because he probably wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway. Maybe he should check out the script so that he’d know in advance exactly what he might be in for if they had any more read-throughs.

Propping himself up with a lumpy pillow against the rough plaster wall at the end of the bed, he picked up the script for The Billion-Dollar Pill. Now there was an invention he didn’t need. His weight always stayed the same, his health had been excellent all his life, and his libido was in fine shape. At the moment he wished his libido would go into temporary hibernation.

He flipped to the scene he’d been reading with Zoe and continued on past where they’d stopped. Oh, great. Tony kissed Vera. That meant the fun and games were about to start.

If he could steer Zoe to the next scene, in which Tony did some of his investigative work trying to find out who was stalking Vera, that might not be so tough to read. Oh, wait. Vera wasn’t in that scene. Zoe would want to skip over to the next one, and Flynn didn’t like the looks of it at all. Tony and Vera were back in the lab, alone again. That was trouble.

VERA

You’re making me nervous.

Vera moves around the lab checking test tubes, typing notes into her computer.

TONY

I’m not doing anything.

VERA

That’s the problem. You’re not doing anything.

TONY

I’m guarding your body. But if you’d rather I did that standing up, fine with me.

Tony stands.

VERA

You shouldn’t have kissed me last night. Now I can’t concentrate.

TONY

I can concentrate just fine.

VERA

Of course you can! All you have to do is watch me! How hard is that?

TONY

Some parts are very hard.

VERA

If that’s some sort of double entendre, I’m not going to acknowledge it. I have work to do. I wish … I wish you weren’t here.

TONY

I’d love to accommodate you, toots, but you’re so oblivious you’d let yourself be kidnapped. These jokers want that formula.

VERA

I wouldn’t give it to them.

Tony comes forward and leans on the lab table. TONY

Yes, you would. I’m guessing it would take about five minutes of torture before you’d—

VERA

Torture? You’re not serious.

TONY

You have really soft skin. Vera.

VERA

You’re trying to scare me.

TONY

Yeah, I am. I don’t like thinking of you tied up and at somebody’s mercy… unless that person is me. I’ll bet you’d like the kinky stuff.

VERA

Don’t project your warped sexual appetites on me . TONY

Oh yeah, you’d like it. I can see it in your eyes. VERA

Can you see in my eyes that I’m going to report you for sexual harassment?

Tony runs a finger down Vera’s arm and she shivers.

TONY

No, you’re not.

Vera tries unsuccessfully to concentrate on her computer screen.

VERA

You are so incredibly arrogant.

TONY

And it turns you on, doesn’t it?

VERA

Yes.

Flynn closed the script, slapping the pages together so loud that Zoe probably heard him in the next room. But he couldn’t read anymore, not in his current state. If he’d known the story was all about sex, he would never have agreed to come up here with her. Oh, hell yes, he would have, because he’d been too dumb to realize the dangers.

He’d stupidly thought that once he’d decided Kristen would be his future, no other woman would ever appeal to him because lusting after someone else would be counterproductive and illogical. His current counterproductive and illogical obsession lay a short walk down the hall in a bed that would be much more comfortable than this one.

She would let him into that bed, too. She didn’t seem overly concerned about compromising her relationship with Trace Edwards. Flynn didn’t admire that lack of loyalty, but he couldn’t very well condemn it when he was nearly as guilty, maybe more guilty. He’d initiated their kiss, after all.

And the fondling. He had to take full responsibility for the fondling. Maybe he hadn’t anticipated that the fondling would extend to giving her a cli**x, but he should have. She was a passionate woman. He knew that from her movies.

Throwing back the covers, he got out of bed and grabbed his laptop. He’d write a tender e-mail to Kristen, that’s what he’d do. While writing to her he would picture how wonderful next weekend would be. Maybe she was more passionate than he remembered.

But as he sat on the edge of the bed, fingers resting on the keyboard, he couldn’t think of a single thing to say to Kristen. He had a hundred things he wanted to say to Zoe and even more things that he wanted to do to Zoe, but when it came to Kristen, his mind was a blank. Snapping the laptop closed again, he put it back on the dresser and took off his glasses. Then he turned out the light and stretched out on his too-short bed.

Lying in the dark with his hands propped behind his head, he listened to the sounds of the forest. They were normal sounds now—the wind through the tops of the trees, the hoot of an owl, the scrape of a branch against the roof of the cabin. No Sasquatch howls.

For hours he drifted between oblivion and wakefulness. He was a guy who liked routine, and his routine had been seriously compromised. He also liked his own bed, his own sheets, his own pillows.

Sometime in the early morning he thought he heard soft footsteps near the cabin, but he was too exhausted to get up and investigate. Maybe Luanne was out skulking around again. Or maybe some creature of the night, like a raccoon, was prowling the perimeter.

Or maybe it was his imagination, still on overdrive from seeing the Sasquatch footprint and then making out in the woods with Zoe. With a sigh he turned on his stomach, hooked his toes over the edge of the mattress, and went to sleep.

Chapter Twelve

Zoe slept well, probably as a result of the orgasm Flynn had provided the night before. She’d love to thank him for that, but the subject was better left closed. The sun was up, but the trees filtered the light coming in the window. Zoe was used to full-blast sunlight at her place on the beach.

This felt different, more fuzzy and intimate, like a movie shot slightly out of focus. Outside the cabin the birds were chirping their little hearts out. What a happy sound. Morning might be a good time to make love, although she’d never settled in with a guy long enough to find out. She wondered if Flynn was awake.

She imagined creeping into his bed when he was still half-asleep and seducing him. Of course she didn’t have the nerve, and besides, it was the wrong thing to do. But all her thoughts about sex made her too restless to go back to sleep, so she climbed out of bed and got dressed in the sweats and sweatshirt she’d worn the night before.

Amazing how comfortable she felt in such geeky clothes. She’d never in a million years walk down Rodeo Drive in an outfit like this, but out here in the woods fashion didn’t matter. It was more liberating than she would have thought.

Leaving her feet bare so she wouldn’t make so much noise walking around in the cabin, she left her room. Flynn’s door remained closed, so maybe he was still asleep. Or he could be awake with a morning woody.

She’d heard that could happen with guys, especially frustrated ones. But she couldn’t dwell on that possibility or she’d get herself worked up again. Today they would behave like brother and sister.

Although she’d like some coffee and it was even something she knew how to make, she decided against starting it yet. Brewing coffee might bring Flynn out of his room, and then they’d have the whole sexual thing to deal with again. For a little while she’d enjoy the peace of this hazy sunlit morning.

Maybe she’d go out and sit on the front porch in one of the rockers. Being here incognito meant she could do that kind of thing without attracting attention. She ought to take advantage of it.

Opening the door carefully so she wouldn’t wake Flynn by her exit, she stepped out on the porch. The weathered boards were a little scratchy on her bare feet, but no worse than sand and seashells. She loved going barefoot, always had. Summers as a kid she’d never worn shoes. She used to weep when school started each fall and she had to imprison her freedom-loving toes.

Shivering slightly in the chill of early morning, she took a deep breath, and the smell of fresh pine needles made her nose tingle with pleasure. Under that scent lay something more subtle, the musty aroma of all the dry needles carpeting the forest floor. That scent brought back a memory of last night’s episode with Flynn, and more than her nose started to tingle.

The birds she’d been hearing continued to warble as they hopped from branch to branch of the trees that nearly touched the sides of the cabin. If she lived here, she’d hang up a bird feeder so she could watch them more closely. But who was she kidding? She’d probably starve the little critters by leaving town and forgetting all about her bird feeder.

This cozy spot was giving her a false sense of living an ordinary life. She was miles away from an ordinary life. Even this weekend wasn’t turning out to be particularly ordinary, considering Bigfoot. She wondered if the footprint was still there or if Flynn had obliterated it when he’d dropped to the ground and pulled her down with him.

In daylight the idea of Bigfoot running around in the forest seemed ridiculous. And yet she’d heard the heavy footsteps and the howl. And she’d seen that oversize print.

Staring out at the place where the footprint had been, she groped behind her for the nearest rocker, sat down, and began to rock. A faint buzzing noise told her there were bees somewhere in the vicinity. A little trickle of uneasiness ran through her. She hadn’t thought about the possibility of bees when she’d decided to come up here.

Oh, well. Bees didn’t normally sting if you didn’t bother them. If she did get stung, though, she had no idea where the nearest emergency room might be…. Okay, then she just wouldn’t get stung. If she saw bees, she’d avoid them.

The rocker creaked a little bit and she smiled, thinking of what her friends would say if they could see her rocking away on a porch while wearing the equivalent of bag-lady clothes. Well, they wouldn’t see her this way, and her reputation as a cool chick would remain intact. This was peaceful, though. At least it had been before she’d heard the bees.

Maybe she should go in. No, damn it, she wasn’t going to run inside because she heard a couple of bees buzzing around. That was being paranoid. They really didn’t sting unless provoked or if they were stepped on, which she’d accidentally done that one time. Then there were killer bees, which was a whole other story. But surely she wouldn’t have that kind of bad luck.

A bee flew past and she flinched. Then she blew out a breath, impatient with herself. What a baby. The bee was probably on its way to suck nectar, or whatever it was bees did. She wasn’t entirely clear on the process, but she admired the results.