Gone With the Nerd (Nerds, #4)(24)
Author: Vicki Lewis Thompson

Frug-a-dug! No explosion! And here they are, Tweedledee and Tweedledum, untouched. But they sure are touching each other, dammit. They ‘re shameless, like dogs in heat. Flynn has the self-control of a rabbit—can’t keep his hands to himself for five minutes.

You can bet his tongue is massaging her tonsils like crazy. He wants to run that tongue all over the rest of her, too. You can take that to the bank. He’s dreaming of giving Zoe Tarleton some massage therapy where it counts. She wants some of that stuff, too. Look at how she moves her hips! Hussy.

They wouldn’t chance it out in the open in the middle of the day, would they? Sure looks like that’s what he has in mind, though. And she’s stuck to him like a magnet to a refrigerator door. They’re plastered together so tight I can’t tell if his salami is ready for the oven, but I’ll assume it is, from the heavy breathing going on. Now he’s got both hands on her butt. What cojones, doing that where anybody can see.

I can’t believe they’re out here sucking face and rubbing bodies like nothing happened. It wasn’t supposed to turn out that way. Where was the damned explosion?

* * *

Winding both arms around Flynn’s neck, Zoe moved in closer so she could feel that big old flashlight of his. She knew exactly where she wanted to hide it, too. Judging from the restless motion of his hips, he had similar ideas.

He lifted his mouth from hers. "I want you." He was panting. "I want you every which way there is to want a woman."

"Same here. Switching genders." She went back to the glorious business of kissing him.

He pulled away again, his breath hot against her face. "But we’re in the middle of the forest. And the house is full of gas."

"There’s a backseat nearby."

"And the sleeping bag …" He kissed her throat and nipped at her earlobe.

"Yes, the soft… furry … sleeping bag."

"I want you nak*d on that fur. I want to—damn it."

"Damn what?"

"No condoms."

She knew he could go get them, even with the gas in the house, but once he left, her conscience would spring to life faster than Flynn’s erection. Doggone it.

She couldn’t leave him in this condition a second time, though. That was criminal. "Let’s improvise," she said. "Last night’s offer is still open. I’ll be glad to—" She stopped when she realized he was no longer gazing into her eyes in eager anticipation. Instead he was staring at a point beyond her left shoulder.

She tensed as all the possibilities ran through her mind—bees, Bigfoot, Kristen with a butcher knife. "What… what is it?"

"A living, breathing chastity belt."

Zoe turned to find Luanne leaning against the rental car’s fender, her arms crossed and a huge grin on her face. She pushed away from the car and flipped her braid over her shoulder. "It’s taken me a while, Vera, but I’ve finally figured out who you are."

Chapter Seventeen

As Flynn studied precocious, pata-ta-the-butt Luanne, he wondered how much money it would take to bribe an eleven-year-old to keep her mouth shut for twenty-four hours. Maybe Zoe could promise to get her an audition or offer a trip to Hollywood for a makeover or a VIP pass to the Golden Globes or dinner with Justin Timberlake. Whatever it took.

Zoe untangled herself from Flynn and turned in place, shielding him with her body. Man, did he appreciate that. The woman had class, not to mention the hottest mouth he’d ever had the privilege to stick his tongue into. Ergo, he had a little problem that he didn’t want Luanne to notice.

"Who do you think I am?" Zoe asked, cool as could be.

And that, Flynn concluded, was why Zoe Tarleton was on top. She had poise and presence. And speaking of Zoe on top, he wouldn’t mind seeing how that worked out, horizontally speaking. He knew it would only be a fling. As of now he was okay with that.

But he and Zoe needed to have a heart-to-heart about their significant others. Kristen was fading fast in his mind, but he didn’t know how Zoe viewed Trace at this moment. Taking her recent reaction into consideration, she might be ready to forget about Trace.

Earlier in the weekend, Flynn had been concerned about poaching on Trace’s territory. He was no longer quite so concerned. A couple of kisses from Zoe could alter a person’s viewpoint. Also his physical reactions. Fortunately, Flynn’s most obvious physical reaction had begun to subside.

"I’ve thought and thought about it," Luanne said. "Your hair is exactly like Zoe Tarleton’s hair, and your body looks like her body, too, except it’s hard to tell for sure with the clothes you wear."

"But you do realize I’m not Zoe, right?"

Flynn thought Zoe was whistling in the wind. She’d been made, and that was that. Time to see what kind of price Luanne put on that info.

Luanne seemed to be enjoying the drama of the moment. She gave every indication of drawing it out as long as possible. "Well, as I walked back from town I was convinced you were her. Every once in a while I’d stop and look at the picture in People." She gestured toward the hood of the car, where the magazine lay, its pages flipping in the breeze.

"You can’t go by that picture," Flynn said. "It was what, two inches square?"

"I went home and got a magnifying glass. And you—" She pointed a finger at Zoe. "Look exactly like the person in that picture. Don’t deny it."

"I never did deny it," Zoe said.

"So you could be her, except then I get here and see you two playing tonsil hockey. And I say to myself, ‘Why would any woman in her right mind dump Trace Edwards for Bill Gates?’"

Flynn happened to think he was better looking than Bill Gates, though admittedly not as rich. In any case, he got the point. Trace Edwards was a catch and a half. He was maybe half a catch, on a good day.

"But Trace isn’t my boyfriend," Zoe said.

How Flynn wished that were true.

"I can see that." Luanne waggled her eyebrows. "I can so see that. And here’s my conclusion." She paused, keen anticipation shining in her eyes. "You’re Zoe Tarleton’s double!"

Flynn gulped. They might be able to work with that. Zoe didn’t have a double, but so what? Vera Parsons could be her double for the weekend. He hoped Zoe agreed with him and went along with Luanne on this.

"You’re very smart," Zoe said.

The tension seeped out of Flynn’s shoulders. It would be okay.

"Did I guess it?" Luanne quivered with eagerness. "Are you really?"

"I do camera work for her."

"Yes, and she’s good at it, too," Flynn said. He followed Zoe’s lead of telling the truth without giving anything away.

"I get it, I get it! And you’re between pictures, so you’re taking a vacation with your boyfriend Tony!" Luanne gave a little hop of joy. "Omigod. You have to tell me all about Zoe. What’s her favorite food? What’s her favorite color? I’ll bet it’s red, ’cause she wears a lot of red. Does she have any pets? Who’s her favorite singer? Or maybe she likes a group better. What’s—"

"Actually, this is a working vacation," Flynn said.

"Vera’s studying a new script, and we should be getting back to it, right, Vera?"

"Yes, we should."

"That’s okay!" Luanne’s enthusiasm remained at full power. "Tell me when you’ll be taking a break, and I can come back then!"

"Well, we have quite a bit to accomplish," Flynn said. "I’m not sure when we might have time for a break."

"In two hours," Zoe said. "Come back in two hours and I’ll give you all kinds of juicy information about Zoe Tarleton. But only on one condition."

"Anything. I’ll do anything."

"You can’t say a single word to anyone about this. Nobody’s guessed it except you."

"I won’t say anything. I promise!" Luanne danced a little jig in the pine needles. ‘This is so cool. So totally cool."

"I mean it, Luanne. I can’t have the whole town bugging me for details about Zoe."

"I know." Luanne’s eyes shone. "Two hours. I’ll be back in two hours." Then she raced away through the woods, her braid flying out behind her.

"Why did you tell her to come back in two hours?" Flynn realized he was whining, but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t know what was ahead for him and Zoe, but Luanne certainly didn’t figure into any of his potential plans.

Zoe turned to him. "First of all, because I feel sorry for her. I used to be that age and starstruck. And second of all, because we need to buy her silence. I thought if we offered her something, she’d promise to be quiet."

"And do you think she’ll keep that promise?"

"Oh yeah." Zoe smiled. "At least for now. She wants Zoe Tarleton’s double all to herself."

Flynn sighed. So did he.

* * *

Zoe didn’t tell Flynn the third reason she’d told Luanne to come back in two hours. Luanne’s impending arrival would keep them from getting completely carried away. From her reaction to him so far, Zoe worried that Flynn had the power to release every last one of her inhibitions.

While that sounded exciting, it wouldn’t allow her to think, and she needed to think… a lot. Given uninterrupted time alone with Flynn, she might forget everything—Kristen, Trace, the script. That wouldn’t be doing her or Flynn any favors. Except the obvious.

"Let’s go find out if the gas is gone." She started toward the cabin.

"Then what?"

She knew what he was asking. He wanted to know if they’d pick up where they left off, only in the vicinity of condoms. "We need to make some kind of lunch," she said.

"Cheese and crackers. Oh, and I bought some lemonade."

"I can live with that. We could work on the script while we’re eating."

"All right. Sounds good."

As they climbed the steps together, she glanced at him with suspicion. He’d agreed to the script reading much too easily. Something was going on in that supersized brain. "You’re fine with reading the script?"

"Sure. Let’s do it."

"Okay. And Flynn, about what happened out there in the woods …"

"I know. You invited Luanne to come back to put the brakes on what’s going on between us."

She should have known he’d be two steps ahead of her.

"Yes, I did, because we… we seem to lose all perspective."

"You’re right about that." Inside the living room, he caught her arm, but once he had her attention, he released her. "Zoe, if you want to keep the lid on, you have to stop offering to give me a bl*w j*b."

Instantly that was what she wanted to do. Now.

He held her gaze. "So, are we agreed on that?"

She fought to remember her earlier plan to concentrate on the work she’d come up here to do. "Um, yes. Agreed. No more offers of a bl*w j*b."

"Because I have to tell you, that weighs on a guy’s mind. I’m trying like hell not to poach on Trace’s territory, but—"

"Trace is nothing to me." Whoops. That had sort of slipped out unannounced.

His eyebrows lifted. "Nothing to you? What do you mean?"

"He’s not actually my boyfriend."

"I don’t get it. According to everything I read, you two are—"

"That’s the whole idea. He’s my boyfriend so far as the media is concerned, because it’s good publicity. He’s big box office; I’m big box office. The fans would love to think we’re together." She paused. "And to be totally honest, I think Trace is getting into it."

"But you’re not."

"No. We have nothing in common except the business."

Flynn looked at her with those warm gray eyes. "I wish you hadn’t told me that."

"I wish I hadn’t, either. Because now I’m the bad guy here, because I’ve been poaching on Kristen’s territory."

"It’s not like I’ve put up a whole lot of resistance."

"Of course not!" She spread her arms wide. "I’m Zoe Tarleton, sex goddess! It’s not a fair fight, not when we’re secluded in this tiny cabin."

He shook his head. "You’re not giving me a whole lot of credit. I like to think I have the power to say no, even to Zoe Tarleton."

"Then why haven’t you?"

"I did, last night, when I desperately wanted to walk down the hall and climb into your bed. You notice I didn’t." "Believe me, I noticed."

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. Then he glanced at her with a lazy smile that made him look way too hot. "But I have to say, when you made a second offer today…"

"Okay! I won’t say that ever again. The bl*w j*b offers have all expired, effective this minute."

"You need to know I’m rethinking my commitment to Kristen."

She flashed back to high school and how her presence had gone a long way to crush Margo’s dreams. "Don’t rethink it. She’s not here to defend herself. Once you’re together again, you’ll wonder why you ever doubted that commitment."

He gazed at her. "Let’s get something to eat. I think the gas is gone."

She recognized that the discussion was over for the time being. "I think so, too, but I’m not eager to test it with the butane torch."

"Me, either. Let’s stick with cheese and crackers and lemonade." He walked to the door of the kitchen, where the microwave dinner lay squashed in the middle of the floor, its veggies radiating out in a sunburst pattern. "I’ll get the broom."

"And I’ll slice some cheese." They’d reached detente.

* * *

At Flynn’s suggestion they took their crackers, cheese, and lemonade out to the porch. He thought that might be a wiser venue than the sofa in the living room, now that he knew Trace wasn’t part of the equation. That left him to make the decision about what would or wouldn’t happen between them.

That was a lot of responsibility. When he’d imagined they were both being equally bad, that was one thing. But Zoe wasn’t being bad at all. She was free to do anything she wanted this weekend.

He wasn’t, unless he wanted to call Kristen and break up with her over the phone. Talk about insensitive. She believed they were moving toward marriage. He’d believed it, too, until last night.