My Nerdy Valentine (Nerds, #7)(21)
Author: Vicki Lewis Thompson

"No way. The couch will work fine. We’re only talking about a few nights. I’ll head back to my apartment during lunch and pack a few things so I can go home with you tonight."

"Maybe we shouldn’t tell Gloria about this part."

"We don’t have to tell anyone about this part. Well, that’s not quite true. I should tell Justin."

"I would expect that. And I’ll need to tell Mavis and Chester."

He nodded. "Right. But don’t worry, Amanda. I won’t take advantage of the situation."

"I believe you." She thought he might have greater control over his emotions than she did. Maybe his dedication to the cause would inspire her to squelch her lusty urges.

"It’ll be fine. I’ll bet having me on the scene will discourage this guy really fast. He might give up before Valentine’s Day."

She hoped so. Will looked better and better with every passing moment, and she didn’t know how well she’d be able to resist the temptation of having him in residence. "Bring pajamas, okay?"

He looked startled. "Uh … okay."

"You don’t own any, do you?"

"I’ll get some on my way back from lunch."

She was glad she’d mentioned it. She couldn’t have a nak*d Will sleeping on her couch. A pajama-clad Will would be difficult enough to ignore. "Oh, and another thing. I don’t have much to eat in the house. If you’re used to breakfast, you’re out of luck."

"I usually grab an energy bar."

"I’m relieved to hear it. Some guys think the ability to fix breakfast is a gender-based skill."

"I won’t expect you to wait on me, Amanda."

"Well, I can brew coffee." Waiting on him didn’t sound like such a chore, the more she thought about it. "I’m pretty sure Mavis has instant pancake mix, and she’d loan me butter and syrup, if you’d like to have—"

"Not necessary." He stepped closer. "You don’t have to do anything to please me, or make me feel more at home. Just go about your regular routine, and I’ll fit myself into that."

There shouldn’t have been anything sexual about that statement. The fact that she took it that way didn’t bode well for this sleepover routine they were contemplating. What had she let herself in for?

"Look, I can see this plan makes you uneasy, but I promise to be as unobtrusive as possible. You’ll hardly know I’m there."

She didn’t believe that for a minute. But it would only be for a few days, as he’d said. The days weren’t the problem, though. The nights were her chief concern. She took a steadying breath. "Well, I’d better get back."

"So you’ll tell Gloria ASAP? I should start this hanging-around stuff soon, so anyone who knows you gets the idea."

"I’ll tell her."

Will smiled. "You look as if you’re going to the gallows. Hold on a sec." He walked over to his desk and consulted his day planner. "I have some free time. I’ll go with you. We’ll face her together."

"I’d appreciate that. I have my doubts that she’ll love this plan."

"Then we need to soften her up." Will picked up the Titillating Trivia book and flipped it open. "I’ll take this with me and let her know how much I like it."

"You can do that with a straight face?"

"Sure." He scanned a page. "Might as well have a few examples to trot out so she’ll know I at least glanced at it. Did you know that if you took the total number of condoms used in New York City in a month and laid them end to end, they’d reach to the moon and back?"

"Can’t say that I did. Would that be still in the package or unrolled?" Amanda swallowed a laugh. Will might actually like the book.

"Doesn’t say. I’ll bet unrolled." He flipped the page. "Here’s another interesting factoid. An independent study found that the average number of orgasms experienced in a week by the women living in one square block of Pittsburgh was two point four."

"That’s assuming everyone told the truth."

"Granted. But assuming they did, in a similar socioeconomic neighborhood in San Diego it was two point nine. I wonder why that is? Sunshine, maybe. Or salt air. The surf produces negative ions, which are mood elevators. That might account for the half percent difference."

"I wonder where they get the decimal points?"

"That happens all the time in statistics." He was already skimming another page in the book.

"But not in reality. You either have an orgasm or you don’t." And for her, it was mostly the second option. If they polled her square block, she’d really bring those numbers down.

"Mm." He gave no indication he’d actually registered her comment.

That was a good thing. She had no business discussing orgasms with him, now or in the future.

"Hey, did you know that pigs are extremely orgasmic? And their orgasms last for—"

"I hate to interrupt, but we really have to leave." All this talk of orgasms was not helping her eliminate thoughts of sex, specifically sex with Will. But now she knew why he was so outrageously good at trivia in the bar. No matter whether the subject was baseball or sex, he soaked up facts like a sponge.

"We can leave in a second." He kept reading. "Did you know there’s a native custom in the Brazilian rain forest where the women rub—"

"Unless you want me to go alone."

He glanced up. "Of course not." He closed the book. "Let’s go."

She eyed the cover. "You might want to stick that back in the box before you parade through the outer office."

"Good thought." He dropped the book neatly into the FedEx box. "Where did she find this thing, anyway?"

"She didn’t. I ordered it online."

His gaze was openly curious. "So you buy Gloria sex toys at the shop down the street and order up racy books online. That’s some job description you have."

"I may have to package my resume in a plain brown wrapper."

"Do you ever find yourself wanting to try out—" "No."

He nodded. "Right. You’re avoiding all that for the time being." "Yep."

"Consider the subject closed." "Good."

SIXTEEN

Will had no idea how he’d spend his nights in Amanda’s apartment and keep his hands to himself, especially considering the role he’d be playing during the day. When they were in public, touching her once in a while would help make the boyfriend ploy look real. Like now, as they walked down the hall together, he should be holding her hand.

At least that was how he perceived a committed relationship. He should probably find out her preferences. "Since we’re planning to advertise ourselves as a couple, how do you stand on the issue of public displays of affection?"

"That depends. The category stretches from fond looks to doing the wild thing on a park bench."

"I was thinking of a middle ground, like holding hands." "That’s fine, I guess."

"Then we might as well get started." He reached for her hand and laced his fingers through hers. "How’s that?" "That’ll work."

Her hand was soft, but her fingers felt strong and capable— capable of turning him on if she decided to adopt that native rubbing technique practiced by the women in the Brazilian rain forest. He was still thinking about that custom. They used an ointment made out of indigenous plants, but he hadn’t recognized the names.

Her hand became warmer the longer he held it. He could feel the heat traveling up his arm and moving through his body. Maybe she wouldn’t need any special ointment, after all. He couldn’t remember ever getting turned on simply by holding hands with a woman, but it was happening.

He needed to make conversation. "Going beyond hand-holding, how do you feel about a guy putting his arm around you in public?"

"I don’t have a problem with that."

"Kissing?"

She hesitated. "I don’t object on general principle, but in this case … maybe we’d better not risk it."

"You could have a point." Too much yearning was going on, and what might start out as a simple peck on the lips could turn French in no time.

Even the hand-holding had escalated without his realizing it. He caught himself stroking her wrist gently with his thumb. It was involuntary, as if contact with her skin threw him into automatic stroking mode. He stopped.

"This could get a little tricky," she said.

"We’ll handle it." He couldn’t let her back out of the deal, not with some sicko leaving eighties tunes on her answering machine. "We know the dangers, so we’re prepared to—"

Gloria walked out of her office, caught sight of them, and gasped. "What’s this’?"

They let go of each other like a couple of school kids caught making out beside the lockers. Will hated that knee-jerk reaction and wished they’d braved it through, but they hadn’t, and it couldn’t be helped.

"Hey, Gloria, I really appreciate the book." He held up the FedEx box.

"So I see." Fury glinted in her eyes. "You have the book in one hand and Amanda in the other. How cozy."

"We need to talk to you," Amanda said. "This isn’t what it looks like."

"No? Then what is it? Did the building suddenly adopt the buddy system so no one would get lost in the halls?"

"Let’s go back into your office," Will said. "We shouldn’t be discussing this out here. And we do have an explanation."

"I certainly hope so." Gloria tossed her hair over her shoulders. "Because what I just saw makes no sense whatsoever." She stalked back through the office door.

"As Amanda said, it’s not what it seems." William didn’t think he sounded very convincing, but he was counting on Gloria’s high opinion of her own desirability.

"Come on into my office and close the door," she said. "I prefer not to discuss personal matters in front of my clients, and my next appointment will be here in ten minutes. They had a sexual emergency, so I’m giving up my lunch hour to them."

Amanda went over to her desk. "Before we get started, I want to check this drawer." She opened it and lifted up her purse.

"Anything in there?" Will asked. She pulled out a red envelope.

"Damn!" He was beyond frustrated. "The guy was right here in the last half hour! We need a hidden camera or something."

Gloria looked bewildered. "Who was here? What’s going on?"

Amanda walked toward her and held out the envelope. "Someone’s been leaving valentines in my desk drawer."

"You’re kidding." Gloria took the envelope. "Why would someone do that?"

Will swallowed his indignation. Gloria didn’t mean to be insulting. She just didn’t understand subtle sexuality, and Amanda was all about that. "It seems that some guy has become obsessed with her," he said.

Gloria shook her head in disbelief. "There must be some mistake." She opened the envelope, pulled out the card, and read the front. " I take the position that you are the perfect valentine.’" Then she opened the card and her eyebrows rose. " You can take any position you want. Your Secret Valentine.’ "

After gazing at the card for several seconds, Gloria turned it so they could both see the inside.

It reminded Will of Gloria’s Joy of Sex illustrations. He glanced at Amanda. Her breathing was shallow and her face pale. He could imagine her thoughts as she looked at that damned card. How he’d love to have that creep in front of him right now.

He’d had only one fight in his life, when he was eleven and someone had started picking on a smaller kid. Despite that lack of experience, he was certain that given the chance, he would cheerfully knock this guy from here to next week.

Gloria looked at the card again. "Are you sure this wasn’t meant for me?"

"It has my name on the envelope," Amanda said.

Turning the envelope over, Gloria glanced at the writing on the front. "So it does. Amazing. I… wait a minute." She gave Will a sharp glance. "That fax. You signed it Your Secret Valentine. Are you somehow involved in this?"

"Not like you’re thinking," Will said. "Maybe we should go in your office, like you suggested. This is complicated."

"After you." Gloria gestured toward the open door and they all trooped in. "Don’t sit on the love seat," she said as she closed the door. "I haven’t wiped off the flavored oil yet." She picked up a chair that was lying on its side and placed it next to another one in front of her desk. "Here you go."

As Will sat down, he noticed that one of her framed pictures was hanging crooked, and magazines had been knocked off the coffee table.

Gloria followed the direction of his gaze. "Clients do get wild. I’m thinking of partitioning off an area and covering it floor to ceiling with padded vinyl. Then I’d throw in padded hassocks of various sizes, any sex toys they wanted, and let them go to it. Cleanup would be a cinch."

Will told himself not to think about that scenario. It would do him no good whatsoever to picture himself with Amanda in the equivalent of an adult playpen. Sex wasn’t an option with them, and the sooner he accepted that, the happier he’d be. Well, not happy, but stable. Resigned. Frustrated as hell.

Amanda sat in the chair next to him. He breathed in her scent, a gentle floral fragrance, and was immediately transported back to the moment when he’d kissed her. He couldn’t think about that, either. His best bet was concentrating on the violence he’d like to visit on the valentine guy.

Leaning forward, Amanda cleared her throat. "Here’s the situation." She quickly outlined what had happened, including the song someone had left on her answering machine at home. "At first I thought it was Will… uh, William, but I was wrong."

"Of course you were." Gloria glanced at Will. "You couldn’t possibly be interested in her." He lied. "Right."

"I’m distressed to know the fax wasn’t for me, however." Will shrugged. "You’re a client. Ethically, I can’t—" "Yes, yes. So you’ve said." Gloria adjusted the V of her sweater to show off a little more cl**vage. "I’m sure I can loosen up your morals eventually. But considering that you’re not interested in Amanda, what was with the hand-holding business?"