Nerd Gone Wild (Nerds, #3)(17)
Author: Vicki Lewis Thompson

“Yes, but we’re not going to. I mean, that would be like I was using you. I couldn’t do that.”

Oh, go ahead. “I guess not.” He gazed at her as the concept of her using him for sex settled into his brain and started fooling with his body parts, getting them even more excited.

She had scruples about using him, but what if he was willing to be used? She wasn’t talking about a relationship, the kind that would make him look like an opportunistic, gold-digging four-flusher of a cad. She was talking about straightforward sex, a healthy exchange of goodies between two consenting adults.

Having sex with Ally would have several advantages besides the obvious one that it was more exciting than skydiving. She wasn’t the sort of wild girl to have sex with more than one guy in a given period of time. So if Mitch was hav**g s*x with her, nobody else in Porcupine would get to.

In addition to that, hav**g s*x would mean they’d necessarily have to spend lots of time together. She’d have fewer opportunities to sneak out on him and get herself into trouble with wild animals or Kurt Jarrett. Mitch might not even need that bug under her bed.

He’d have to take it out of there if they actually had sex. She could get really ticked off if she ever found out he’d recorded whatever they did on that bed. However, he’d have more chances to drop the little transmitter into her backpack, which might prove very useful if she should happen to give him the slip.

“And I wouldn’t use you in that way, Mitchell, but let’s face it, you’re the kind of guy who might be able to handle such an arrangement.”

“Why’s that?” He had some ideas. For one thing, he’d know going in that he couldn’t expect more than this. False expectations were killers, but he wouldn’t have any. Still, he was curious as to why she thought he’d be perfect for uncommitted sex.

“It would work because you have such a methodical mind,” she said. “You could view sex as a practical application of resources, an activity to be enjoyed while you’re here and dropped when you leave.”

She was painting a picture that he didn’t quite agree with, but her image of him suited his purposes. She might say no now, but he didn’t want to screw up a future opportunity by telling her that he wasn’t quite that businesslike about sex.

“And there’s another point in its favor,” she said. “We’re in the middle of nowhere.”

“So it’s not like the servants will talk.”

“Nope, and we’d make Betsy really happy. But I still don’t think I should take advantage of you like that.”

“Wait a minute. Let’s suppose you change your mind and decide to take advantage of me, after all. You wouldn’t tell Betsy about it, would you?”

She smiled. “You’ve heard the acoustics at the Loose Moose. It would be impossible to keep it a secret.”

“Um…” As much as he would love to have sex with Ally, the prospect of an audience listening from the first floor didn’t appeal to him at all.

“Then again, maybe you don’t make any noise.” She looked him up and down. “I suppose that’s possible, knowing you. But it’s not only the moans and groans that would give us away. There’s the rocking back and forth part. My bed squeaks.”

“I know.” Then he hurried to cover up his flub. “I mean, it squeaked when we sat on it eating sandwiches. A mattress on top of squeaky springs.” When she nodded in agreement, he relaxed. But then, she’d never suspect him of installing listening devices under her bed.

“Well, it doesn’t matter whether the beds squeak or not, because my conscience wouldn’t let me use you for my own selfish purposes.”

Letting her use him for her own selfish purposes was the best idea he’d heard in years. “You know what, Ally? I think maybe you should—” He stopped talking when he heard footsteps crunching in the snow.

“Is somebody down there?” called a deep male voice.

Because Mitch knew that the voice didn’t belong to either Clyde or Rudy, and because Betsy had alerted them that Dave might be shoveling nearby, Mitch was sure it had to be the wondrous manly chain-saw sculptor. How lovely. Caught looking stupid by Dave, who managed to stay in touch with his softer side while still hanging on to his rugged, studly side. Mitch figured he’d hate the guy on sight.

“We fell through!” Ally called out. “And we lost our shovels in the process!”

“Blabbermouth,” Mitch muttered. He would rather carve out an exit with his bare hands than have Dave the Magnificent know they were semi-stack down here.

“I saw the shovels.” From the flutter in his voice, the guy obviously was right on the verge of laughing. “I’m Dave, by the way, from over at the Top Hat.”

“Thought so.” Mitch ground a little bit of enamel off his back molars. “Just toss me a shovel,” he said. “I’ll dig us out.” But the sound of a shovel blade biting into the snow told him there was no saving this situation. Dave was going to play hero.

That was confirmed with another cheery message. “Sit and relax. I’ll have you out in no time.”

That’s good, because Ally and I were discussing whether or not we should have sex. Put that in your pipe and smoke it. How Mitch longed to set Dave straight. But if Ally was unwilling to use Mitch for selfish purposes, she wouldn’t use Dave, either. If anybody was going to be used, Mitch intended for it to be him.

And he’d be damned if he’d sit there and let Dave dig them out all by his lonesome. “I’ll dig from this side,” he said. Then he got to his hands and knees and started scooping snow out of the way.

* * *

Ally thought it was cute the way Mitchell got all grumpy and competitive after Dave showed up. His Dudley Do-Right chin with the adorable cleft got all rigid and his mouth settled into a straight line. Digging away like that, he looked like a dog trying to bury a bone.

She’d be happy to help him, but there wasn’t enough room, and besides, she thought he was being silly. Dave would make much faster progress with a shovel, and Mitchell was wearing himself out for nothing.

She understood how a guy like Mitchell would be threatened by a guy like Dave. Mitchell might be a terrific kisser, and Ally wasn’t kidding about wanting to go to bed with him. There was amazing chemistry between them. Too bad she didn’t believe in using someone for her own gratification.

And that’s what it would have to be, because Mitchell was not a guy she’d ever get serious about. He was one-dimensional. He seemed to have no outside interests whatsoever. Work, work, work—specifically his job tending Grammy’s estate—was his life.

“Betsy’s going to wonder where in the world we’ve been,” she said. “And why the front door’s still blocked. She was eager to go shopping.”

“At least she has Clyde to amuse her. And she doesn’t need to go shopping in order to have tons of fun with Clyde.”

Ally laughed. “Right.”

“That reminds me.” Mitchell kept digging, building a little ramp as he went. “About that item she planned to pick up, I—”

“You mean eggs?” She couldn’t resist. She knew he didn’t mean eggs.

“No, the other thing.” He scooped snow in a steady rhythm.

She remembered his finger tapping ever so subtly on the table when they’d been watching Clyde’s tap-dancing routine. Thinking about Mitchell’s sense of rhythm got her hot and bothered again.

She wondered if he’d turn out to be as talented as she thought he might be. She didn’t care if he moaned and groaned or not. She just wanted him to pay attention. From all that she knew of him, he seemed to be the kind of guy who would pay very close attention. He was into detail, after all. But she wasn’t going to find out.

“So what about this other thing?” she asked.

“If you should change your mind, I wouldn’t use Betsy’s supply. I’d buy my own.”

“Oh. Okay.” She liked that kind of assertiveness. “But you don’t need to bother. I won’t change my mind.”

“Just letting you know, in case you do. Maybe I should pick some up, anyway. To have on hand.”

“Trust me, I respect you too much.” Warm squiggles of desire shot through her system. It would be fun to test the sexual skills of Mitchell J. Carruthers, Jr. “I don’t suppose you’ll be telling Betsy that you’re buying your own.”

“No, I won’t be telling Betsy. I’m just telling you. In case you change your mind.”

“Okay, but it’s a waste of money.” She pictured him going to the store and picking out the item in question. “And you do realize this is a small town.”

“I’m sure even small towns keep a supply in stock. Especially this small town, which seems to be focused on the subject.”

“That wasn’t why I mentioned it. I—” But she didn’t get to explain that buying condoms at Porcupine’s general store might be similar to putting up a billboard announcing “Mitchell J. Carruthers, Jr., the new guy in town, is hoping to get lucky.”

She couldn’t finish the sentence because Dave suddenly appeared, and Mitchell had to leap backward to keep from scraping his knuckles on the blade of Dave’s shovel.

“And there you have it!” Dave smiled, flashing what looked like a perfect thirty-two, polished within an inch of their lives. “You can climb right out of there. The rest of the alleyway is safe. I tested it, poked a few holes in the crust with a section of rebar. You’re good to go.”

Dave’s smile was dazzling, no doubt about it. Ally imagined little points of light sparkling from those very white teeth. Or maybe the teeth seemed whiter set against his neatly trimmed black beard and mustache. His eyes were such a startling shade of blue that she wondered if he wore tinted contacts.

He might, judging from the perfection of his beard. He’d thrown back the hood of his parka, as if disdaining the need for warmth, but it might have been to show off the luxurious hair he’d pulled back in a ponytail. Dave obviously took pains with his look.

To Mitchell’s credit, he got to his feet and stuck out his hand. “Thanks, Dave. Appreciate it. I’m Mitchell Carruthers, by the way, and this is Ally Jarrett.”

Ally stood, too, impressed with Mitchell’s manners. But of course he would have good manners. Grammy wouldn’t have hired a person lacking in manners.

“Glad to meet both of you.” Dave stepped down into the hole and shook Mitchell’s hand, but he made it quick. He took a lot more time shaking Ally’s hand. “I heard about Betsy’s new guests. So, Ally, I understand you’re up here to take wildlife photos?”

“That’s right.”

“I don’t know much about photography, but I’m a great guide. I know this area like the back of my hand, and I’m available during the day.”

“Thanks for the offer.” If Uncle Kurt didn’t get here soon, she might need to take Dave up on it. She didn’t want to waste time waiting for Ernie to sober up and start plowing.

“Anytime,” Dave said. “And I’m not a photographer, but I have a fair eye for what would make a good shot. I don’t know if Betsy mentioned that I do some sculpture.” He said it with exactly the right touch of modesty.

“Betsy mentioned that. Chain-saw sculpture.” Ally thought about the advance billing that Betsy had given Dave, and so far she could see why he’d make some women sigh with longing. Strangely enough, he had zero effect on her.

There was something a little too calculated in the way Dave came across, as if he’d put together a package designed to impress. She wondered if his chain-saw art was any good, or if it was part of his image.

“What kind of market is there for that type of sculpture?” Mitchell asked.

Dave shrugged. “I don’t really worry about that. If someone likes what I do and wants to pay me for it, that’s fine. If not, it doesn’t matter. Doing art gives me pleasure. I don’t feel the need to sell it.”

Ally wondered if she’d been hanging around Mitchell for too long. An hour ago she’d argued this very point with him. She believed what she’d said, that artists should be free to create for their own pleasure. But with Dave, she sensed an agenda. She’d bet that chain-saw sculpture wasn’t his creative outlet so much as his claim to being different and slightly superior.

“Well, thanks again for getting us out of here,” Mitchell said. “We’d better head around to the front of the Loose Moose and get that door freed up.”

“It’s done.”

“Done?” Ally stared at him.

“Yeah, no big deal. I finished at the Top Hat, and noticed the Loose Moose was still socked in, so I got Betsy all squared away. Then I rang the doorbell, to let her know, and she said you two might be stuck somewhere, so I came looking for you.”

“Uh, then I guess we owe you a drink,” Mitchell said, “Thanks for taking care of all that.”

“Not a problem. If you stick around a while, you’ll get the hang of things before you know it.”

Ally glanced at Mitchell and noticed a muscle twitching in his jaw. If this were a cartoon instead of real life, steam would be coming out of his ears, too. He obviously didn’t appreciate being patronized by the resident chain-saw sculptor.

She turned back to Dave, determined to be polite, even though she’d been looking forward to tunneling into the Loose Moose’s front door with Mitchell. It would have been fun. “Yes, thank you very much, Dave. The drinks are definitely on us.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t drink.”

“Oh.”

“But maybe you’ll give me a photography lesson sometime, Ally. I’m always up for learning new things.” He winked at her.