Nerd in Shining Armor (Nerds, #1)(21)
Author: Vicki Lewis Thompson

Matt smiled back, enjoying the cozy moment in which he and Annabelle silently shared the knowledge that Lincoln was trying his hardest not to be labeled a nerd who cared about grades. Funny how this little meal in the cabin of a rented boat felt more homey and comfortable than any Matt had shared in that big old house with Theresa. Twenty years ago he’d thought it was reasonable to want a nice wife, maybe a couple of kids, and a job he could enjoy.

The job had turned out okay, but Theresa hadn’t been a nice wife. Kids only would have mucked up the situation, so he was glad they hadn’t had them. But that meant he didn’t have a fourteen-year-old basketball player/poet around the house. Multicolored hair aside, Lincoln was the kind of boy any man would be proud to call his son. Matt was curious as to where the guy was who had that right.

Finally Matt had stuffed in as much as he could hold. Maybe the food comforted him, too. He wished he could figure out a way to comfort Annabelle short of holding her, which wouldn’t be happening.

He placed his napkin beside his plate. "That was delicious, Annabelle. Thank you."

She gave him a brief smile. "I’m glad it set well with you."

"It did. Great meal."

"Uh, Mom?" Lincoln eyed the food still on her plate. "Are you going to eat that, or what?"

"You probably should try," Matt said. He wanted to say something about keeping her strength up, but

that sounded too dire, so he didn’t.

Annabelle shoved her plate toward Lincoln. "You go ahead and have it."

"You’re sure? ‘Cause if you’re gonna eat it, then—"

"I’m not, so no sense in letting it go to waste." She gave the plate another little push in her son’s direction. "Go on. Otherwise I’ll scrape it in the garbage."

Full as he was, Matt would have finished her meal rather than see it go in the garbage. Once he was convinced she wouldn’t eat it, he was relieved when Lincoln pulled the plate in front of him and dug in.

Lincoln was chewing away, his mouth full, when he glanced up and apparently realized that both his mother and Matt were sitting there watching him eat. "Hey, like talk among yourselves, okay?" he said.

"Lincoln, don’t speak with your mouth full!" Annabelle recoiled in horror.

Lincoln swallowed loudly. "Somebody has to talk. You’re freaking me out, like watching me eat is the entertainment.” He glanced at his watch. "I know what! The TV works, right?"

"It should," Matt said.

"Then let’s watch the Cubs and the D’Backs. I almost forgot the game was on."

Matt stood. "I’ll see if we can bring it in." He flipped on the television mounted in a wall cabinet opposite the table. He even knew the right channel, because had the evening turned out differently, he would have watched the game himself. Considering he’d decided to take a break from Celeste, he couldn’t very well go to the bar tonight, so that had left cozying up to the TV.

"Oh, wow, a triple!" Lincoln said. "Gonzo is so totally awesome."

"He’s good." Matt watched Luis Gonzalez pull off his batting glove as he stood on third.

"Yeah. My friends are all Gonzo’s the bomb."

"I’ll start on the dishes." Annabelle slid from her seat and started collecting plates and silverware.

"No, you won’t." Matt turned away from the television and walked back to the table. "I’m not much of a cook, but I’m a damned good dishwasher."

She met his gaze. "It’ll give me something to do," she said quietly. "I’m not much of a baseball fan."

He understood her reasoning, but he didn’t like the idea of turning her into some kind of galley slave, while the two guys bonded over baseball. Too bad he couldn’t invite her for a little walk, but it was raining. Or was it? After crossing back to the television, he turned down the volume and listened. No rain.

Matt adjusted the volume again, then located the remote and handed it to Lincoln. "Tell you what. You keep tabs on the game, and your mother and I will take a walk on the dock. We won’t go far, so if you need anything, just come out and get us."

"Sure." Lincoln nodded, his attention focused on the screen. "Oh, geez. They stranded him."

Matt didn’t spare a glance at the TV. Instead he looked at Annabelle, who stood with the dishes still in her hands as she stared at him in obvious shock. "Wouldn’t you like a little fresh air?" He tried to make the suggestion sound casual, although he didn’t feel at all casual about it.

She hesitated, as if making a really tough decision. "I… I reckon I would," she said at last.

He could get used to that little hillbilly twang that crept into her voice now and then. "Gonna take the dishes with you?" he teased, to see if she’d lighten up any.

She looked down at the dishes as if she’d never seen plates and forks before. "Uh, no." She turned to set them on the kitchen counter, but not quickly enough to hide her blush.

That splash of color in her cheeks was the best thing Matt had seen all day. He’d actually succeeded in flirting. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d tried to flirt with a woman. By the time he and Theresa had split the sheets, they’d been years past the flirting stage. As for the episode last night with Celeste—she’d done all the flirting while he’d gone along for the ride. He also thought it would take quite a lot to make Celeste blush.

No matter how much an evening with a twenty-something woman had stroked his ego, he’d never felt completely comfortable with Celeste. Annabelle was his generation, his value system. She might be a tigress when it came to her kids, but she wasn’t bold with men. If anything, she seemed wary. He kind of liked that, because that probably meant she wasn’t any more sophisticated about the game than he was.

But he was way ahead of himself. She’d agreed to a walk along the dock, not a romantic rendezvous. Damned if he wasn’t looking forward to having a little time alone with her, though.

She rinsed her hands in the sink and dried them on a towel. Then she walked toward Matt, ducking when she came between Lincoln and his ball game. "You’re more than welcome to start on the dishes after you get finished eating," she told her son.

"Huh?" Lincoln glanced up, clueless. "Did you say something, Mom?"

"I… oh, never mind. I guess we can worry about it when we get back."

"Okay. Whatever." Lincoln turned back to the game. "You kids have fan."

Matt chuckled, but Annabelle stopped in her tracks and stared at Lincoln. "What?"

Lincoln looked at her with a sly grin. "I’ve been waiting at least a trillion years to say that. But you, like, never go out, so I’m all, When can I ever use that line? I figured this might be my big chance."

Annabelle seemed to be at a total loss for words, so Matt jumped into the breach. "Okay, we’ll take off now. And don’t try to sneak a beer while we’re gone. I counted the bottles."

Lincoln gaped at him. "We have beer on board?"

"No, but I’ve always wanted to say that, and I’ve never had a kid to say it to, so I guess we’re even, huh?"

Lincoln laughed, obviously pleased with the little interchange. "We’re so even, dude. Later."

"Later." Matt motioned for Annabelle to go ahead of him up the steps to the deck.

They didn’t speak until after he’d helped her climb from the stern to the dock, which was shiny with rain in the soft mercury lights lining the row of berths. The night was warm and moonless, and the only sounds came from the creak of boats whenever a swell rolled under the dock.

"You’re being mighty kind to my son." Annabelle lifted her gaze to his. "And I thank you for it. This is a sorry mess we’re in, but you being nice to Lincoln helps."

"He’s a good kid. I’ll admit when you insisted he had to come along I wasn’t looking forward to it, but I’m getting a kick out of him, multicolored hair, earring, and all." He gestured to their right. "Why don’t we walk down to the end of the dock and back? We’ll be able to see the boat the whole way."

"All right." Annabelle fell into step beside him, her arms crossed over her middle, as if feeling the need to protect herself.

He hoped she didn’t feel the need to protect herself from him. "Are you cold?" The line came right out of his college dating days, back when he’d looked for any excuse to put his arm around a girl. In the pale light, Annabelle looked like a college girl, and he wouldn’t mind having a reason to put his arm around her.

She glanced at him, a hint of a smile in her eyes. "I’m okay. Thanks."

He knew she’d recognized the line for what it was. "That meal was awesome." He hadn’t been able to

say that in college, where they’d all lived on fast food. "Thank you."

"It’s the least I can do. I, um, enjoyed watching you eat it."

Hey, that was progress. She’d acknowledged paying attention to him. "Did you notice the total rapture

on my face?"

This time a real smile appeared. "I did. You reminded me of Lincoln when he’s looking at Britney Spears on TV."

"I’d take that meal over Britney any day." I’d take you over Britney, too. But he didn’t think that was the thing to say. Not yet.

"Well, thank you. I miss cooking for a—" She caught herself and cleared her throat. "Another grown-up."

"I miss eating dinner with a beautiful woman." He looked over to see how she was taking that.

She was staring off across the water, like he’d gone too far and she was thinking how to change the subject. "You mentioned Lincoln’s hair a while back. You probably think I should have put my foot

down about that."

He didn’t want to push her, so he went along with the switch in topic. "I did think that at first. But he has such a good attitude compared to a lot of the kids I see that I’m revising that opinion. Maybe if you give kids a chance to rebel in the small ways, they won’t feel so determined to rebel in the big ones."

"That’s what I hope." She sighed. "But when you’re doing the raising by yourself, sometimes it’s hard to know what’s right."

"Then Lincoln’s father isn’t a part of his life?"

"No." She stopped walking and turned to him. "Listen, maybe we should get something straight."

"Uh, okay." The tone of her voice told him that the ground he’d gained earlier was slipping away. Her closed expression didn’t give him much hope, either.

"I think, with us sharing space like this, we need to talk plain to one another."

"I agree." If he were to talk plain to her right now, he’d say he wanted to kiss her and see if he could get past that barrier she’d thrown up. At least he couldn’t take her chilly

178 Vicki Lewis Thompson

behavior personally, now that Lincoln had announced she didn’t date. "You hate men?"

"I wish I did. But it turns out I love men."

That was nice to hear. "From a distance?"

Still she wouldn’t look at him. "Oh, no. I’ve enjoyed them up close, too. Genevieve and Lincoln are the evidence."

"I just meant—"

"You see, Genevieve’s daddy made me pretty promises and then left me pregnant. I did without men for a long time, but then Lincoln’s daddy showed up, and it was the same cock-a-doodle-doo, different rooster."

Matt couldn’t help smiling, but he quickly controlled himself. She was deadly serious about this, and she didn’t think anything was strange about the little expressions he found so endearing. Plus, the last thing he wanted to do was make her self-conscious about the way she talked. "Sorry to hear that," he said.

"Not as sorry as I was, believe me. After that man hightailed it out of the Hollow, I made a vow that I wouldn’t have sex again until after my childbearing years, and I’m not there yet."

Matt swallowed. Now that was a challenge any red-blooded man wouldn’t be able to leave alone. "Annabelle, do you have something against birth control?"

"Yes." She looked at him, finally, and her eyes held no sign of compromise. "It’s not guaranteed."

"Well, no, but the percentages are in your—"

"Then there’s that other problem."

"Other problem?" He couldn’t believe they were standing out here discussing sex. And even in the dim light he could tell that her cheeks were getting pink again.

She took a deep breath. "When a man strikes my fancy, I lose all common sense. If he wants to do it right now, I do it. I don’t think about babies and scraping for a living because my man ran out and left

me in the family way. It’s a failing, pure and simple. So it’s easier to do without."

Matt was getting extremely agitated. Okay, he was getting horny. "It shouldn’t be all up to you. It’s a guy’s responsibility, too." And last night he’d been unprepared. Celeste had taken care of the problem. He was still unprepared. So much for taking responsibility.

She held his gaze. "You see where counting on that has landed me."

"Annabelle, all men aren’t like the two you hooked up with. In fact, most men aren’t like that. They try not to get a woman pregnant, but if an accident happens, they do what’s right and help with the kid."

She regarded him silently, her set jaw indicating that she wasn’t buying a word of it.

"Let’s move the discussion to a personal level. I would take every precaution so that a woman wouldn’t get pregnant, and if she happened to, I would be there every step of the way, supporting her and the baby in any way I could." He would welcome the chance. Until spending time with Lincoln, he hadn’t realized how cheated he felt because he’d never had a kid.

Annabelle’s expression had no give to it. "That’s what they all say."

Chapter 13

Annabelle stood on the dock waiting for Mart’s comeback. Sure as shootdn’ he’d have one. They all did.

Anytime she ended up alone with a good-looking man, some version of this conversation took place. Once they realized she didn’t have a husband around, they usually wanted to get friendly. Then she’d tell them how the cow eats the cabbage, and they’d take that as a personal challenge to be the one to break down her defenses.