Nerd in Shining Armor (Nerds, #1)(3)
Author: Vicki Lewis Thompson

When Matt had proposed the trip and explained about Brogan taking Genevieve along, Jackson had nearly begged off. He’d almost been sick to his stomach in the middle of Matt’s office, to be honest.

But then he’d had a weird thought—that if he went along, maybe he could be of some help to Genevieve if things went sour between her and Brogan. Okay, so he prayed they would go sour and he’d be around to pick up the pieces. Nobody could blame a guy for wanting to be a hero in the eyes of a woman like Genevieve.

Chapter 2

That night Genevieve used every go-to-sleep trick she knew. She sprinkled oil of lavender on the pillow and took deep breaths until she hyperventilated. Then she lay with her eyes closed and counted jugs of moonshine sitting in a row on her aunt Maizie’s back porch in the Hollow.

She imagined the whole scene, with crickets chirping, mosquitoes whining, rockers squeaking, cigarette smoke catching the breeze, and the splat of chewing tobacco in the dirt. She pictured herself sitting on the swaybacked steps with a wedge of watermelon and having a seed-spitting contest with her cousins.

Instead of drifting off to sleep, she worked up a little case of homesickness, though she certainly never wanted to live in the Hollow again. But some things about it were nice for a kid, like almost never wearing shoes and fishing in the crick and catching lightning bugs in a jar. Hawaii had no lightning bugs.

And the birds were all different here, too. Back home she’d been able to name most every bird around. When she’d arrived in Hawaii she’d had to start all over, pretty much. A couple she’d recognized, like the cardinal and the mockingbird, had been brought over from the mainland, according to a book she’d found. But no one had brought over a whippoorwill, and she missed that song.

She didn’t miss Clyde Loudermilk, though. That boy had promised her that if she let him do it he’d treat her to the movies every Saturday for a year. She’d given away her virginity for an empty promise, it turned out. Clyde hadn’t had the money for a box of popcorn, let alone a whole movie, not even a matinee.

Plus he hadn’t understood the first thing about pleasing a woman and he hadn’t worried about getting her pregnant, either. At the time she’d been willing to take a chance, on account of the movies, but now she shuddered to think that she could be raising Clyde Loudermilk’s kid right now because she’d lusted for a glimpse of Mel Gibson, Tom Cruise, and Harrison Ford. She was no different from her mother— she’d just taken up with a different set of movie stars.

Nick had that star quality, too. But thinking about Nick wasn’t going to help her sleep. Thinking about Nick would make her wonder if she’d remembered everything she wanted to take to Maui.

Snapping on her bedside lamp, she sat up and reached for her glasses on the nightstand. During the day she wore contacts, but she kept a pair of glasses beside her bed for when she first got up in the morning. She threw back the sheet and climbed out of bed.

Her suitcase sat on the floor beside her dressing table. She would have loved to take a different suitcase, but she hadn’t had time to buy one. She’d known all along she might run into this very problem, but she’d been afraid buying a new suitcase before she’d been asked to go on the trip would jinx her chances for sure.

So she was stuck with the one she’d picked out eleven years ago when her mother had announced they were flying to Hawaii. She’d found it in the Goodwill Store, and it had been cheap, too. Now she understood why. Nobody carried hard-sided, round pink suitcases these days.

Her mother had offered hers, but it wasn’t any better. It was also hard-sided, scuffed up, and an ugly shade of tan. Genevieve had decided hers was in better shape, even if it was hopelessly out of style.

She crouched down and lifted the lid to peer at her clothing choices. On top was the outfit she’d wear on the flight back, simple, tailored, and a flattering shade of green. Below that was her best bathing suit, just in case Nick suggested a swim. The next layer included the sexiest underwear she owned, which was blue, not black, unfortunately. And she had no seductive nightgown. Instead of taking a flowered cotton one that made her look like a sweet little virgin, she’d go with the blue bra and panties in bed.

Beneath her underwear she’d packed her flip-flops and six condoms. After her experience with Clyde back in the Hollow, she wasn’t taking any chances with anybody. She expected Nick to bring his own,

but in case he forgot, she would be prepared. Six was probably expecting too much of Nick, but she had no idea what sort of stamina he had.

She couldn’t think of anything else to pack besides her makeup and her curling iron, which would go in last. Her stuff wouldn’t take up all the room in the suitcase, which meant it would rattle around in there and wrinkle her green outfit. Then she had an inspiration and went into the hall closet to get her South Park beach towel. Lincoln had given it to her for Christmas a couple of years ago. Maybe the towel would make Nick laugh.

After tucking the towel in and closing the lid, she walked over to the windowsill and picked up her latest whittling project, an I’iwi bird. Maybe whittling would relax her.

"I haven’t seen you this excited since the night before we left for Honolulu," Annabelle said from the doorway.

Genevieve glanced up and instantly felt guilty for rummaging in the hall closet for her beach towel. She knew full well that her mama heard every little noise that went on in this house. "I’m sorry for waking

you up," she said. "I’ll turn out the light and be quiet."

"It wasn’t your fault. I couldn’t sleep, either." Annabelle came over and sat on the bed.

Genevieve looked at her mother, her cheeks rubbed pink from scooching down into the pillow the way she always did when she tried to sleep and couldn’t. How young she looked in this light. And after all,

she was young, only forty-one.

"I hate that you’re so worried about this trip, Mama," she said. She put her half-finished whittling project back on the windowsill.

"I probably shouldn’t be, but I can’t seem to get it out of my mind that something important’s going to change."

"That’s because it will, and for the better. This is the man for me." She sat on the bed beside her mother. "But I hope you’re not scared that I’ll run off and get married and leave you to fend for yourself with Lincoln. I would never do that."

"I know, honey." Annabelle reached over and squeezed Genevieve’s hand. "You shouldn’t have to be thinking that way in the first place, but we’ve almost got Lincoln raised. Another couple of years and he can get a job to help out."

Genevieve laughed. "Do you think by then he’ll have normal hair? I don’t think McDonald’s will take him looking like Uncle Sam’s goofy nephew."

"Oh, that hair is just a passing phase. At least he didn’t want to pierce his tongue like Chad did."

"You’re right. A stud in his tongue would really creep me out."

"Me, too," her mother said. "I think Lincoln’s doing okay, considering."

"Considering nothing, Mama! You’ve done a super job. We don’t need a man around to raise Lincoln."

"Well, that’s good, since we don’t have one."

But they might soon, Genevieve thought, if matters progressed with Nick. She wondered how Nick

would react to Lincoln’s patriotic hair when the two got to know each other. Having a guy around would be a real change for Lincoln, for sure. None of Genevieve’s boyfriends had paid much attention to him, and Annabelle hadn’t dated a man since Lincoln’s daddy took off. Genevieve had tried to talk her into dating, but Mama wouldn’t hear of it.

"The main thing is, Lincoln’s not walking around with a plug of tobacco tucked under his lip," Annabelle said. "If we’d stayed in the Hollow, he’d have his chaw going by now and be measuring how far he could spit. I’m so thankful for the King’s undies coming to us. I hate that Granny Neville died, but I’m sure glad I got those Jockeys."

Genevieve glanced at her. "You know, there’s something I’ve always wondered. How would anyone know for sure they belonged to Elvis? Why couldn’t a person have written his name on the label for a joke?"

"Because of the little notches."

"Notches?"

Annabelle nodded. "When he was a teenager, instead of a notch in his belt, which his mama would have noticed, he’d cut a little notch out of his underwear label each time he got lucky. The fellow I sold those Jockeys to had a contact from Elvis’s early years who said it was true, and the writing matched a sample of his mama’s printing." She snuck a peek at Genevieve. "All this time you never asked how Granny Neville happened to have them."

"I always thought she’d found them at the Goodwill Store. You can find some amazing things in that store."

"Well, she didn’t find them at the Goodwill."

Genevievc stared at her mother, who had a definite twinkle in her eye. "You’re not telling me she was a notch?"

"She would have been, except they heard her daddy coming down the hall, so Elvis grabbed up his pants, shirt, and shoes and dove right out the window. He left his underwear behind."

Genevieve flopped back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. "Granny Neville almost made it with Elvis Presley?"

"He wasn’t famous then, so I’m not sure it counts."

"You haven’t told Lincoln this, have you?"

"Now, what do you think?"

Genevieve propped herself on her elbows, resettled her glasses on her nose and looked at her mother. "No, I guess you wouldn’t. He’d spread it all over. But he knows about the underwear, and sooner or later he’ll start asking questions."

"If I think he’s ready to hear it and won’t go embarrassing us with the information, then I’ll tell him. If he isn’t, then I won’t."

"It’s kind of weird to think of somebody related to us being in bed with the King." Genevieve’s curiosity was killing her. "Did she say anything about. .. about what it was like or anything?"

"Only that he was the prettiest boy she’d ever seen and she never forgave her daddy for coming home so unexpected. The women in our family have a weakness for good-looking men." She paused. "Good-looking men who love you and leave you to cry."

Genevieve knew exactly what her mama was getting at. "Nick’s different. You’ll see."

"I hope you’re right. Honey, I hate to ask you this," her mama said, "but will you call me when you get safely to Maui?"

"Sure." Genevieve sat up and gave her a hug. "Sure, I’ll call. Now go on back to bed, and I’ll go back to bed, too, I promise."

Annabelle stood and walked to the door. "I’d also like to meet him when he comes to fetch you."

Genevieve hesitated, not wanting to complicate things at this tender stage of the relationship. "I’m not

sure we’ll have time. He didn’t say anything about coming in, and I wouldn’t want to make him late for

his meeting."

"Okay, then I’ll walk you to his car and say a quick hello."

"Well, I’m not sure . . ." Genevieve thought it would be sort of embarrassing to have her mother walk her out, considering the nature of this trip with Nick. Then she saw the concern on her mother’s face, and she decided being embarrassed wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Leaving her mother to fret because she’d hadn’t laid eyes on her daughter’s lover would be a lot worse.

"Okay," she said. "Then you’ll be able to see that he looks exactly like Cary Grant, just like I was telling you."

* * *

Matt Murphy sat at his favorite open-air bar and nursed a gin and tonic while he watched the waves roll

in on Waikiki Beach. With the moon shining on the water and a couple of sailboats rocking at anchor, it was a postcard view, and he was tired of having nobody to share it with.

"Last call, Mr. Murphy," said the cocktail waitress, a pretty redhead who was too young for him.

"Then hit me again. I feel sobriety creeping up on me." One advantage of giving Theresa the big house

on the hill as part of the divorce decree was that his new apartment was within walking distance of this bar, so he could come down here every night, drink himself silly, and not worry about getting a DUI

while he made his way home.

It wasn’t a particularly good habit to get into and he knew it. Yet he hadn’t come up with any healthier ways to spend his evenings, so this filled the gap for the time being.

Tonight he was feeling particularly gloomy. He’d never liked the way Nick ran through the company secretaries, and he’d had several arguments with his partner about it. But Nick had rightly pointed out

that he hadn’t twisted anybody’s arm. A woman was free to turn him down with no fear of reprisal.

True as that was, Matt still didn’t like Nick’s behavior. A few years ago his partner’s love life had amused him, but the joke had worn thin. Nick had worn thin, unfortunately. When they’d met in an economics class at Hawaii Pacific, Matt had really liked the guy. But during that period, Mart’s judgment of people had been suspect. Witness his marriage to Theresa.

Matt had finally caught on to the self-centeredness of both his wife and his partner, but not until he was very married to Theresa and locked tightly into a partnership with Nick. That aside, Nick had turned into a damn good salesman, and the increasing value of Rainbow Systems was due in large part to his efforts. The company was now worth so much that Matt couldn’t afford to buy out his partner even if he wanted to.

During one of their arguments Nick had said they should sell the whole shooting match, retire early, and loaf for the rest of their lives. Matt couldn’t imagine such a thing. The fact that Nick could showed how much of a narcissist he’d become. Matt had learned that term during a counseling session prior to the end of his marriage to the other narcissist in his life, Theresa. Matt would have been hard-pressed to hand Nick his share of the company’s net worth even before the divorce stripped him bare. Now it would be impossible.

So he was forced to keep his mouth shut as Nick continued his Don Juan activities. Each time Matt prayed that the chosen secretary would tell Nick where he could put his little trip to Maui. But Nick apparently knew how to pick ’em, because no one had turned him down yet. Not even Genevieve.