Nerd in Shining Armor (Nerds, #1)(33)
Author: Vicki Lewis Thompson

he edged closer. "This is grossing me out."

"Would you rather have me do it and you hold the pressure bandage on his toe?"

"No, I would not." The only thing worse than wrapping his arms around this creepazoid was having Gen do it. After sliding one arm under Nick’s head, Jack transferred the gun to that hand. Good thing he had long arms so he could keep the barrel shoved into Nick’s ear. Then he managed to pull the beach towel around both of them while he slung his other arm over the guy’s clammy chest. – "Closer," Gen said.

"He feels half dead already."

"See? That’s why you have to warm him up."

"If he so much as moves a pinkie, I’m outta here."

"I hope he does move pretty soon. If he stays unconscious, that’s not so good."

Jack rested his chin on Nick’s shoulder. "If I have to snuggle with him, unconscious is my preference. Matter of fact, I could use a little unconsciousness myself."

Gen didn’t say anything for a couple of minutes. Finally she turned to him. "Jack, we’re in kind of a mess."

"Gee, do you really think so?"

"Once I get this bleeding stopped, maybe I should go back for more guavas while it’s still light out."

"I pretty much hate that plan. How’s this? We tie up psycho-man and go over there together."

"That’s crazy." Gen lifted the bandage. "Damn, he’s still bleeding."

"What’s crazy about it? If we tie him up, he sure as hell isn’t going anywhere."

"He’s lost a lot of blood. One of us needs to keep an eye on him, and you’re terrible at going up and

down cliffs. If we’re not rescued soon, we’ll need some kind of liquid. It doesn’t look like rain."

Despite the clammy body he was gripping, Jack was starting to sweat under the beach towel. Sweating meant he was losing water, and he was already thirsty as hell. They definitely needed more guavas, but

he didn’t want Gen going over there alone. Yeah, he would be scared going back down the cliff and then climbing it again, but thinking of Gen doing it by herself scared him more.

"Okay, Gen, I’ve hugged Brogan like you wanted, and I haven’t pulled the trigger on the gun because you asked me not to. If you take everything that’s happened before this into consideration, I think you’d have to agree I’ve been more than reasonable."

She gazed at him. "More than reasonable."

"I’m through being reasonable. If you go for guavas, I’m going with you."

"Jack, it makes no sense. I—"

"I don’t give a damn if it makes sense or not. If you go, I go. Brogan will have to take his chances." He gave her his sternest glare, even though she looked so cute wearing his glasses, so adorably serious and intense.

"Okay," she said finally.

He heaved a sigh of relief. If she hadn’t agreed, he’d have to go anyway, and they’d fight, and he didn’t want that.

"I suppose we should go together," she said. "That’s how we’ve done everything so far, so we might as well keep on doing what’s been working."

"Exactly. And I promise not to get so freaked out about the cliff."

She gave him a small smile. "I think it’s kinda cute, you being afraid of heights."

"Where I grew up it was very flat."

"It looks like it in any pictures I’ve seen."

"I’m thinking of going back there for Christmas. I… um . . . want to ask my grandmother if she’ll crochet me another afghan." As hot as he felt cuddled up to Brogan, an afghan didn’t sound very appealing right now, but by winter it would.

"That’s nice, Jack. But first you’d better grovel. If I happened to be your grandmother, I’d expect you to beg my pardon from here to next Sunday before I’d even consider making you another afghan. You were mighty ungrateful, to say the least."

"I’ll grovel." There was more to this Christmas plan of his, but he hesitated. Oh, what the hell. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. "Would you like to come with me?"

"To Nebraska?" Her eyes widened behind the glasses.

"Yeah. I could show you where I grew up, and you could show me all the things I missed—the hideouts I could’ve built, the trouble I could’ve gotten into if I hadn’t spent so much time inside with my Nintendo. And you could meet my grandmother. I think the two of you would get along great." His heart pounded with anxiety as he waited to see what she’d say.

"That’s a nice idea, but I don’t have the money for a plane ticket to Nebraska. Between helping Mama with the rent and paying the gas and insurance on my car, I don’t have a lot left over."

At least it wasn’t a flat no. "My treat." Jack often wondered what he’d ever do with the money that kept piling up in his bank account. He’d been meaning to buy a new car, but he kept forgetting about it, and he liked the car he had, anyway. He could certainly afford a couple of tickets to Nebraska.

"Oh, Jack, that’s sweet, but I couldn’t accept something that expensive from you."

Still not a no, but yes was getting farther away. "Why not?"

"If I let you pay for my plane ticket, then you might think . . . well, it’s only natural for you to expect—"

"More sex?"

She flushed. "Am I wrong?"

"Yes." Not that he wouldn’t love to have more sex from her, but that was a separate issue. "Damn it, what kind of guy do you think I am, the kind who expects you to trade sex for a plane trip?" Then he lifted his head and glanced at the unconscious slime-bucket he was helping nurse back to life. "You think I’m like Brogan?"

"No, of course not! It’s just that—when men buy things for you, they usually have other things in mind. And maybe that’s fair. I’ve had to count pennies all my life, so I know what it means to get your money’s worth. After all—"

"Whoa right there. Maybe a lot of guys do think like that. I don’t. To me, it’s very simple. If I’d like you to go somewhere with me, then I should pick up the tab. If you want me to go somewhere with you, then you pick up the tab. Having sex doesn’t have anything to do with it."

"But the only tab I could afford to pick up would be for an ice-cream cone. Most guys can buy dinner, movie tickets, a weekend trip. Don’t you see? It’s not equal."

"Trust me, for any guy lucky enough to have you go along, it’s equal. So, will you come to Nebraska if I promise there’s not a sexual surcharge?"

She grinned. "Sexual surcharge. That’s funny."

"I’m a regular laugh riot." She still hadn’t answered him, but he was afraid to push it for fear she’d say no. That would be very depressing, and he didn’t want to be depressed besides being hungry, thirsty, and overheated.

"Getting back to the subject of sex," he said. "You need to know something. I would love to have sex with you after we get back to Honolulu. Not connected with me buying something. Just because it’s so amazing between us."

"Jack, it wouldn’t be the sa—"

"I know you’ve said that, but I can’t believe it. I think it’s worth at least a try."

"And if we try and it turns out bad?"

Never in a million years. "It won’t."

She shook her head. "You can’t guarantee that."

"Sure I can. I—"

Brogan moaned.

Jack pulled away from him so fast he damned near squeezed the trigger on the gun. With the size of the gun, he might’ve blown a hole in Brogan and himself with one shot. Shaking, he scrambled to his feet and pointed the gun at Brogan’s head.

"Oh, Jack, for heaven’s sake."

"I do not want him to wake up while the two of us are all cuddly-wuddly."

"You had a gun barrel in his ear. That should protect your manly reputation."

Brogan moaned again and his eyes fluttered open. Then they closed again.

"What do you think?" Jack murmured.

"The bleeding’s about stopped," Gen said. "And his skin feels warmer, so I think he’s doing better. You’d better go get the cord and we’ll tie him up before he comes completely awake."

"Good idea." Jack walked over, picked up the blood-encrusted cord, and remembered how it got that way. He hurried back over to her. "Gen, let me look at your hand."

"It’s okay."

"Let me see it." He crouched down beside her and took her left hand in his. Even with blurry vision, he could tell it was a mass of dried blood. "Shit. Stop nursing this maniac so we can go down to the water and soak your hand."

"There’s no time." She pulled her hand away. "Let’s roll him over and tie him up so we can get another load of guavas before dark."

"I’ll tie him up. You go rinse your hand in the water."

"It’s all r—"

"Gen, do it." When he saw all that blood on her he wished like hell that he could choke the life out of Brogan. He didn’t trust the gun to finish him off, but choking would be an excellent alternative if the gun failed. Too bad he’d promised Gen not to kill the guy. He had promised, though, so Brogan got to live a little longer.

He tied him up good and tight, yanking on the cord a little harder than necessary, because it made him feel better.

"Jack!"

He glanced up to see Gen running back toward him. He leaped to his feet. "What’s the matter?"

She was panting. "I just saw that scruffy old trawler. Nick’s pickup men are coming this way."

* * *

Although still far from land, Matt had to slow the boat considerably so he didn’t run up on any submerged reefs. The albatross got way ahead, and he wasn’t sorry to see the bird go. This trip was already spooky enough.

Eventually Lincoln returned, looking subdued.

"How’s your mom?" Matt asked.

"Okay, I guess. She’s all, I’m fine, I’m fine. Go back up to the cockpit and get the sandwiches while I make some new ones. But she’s, like, still freaked. And it’s my fault."

Matt took pity on the kid. "Don’t be too hard on yourself. I can see why you got so excited about the albatross. I flipped out the first time I saw one."

"It’s a big honkin’ bird, isn’t it?"

"Yep." Matt decided not to go into the bad luck thing.

"Well, I’d better get the eats shoveled up. At least Mom didn’t, like, break the plate."

"I think it’s that stuff that doesn’t break, but it wouldn’t have mattered if it broke."

"Easy for you to say. I’m all, There goes my allowance if it breaks." He started tossing ham, bread, and lettuce back on the plate. "Can I throw this over the side? For the fish?"

"Why not?"

Lincoln picked up the last of the spilled food and stood. "Isn’t there something spooky about an albatross? Like a superstition or something?"

Matt glanced at him. "Seamen believe it’s bad luck to kill one."

"Well, duh. It should be. They’re beautiful. But it’s not bad luck to, like, see one, is it?"

"I don’t think so. And at least we know there’s land not far away, even if we can’t see it. That’s kind of reassuring."

"Yeah." Lincoln glanced around. " ‘Cause we’re like a toy boat in the middle of a freakin’ big ocean."

"I know where we are, so don’t be scared."

"I’m not scared, dude." Lincoln tried to look cocky. "I was just asking about this albatross deal."

Matt was guessing the kid was at least slightly scared. "Well, an albatross is kind of like a black cat. Some people say they’re bad luck, but personally I like black cats."

Lincoln nodded. "Me, too. I wish I could have a cat. Or a dog. But Mom’s all, Nobody’s home enough

to take care of a pet, which is true."

"What you do is get two cats, so they keep each other company."

"Yeah, that’s what I’m talkin’ about." Lincoln sighed. "But that’s twice as much food and stuff."

Matt’s thoughts leaped ahead. He and Lincoln could get a couple of kittens at the pound. Matt would keep them, so Annabelle wouldn’t have the bother or cost, but Lincoln would have visiting privileges whenever he wanted. Then again, Annabelle would probably nix the whole thing.

"Guess I’ll go dump this over the side," Lincoln said.

"Okay." Matt glanced at the sun and estimated about two hours of good light remained, just enough time to make it back to Kauai. They needed to turn around and abandon this wild-goose chase. Nothing was here. The only other vessel he’d seen was an old trawler, which shouldn’t be fishing because it was a protected area. But Matt didn’t have time to play wildlife cop. Other than the trawler, which he’d spotted about thirty minutes ago before it motored out of sight, they were alone.

They’d checked around a couple of tiny deserted islands and found nothing. Now there wasn’t even one of those in sight. Like he’d told Lincoln, he wasn’t lost. But he still felt isolated. "Lincoln, come here a sec," he called.

"Yeah?" Lincoln climbed the steps, his plate empty.

"Are you still picking up vibes, or whatever it is you’re going on?"

"You think I’m, like, making this up, don’t you?"

"No, not exactly, but I—"

"Hey, never mind. That’s cool. I don’t expect you to believe me. But we’re getting closer."

"How much closer?"

Lincoln shrugged. "I dunno, dude. Just closer."

Matt gazed at him in frustration. "That’s all you can tell me? You’re not picking up anything more specific than that?" He couldn’t believe he was actually asking such a question, but Lincoln was all he had.

"Not on that deal, but I can, like, tell you something else."

"What’s that?"

"Mom thinks you’re hot."

* * *

Genevieve knew they had about two minutes to decide how to handle this new development.

"You’re sure it’s the pickup men?" Jack asked.

"It has to be. It’s an old green and white boat, just like Nick described. Who else would be roaming around? I guess they finally figured out where to go to pick him up."

"This might be our only shot at getting rescued for a long time," Jack said.