Nerd in Shining Armor (Nerds, #1)(9)
Author: Vicki Lewis Thompson

The rest of him was feeling pretty darned delighted, too. His cuts didn’t sting anymore and his muscles were springing back to life. And oh, yeah, he wished he’d stowed his glasses in a different spot. The earpiece was digging into his expanding penis.

He kept expecting her to pull away, but instead she became more enthusiastic with each passing second. Maybe it was more than gratitude. Maybe the near-death experience had made her want to live for the moment, and for the moment, he was handy. That worked for him. Normally he wasn’t very skilled at being at the right place at the right time, but today he was golden.

By now they were both breathing hard, and he thought of a scene from an old movie his grandma loved, where the couple got jiggy on the beach in the surf. From Here to Eternity. That was a sentiment he could relate to, kissing Gen this way.

He was so engrossed in the hot, wet taste of her mouth that he nearly missed the fact that she’d arched her back. When he finally received the message she was sending, he nearly passed out from excitement. She wanted him to touch her br**sts.

His hand was all sandy, but he wasn’t going to reach under her dress, anyway. That would be pushing his luck and potentially ruining his future chances, especially if he sandpapered her soft skin. That’s when he remembered that he’d probably already rubbed her face raw with his beard. Instantly he lifted his mouth away from hers. "I’m sorry," he said, panting hard. "I forgot about my beard. I—"

With a moan she grabbed his head and pulled it down again.

Okay I She didn’t care about his beard! She didn’t care about anything but going for it! A moment didn’t get any better than this. Well, it would be a lot better if he hadn’t tucked his glasses in his underwear. He hoped he didn’t poke out a lens, but he couldn’t worry about that now.

Once he cupped her breast, he had absolutely no worries. Not a single one. Kissing and squeezing, kissing and squeezing. He could keep it up forever, especially when she moaned like that. She had some sexy moan. If he could program it into the sound card of his computer, he’d stay permanently aroused.

Her kiss became more feverish, and he wondered if she was losing touch with reality and forgetting who she was kissing. Probably. In that case, he might be able to try … anything.

His heart hammered at the idea. But he wasn’t quite beyond reason. That might be one of his failings,

that he never let himself go, not completely. Someday he might curse himself for not taking full advantage of this situation. But he wasn’t going to.

Knowing that, he figured he’d better ease up on the kiss. A guy could be noble for only so long, listening to a woman moan the way Gen was moaning. He changed from full mouth contact to tiny nibbles, and

at last, he lifted his head and took his hand, very reluctantly, from her breast.

Slowly she sank back to the damp sand, her eyes closed. He watched her, waiting to see what would happen when she opened those eyes. He had some time to study her face, and sure enough, his beard

had given her a case of whisker burn. He wasn’t proud of that.

More time went by, and she still hadn’t dared to open her eyes, but her cheeks were now an even deeper color, and it wasn’t all from whisker burn. She was blushing.

Finally he couldn’t stand it any longer. "Gen?"

"I can’t believe I let you do that."

So she regretted giving him liberties. He shouldn’t be surprised, shouldn’t even be disappointed, but he was. "Look, nobody ever has to know. You can trust me."

She opened her eyes. "I know I can. But it’s your opinion that I’m worried about."

"My opinion of you hasn’t changed." That wasn’t exactly true. He’d always wondered whether she’d be cool and sophisticated in bed. Not from this new information.

Too bad this was the first and last time he’d get a glimpse of her passion potential. It had been exciting while it lasted.

"I’ll bet you’re just saying that to make me feel better. I’ve acted like a … like a tramp."

He decided they both needed to lighten up. "Boy, you sure know how to hurt a guy. I thought it was my manly sex appeal that caused all this."

"You do have manly sex appeal, Jackson." She seemed quite amazed by the discovery.

"Jack." He’d hold onto that, at least.

"Okay, Jack. I never would have thought so, but with your beard, and—"

"It was rough on your face. I’m sorry about that."

"The beard made all the difference. When you kissed me I felt like a maiden captured by a pirate, a maiden who had been flung down on the sand and . . . well, you know what I mean."

"Ravished?" He liked the sound of that. He’d never been accused of ravishing anyone before.

"I guess ravished would be the word. I think what we went through today knocked me off-center, and

I plumb forgot who you were."

Ouch. He cleared his throat. "Yeah, me, too." Like he’d ever forget who she was. "Anyway, I enjoyed myself, and I … hope you did."

"I did, too, Jack."

He gazed down at her and wished they could do it all again. But they probably wouldn’t, because now she’d come to her senses.

"And I want to thank you."

"For?"

"For … for everything. I couldn’t have asked for a better person to be stranded with than you. You’ve been wonderful."

He had the definite feeling that with that comment she was putting the lid on the gratitude jar. There would be no more kisses given because she appreciated all he’d done for her, no more caresses invited because she’d almost died and wanted to vent some of that pent-up emotion with someone she pretended was a pirate. The window of opportunity had been closed and latched.

He smiled at her. Something was better than nothing, and today he’d had more than he’d ever bargained on. "You’re welcome," he said.

* * *

Genevieve felt marginally better after talking it out with Jack, but she still wondered how she’d face him

in the office once they were rescued and had returned to their regular routine. It might take months for this moment to fade from their memories. It might never go away, and whenever he approached her

desk or they met at the water cooler, they’d both be thinking of lying on the sand together with his hand squeezing her breast.

She needed to make sure that nothing else embarrassing happened before they were rescued. She didn’t know exactly when that would be, but at least by tomorrow people should start looking for them. In the meantime, she and Jack needed to figure out how to make themselves comfy.

"I’m getting up, so I can look around this place. Maybe we’ll find something to eat."

He moved to allow her to sit. "Eat? What could we possibly find?"

"I don’t know yet. We’ll have to look." She got to her feet and dusted off her clothes, which were beginning to dry in spots. In the process she noticed her fingernails were a mess. She held them up close so she could examine the damage better. "Ugh. Mama spent so much time trying to make my nails look good, and now they’re a wreck."

"Is that what she does for a living?"

"Yes. She’s very good, too. She—" Genevieve stopped talking when she glanced over to where Jack was standing. He’d unzipped his pants and was fumbling around in his underwear. She stared at him. "Jack! What in the name of heaven are you doing?"

"Getting my glasses." He pulled them out, put them on, and then proceeded to zip his pants and buckle his belt.

"You could warn a girl, you know! Even down in the Hollow a guy yells a warning if he’s going to unzip!"

"Sorry." His cheeks grew pink. "I didn’t think you were looking."

"Well, I wasn’t, but then—I mean, anybody would notice. We all grew up fast in the Hollow, but most everybody maintained the common decencies."

His gaze grew less embarrassed and more speculative. "What do you mean, grew up fast?"

She should have known he’d pick up on that. She hadn’t meant to say it, especially after the way she’d let him touch her breast a while ago. "My cousin Lurleen was pregnant at the age of twelve." Finally she decided it didn’t matter if she told him. Let him think what he wanted. "I lost my virginity when I was thirteen," she said. "Later than most."

"That’s still very young."

"People expect that to happen back home." She paused. "I suppose you think that’s why I let you …"

"I wasn’t thinking that."

"Because it’s not the reason. I moved here and changed myself. I’m not that kind of girl anymore."

"Gen, I know that."

"You probably think because I was going off for a night alone with Nick that I’m the kind of person who does that, but I don’t. I thought Nick was going to be my future husband."

"Nick?"

It sounded ridiculous now, so she decided to shut up about it.

But Jack didn’t want to shut up about it. "How in hell could you have decided that? Even before I knew he was a murdering, crazy son of a bitch, I knew he was a self-centered, womanizing—"

"I thought that was because of his childhood. Matt told me he had a terrible childhood. I thought that I would be the one who could—oh, never mind! You wouldn’t understand!" She turned and started off down the beach.

"Wait." Jack’s bare feet thumped through the sand as he ran after her. "Don’t get mad, Gen." He caught her arm and turned her around. "I didn’t mean to sound critical."

"Yes, you did. You think I’m an idiot for thinking I could find true love with Nick Brogan. And obviously I was."

"No, you weren’t. Maybe you were a little too romantic, but that’s no crime. You were looking for the best in him, just like you look for the best in everyone, including me. That’s what I want to tell you, that I’ve appreciated the way you’ve always tried to be friendly, and polite, and give me good advice. You’re a very caring person."

"Thank you, Jack. That’s a nice thing to say." She gazed up at him. His eyes were getting all smoky again, like they had right before he’d kissed her the last time. She was not about to let that happen again. "Come on," she said. "I think I see a guava tree growing down by that crevice in the rocks. And I’m starving."

Chapter 6

Every time the phone rang in the beauty salon, Annabelle stopped what she was doing and listened to see if it was for her. She was in the middle of a pedicure when the phone rang again, and she was so sure that it had to be Genevieve that she lifted her client’s foot from her lap and started to get up.

But it wasn’t Genevieve, obviously, because Elena, the receptionist, didn’t come to get her. She settled back down and reached for a bottle of burgundy polish.

"Are you expecting a call?" asked her client. Judi was tall, tanned, and covered in gold jewelry. She tipped very well.

Annabelle liked her. She liked most of her clients, and she’d learned not to envy them their privileged lifestyle. "Genevieve flew over to Maui today," she said, trying to make that seem like an ordinary occurrence. "She usually calls."

"Oh, she probably got busy." Judi was at least ten years older than Annabelle, but she’d taken great care of herself, so she didn’t look fifty. She had two grown sons living on the mainland. "You know how kids are. They never realize how we worry."

Genevieve realizes. But Annabelle smiled, as if she understood these things as well as Judi. But she didn’t. She had a different relationship with Genevieve than Judi had with her Ivy League-educated sons. Annabelle and Genevieve had been through a lot together. Genevieve would remember to call. She might have been rushed right into a meeting, though, so Annabelle told herself to be patient.

"I’m surprised Genevieve hasn’t talked about going back to the mainland," Judi said. "That’s all Curt and Eric could think about while they were in high school. Isn’t it funny that Hawaii is supposed to be paradise, but kids seem just as eager to leave here as they would if we raised them in some dinky little town in Iowa?"

"I guess they have to spread their wings," Annabelle said. She felt guilty that she hadn’t been able to let Genevieve do that, but she needed the money her daughter brought in, at least for another couple of years. She hoped money wasn’t behind Genevieve’s interest in this Nick person. The girl hadn’t been raised to covet wealth, but maybe she was tired of working so hard to make ends meet. Nick wasn’t the answer, though. Annabelle could tell that the minute she’d met him.

"How’s Lincoln doing these days?" Judy asked. "Still with the wild hair?"

"Still," Annabelle said. "He’s gone patriotic for the summer. Red, white, and blue."

"Oh, my God." Judi rolled her eyes. "You’re very understanding. I’m not sure I would have been able to deal with Curt and Eric dyeing their hair. And their father would have hit the roof." She paused. "Brad and I are getting along better these days, Annabelle. He’s mellowed a lot. We’re even enjoying sex more."

"That’s wonderful." Annabelle smiled again. It always amazed her how much her clients would reveal about themselves. She knew nearly everything about them, and they knew almost nothing about her, except that she was single and had a daughter working for Rainbow Systems and a son in high school

who loved to dye his hair crazy colors. They’d never heard about the Hollow, and they never would.

She didn’t want them to think of her as a hillbilly.

"The menopausal years are tough, you know?" Judi shook her head. "Although you seem to be doing fine. I swear you don’t look a day over forty, Annabelle. Maybe more like thirty-five or six."

"You don’t look your age, either," Annabelle said, knowing it was expected. "Nobody does these days." She’d always let Judi assume she was older to cover up the fact she’d been pregnant at fifteen. "Are we doing anything special for these toes besides the burgundy polish?"

"What do you suggest?"

"Tiny white orchids might be nice."

"Perfect. You’re such an artist, Annabelle. I have a friend from California visiting next week, and I’ve already told her she has to come in and get a manicure and pedicure while she’s here."