Talk Nerdy to Me (Nerds, #5)(2)
Author: Vicki Lewis Thompson

A huge set of elk antlers hung on the wall behind the bar. On one side a basketball autographed by Michael Jordan hung suspended by a piece of basketball netting, and on the other side hung a football signed by every member of Middlesex High’s 1992 state championship team.

The antlers and sports memorabilia were one socially acceptable explanation for the tavern’s name. The pool table that took center stage was another. Either explanation could be used when kids were around.

But everyone in town knew that the tavern’s owner, Archie Townsend, appreciated stacked women and good sex, so he’d most likely named the Rack and Balls with no thought to sports or pool equipment. A burly guy with a thick black beard, Archie had tried monogamy and had found it too confining.

He was behind the bar washing glasses when Charlie walked in. "Hey, Charlie, how’re they hanging?"

"Just fine, Archie." Charlie took off his jacket and chaps and left them on a peg by the door before taking a seat on one of the vinyl-cushioned bar stools.

"Sam Adams?"

"Not yet, thanks."

Archie gazed at him with the kind of scrutiny that time and mutual affection allowed. "Expecting somebody?" "Uh … yeah."

"A woman, judging from the look in your eye." Archie flipped his towel over his shoulder and leaned against the scarred oak bar. "Not Mariah, I hope."

"No." Charlie noticed he felt no twinge of regret when Mariah was mentioned. It had taken a few months, but he was definitely over her.

"That’s good. She wasn’t right for you."

Charlie didn’t think so, either, mostly because Mariah had labeled his proposed relocation to Nevada a stupid idea. "Maybe I wasn’t right for her. Did you ever think of it that way, Archie?"

"Well, no, on account of any woman would be lucky to hook up with you." Archie used the towel to polish a section of the bar. "If I had a daughter, I’d advise her to chase your ass all the way to Hoover Dam."

Charlie laughed. "Thanks for the vote of confidence." Good old Archie. He’d come to mean even more to Charlie now that his dad was gone. Hard to believe it had been fourteen months since the funeral. Fortunately, his mom had perked up in the past couple of months. Helping Aunt Myrtle in the bakery was taking her mind off widowhood.

"You get that interview set up yet?" Archie asked.

"I heard from them this morning. I fly out to Vegas a week from next Wednesday." Thanks to Aunt Myrtle and the bakery, Charlie didn’t feel so guilty about the new job prospect.

"Good." Archie nodded. "That’s good. I was afraid you’d hang around here forever, thinking you could bring the ML and P into the new millennium."

"I tried."

"God knows you tried. Those old fossils in charge have shit for brains."

Privately, Charlie thought so too but he’d never say so out loud. No point in creating bad feelings. "Ah, you can’t blame them. They still think of me as Rose and Henry’s nerdy little kid, the one who flooded the cafeteria with his science experiment. Nobody’s a hero in his own hometown."

"Like I said, shit for brains. Anyway, their loss." "I might not get the job."

"You’ll get it." Archie flipped the towel back over his shoulder. "So who’s the lucky lady who’s causing you to delay your Sam Adams purchase?"

Charlie glanced at his watch. Three minutes to go. "This isn’t exactly a date."

"She’s meeting you here, right?"

"Right."

"Then voila, it’s a date. Two people happen to run into each other somewhere, that’s not a date. Two people agree to run into each other somewhere at a stated time, then it’s a date. And from the way you keep looking at your watch, you absolutely have a stated time."

"Archie, that’s faulty logic. Two people could have a business meeting at a stated time. That’s not a date."

"Is this a business meeting?"

"Not exactly." Charlie had already decided not to tell anybody about the explosion, provided Eve showed up and he didn’t have to call 911.

Archie smiled. "Then it’s a date."

"Not exactly."

Archie blew out a breath. "You sound like a rental car commercial. Are you going to tell me who it is or what?" "Eve Dupree."

"Eve Dupree." Archie squinted as if trying to place the name. "Isn’t she the New York model who moved here last fall?"

"Yeah. So now you can see why it’s not exactly a date." "Why can I see that?"

"Hey, I’m an engineering geek. You don’t catch successful New York models going out with—"

"That’s what you say. She just walked in the door."

Adrenaline shot through Charlie’s system, but he turned the bar stool seat slowly because he wanted to play this cool. He was aware of Archie watching the proceedings with great delight. Naturally, the seat creaked like the hinges in a horror flick.

"I’m here," she said. "Right on time."

"That’s—" He had to stop and clear his throat. "That’s good." He’d prepared himself to be knocked out by her glamorous beauty. He’d figured on makeup and some designer outfit.

Instead she stood there in a bulky green jacket and fuzzy white earmuffs. Her mop of brown wavy hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she had on a pair of large-framed glasses. If she had on makeup, he couldn’t see any evidence of it. She might be wearing a little bit of lipstick.

She’d obviously taken no pains with her appearance, so why couldn’t he stop looking at her? Critically speaking, her nose was a little too prominent and her forehead a tad bit high. But something kept his attention riveted on her face.

It was her mouth, he decided at last. Her mouth was wide and her lips full in a way that made him think of kissing and . . . yeah, to be completely honest, or*l s*x.

But surely other women had great mouths and he hadn’t been this fixated. Maybe it was her eyes. Even partly obscured by the lenses of her glasses, they were very blue. And besides being beautiful, they shone with a kind of creative intelligence that he found extremely seductive. No telling what was going on in her head, and he loved that. Predictable women drove him nuts. Give him a creative woman anytime.

Apparently the combination of her eyes and her mouth fit his idea of perfection. Or maybe the big draw was the secret she had refused to tell him. He’d always loved puzzles, and she’d presented him with one by having a mysterious explosion in her garage. No matter what the reason, he wanted her. He wanted her bad.

And what an idiot he was! As he’d taken great care to assure Archie, this wasn’t a date. She’d come because he’d threatened to call 911 and expose her garage accident. She wasn’t here because she thought he was wonderful, so the fact that he found her wildly attractive made no difference. Besides, he was leaving town.

He swallowed and attempted to curb his lust. "Want a beer?"

"Sure." She took off her coat and hat. "What kind?"

"Sam Adams would be great."

Charlie almost groaned out loud. She was sexy, she was smart, and she drank his brand of beer. Just his luck, he was not in the market.

Chapter Two

Twenty minutes, which had to include the walk to the tavern, hadn’t given Eve time for more than washing her hands, putting her hair in a ponytail, and swiping on her favorite mocha lipstick. Just as well, she’d thought. From now on, any guy she took a shine to would start out with the real Eve Dupree, not the airbrushed version. That way she’d never be worried that they were attracted to glitz. In spite of her career, glitz was so not her.

Charlie might have expected some glitz, though, because he was staring at her as if he’d never seen a woman without makeup before. Or even one wearing glasses. Oh, well. Great tush or not, he might not work out.

Too bad, too. She certainly admired what she saw— sexy brown eyes, nicely squared-off jaw. She also liked the thin-framed, black-rimmed glasses. The guys she’d dated in the city were into contacts. Personally she didn’t care for them and only used them when she had to on the job. There was something honest and refreshing about just wearing the glasses.

His black leather jacket was gone, revealing a white dress shirt with no tie and the sleeves rolled back. When paired with the jeans, it gave him a casual, almost wholesome look. But she’d seen how the black leather chaps outlined his butt and his package. She didn’t think Charlie was all that wholesome.

As she approached the bar, Charlie stood and introduced her to the tavern owner, Archie Shepherd. As if Eve needed another reason to be attracted, she discovered that Charlie was a good five inches taller than she was. Although she would have loved to be evolved enough to date shorter guys, she wasn’t there yet.

She exchanged niceties with Archie, but all the while she was aware of Charlie’s intensity of focus. There was definitely energy pulsing between them. Whether it was sexual energy or not, she wasn’t sure.

Maybe his stare had been complimentary. He might like his women nerdy. If so, that boded well for the future, because she was and always had been a nerd in a model’s body. No one ever believed that of her, but here was a guy who might.

Finally she picked up her beer, which she’d asked Archie to leave in the bottle, and turned to Charlie. "Ready for that game of pool you promised me?"

"Sure am."

"Whoa, there, Nellie," Archie said. "Did this guy give you a handicap?"

Eve looked Charlie in the eye. Oh, yeah. Sparks. Maybe there was sexual chemistry. "Do I need a handicap?" she asked.

He met her gaze, and his was starting to smolder. "I don’t know. Do you?"

No doubt about it, now. This connection had potential. "That depends." She paused for emphasis. "How good are you?"

"Nobody in town can beat him," Archie said.

Eve lifted her eyebrows. "Is that true, Charlie?"

"Mostly."

"Well, then." She brought the bottle to her lips and tipped it slightly to take a sip. "Let’s see if it’s still true, shall we?" Then she winked and walked over to the cue rack. She used her runway walk on purpose.

"Let’s make it interesting," Charlie called after her.

She already thought it was plenty interesting, but she glanced over her shoulder as she reached the rack. "By doing what?"

Instead of answering right away, he walked up beside her and lowered his voice. "If I win, you’ll tell me what happened in your garage today."

His manner indicated that he hadn’t told Archie about the incident. She appreciated that. "And if I win?"

He smiled, which had quite an effect on her already supercharged libido. "You can tell me whatever you feel is appropriate, given my efforts to make sure you came through it safe and sound."

Standing almost near enough to touch him while they had their own private conversation felt delicious. Now she was certain he didn’t have a girlfriend. Either that, or he was a louse, and she didn’t want to believe that.

"Fair enough." She studied the cue sticks and reached for one that was quite obviously better quality than the rest. The shaft looked straight and the handle was inlaid with onyx and mother-of-pearl in an intricate diamond pattern.

"That’s mine."

She paused, her hand on the smooth shaft. Unconsciously she stroked it. The wood was incredible. She glanced over at him. "Yours? Really?"

"Yeah. I keep it here instead of carting it back and forth on my bike." He paused. "But you can use it."

"I’d be honored." She really should buy herself a pool cue. She’d considered it, but she’d never owned a table, and walking into a pool hall with your own stick advertised either your ability, your arrogance, or both. During her years of playing in the city, she hadn’t wanted to broadcast anything. But this cue of Charlie’s was a pleasure to hold and inspired all varieties of lust, including the sexual kind.

Setting her beer on a nearby table, she wiped her hand on her overalls so she wouldn’t get any moisture from the bottle on Charlie’s stick. Then she sighted down the shaft. Perfectly straight. She didn’t want to read too much into a guy’s choice of pool cue, but so far, she was impressed with everything related to Charlie Shepherd.

If he played a clean game of pool and didn’t throw a tantrum when he missed a shot or happened to lose, then she thought she should tell him about her invention. Fate seemed to have thrown him in her path. He could be just the guy she needed, in more ways than one.

Charlie had never let anyone use his thousand-dollar pool cue. The locals knew it was his and avoided it. During tourist season Archie put it in the back. But this wasn’t tourist season, so Archie had left it on the rack, easily accessible when Charlie came in to practice.

When Eve had wrapped her fingers around it, he’d felt a sexual charge as if she’d taken hold of his dick. Then, to compound matters, she’d started stroking the shaft. Charlie had never seen pool as a sexual game, but he was seeing it now. And Eve could hold his cue stick for as long as she wanted.

Meanwhile his brain, what few cells he still had working, kept repeating a message like a blinking traffic sign: You’re leaving. Don’t get started. But he was already started and didn’t know how to stop. She hadn’t even told him what the explosion was all about, but he had a gut feeling that would only enslave him more.

He studied the remaining cues, reaching for and rejecting three before he finally settled on one. Sheesh. It was just a game, for chrissake, not the national billiards championship. But he didn’t want to look like an idiot in front of her and he would love to win and have her tell him about the explosion.

Finally he settled for the best of Archie’s house cues and turned to discover Eve had picked up a tray of balls and was racking them. She knew how to handle balls, too, cupping them gently in each hand as she positioned them in the wooden triangle.

Charlie broke out in a fine sweat. He’d played tired, he’d played sick, and he’d played drunk, and he’d still been able to make the shots. But he’d never played aroused, and he had a feeling that could destroy his game.

She positioned the balls precisely, sliding her fingers between the bottom row of balls and the rack to keep the triangle tight. She had the sexiest fingers he’d ever seen in his life. He wanted to suck on them.