Talk Nerdy to Me (Nerds, #5)(37)
Author: Vicki Lewis Thompson

Denise’s eyes sparkled. "In the nation’s breadbasket, of course."

"You’d move to the Midwest?" Eve couldn’t have been more shocked if Denise had said she was piercing her navel. That could be coming next, for all she knew.

"Heavens, no. I would only visit. And Manny would visit. We’d time our visits to coincide, while we checked on our franchise." She gazed off into space, as if imagining those visits as becoming exceedingly conjugal.

"Oh." Eve was trying to picture this arrangement, with Denise managing from the East Coast and Manny from the West Coast, with periodic "meetings" in the middle. Denise obviously had high hopes for these meetings.

"If an X-rated bakery does so well in a town like Middlesex," Denise continued, "then it should make money hand over fist in a small town where the most exciting thing is a potluck at the Grange Hall and bingo in the church basement. Manny and I will introduce them to Booby Buns and Bawdy Breadsticks. The money will pour in."

"Sounds like a plan." Eve wondered what the folks at Yale would think about this little sideline. Yikes.

"It could work," Charlie said grudgingly. "I’m no marketing whiz, but you may be onto something."

"Oh, we are." Denise stretched her arms over her head. "And I am a marketing whiz. We have a bright future. Well, it’s been a long day. I’m off to bed."

Charlie watched her go. "That might take care of everything."

"What do you mean?"

He glanced at her. "Now she has her own exciting new project. She might not be so jealous of yours."

"That’s assuming she’s the saboteur." Eve still wanted it to be someone else, preferably someone she didn’t know. Although it was illogical, a bushy-haired stranger would work fine with her.

"In any event, I need to get this damned engine to work right." He moved toward the workbench and put on his goggles.

"Charlie, you sound tired." Exhaustion was creeping up on her, too. Neither of them had gotten much sleep last night, and they’d been going full throttle all day. "Why don’t you go home and get some rest?"

Charlie turned toward her. "You have to be as tired as lam."

"So, I’ll get some sleep, too. We’ll tackle this first thing in the morning."

He glanced around the garage. "That’s not going to work."

"Why not?"

"Because while I’m gone and you’re asleep, someone could booby-trap the hovercraft."

She must be really tired, because she’d forgotten that the house wasn’t secure. Not only that, if Denise happened to be the culprit, she was already in residence and could sabotage at her leisure.

"I’ll sleep out here tonight," Charlie said.

"Alone?"

"Yeah." He didn’t look happy about it. "I don’t know who we’re dealing with, or how desperate they might be."

"Then I’m definitely staying out here with you! We’ve already established that you’re no Chuck Norris."

"And you are?" He smiled at her.

"No, but it would be two against one."

"Unless there are two of them. Seriously, I’d be a nervous wreck if I thought I had to protect both you and the hovercraft. I wouldn’t be able to sleep at all."

That was the only argument that made sense to her. "Okay, I’ll take the cushions off the couch and get you fixed up. Because you need sleep now. Your eyes are half-closed."

"Does that mean I have bedroom eyes? I always wanted bedroom eyes."

"Charlie, you most certainly have bedroom eyes. You’re, all about the bedroom. When you kiss me, you have bedroom lips. When you touch me, you have bedroom hands. Everything about you screams bedroom, especially your very sizable—" The sound of the doorbell prevented her from mentioning the most bedroom thing about him, the part that she’d be dreaming about tonight while she slept all alone in her round bed.

"Let me get that," she said. "Then I’ll bring your cushions and some bedding out to you. You just relax."

"Sorry, but we’re getting that together." Charlie followed her into the kitchen. "Although I have to say I’m encouraged whenever someone rings the doorbell instead of using a key."

Eve groaned as a piece of logic hit her between the eyes. "Charlie, why didn’t we just have the locks changed today?" She couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of it.

"Because we’re exhausted and not thinking straight. Don’t feel bad. We couldn’t even manage to cancel the exterminator appointment, let alone think about changing the locks. No wonder I can’t break the combination on that rotary engine. My brain is fried."

Then she thought of something even more damning. "Why didn’t Denise suggest it?" She turned and looked at Charlie, her chest tight with fear. "Denise thinks of everything."

"Maybe not everything," he said gently.

She blew out a breath. "Well, at least we can still set the trap." Now she absolutely had to catch the intruder. If they didn’t find out who was doing this, she’d always suspect her sister, which would affect their relationship forever.

When she got to the door she checked the peephole. "It’s Rick."

"Is he wearing antennae?"

"No, but his hair looks kind of wild and there’s a hickey on his neck." Eve opened the door. Because Rick’s seduction attempt had actually improved Denise’s mood,Eve felt more kindly toward him. "Come in," she said. "I thought you’d still be with Eunice."

This time Rick was trying to imitate an alien although he sounded more like a chipmunk. "Greetings, earth-lings! I am visiting your quaint dwelling to inquire if you have any extra C batteries! Ours seem to be deceased!"

"Bummer." Charlie coughed and cleared his throat, as if he’d been about to laugh. "Take my advice. Use alkaline next time."

"Dude, I don’t care what kind they are, just so they keep the vibrator going. We are in desperate circumstances over there. Eunice tore her place apart looking for spare batteries. Man, was she fuming. She was this close when the thing up and died."

"TMI, Rick." Eve grinned as she walked back toward the garage. "I’ll see what I can find. I think the ones in my flashlight work."

"I hope so," Rick said. "I offered to go down on her, but she said the vibrator would make her cli**x more intense."

Charlie shook his head. "Modern science is ruining us for the simple things of life."

Eve wanted to say that it hadn’t ruined her, but she wasn’t quite as willing to share the details of her sex life as Rick seemed to be. She found the flashlight under the workbench and switched it on. "Works fine."

"That’s great," Rick said. "The point is, we can’t do the actual thing yet, because she has some plans for me. I think they involve that vibrator, so the batteries are critical to the operation. And you know, everything shuts down at nine in this town except the Rack and Balls, which doesn’t carry batteries. I called to check."

This time Charlie did laugh. "I’ll bet Archie got a kick out of that."

"Yeah, he thought it was pretty funny. It took him a while to answer, because he couldn’t catch his breath from laughing so hard."

Eve emptied the batteries out of the flashlight and handed them to Rick. "Bon appetit."

"Thanks." Rick hesitated. "Um, is it okay if I talk about… the investigation?"

Eve’s good humor vanished as she remembered what Rick had said to Charlie earlier today. "I understand you think my sister might be guilty."

"She might be," Rick said, "but to be fair, Eunice could be, too."

"What makes you think so?" As much as Eve didn’t enjoy the conversation, she had to admit that Rick might get information from Eunice that no one else would.

"She doesn’t think it’s fair that you got to be so tall."

Eve stared at him. "So what, she’s going to cut me down to size?" She was so sick of all the jealousy apparently aimed at her. "Sheesh. I can’t help that I’m tall! I can’t help that I seem to be what the fashion designers want!"

"I know that," Rick said. "It’s not your fault, and Eunice was doing okay with it, but now you might make a bunch more money with the hovercraft. She wasn’t worried about that before, but after Charlie said it was a good thing, she … well, she just thinks you have it all, and it’s not fair."

"Damn it." Eve began to pace. "Why can’t people be happy for others? Why can’t they be grateful for who they are instead of wishing they could be somebody else? And besides, my life isn’t perfect. I can’t seem to find the right person to share my—" She stopped abruptly as she realized with horror what she’d been about to say. Exhaustion was a dangerous thing.

She didn’t dare look at Charlie. "Anyway, it doesn’t matter, I guess. I’m going ahead with this project no matter who gets bent about it."

"Yes, you sure are," Charlie said quietly.

"Okay, then." Rick cleared his throat. "I’ll bid you two kids good night. Thanks for the batteries."

After he left. Eve went into the living room and started pulling cushions off the couch. She was using more force than necessary because she was tired, frustrated, and disillusioned.

"Let me help." Charlie started to pick up a cushion.

"Never mind. I’ve got it." Her jaw was clenched and her whole body vibrated with pent-up emotion as she scooped up all three seat cushions and carried them, balanced precariously, into the garage.

"I wish I could be the man you need," he said gently.

"Well, you can’t." She let the cushions fall to the garage floor.

"Wait. Don’t you want to put something down first? They’ll get all dirty."

"It doesn’t matter." She stomped back to the living room and down the hall, where she opened a cupboard and pulled out sheets and a couple of spare blankets. Then she snagged a pillow from her bedroom and started back toward the garage.

"It does matter. There could be motor oil on the floor of that garage."

"So what? Pretty soon I’ll be even richer, so I can buy everything new. Didn’t you hear the news? In no time, I’ll have it all."

"Eve. . ." His voice was pleading as he followed her through the kitchen.

"Don’t get me wrong." She kicked the cushions into line and crouched down to tuck the sheet around them. "I’m grateful for everything you’re doing. I’ll be happy to give you a percentage. I should have mentioned that earlier. What’s fair? Fifty percent?"

"I don’t want anything."

She laid both blankets on top of the makeshift bed and placed the pillow at the head of it. "I know." She stood, gazing at him, her heart breaking. He wanted nothing from her and she wanted everything from him. "Sleep tight." She walked out of the garage, closing the door after her.

Chapter Twenty-seven

Charlie didn’t sleep great, but he slept. Throughout the night he kept waking up. First he’d wonder where he was. Then he’d remember and start dealing with the problems inherent in the sofa cushions. The total length of them turned out to be about ten and a half inches shorter than he was, plus they kept separating whenever he moved. He was also concerned about how dirty they were getting lying on the garage floor.

Once he’d worried about the sofa cushions for a while, he’d lie awake thinking about the chance of an intruder trying to get into the garage. They’d have some trouble, because he’d decided to bring his bike inside and park it next to the door. If the bike fell over, then Charlie would know he had trouble. In case that trouble arrived, he’d laid a twelve-inch crescent wrench on the floor within reach.

After he’d thought about the odds of someone trying to come through that door, he’d get around to thinking about the most troubling subject of all—Eve. He’d remember how sad she’d looked standing there beside the bed she’d made for him. He’d relive the time they’d spent together— the pool-playing, the hovercraft work, the sex, especially the sex.

Then he’d try to talk himself into staying in Middlesex for the rest of his life so he could be with Eve. When that didn’t feel like the right solution, he’d rehearse speeches in which he asked her to come with him to Vegas. Then he’d give up on that option as unworkable, punch the pillow a few times, a pillow that smelled like her perfume, and finally go back to sleep.

When his bike fell over with an ungodly crash, he leaped to his feet. A faint strip of light showed under the garage door, but that could be headlights. He had no idea what time it was. Heart pounding, he grabbed the wrench and prepared to defend the hovercraft.

Denise poked her head out the door and a shaft of light poured through the opening. She looked at the fallen bike. "What the hell is going on?"

"I decided to stay here through the night. What are you doing up?" Planning to sabotage the hovercraft?

"It’s morning, hotshot. Eight already."

Charlie glanced at his watch. So it was. If she was planning a sabotage move, she was getting a really late start on it. "Is Eve still asleep?"

"Yeah, she’s out cold, so I decided to make some coffee. Then I heard somebody snoring out here, so I thought I’d better investigate."

"I don’t snore." No doubt she was making this up as she went along, to justify her coming out to the garage to do … something.

"How would you know? You’re asleep when it happens."

She had him there. He didn’t know if he snored or not.

Denise glanced at the bike. "That’s not a very smart place to park it, you know."

"I meant to park it there."

She met his gaze. "I see. So that you’d know if anybody tried to get in the garage." "Could be." And you did.

"Hey, what’s happening?" Eve’s voice drifted from inside the kitchen. "Is Charlie okay?"

"Charlie’s fine." Denise continued to hold Charlie’s gaze, as if looking away would signal a weakness. "I just tripped his booby trap by knocking over his bike, which he’d parked in front of the door."