Gone With the Nerd Read online

  "You can't go by that picture," Flynn said. "It was what, two inches square?"

  "I went home and got a magnifying glass. And you—" She pointed a finger at Zoe. "Look exactly like the person in that picture. Don't deny it."

  "I never did deny it," Zoe said.

  "So you could be her, except then I get here and see you two playing tonsil hockey. And I say to myself, 'Why would any woman in her right mind dump Trace Edwards for Bill Gates?'"

  Flynn happened to think he was better looking than Bill Gates, though admittedly not as rich. In any case, he got the point. Trace Edwards was a catch and a half. He was maybe half a catch, on a good day.

  "But Trace isn't my boyfriend," Zoe said.

  How Flynn wished that were true.

  "I can see that." Luanne waggled her eyebrows. "I can so see that. And here's my conclusion." She paused, keen anticipation shining in her eyes. "You're Zoe Tarleton's double!"

  Flynn gulped. They might be able to work with that. Zoe didn't have a double, but so what? Vera Parsons could be her double for the weekend. He hoped Zoe agreed with him and went along with Luanne on this.

  "You're very smart," Zoe said.

  The tension seeped out of Flynn's shoulders. It would be okay.

  "Did I guess it?" Luanne quivered with eagerness. "Are you really?"

  "I do camera work for her."

  "Yes, and she's good at it, too," Flynn said. He followed Zoe's lead of telling the truth without giving anything away.

  "I get it, I get it! And you're between pictures, so you're taking a vacation with your boyfriend Tony!" Luanne gave a little hop of joy. "Omigod. You have to tell me all about Zoe. What's her favorite food? What's her favorite color? I'll bet it's red, 'cause she wears a lot of red. Does she have any pets? Who's her favorite singer? Or maybe she likes a group better. What's—"

  "Actually, this is a working vacation," Flynn said.

  "Vera's studying a new script, and we should be getting back to it, right, Vera?"

  "Yes, we should."

  "That's okay!" Luanne's enthusiasm remained at full power. "Tell me when you'll be taking a break, and I can come back then!"

  "Well, we have quite a bit to accomplish," Flynn said. "I'm not sure when we might have time for a break."

  "In two hours," Zoe said. "Come back in two hours and I'll give you all kinds of juicy information about Zoe Tarleton. But only on one condition."

  "Anything. I'll do anything."

  "You can't say a single word to anyone about this. Nobody's guessed it except you."

  "I won't say anything. I promise!" Luanne danced a little jig in the pine needles. 'This is so cool. So totally cool."

  "I mean it, Luanne. I can't have the whole town bugging me for details about Zoe."

  "I know." Luanne's eyes shone. "Two hours. I'll be back in two hours." Then she raced away through the woods, her braid flying out behind her.

  "Why did you tell her to come back in two hours?" Flynn realized he was whining, but he couldn't help it. He didn't know what was ahead for him and Zoe, but Luanne certainly didn't figure into any of his potential plans.

  Zoe turned to him. "First of all, because I feel sorry for her. I used to be that age and starstruck. And second of all, because we need to buy her silence. I thought if we offered her something, she'd promise to be quiet."

  "And do you think she'll keep that promise?"

  "Oh yeah." Zoe smiled. "At least for now. She wants Zoe Tarleton's double all to herself."

  Flynn sighed. So did he.

  * * *

  Zoe didn't tell Flynn the third reason she'd told Luanne to come back in two hours. Luanne's impending arrival would keep them from getting completely carried away. From her reaction to him so far, Zoe worried that Flynn had the power to release every last one of her inhibitions.

  While that sounded exciting, it wouldn't allow her to think, and she needed to think... a lot. Given uninterrupted time alone with Flynn, she might forget everything—Kristen, Trace, the script. That wouldn't be doing her or Flynn any favors. Except the obvious.

  "Let's go find out if the gas is gone." She started toward the cabin.

  "Then what?"

  She knew what he was asking. He wanted to know if they'd pick up where they left off, only in the vicinity of condoms. "We need to make some kind of lunch," she said.

  "Cheese and crackers. Oh, and I bought some lemonade."

  "I can live with that. We could work on the script while we're eating."

  "All right. Sounds good."

  As they climbed the steps together, she glanced at him with suspicion. He'd agreed to the script reading much too easily. Something was going on in that supersized brain. "You're fine with reading the script?"

  "Sure. Let's do it."

  "Okay. And Flynn, about what happened out there in the woods ..."

  "I know. You invited Luanne to come back to put the brakes on what's going on between us."

  She should have known he'd be two steps ahead of her.

  "Yes, I did, because we... we seem to lose all perspective."

  "You're right about that." Inside the living room, he caught her arm, but once he had her attention, he released her. "Zoe, if you want to keep the lid on, you have to stop offering to give me a blow job."

  Instantly that was what she wanted to do. Now.

  He held her gaze. "So, are we agreed on that?"

  She fought to remember her earlier plan to concentrate on the work she'd come up here to do. "Um, yes. Agreed. No more offers of a blow job."

  "Because I have to tell you, that weighs on a guy's mind. I'm trying like hell not to poach on Trace's territory, but—"

  "Trace is nothing to me." Whoops. That had sort of slipped out unannounced.

  His eyebrows lifted. "Nothing to you? What do you mean?"

  "He's not actually my boyfriend."

  "I don't get it. According to everything I read, you two are—"

  "That's the whole idea. He's my boyfriend so far as the media is concerned, because it's good publicity. He's big box office; I'm big box office. The fans would love to think we're together." She paused. "And to be totally honest, I think Trace is getting into it."

  "But you're not."

  "No. We have nothing in common except the business."

  Flynn looked at her with those warm gray eyes. "I wish you hadn't told me that."

  "I wish I hadn't, either. Because now I'm the bad guy here, because I've been poaching on Kristen's territory."

  "It's not like I've put up a whole lot of resistance."

  "Of course not!" She spread her arms wide. "I'm Zoe Tarleton, sex goddess! It's not a fair fight, not when we're secluded in this tiny cabin."

  He shook his head. "You're not giving me a whole lot of credit. I like to think I have the power to say no, even to Zoe Tarleton."

  "Then why haven't you?"

  "I did, last night, when I desperately wanted to walk down the hall and climb into your bed. You notice I didn't." "Believe me, I noticed."

  He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. Then he glanced at her with a lazy smile that made him look way too hot. "But I have to say, when you made a second offer today..."

  "Okay! I won't say that ever again. The blow job offers have all expired, effective this minute."

  "You need to know I'm rethinking my commitment to Kristen."

  She flashed back to high school and how her presence had gone a long way to crush Margo's dreams. "Don't rethink it. She's not here to defend herself. Once you're together again, you'll wonder why you ever doubted that commitment."

  He gazed at her. "Let's get something to eat. I think the gas is gone."

  She recognized that the discussion was over for the time being. "I think so, too, but I'm not eager to test it with the butane torch."

  "Me, either. Let's stick with cheese and crackers and lemonade." He walked to the door of the kitchen, where the microwave dinner lay squashed in the middle of the floor, its veggies radiating o
ut in a sunburst pattern. "I'll get the broom."

  "And I'll slice some cheese." They'd reached detente.

  * * *

  At Flynn's suggestion they took their crackers, cheese, and lemonade out to the porch. He thought that might be a wiser venue than the sofa in the living room, now that he knew Trace wasn't part of the equation. That left him to make the decision about what would or wouldn't happen between them.

  That was a lot of responsibility. When he'd imagined they were both being equally bad, that was one thing. But Zoe wasn't being bad at all. She was free to do anything she wanted this weekend.

  He wasn't, unless he wanted to call Kristen and break up with her over the phone. Talk about insensitive. She believed they were moving toward marriage. He'd believed it, too, until last night.

  Now he couldn't think of much else besides having sex with Zoe, which didn't fit very well with proposing to Kristen next weekend. Still, having sex with Zoe was completely illogical. She wouldn't ever consider marrying him, for God's sake. So was he prepared to throw away a viable marriage partner so he could have a night of sex with Zoe?

  Then there was the lawyer-client relationship to consider. He was pretty sure having sex with your client violated a bunch of ethical codes, and he'd never crossed an ethical line in his career. Being a straight arrow suited him down to the ground.

  Once they had sex, they'd never be able to regain their former business relationship. Maybe she'd be able to forget it ever happened, but he wouldn't forget for the rest of his life. If she wanted to remain his client, which she might not, the sex would be the elephant in the living room every time they met.

  "Let's do this scene." Zoe put her lemonade on the rickety table between them and handed the script to Flynn. "It seems like a pivotal one, so it could well be the one they have me read next week. Besides, we'll both relate to the setting."

  Flynn took the script while careful not to make any sudden movements as he sat in the ancient rocker. He expected it to collapse any minute under his weight. That would fit the general pattern of disasters they'd encountered so far.

  He glanced at the scene Zoe had found. "Why are they in a cabin?"

  "Tony convinced her they needed to hide out for a few days until the cops can get some leads on who's after her."

  Glancing quickly over the dialogue, Flynn could tell the scene was a cozy one. Familiar, too.

  "While they're hiding out in the cabin, a policewoman is impersonating Vera and working late in the lab to see if she can trick the kidnappers into showing their hand. But Vera has her computer containing all her notes with her at the cabin, so the formula's not in jeopardy."

  "Unless the impersonation doesn't work and they track her to the cabin."

  "Right." Zoe leaned over so she could see the script, too. She wore the wire-rimmed glasses and had her hair lucked under the floppy orange hat again. She would have looked fairly dorky except that at some point she'd unbuttoned the top two buttons of her blouse. It gaped open, revealing the scalloped top of her bra. There was nothing dorky about Zoe's cleavage.

  He supposed she was wearing what she'd called a nerd bra, plain cotton with the hooks in the back. That didn't matter to him. He was still extremely interested. "Maybe you should fasten the top two buttons of your blouse."

  She glanced down. "Thanks for the suggestion. That suits Vera's character more. I must have unfastened them out of habit." She buttoned up.

  So she unbuttoned her blouse out of habit. Whew. Watching her button it again made his mouth water. It didn't take much imagination to reverse the process. He could see those slender fingers undoing what they'd just fastened before moving on down the line to give him an unobstructed view of the nerd bra and all the beauty it contained.

  "Any other pointers?" she asked.

  "You don't have to do it right now, but you should probably file down your fingernails. And take off the polish."

  She studied her red nails. "Not even a French manicure?"

  "I don't see Vera taking the time and trouble. Short nails, no polish."

  "What does Kristen do with her nails?"

  He wondered if she'd introduced Kristen into the conversation on purpose, so he wouldn't forget about her. "She gets a French manicure, but she's a lawyer and appears in public a lot. Vera's a scientist who spends all her time in a chemistry lab." He paused to look over at Zoe. "Besides, I never said Kristen was a nerd."

  "So she's not?"

  Picturing bookish, quiet Kristen, he realized she fit the profile. "I guess she is."

  "That's what I thought. You two are probably perfect for each other."

  He'd thought so twenty-four hours ago. Now he was afraid they'd bore each other silly. But he felt disloyal saying that. "I guess we are."

  "There you go, Flynn." She smiled. "You have the first line."

  "Yeah." Looking away from that smile wasn't easy, but he finally forced his attention back to the script. If he kept his focus on the dialogue, he might make it through without an incident, although she did have that spicy scent going on. "You might want to skip the perfume, too."

  "You think?"

  "She's not trying to attract a man. She's trying to perfect this formula." "Okay, no perfume."

  Flynn wondered if eliminating the manicure and the perfume would make Zoe less sexy to him. Probably not. As she leaned close, her arm brushing his, even her body heat called to him. He couldn't very well ask her to turn that down. So he concentrated on reading his lines.

  TONY

  I wish I could figure out what it is about you. Vera looks up from her computer.

  VERA

  What do you mean?

  TONY

  You're the least seductive woman I've ever met. So why is it I want to jump your skinny bones?

  VERA

  I can think of two reasons.

  TONY

  Then by all means, enlighten me, because this urge is a real pain in the ass.

  VERA

  Reason number one: I'm different from other women you've taken to bed. I'm a mystery. You wonder how sex would be with a flat-chested nerd like me.

  Flynn paused. "This 'flat-chested' description keeps coming up. How are you going to manage that?"

  "Wrap my boobs in an Ace bandage. I brought one. Do you think I should do that? Would it make the read-through more authentic?"

  "Uh, no. That's okay. I just wondered." He didn't want to think about her going into her bedroom and taking off her blouse and bra. For the good of the cause, she needed to keep all clothes on and all buttons fastened.

  "Ready to continue, then?"

  "Sure."

  "Your line."

  Yes, it was, and he could feel the tension mounting in the scene. And on the porch.

  TONY

  Yeah! You're an effing mystery. If I passed you on the street I wouldn't look twice, but I have to hang around, so I get curious. Like about your brains.

  VERA

  My brains? I thought we were talking about sex.

  TONY

  We are. I wanna know how your brains might figure into the same ol', same ol'.

  "I think about that, too," Zoe said in a soft voice.

  Flynn's body tightened. He kept his gaze mostly on the script. From the corner of his eye he could see she was doing the same, as if she knew that if they looked at each other, it would be all over.

  "Well, don't think about it," he said. "Brains are not a factor."

  "I don't believe you."

  "Sex isn't a thinking activity." Which was why he was in so much trouble. His penis took over the controls, and all his noble resolutions disappeared in a flood of testosterone.

  "Flynn, I don't want to mess up your situation with Kristen."

  Too late. "I know you don't. I appreciate that." He was glad the script covered his lap so she wouldn't see the obvious activity going on there.

  "But I keep thinking about having sex with you. I don't know what to do about that."

  He knew exactly
what to do about it, but they'd have to hurry. Luanne was due to show up in less than an hour.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Zoe had never wanted anyone this much before, but reading the script explained a lot. Flynn was a mystery to her, a fascinating mystery. Despite what he'd said, she believed that a really smart guy would make love more creatively than a guy with average intelligence, but she didn't have enough sexual experience to know for sure. Part of the turn-on might be the unknown.

  Flynn cleared his throat. "Maybe if we just did it, took all the guesswork out of it, we'd be better off." He gazed off into the trees, as if they were contemplating a deep philosophical question instead of whether they'd do the wild thing in a few minutes.

  Zoe glanced off in the opposite direction, although she wasn't seeing the beauty of the forest; she was imagining Flynn naked... on the Bigfoot sleeping bag. She wanted to agree with him. She so wanted to agree with him.

  But she couldn't. "If you're thinking we'd get it out of our system, I'm not so sure about that. Sometimes it works, if people are totally incompatible. They have bad sex and that's the end of that. It's over."

  "We could have bad sex," he said hopefully.

  "You didn't seem to think so the last time we discussed this."

  "Well, it's possible. I don't think bad sex is entirely out of the question. Then we could laugh about it and go on with our lives. Most people have bad sex to start with, right?"

  "I guess." She was no expert. The wind through the tops of the pines sounded like a lover's sigh. Zoe wouldn't mind having a reason to sigh like that. "But what if it's not so bad? What if it leans toward the good side? What then?"

  "I'd rather go on the assumption that it will be bad."

  "Hey, Flynn, now you're starting to sound like me. I'm the one who wants to go on limited information. You're supposed to be the guy who wants all available input." And speaking of input... oh yeah, she could imagine how great a certain type of input would be right now.