Nerd in Shining Armor (The Nerd Series Book 1) Read online

  “Your relatives made moonshine?” He was totally fascinated, and while he thought about men in red long johns running the ridges of Tennessee to escape the tax man, he nearly forgot that he’d have to put the plane down on the tiny wedge of land that looked too small to handle a helicopter, let alone a plane that had to taxi to a stop.

  “They still make moonshine,” she said. “From a family recipe. It’ll clean out your sinuses and marinate your tonsils.”

  “I’ll just bet.”

  “You’re flying the plane great, Jackson. We’re nearly out of gas, huh?”

  “We should make it to that island.”

  “It doesn’t look very big.”

  “No.” He glanced over at her. “So what happened when Uncle Rufus went out to investigate the noise?”

  She motioned him to face forward. “Keep your eyes on the road. Or on the sky. Whatever. Don’t look at me.”

  He’d rather look at her than at the tiny island they were headed for, and it wasn’t as if he had to worry about running into anything up here. But obviously she expected him to look out the windshield while he was flying the plane, so he did that.

  “That’s better. Why didn’t you shave this morning?”

  “Got up too late.” And it suddenly hit him that if he’d missed this plane, she wouldn’t have had a prayer of getting out alive. She barely had one now, but there was a slim chance he’d be able to set this thing down without killing them both.

  She sighed. “Jackson, you simply have to pay better attention to your grooming. I’m sure Matt didn’t want you going to Aloha Pineapple looking like you just climbed out of bed.”

  “I was planning to buy a razor and some shaving cream in the drugstore and shave before I went to Aloha.” He felt like a little kid being reprimanded, which didn’t fit in with his hero schtick at all.

  “I’m relieved to hear that. You have a really nice profile, you know.”

  “I do?” He sat up a little straighter.

  “What I can see of it between the bristles sticking out all over that chin of yours. It’s hard to believe you grew those porcupine quills in one night. Looks like they could take the rust off a tailpipe.”

  He laughed. All these months he’d been daydreaming about a Genevieve who was cool and sophisticated, way too cool and sophisticated for the likes of him. He loved being wrong.

  “Um, Jackson, if we’re going to land on that sorry excuse for an island, don’t you have to start getting lower?”

  He did, but the whole concept had him dripping with sweat. He shoved gently forward on the wheel and the nose dropped, giving him a view of more ocean and island, less view of sky. He hated to lose the sky. Flying through it at a steady speed had begun to appeal to him. If the bastard had put more gas in the plane, they could have gone on.

  He had no idea what that might have accomplished, without a radio. He’d still have to land all by himself, and in a more populated area he might take out some other innocent folks in the process. No, it was better to land out here. His stomach pitched.

  “I don’t see anyplace that looks flat.” Genevieve’s voice trembled slightly.

  “Me, either.” The island jutted out of the ocean like a chocolate cake made by a six-year-old—brown lava rock with a few decorations of green along the steep sides and near the bottom, where a small crescent beach shone ivory in the sun. The top of the island reminded him of a pitted moonscape. He’d be surprised if it was more than two hundred yards across. There was no sign of life.

  “What are we going to do?” The tremble in her voice was more pronounced.

  He could only see one option. “Can you swim?”

  “Swim?” Panic edged her words. “What do you mean, can I swim?”

  “Can you swim?” He was yelling, but he couldn’t help it. If she couldn’t swim, he didn’t know how the hell they’d survive, because he didn’t think he could get them both to shore. He steepened the descent and cut the speed. He could see whitecaps now.

  “Yes, I can swim! Are you telling me we have to land in the water?”

  “I don’t see any alternative.” He clenched the wheel, clenched his teeth, even clenched his toes. If there was a coral reef just under the surface, they were done for. “I’ll try to put it down as close to that beach as I can get without running into the cliff. Once we hit the water, we—”

  “Hit the water? Can’t you just settle the plane gently down into the water?”

  “Look, this is not the fucking Millennium Falcon, okay?”

  “Don’t get all mad at me! I’m not the one who got us into this.”

  “No, it was your precious boyfriend Nicky, wasn’t it? What did you ever see in that slick talker, anyway?” The water drew closer.

  “He seemed very nice! I suppose you knew all along that he was a murderer, because you’re so smart. Tell me, Mr. Smarty-Pants, if you didn’t trust him, why did you come on this trip?”

  “Because Matt asked me.” God, they were coming in too fast, the water skimming along underneath them. He worked with the flaps, hoping that would help. It seemed to, a little. “And because I thought—”

  “What? Oh, Jackson, we’re going to die, aren’t we?”

  “I don’t know.” But he thought they might, so he decided to tell her. “I came on this trip mostly because of you. I thought I might be able to help you when Brogan broke your heart.”

  “That’s so sweet. I take back calling you Mr. Smarty-Pants.” Her voice was thick, like she might be crying. “You are smart, though, and I admire that. And you’ve always been nice to me, especially on this trip, when I was scared.”

  “I’m sorry I’m not a better pilot.”

  “You’re doing your best.”

  “Okay, I’m going to cut the motor. We’ll go down pretty fast after that. Once we’re down, get out of the plane as quick as you can and start swimming for the beach. Don’t try to find me first. Just start swimming.”

  “Okay. Same with you. Just start swimming.”

  “And you’re sure you can swim?”

  “Yes.” She choked back a sob. “Every kid in the Hollow learns to swim.”

  “Good. Cover your head with your arms.” He cut the motor.

  Waiting for the impact was horrible, and it seemed to take forever. Genevieve had time for plenty of regrets and prayers and loving thoughts for the mother and brother she might never see again. Would the plane never land?

  Then it did, and she wished it hadn’t. The water had no give to it, and they hit so hard the windshield cracked. She tasted blood and knew she’d bitten her tongue.

  Still, she was alive.

  “Let’s get the hell out of here!” Jackson shouted.

  And thank God, so was Jackson. As water poured in from the open cabin door, she struggled to unfasten her seat belt.

  “Come on, Gen!” Jackson shouted again.

  “I’m trying!” She concentrated harder on the seat belt as the water level in the cockpit rose almost to her knees. At last the seat belt came free. Then she couldn’t think what to do next.

  Jackson was already on his feet. “Through the back door, damn it!” He started to lift her out of her seat.

  “I’m going!” Shitfire, she didn’t want him worrying about her. He’d said it would be every man for himself. She waded through the plane to the open door, took a quick look to make sure she knew where the beach was, and realized she’d lost her right contact. She shut her right eye and looked through her left.

  “Go!” Jackson yelled in her ear.

  “I’m going!” The beach still seemed much too far away. She was used to swimming for enjoyment, not distance. Oh, well. She launched herself into what she prayed weren’t shark-infested waters and started swimming as fast as she could.

  The crawl stroke, her old reliable method of getting herself through the water in a hurry, was twenty times harder while wearing a dress, jacket, and high-heeled sandals. But stopping to take them off could leave her a sitting duck for Jaw
s and all his relatives. She kept going until her arms ached and her lungs burned. At least the water was warm, but after a while she forgot to be thankful for that because her body was in such agony.

  Finally she switched to the breast stroke and squinted through her left eye again. The beach didn’t appear to be much closer, damn it. Maybe she should just drown and get it over with. Then she wouldn’t care what ate her.

  “First one to the beach gets a Starbucks Mocha Frappuccino!”

  Treading water, she turned her head and saw Jackson bobbing about two yards away. Without his glasses on. “Can you see?”

  “Sort of.” He swam a little closer. “At least I recognized you.”

  “Very funny.” Treading water like this let her catch her breath, although she didn’t want to think of what could be circling her, waiting to move in and take a big juicy bite. But as long as she was taking a break, she might as well work herself out of her shoes. “Did you lose your glasses?”

  “Nope. Tucked them inside my underwear.”

  She assumed that meant he wore tighty whiteys instead of boxers. Knowing Jackson, that figured. She nudged one shoe off and glanced back to where they’d left the plane. Nothing but water. “The plane’s gone.” She felt even more vulnerable now that their link to civilization had sunk beneath the waves.

  “I know. Come on,” he said. “Race you to the beach.”

  “I’ll be lucky if I get to the beach. Couldn’t you have landed a little closer?”

  “I should have, huh? I totally forgot that the water taxis aren’t running at this hour.” He grinned at her.

  “Jackson, did you take a blow to the head? In case you haven’t noticed, we’re in a heap of trouble here.”

  “I suppose.”

  “You suppose? First there’s the swim to the beach, where we might either drown or be gobbled up by sharks. Then once we get to the beach we have no supplies, no flares, no nothing.” And no shoes for her, now that she’d kicked off the second one. But she was used to being barefoot.

  “Yeah, but did you notice that we’re not up in the air anymore?”

  “Well, sure, but—”

  “I landed the plane! And I didn’t kill us! Gen, that’s awesome.”

  “I guess it is.”

  “I can hardly believe I did that.”

  She’d never noticed that his eyes were blue, maybe because they were usually bloodshot and covered by smudged lenses. She’d have better luck finding him a girlfriend if she could get him into contacts. Then again, maybe he looked better because one of her contacts was missing. She closed her right eye and used only her left. And there he was, still fairly date-worthy.

  “Are you winking at me?”

  “No. I lost one contact.”

  “Oh. For a minute there I thought you might be trying to hit on me.”

  She knew he was joking, and yet something in his voice told her it wasn’t totally a joke. Before the plane crashed he’d said something about coming on this trip so that he could help her. Was it at all possible that Jackson had a crush on her? Now, that would be awkward.

  “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get moving.”

  “Okay.” Taking a breath, she started swimming toward shore again, and not having her shoes helped considerably. She would make it, damn it.

  But distressingly soon her arms began to ache again and she grew short of breath. She switched to the breast stroke and then the side stroke, always aware of Jackson swimming steadily beside her. Whenever she slowed, he slowed. He was keeping pace with her. She just wasn’t sure she’d be able to keep pace with him.

  They needed to discuss it. She stopped swimming and began treading water again.

  He noticed immediately and followed suit. “Need a break?”

  She nodded, too winded to speak. But he didn’t seem winded at all. She’d never have guessed he’d be in good physical shape. She’d assumed that he spent all his time in front of the computer and never got any exercise.

  “You can make it, Gen,” he said.

  She liked the way he’d started calling her Gen instead of using her full name. It made them seem closer, like buddies, and right now she needed that feeling, because he was her only hope. But she didn’t want to put him in more danger because she wasn’t up to the challenge.

  “It’s not much farther,” he said.

  She glanced toward shore and was even more discouraged when the vision in both eyes was blurry. “I lost my other contact.”

  “When we get there you can wear my glasses.”

  His gentleness made her want to cry. “I’m not sure I’m going to get there,” she said. “I’m so tired.” She looked at him with a mixture of admiration and frustration. “How come a brainiac like you swims like an Olympic athlete?”

  He treaded water and gazed at her. “Nerds work out, too, you know.”

  “You belong to a gym?” She couldn’t picture it.

  “No. I have a whole setup at home. I work out when I’m thinking about a project, and since I’m usually thinking about a project, I work out a lot.”

  “Well, I don’t work out at all, and I’m fading fast. I want you to go on ahead.”

  “Like hell.”

  “No, really, Jackson. Don’t be noble. You said that when we left the plane we’d both have to fend for ourselves. That’s the way it should be.”

  “That was just to get you started. I never planned to abandon you.”

  And she didn’t want him to, either. But he might have to, for his own good. She wouldn’t drag him down with her. “Look, it’s stupid for both of us to drown or get chewed on by sharks. You go ahead and I’ll either make it…or I won’t.”

  His expression tensed. “Do you imagine for one minute that I’m the kind of guy who would leave you out here?”

  Until now, she’d never thought about what kind of guy he was, and he was surprising her at every turn. “I know you wouldn’t want to, but be realistic.”

  “Are you done in? Is that what you’re saying?”

  “Not completely, but close.”

  “Can you float okay?”

  “Jackson, I want you to—”

  “Can you float?”

  The edge to his voice took her aback. That was twice now he’d shown a tough side she’d never imagined good old Jackson would have. The first time was when he’d demanded to know if she could swim. She was beginning to realize that if she’d said she couldn’t, he’d have tried to land the plane on the top of the island, no matter how impossible it had looked. For whatever the reason, he’d appointed himself her protector.

  “Yes, I can float,” she said.

  “Then get on your back. I’m towing you in.”

  “No. That will take twice as much energy, and I don’t care how often you work out, you’re going to get tired.”

  His expression was like granite. “I’m not leaving you. You can either get on your back and let me tow you in or we can stay here and tread water until you’re too exhausted to move, and then I’ll tow you in, but by then I’ll be more tired, so we’ll both be at greater risk.”

  “You’re not towing me. I’m swimming.” And she set off, although every muscle in her body protested. Damn his noble hide. He was liable to kill himself trying to help her. She couldn’t let him do that.

  Chapter Five

  Jackson swam beside her, painfully aware of her gasping, flailing struggle to make it to shore. But she had grit, and she wasn’t about to let him help her until she couldn’t move another muscle. Thank God they were getting close to the beach and the swell of the incoming waves lifted them toward the water’s edge. They would make it.

  Then, without warning, she sank.

  He dove under the water, eyes open, and saw her gliding slowly down toward a bed of coral, her muscles limp. He got to her right before she reached the coral, which looked sharp as glass. Hooking an arm beneath her breasts, he surged upward, dragging her with him.

  When they broke the surface, they were bot
h sputtering and coughing. He figured as long as she was making noise, she wasn’t going to drown on him, so he started swimming with one arm and pulling her through the water with the other. Stupid, stubborn woman.

  But she’d been right. Swimming this way was hard, much harder than he’d imagined when he’d suggested it a while ago. If she hadn’t pushed herself to go as far as she had, they might have both gone down. As it was he had to call on every ounce of endurance he had to keep swimming.

  His soggy clothes felt like the lead apron his dentist laid over him before she took X rays. Good thing he’d ditched his shoes long ago, and per usual, he’d forgotten socks in the process of getting dressed. That seemed years ago. He stopped to test the bottom with a foot, only to discover it was still over his head.

  The third time he lowered his foot, his toe touched sand. With a choked sob of gratitude, he stood in chest-deep water and cradled Genevieve in his arms. Her eyes were closed, but she was breathing. That was all that mattered right now

  He focused on the beach as he started walking through the water. Breaking surf threatened to knock him over. He clenched his jaw and clutched Genevieve tighter, not about to fall down, not about to lose her.

  “We…made it?”

  At the faint sound of her voice, he looked down and saw that her eyes were open, but she looked dazed and disoriented. “We made it,” he said, his voice hoarse.

  She closed her eyes again. “Thank you…Jack.”

  Jack. He’d never encouraged the nickname because he thought it sounded like the kind of guy who drove fast cars and hung out with glamorous women, the kind of guy who drank whiskey straight up and never let work interfere with pleasure. The kind of guy Jackson wasn’t.

  But he’d just successfully flown a plane, ditched it in the ocean, and managed to get himself and his lovely passenger safely to shore. The nickname Jack didn’t sound quite so inappropriate after all that. If Genevieve wanted to call him Jack, then he’d let her do that.

  “You’re welcome,” he said. About that time he reached the point where the water no longer supported her weight, and he nearly dropped her.