Talk Nerdy to Me (17 page)

"You mean like a
pilot's license?"

"Like
a pilot's license." He took a swig of his Coke as he evaluated the shape
of the rudder again. It should work, but this entire vehicle was experimental,
so there were no guarantees.

"No
pilot's license. And I don't know what you're getting at. A pilot's license
wouldn't do me any good if I get picked up flying a hovercraft that's not legal
in the first place."

"I'm
talking about the flying experience, not the license itself. A person who's
flown light aircraft would have a better feel for how to navigate in the
hovercraft."

She
frowned, looking uncertain for the first time. "You could be right. I
hadn't considered that. Maybe I can get one of those software flight programs
and brush up on it."

"There's
nothing like actual hands-on experience." His groin tightened as he
inevitably thought about another kind of hands-on experience that he longed to
have.

"I
don't have time to take actual lessons. Plus I doubt if winter is the best time
to start."

"I have a license."

"You do?" She sounded completely
astonished.

Although
it was stupid, he let that irritate him. "I'm no Tom Cruise-type top gun,
but I can fly a Cessna without crashing into things."

"Don't
get defensive on me, Charlie. Most people can't fly a plane, so naturally I'm
surprised to hear that you can. Lyle is the only other person I've known personally
who has his license."

Lyle.
Instinct
told him this was an important name for him to know. He shouldn't care about
guys in her past, but he couldn't help it. So although he was itching for information,
he kept his tone casual. "Did you go up with him? Even that would be
helpful."

She
set her Coke can on the workbench and hunkered down next to the hovercraft.
"No, but I've been in small planes before. I've had to take them plenty of
times to photo shoots in out-of-the-way places. I usually sat in the back, but
I paid attention." She beamed at him. "I'll bet I would know exactly
what to do with the hovercraft, so no worries."

"You
need me to go with you." He couldn't think how to get back to the subject
of Lyle, so he let it drop for now.

"No."
She met his gaze. "If something happened to you, I'd never forgive
myself."

"If
something happened to you because you went alone, I'd never forgive myself,
either."

Determination
firmed her jaw. 'This isn't up for discussion. I appreciate any help you can
give me in the garage, but nobody goes in this hovercraft the first time except
me."

He'd
never been so attracted to anyone in his life as he was to Eve as she crouched
there in her overalls and bulky sweater, her glasses sliding down her nose and
the gleam of purpose bright in her blue eyes. "We'll talk about it
later," he said.

"No,
let's talk about it now." She stood and started to pace. "Let me
explain this so you'll understand."

He
stood too and watched her walking the length of the garage. Strands of her
lustrous brown hair were coming loose, and she tucked them behind her ears as
she moved. She held herself with such grace, which made sense considering that
she was a runway model. Here in this garage he tended to forget that.

"The
thing is, I want to live in Middlesex forever, and I realize this ..." She
paused and gestured toward the hovercraft in a move worthy of Vanna White.
"This is on the eccentric side."

"Not
compared to alien abductions." He also thought of his mother's X-rated
bakery items. Middlesex wasn't quite as boring as it used to be, not that he'd
changed his mind about staying.

"I
don't think the hovercraft itself will get me kicked out of town, but killing
or maiming a favorite son would definitely make me a pariah."

"I
don't know about that favorite son part." He loved watching her move. She
made those baggy overalls look like high fashion.

"Oh,
you're a favorite son, all right. Now I realize it was you that your mom talked
about when I was buying cinnamon rolls at the bakery."

"Of course I'm her
favorite son. I'm her only son."

"Another
customer was in there, and she chimed right in about your valedictorian speech
and your SAT scores. And there was the
time you repaired the furnace in the gym. You are quite a legend at Middlesex
High."

Charlie
could feel a blush coming on. "That's embarrassing. I'll have to talk to
my mom. I don't want her carrying on about stuff like that to anyone who walks
in."

"Give her
a
break. She's
a
mom."

"She's
making me sound like some kind of hero around here, and I'm definitely not
that."

"Say
what you will, but there's no doubt in my mind that if I let anything happen to
you, I'd be run out of town. And I really like it here."

He
blew out a breath. "That's something else I still don't get. I mean,
plastic reindeer? What's that all about?"

"It's
more than the plastic reindeer. You have Little League fields and a pumpkin
patch in October. There's a parade every Fourth of July. I saw the pictures of
last year's."

"New York has parades
almost every day of the week!"

"Yes,
but hardly any have little kids pulling wagons decorated with red, white, and
blue crepe paper with their dog riding inside."

"Oh."
Charlie had pulled a wagon exactly like that down Main Street when he was
seven. His mother still had the wagon, but Charlie no longer had a dog. Owning
a dog would have made moving more complicated. He'd lived his life in limbo for
years.

"I
want to be part of a community like this," Eve continued. "I know
I'm not completely accepted yet, but I will be if I stay long enough. I'll
blend in more and more, especially after my kids start going to Middlesex Elementary,
and I become a Brownie leader or a den mother. I could coach soccer. I'm not
too bad at soccer."

He
listened in dazed wonder. "You're a highly successful model, and you want
to be a
den mother!"
He
didn't mention that she'd skipped over a critical step, finding a father for
those potential children of hers.

"Yeah,"
she said softly. "Yeah, I do. I grew up on Beacon Hill in Boston in a
world of nannies and boarding schools. My parents still live in the same
elegant house, still worship affluence and prestige. They adored Lyle."

Charlie
adjusted the fit of his glasses, as if that would help him absorb all the
information she was throwing at him. This was the first time she'd mentioned
wanting kids, and there was that name again, one that made him want to snort
and paw the ground. "Does ... Lyle figure into all this somehow?"

"See,
that was the problem. Lyle's exactly like my father. He was very clear that he
never wanted a lawn to mow or a basketball hoop to install over the garage. The
thing he liked about boarding school was that he'd never have to attend a PTA
meeting in the cafeteria and sit on those molded plastic chairs."

"Why
is Lyle in the past tense?" Charlie knew he was still in trouble because
Lyle in the past tense made him happy.

"Because the life he
wanted gave me the heebie-jeebies."

"Heebie-jeebies
are bad." And Lyle had given them to her. Charlie smiled.

"Heebie-jeebies
make you break the lease on your New York apartment and go house-hunting in
Connecticut. But my family had a fit. I'd rejected a proposal from a Wall Street
phenom. Denise would have given her tenured position for him. But he wasn't
what I wanted."

"I'm
not, either." Charlie said it without thinking. "That sounded
egotistical as hell. What I mean is—"

"I
know what you mean. You're hoping I understand that you don't want the life I
just described any more than I wanted Lyle's version."

Charlie
didn't think her description sounded all that bad for some time in the far
distant future. Very distant, both in time and miles from Middlesex. "It's
just that I'm up to here with cardboard turkeys and pumpkin patches. I need a
break from plastic reindeer."

She
nodded. "And I'm up to here with taxicabs and skyscrapers. I lived the
urban lifestyle because it was what I knew and it made sense for my modeling
career. It didn't feel particularly good, but it did feel familiar."

"Exactly.
That's exactly what I'm saying. Not good, but familiar." He gazed at her
in complete understanding. Different needs, same sentiments. "So Lyle
proposed and you ran away to Middlesex?"

"Pretty
much. At first I thought maybe I was running from the idea of commitment, but
that wasn't it." She paused again, her expression soft. "A little
while ago you asked me what I'd expect to get out of a relationship with you. I
know now."

He swallowed. "And
what is that?"

"Much more than you're
willing to give."

It
broke Eve's heart to admit that Charlie was everything she
wanted in a man, because he was out of reach and she didn't know if another guy
would ever come along who was as perfect for her. Looking into his eyes, she
could see the battle going on inside that superior brain. He obviously didn't
like disappointing people.

Besides, he wouldn't mind scratching her itch. Kissing him
had convinced her that they had chemistry going on. They could have a grand old
time rolling across her round bed. She'd bet he was putting some thought into
that option and wishing he didn't have to give it up for the cause.

"Poor
Charlie." She walked over to the hovercraft. "I didn't mean to mess
with your head."

His smile was self-mocking. "That's not the only part
of me that you're messing with, but it's not your fault."

"Or yours. Would you rather not help me with the
hovercraft?"

"No, I want to help you." He took a deep breath.
"The timing sucks, doesn't it?"

"Uh-huh."
And the longer he stood there looking hot
and gorgeous, the more she
wanted him in her bed and in her life. Maybe she should make the decision to do
without his help instead of leaving it up to him

"You
probably think I should get over myself. I mean, what kind of fool would stand
here looking at someone like you and rave on about his precious freedom?"

She
shrugged, trying not to feel rejected. It wasn't her he was rejecting, just the
concept of being tied down. Still, it stung.

"Eve." He started
toward her.

She
held up a hand to stop him. Then she shoved her hands in the back pockets of
her overalls and faced him. "Look, I want you to help me with this
project. You're the only person I know who I would trust to help me. We're both
reasonable adults. We should be able to work on this hovercraft without
grabbing each other's ass, don't you think?"

His
surprised bark of laughter echoed against the walls of the garage. "I'll
give it the old college try."

"I
never went to college, so I'll have to give it the old boarding school
try." She hesitated, debating whether to reveal her lack of scholarly
training. Oh, what the hell? "I flunked out my junior year of high school.
Just so you know."

"Lots of genius types
didn't finish high school."

"Whoa!
I am
not
a genius!" She backed
up, both hands raised in protest. "Don't go pinning that label on me."
The whole concept made her tummy churn.

"Ever been
tested?"

"I don't know. Maybe.
Nobody ever told me the results, and I sure didn't ask. I was lousy at school.
If anybody in this garage is a genius, you are. Your mother thinks so."

"Like
you said, she's a mom. I did well in school because I liked it and I'm... I
guess I'm disciplined,
although my behavior tonight doesn't show that."

"See?"
She didn't want to think about his behavior tonight, because his most
excellent kissing skills would get her into ass-grabbing territory. "You
don't want to be a genius, either."