Talk Nerdy to Me (3 page)

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.

Lifting the rack, she
glanced at him. "Got a quarter?"

"Yeah,
but there's no jukebox here. Archie decided that—"

"We need a quarter to
toss so we can see who breaks."

"Oh."
He was losing it fast. He'd been worried that she'd been affected by the
explosion, but obviously she was functioning just fine. He was the one acting
as if he'd taken a blow to the head. At this rate he'd be lucky to remember
which end of the cue stick to use.

"Yeah,
I have a quarter," he said. Digging in his pocket, he produced one and
held it over the table as he bounced it in his palm. With the way his reflexes
felt, he didn't trust himself to catch it, so he'd let it land on the table.
"Your call."

"Tails."

The
quarter dropped tail side up on the green felt. "Tails. Your break."

"Okey-doke."
She leaned his stick carefully against the cue rack and pulled out a house cue
for the break.

Could
this woman be any more perfect? On top of her X-rated mouth, intelligent eyes,
and sexy fingers, she understood that you didn't use a custom cue for the
break. He had to hope that she wasn't interested in him, because if she had
even a smidgen of attraction going on, his plan to move to Nevada was in
serious jeopardy.

As
she lined up for the break, he stood at the opposite end of the table staring
like a love-struck fool. She handled that stick like a pro, but it was the wiggle
in her butt as she concentrated on the cue ball that made his equipment
twitch. The break came fast and furious, scattering balls to every corner of
the table and dropping two solids.

"Nice
break," he said. He would call it a spectacular break, but she might think
he was patronizing her.

"Thanks."
She retrieved his cue, adjusted her glasses, and lined up for another shot.

It was a fairly easy one,
so he wasn't too worried when she made it. But when she executed a complicated
combination, he began to wonder if he'd fall without firing a shot. She could
run the table.

If
he'd thought he'd beat her and get the answer to his explosion question, he had
another think coming. He was more likely to get his ass whipped. Reaching for
his beer, he took a couple of fortifying swallows. In the process he happened
to glance over at the bar and noticed Archie leaning on it watching with a big
smile on his face.

Suddenly
Charlie had a horrible thought. Archie was old enough to be Eve's father, but
he'd never let little details like that stop him. As much as Charlie loved
Archie, he didn't love the idea of Archie putting the moves on Eve. Charlie had
seen her first, dammit. But Charlie was going to Nevada. Wasn't he?

He
became so absorbed in thinking about leaving town right when he'd discovered
the perfect woman that he didn't notice that Eve had stopped shooting. And
wonder of wonders, she still had one ball on the table. It wasn't all over.

"Your turn," she
said, walking over to retrieve her beer.

Brushing
away the unwelcome thought that she might have missed on purpose to make him
feel better, he put down his beer and evaluated the situation to see if he
could still save himself. He might have a chance if he planned his shots
carefully and didn't look at her while she sipped from that Sam Adams bottle.

Her
mouth should come with a warning label. One glance and several suggestive
thoughts popped into his head. Worse yet, those knowing eyes of hers seemed to
be reading his mind. No doubt she could easily spot the lust in his expression
after years of having men drool over her.

But
because he was interested in her brain, not to mention her ability to play
pool, he liked to think his interest was different, more intellectual, more
discerning. Yeah, right. That's why he was gazing at her mouth and dreaming
about blow jobs. He was the soul of subtle.