Talk Nerdy to Me (5 page)

"I
doubt that's going to happen," Rick said. "You're one smart woman. If
you're building a hovercraft, then I'll bet good money that it'll work."

Eve
winced and hoped the two guys at the bar hadn't heard that. Maybe she'd better
take steps to contain the information within the circle of people who already
knew. "Tell you what. I only live three blocks away. Why don't we head
over to my place and I'll show you what I have so far?"

"Sounds
good," Rick said. "I rented a Subaru, so we can all ride over in
that. Unless Charlie wants to follow on his bike."

"I'll
ride with you," Charlie said quickly, as if unwilling to be odd man out.

After
Charlie and Eve grabbed their coats, everyone left the tavern. Eve gave Rick
the address as she climbed into the passenger seat. That left Charlie, Manny,
and Kyle crammed into the backseat. Good thing it was only three blocks,
because nobody looked comfy back there.

As
the shortest, Kyle got the middle, and Charlie ended up behind Eve. He helped
the crush of broad shoulders by leaning forward and talking to her through the
little space between the seat and the door panel.

"What kind of
silhouette did you go with?" he asked.

"Round,"
she said. "I wanted it to be multidirectional and aerodynamic."

"I'm picturing a
Frisbee," Rick said.

Charlie
ignored him, leaning closer so he could talk more directly with Eve. "So
I'm assuming you decided on fiberglass?"

"Right."
She twisted her body and talked as best she could through the narrow opening.
"Although the choice was made for me, in a way. I found a flying-saucer
prototype on eBay, and the hull was fiberglass."

From
the driver's seat came a chuckle. "A fiberglass Frisbee," Rick said.
"Catchy. You could call it that."

"With
fiberglass you wouldn't need as much thrusting power to give it forward
momentum," Charlie said.

Eve
nodded. "Fiberglass is great, but I'm still dealing with the safety angle.
Right now it's too fragile to withstand much of an impact. When the engine on
my workbench exploded this afternoon, I was lucky that no pieces hit the
frame."

Rick
braked at a four-way stop. "You exploded something?" He sounded
worried.

"A
little glitch with the biofuel," Eve said. "Listen, Charlie, before
you agree to help me, you might as well hear about the fuel situation. You're
liable to think I'm completely bonkers to consider it."

"I'll
help," Rick said as he pulled through the intersection. "Even before
I hear about the fuel situation. Unless you're running gerbils around in a wire
cage. I'm against that as a fuel source. So's the ASPCA. I—"

"I'm making the fuel
myself," Eve said.

"Excellent."
Charlie's tone conveyed total approval.

Eve had expected doubt and
disbelief. Instead she was getting praise. It was a heady experience. "I
also have a tank of hydrogen that I may end up using, but—"

"Isn't
that what they had in that blimp that exploded a long time ago?" Rick
said. "The photos of that were awesome."

"I
don't want to use hydrogen if I can help it," Eve said. "I'm...
exploring the option of using biomass as a feedstock for ethanol. My idea is to
use the hovercraft as a fun teaching tool, to show people we don't have to
depend on oil as a fuel source."

"Cool." Charlie sounded
excited.

"If
biomass has something to do with the Catholic church, I'm in trouble."
Rick said. "I am so lapsed."

Eve
decided to take her cue from Charlie and ignore Rick's comments. "I'm
using my own kitchen scraps," she said. "Leftover veggies from the
salads I make all the time. I want to make fuel options easily
accessible."

"There
you go," Rick said. "At last, a legitimate use for broccoli
stalks."

Then
it came to her—Rick wasn't used to being left out of a conversation, especially
one that included a woman. Well, too bad. Charlie was the man of the moment,
and she intended to concentrate on him.

"So
what are you doing for a converter?" Charlie asked.

"I designed my
own."

"Wow."
Charlie blew out a breath. "That's amazing. Good for you."

"But
the mixture I'm getting may be too rich for the engine I bought. I have a small
rotary. Or had, past tense. It's destined for the landfill, now."

"I love rotary
engines," Charlie said. "Inspired choice."

"Thank
you." Good thing she was flexible, because she had to twist around to
carry on this conversation properly. She leaned her cheek against the headrest.
"I was so afraid you'd laugh at the whole thing. I've read tons of books
and taken a bunch of online courses, but I don't have an engineering degree
like you, so there may be some structural—"

"We're
here," Rick said. "All out for the incredible hovercraft show."

"I'm sure it's going
to be great," Charlie murmured through the opening, before he unsnapped
his seat belt. "Absolutely great."

"Thanks.
That means a lot to me." As she climbed out of the Subaru, Eve realized
she was very turned on. She hadn't known how much she'd craved this kind of enthusiastic
endorsement. She'd thought that inventing something all by herself had given
her more creative freedom.

Maybe it had, but she'd
also had to battle her doubts alone, and many times she'd wondered if she was
totally crazy. Or maybe she was just plain arrogant to believe that her little
toy had the power to revolutionize the fuel economy.

Yet
in her heart of hearts, she did believe that. For a concept to take hold, it
needed a fun factor. The hovercraft, running on alternative fuel, would be
that fun factor.

Finally
having someone validate her decisions meant the world to her. She liked that
the someone had turned out to be Charlie, who was getting hotter by the minute.
Brains could be so damned sexy.

As
she ushered everyone inside, she thought briefly of her lack of housekeeping
skills and then decided not to worry about it. These were bachelors. Bachelors
weren't neat. Well, maybe Charlie was. She'd turn on only necessary lights as
she took them from the front door through the kitchen to the garage.

"Don't
mind the mess." She said that mostly for Charlie's benefit, in case he was a neat
freak. "The cleaning lady comes tomorrow." That wasn't precisely
true. She hadn't hired a cleaning lady yet because she didn't want someone from
Middlesex gossiping about the fuel converter in her kitchen or the purple
spacecraft in her garage.

On
Mondays she usually shoveled out the worst of the clutter and ran a vacuum
around, but today she'd been too involved with testing her fuel to think of it.
Leading the way through the dark hall to the kitchen, she flipped on a light so
they wouldn't bang against things on their way to the garage.

Whoops.
She'd completely forgotten about her Victoria's Secret underwear. Because her
washing machine was on the fritz, she'd handwashed her bras and panties in the
kitchen sink last night. Then she'd draped them over the kitchen chairs.

Most
models she knew wouldn't have cared a bit if a bunch of guys caught sight of
their underwear drying in the kitchen. But Eve was shy. Always had been and
probably always would be.

She
didn't do lingerie ads for that very reason. Still, she loved fancy undies,
especially in vibrant colors like red, purple, and jade, all of which were
represented in her kitchen right now. And she was blushing. Damn it.

She
paused, trying desperately to think of something clever and sophisticated to
say. Meanwhile all four men stood staring at the colorful and intimate display.
No witty words came to her.

Charlie was the first to
speak. "Oh, wow."

She
gulped. If Charlie, the man she most wanted to impress, made some comment about
her lingerie lying around, she might die of embarrassment.

He
cleared his throat. "I've seen something similar, but never quite like
that."

Rick laughed. "Cuz,
you really need to get out more."

"I'd
like a closer look." Charlie started toward the table.

Yes,
she would definitely die of embarrassment. Charlie wasn't content to gaze on
her underwear from a distance. He wanted to scrutinize it up close, probably
analyze the structural capability of the elastic and underwire.

She
searched for a way to end this excruciating moment. "Hey, let's not
forget about the hovercraft." She forced a smile. "Isn't that what
you guys came to see? Let's go on out to the garage and check it out!"

"In a minute,"
Charlie said. "First I want to examine ..."

"Charlie."
She
couldn't bear this another second.

"...
your converter." He brushed past a purple bra as if he hadn't even seen
it. Then he crouched down beside the large stainless steel contraption she'd
rigged up—thanks to more finds on eBay—to distill her fuel. "This is wild,
Eve. Absolutely wild."

Rick shook his head. "Charlie,
you are such a nerd."

And that, Eve realized, was
why she found Charlie irresistible.

The
discussion with Eve in the car had stimulated every one of Charlie's nerve
endings, including the ones connected to the playground equipment below his
belt. Some guys got excited when a woman talked dirty. Charlie got excited when
a woman talked nerdy.

Discovering
this side of Eve was like opening up the wall of a cute little cottage and
finding it wired to support NASA's flight center. It got him hot.

Now
this underwear display had added jet fuel to the blaze. Surrounded by Eve's
lingerie, he couldn't help but imagine her wearing those jewel like pieces of
silk and lace, and his brain was on tilt. Or maybe it was the blood draining
south that made him so fuzzy that all he could think about was hot, sweaty sex.
With Eve.

He
hadn't come over to her house so he could imagine having sex with her. Why had
he come? Oh, yeah. The hovercraft. Just in time, he'd remembered. The fog had
cleared from his brain long enough for him to notice something besides the
touchable silk all around him. In the comer stood her converter. The converter
had become his life preserver in a sea of sexual currents.

"Reminds
me of a smaller version of what I've seen in a microbrewery," Rick said.

"That's
actually where I got the idea," Eve said. "But don't try to drink
anything that comes out of there. It'll corrode your insides."

Charlie
studied the dials on the converter. They were fascinating, but not as
fascinating as the purple bra dangling six inches from his face. The tag was
right there, available for him to read her specs. He should ignore it. Nothing
good could come from reading that tag.

But he was an engineer, and
engineers focused on measurements. She wore a 36B underwire. Despite claiming
not to care about the size of a woman's breasts, he'd always been partial to
the elegant proportions of a 36B.

The converter. He needed to
say something about it. "You could patent this, to go along with the
hovercraft. They could come as a package." And speaking of packages, his
was growing exponentially as he contemplated the structural wonder of that
underwire gently lifting Eve's breasts, thereby producing nuzzle-worthy cleavage.

"I'd
like that," Eve said. "In fact, that would be part of my ultimate
goal, so that people would see how easy alternative fuel could be. And I'd
really
hate to see anyone using petrochemicals to operate something
that's just for fun."

"You mean gas?"
Rick said.

"She
means gas." Charlie remembered having to coach Rick through chemistry, and
even at that he'd only pulled a D. Rick wasn't dumb, but no one would ever
accuse him of being a scholar.

"I
get it," Rick said. "A green toy to promote green living. I can see
it catching on in Southern California, no problem."

Manny
shifted his weight impatiently. "Is the garage through that door?"

"Yes,"
Eve said, "but I'd rather wait until we're all ready to—"