Talk Nerdy to Me (46 page)

"So what? Pretty soon
I'll be even richer, so I can buy everything new. Didn't you hear the news? In
no time, I'll have it all."

"Eve.
. ." His voice was pleading as he followed her through the kitchen.

"Don't
get me wrong." She kicked the cushions into line and crouched down to tuck
the sheet around them. "I'm grateful for everything you're doing. I'll be
happy to give you a percentage. I should have mentioned that earlier. What's
fair? Fifty percent?"

"I don't want
anything."

She
laid both blankets on top of the makeshift bed and placed the pillow at the
head of it. "I know." She stood, gazing at him, her heart breaking.
He wanted nothing from her and she wanted everything from him. "Sleep
tight." She walked out of the garage, closing the door after her.

Charlie
didn't sleep
great, but he slept. Throughout the night
he
kept
waking
up.
First
he'd wonder where
he
was. Then he'd
remember
and start dealing with the problems inherent in
the
sofa
cushions. The total length
of
them
turned out to
be
about ten and a half inches
shorter than he was, plus they kept separating whenever he moved. He was also
concerned about how dirty they were getting lying on the garage floor.

Once
he'd worried about the sofa cushions for a while, he'd lie awake thinking about
the chance of an intruder trying to
get
into
the garage. They'd have some trouble, because
he'd
decided to bring his bike inside and park it
next
to
the door. If the bike
fell
over, then Charlie would know he
had
trouble. In case that trouble arrived, he'd laid a twelve-inch
crescent wrench on the floor within reach.

After
he'd thought about the odds of someone trying to come through that door, he'd
get around to thinking about
the
most
troubling subject of
all
—Eve.
He
'd remember how sad she'd looked standing
there
beside the bed
she
'd
made for him. He'd relive the time they'd spent together— the pool-playing, the
hovercraft work, the sex, especially the sex.

Then
he'd try to talk himself into staying in Middlesex for the rest of his life so
he could be with Eve. When that didn't feel like the right solution, he'd
rehearse speeches in which he asked her to come with him to Vegas. Then he'd
give up on that option as unworkable, punch the pillow a few times, a pillow
that smelled like her perfume, and finally go back to sleep.

When
his bike fell over with an ungodly crash, he leaped to his feet. A faint strip
of light showed under the garage door, but that could be headlights. He had no
idea what time it was. Heart pounding, he grabbed the wrench and prepared to
defend the hovercraft.

Denise
poked her head out the door and a shaft of light poured through the opening.
She looked at the fallen bike. "What the hell is going on?"

"I
decided to stay here through the night. What are you doing up?"
Planning to
sabotage the hovercraft?

"It's morning,
hotshot. Eight already."

Charlie
glanced at his watch. So it was. If she was planning a sabotage move, she was
getting a really late start on it. "Is Eve still asleep?"

"Yeah,
she's out cold, so I decided to make some coffee. Then I heard somebody
snoring out here, so I thought I'd better investigate."

"I
don't snore." No doubt she was making this up as she went along, to
justify her coming out to the garage to do ... something.

"How would you know?
You're asleep when it happens."

She had him there. He
didn't know if he snored or not.

Denise
glanced at the bike. "That's not a very smart place to park it, you
know."

"I meant to park it
there."

She met his gaze. "I
see. So that you'd know if anybody tried to get in the garage."
"Could be."
And you did.

"Hey,
what's happening?" Eve's voice drifted from inside the kitchen. "Is
Charlie okay?"

"Charlie's
fine." Denise continued to hold Charlie's gaze, as if looking away would
signal a weakness. "I just tripped his booby trap by knocking over his
bike, which he'd parked in front of the door."

"Oh."
Eve's voice drew nearer. "Why did you open the door?"

Aha.
Charlie
was delighted that she'd asked.

"I
heard him snoring. It startled me. I didn't know he was out there."

"I'm sorry, Denise. I
should have left you a note."

"I
don't snore," Charlie said again. All he needed was backup on that issue
and Denise's excuse for opening the door would be destroyed.

Eve's
face appeared over Denise's shoulder.
"Umm,
yes
you do."

Shit.

Denise gave him a superior
smile. "Coffee?"

"Sure,
thanks." So Denise had won that round, but Charlie wasn't going to relax
his guard. She was a smart cookie, but so was he. Besides that, he was spoiling
for a fight.

Sleep
had renewed Eve's optimism about life. She supposed a little jealousy was a
natural thing, and she decided not to let it bother her so much. It helped
that Denise was in a cheerful mood. Her sister offered to go shopping and be in
charge of food during the day so that Eve and Charlie could concentrate on the
hovercraft.

Eve
suspected the offer to shop was tied in with a desire to visit the bakery and
see Manny again. When Denise
came home with more Cock
Rings and Booby Buns along with eggs, bacon, and lunch meat, Eve's suspicion
was confirmed. The trip put Denise in an even better mood.

In
contrast, Charlie looked like a thundercloud. He'd made one brief trip home to
shower and shave, and she'd hoped that would improve his disposition. It
hadn't. On the way back he'd picked up some rubber tubing to use for the
hovercraft's bumper, but when she thanked him, he replied in a curt
monosyllable. Then he went back to tinkering with the rotary engine and
swearing under his breath.

She
was tempted to send him home and forget having him help on the hovercraft. As
for the phone calls he planned to make, she could do that if he'd give her the
info. But she definitely needed him tonight in order to try and catch the
saboteur. Or maybe not.

Maybe she could rig up some
sort of physical trap that would detain anyone who came through the garage
door. Creating such a thing would take time away from the hovercraft, but it
would mean she wouldn't have to depend on Charlie, who was currently a royal
pain in the butt.

At
last she confronted him. "It's obvious you don't want to be doing
this," she said. "So if you'll give me the names and numbers of the
people you were going to contact in New York, I'll take it from here."

He
pulled off his goggles and stared at her, his jaw tight. "I don't think
you can accomplish everything all by yourself."

That hurt. "So now
you're doubting me, too? Well, I most certainly can do it by myself! In fact,
that's exactly what I will do, and show you all!"

He
looked as if she'd slapped him. "That isn't what I meant."

She
stood there, quivering. "Then what did you mean?" "I meant that
you're under a tight deadline to finish this project, you have somebody trying
to sabotage you, and now you're trying to lay a trap for them. That's a hell of
a lot to expect of one person, any person. If anyone could pull it off, you
could, but... I want to help."

"You do? You aren't
acting like it."

He
groaned. "I know, damn it! But I can't get the engine to run the way it
should, and I can't figure out who the devil is after you. But the worst thing
is that every time I look at you I want to rip off your clothes, and yet I know
sex isn't going to solve any of our problems and will probably create
more." He sighed in obvious frustration. "I'm not reacting well to
all that, and I'm sorry."

"You
really want to rip my clothes off every time you look at me?" That perked
her up considerably.

"Every
time. I picture that sexy underwear and go nuts. But then I have to stop
myself. We have work to do, and your sister's here, and . . . well, we have
some problems that aren't exactly worked out."

She
smiled. "So you get grouchy when you don't have regular sex?"

"I
didn't think so." He looked sheepish. "But it looks that way, doesn't
it? At least when it comes to you."

"Then
I guess
I
can
take your grouchiness as a compliment"

"I'll try to be more
pleasant, I promise."

"Don't
worry about it." Her heart felt considerably lighter now that she knew the
primary source of his dark mood. She put on her goggles. "Let's get to
work. We have lots to do."

Late
in the afternoon Charlie decided he would never get the engine to run as
smoothly as he wanted it to. Perfection wasn't achievable, much as he wanted
that. So he and Eve mounted the engine in the hovercraft. By the time they
wound the rubber tubing around the chassis and got that attached, they were out
of time.

Both
parties would start in thirty minutes. Denise was already dressed and waiting
in the living room.

Because
Charlie wasn't sure if Denise would make a sudden appearance in the garage, he
kept his voice low. "Let's double-check the plan. If any of our suspects
are gone from either party for more than ten minutes, we speed-dial each other,
but we also head immediately for the house."

"Right.
And make sure your cell is on vibrate. The parties will be loud."

Charlie had a moment of
anxiety. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. It could put her in danger.
"Eve, promise me something. If you get there ahead of me, wait for
me."

"Only if you promise
the same thing."

"I
don't have to promise." He wondered if this was an oversight on his part.
"I don't have a key to get in."

"And I don't have a
spare."

"Of
course not." He laughed softly. "You gave them all away. There are
probably keys to your house for sale on eBay."

"Very funny."

"Yeah,
I'm a regular David Letterman. Listen, please be careful. Don't go charging
into the garage if someone's there. I should arrive ahead of you, but in case
I don't, just wait."

"Okay."
She looked up at him. "How about a kiss for luck?"

"We
can spare about one minute. Can we keep it to that?"

"I
doubt it." She wound her arms around his neck. "Kiss me anyway."

He didn't need to be asked
again. He'd been aching to kiss her for hours. His lips meeting hers felt like
homecoming, like the first right thing he'd done all day. He'd never been sure
what his place in life was supposed to be, but holding her seemed to be part of
the puzzle.

She
tasted so damned good. He knew the minute was up, but she'd pressed her body
close to his and opened her mouth to let him explore with his tongue. He could
do that all night. She had the most—

"Do
you think you could wrap it up? We're going to be late. I don't like being
late."

Charlie
opened one eye, and Denise was leaning in the doorway to the kitchen. She wore
another one of Eve's slinky sweaters, silver this time, and she'd borrowed a
few pieces of jewelry to go with it. He thought it was a good sign that Eve
hadn't immediately leaped away from him the minute she'd heard her sister's
voice.