The Nerd Who Loved Me

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  He'd have to make like a mountain goat in order to get back to his car before the rain hit. His black Italian loafers were covered with red dust, and if he didn't hurry they'd be covered with red mud, too, damn it.

  The things he did for Rona. Slipping and sliding his way down the loose shale, he almost fell twice. His silk shirt was spotted with rain and his shoes were a disas­ter by the time he reached the parking lot of Crimson Canyons and ducked inside his Jag.

  First thing he did was reach for his cell phone and punch the speed-dial button for Rona.

  She answered immediately. "What's up?"

  Hearing her voice made him long to wrap his arms around her and nuzzle that long, elegant neck of hers. "I just ruined a pair of five-hundred-dollar shoes, I'll have you know."

  "Never mind your shoes. What's happening down there?"

  Leo relaxed against the soft leather seat and realized his back ached. First the long drive and then a hike, for chrissake. He was old and tired of playing these games, but this was too sensitive a matter to turn over to his boys. "You'll be happy to know that I see encouraging signs."

  "Such as?"

  Leo had decided not to tell her about the six-foot rat­tlesnake. Some things a mother didn't need to hear, es­pecially when she knew Harry was terrified of snakes. "After lunch, they went back inside with their arms around each other. And they were moving out pretty good, too. I sensed eagerness there. Definitely eager­ness."

  "I love it! This is wonderful, just wonderful." "Tell that to my shoes."

  "It's your own fault. Everyone else I know has at least one pair of jogging shoes, but not you. You insist on these imported leather jobs that cost a fortune and are no good for anything."

  "I don't jog." He felt crabby and he missed Rona. "I don't even want someone to think I might jog. I'm not interested in the whole jogging mentality."

  "Then stop complaining because you ruined your shoes."

  "I didn't know I'd have to climb up some godforsaken trail to get a good view of the proceedings." And he was lucky he hadn't run into any snakes, himself. The one Crocodile Dundee had taken out of Harry and Lainie's patio was enough to make him decide to do future sur­veillance from the parking lot or the golf course ... in a cart, thank you very much.

  "What's that noise I hear in the background?"

  "It's raining on my car." Leo nudged off his muddy shoes and winced at the mess they'd made on his carpet. "I'm gonna have to have the Jag completely detailed af­ter this."

  "You have the Jag completely detailed every week.

  Listen, any sign of other people creeping around the area?"

  "Not so far. I just hope your son follows my instruc­tions and keeps her inside during their stay." Leo flexed his toes and thought about how nice a hot tub would be about now, especially if he could be in it with Rona.

  "I don't know if I ever mentioned that those are ex­cellent instructions, for a number of reasons," she said.

  "Yeah, and I know your reasons, you matchmaker, you. So far, so good. He ordered room service, which was the right move. I wish they hadn't decided to eat outside, but then, he's not trained in this kind of thing, so we have to make excuses for him."

  Rona laughed. "And if they hadn't eaten outside, you wouldn't have anything to report."

  "I know, but I'd like it better if they stayed tucked in there until we find out what else this joker has in mind." Leo listened to the rain beat down on the roof of the car and wished he'd brought an umbrella.

  "I'd like it if they stayed tucked in there, too, espe­cially if they're getting chummy."

  "Rona, you can't pick out your son's wife. He has to do that."

  "That's all well and good, but he's dragging his heels." She lowered her voice. "You should see the TITS making over this kid, Leo. And he's so smart. I'd like to see one of their grandkids beat the pants off everybody at Texas Hold 'Em."

  Leo groaned. "Don't let yourself get attached," he said. But he knew it was already too late. Rona had lost her heart and there was no getting it back.

  "I won't, but think of it. I was feeling sort of behind everybody else, but this little boy would catch me up right away!"

  Leo shut his eyes. He wanted Rona to be happy. He'd dedicated a good part of his life to that endeavor. But he felt helpless to satisfy her passion to have a grandchild. "Tell you what," he said. "When this is all over, we'll take a trip to Tahiti. How about that?"

  "Only if we can take a certain four-year-old."

  Leo groaned again. "Rona—"

  "Just kidding. So what do you think of Crimson Canyons? Should we buy a time-share down there?"

  Shit, he should have warned her not to identify the place. "Rona, you can't count on cell phones to be se­cure."

  "Whoops. Sorry. I should have thought of that. Well, I doubt anybody's listening, anyway. That ex of hers isn't very smart. Anyway, I've gotta go. Suzanne just brought over her video of SpongeBob SquarePants, so we're go­ing to take a break and watch it. Bye, Leo. And thanks."

  "You're welcome." Leo disconnected the phone. He hadn't bothered to ask who SpongeBob SquarePants was. There were some things he really didn't want to understand.

  But he had to agree with Rona on Joey's lack of intelli­gence. In fact, he was counting on it. Unfortunately, Joey might have hired somebody smarter than he was. Leo stared at the cell phone. He should have warned Rona, but he'd forgotten. He really was getting too old for this.

  Harry wasn't sure what had inspired him to make up a story about wanting to get Lainie pregnant, but now that he had, he couldn't get the idea out of his head. And the instrument which could actually accomplish that feat was primed and ready for the task. Too bad he'd manufactured the whole concept.

  Even so, they would have sex, and soon. They lost no time getting through the sliding glass door, although this time they didn't end up falling to their knees. Once they'd closed and locked the door, they both started for the bed­room, flinging off clothes as they went.

  As thunder rumbled outside and rain pattered against the windows, Harry made a dash for the bathroom to snag the black case with the condoms in it. In spite of his ridiculous urge to make the story he'd told Dudley one hundred percent true, he wouldn't follow through on that urge. He didn't even want to marry Lainie, let alone get her pregnant with his kid.

  So why was he thinking how much fun that would be as they ripped back the covers and tumbled onto the mattress? Vaguely he realized it was a lumpy mattress, but he didn't care. He was too busy thinking how won­derful it would be if he could make a baby with Lainie. Yet making babies had been something he'd studiously avoided ever since he'd lost his virginity.

  "Hurry," she said, rolling to her back. "I feel like I'm ready to come just thinking about having sex with you."

  He grabbed a condom and ripped open the package. "I know what you mean." And putting this latex barrier on seemed like one step too many. He'd never had that thought before he was about to have sex. Not ever.

  "That is one impressive piece of equipment you have there." She stared at his penis, her chest heaving. "If I had to go five years without sex, at least I'm getting my just reward."

  "I'm feeling pretty rewarded myself. Now come here, you." He leaned down and kissed her as he shoved deep, blotting out all thoughts of the last time she'd had sex, because it had been with that creep Joey. And Joey hadn't used a condom.

  "How's that?" he murmured against her mouth.

  "Outstanding," she whispered, lifting her hips and wig­gling against him. "I hope we're going to do this all day, because I feel like I could."

  "Me, too." He locked himself in a little tighter and concentrated on not coming. But the rain slapping against the window pulled at him, coaxing him to pour himself into her.

  He held still and gazed down at her. "Don't move for a minute, okay? I'm going to hang out right here and try to exercise a little control. I want this to last a while."

  "Good idea." Her breath came in tiny gasps. "Let's do .
.. a little savoring. I could ... I could go for that."

  "Close?"

  "Very."

  "And I can guarantee if you come, we both come." Talking helped put his mind back in charge. "I can't hold up under those spasms, not to mention the power of sug­gestion, knowing you're having a climax."

  "You can feel it when I come?" Her breathing was steadier, as if she'd pulled herself back a little, too.

  "Oh, yeah."

  "I always wondered about that."

  "But were afraid to ask?" He loved the view from here. He could watch her eyes dilate if he moved even a frac­tion of an inch. She looked good in the red wig, which had managed to stay put through all their gyrations. He had the novelty of getting it on with a redhead this after­noon, when this morning she'd been a brunette.

  But there was no mistaking the perfect fit he remem­bered as he slid inside her. Then there was the sense of completion he'd had the first time and felt all over again now, as if they'd been carved from the same block of wood a long time ago and were now finally reunited.

  "Can you feel this?" she asked.

  He moaned as she contracted her pelvic muscles, massaging his already aching penis. "Uh-huh. You could finish me off with a couple more of those."

  "It's Kegels."

  "Say what?"

  "Kegel exercises. To keep me tight and fit." "You get any more fit and I'll have the staying power of a rabbit."

  She smiled. "What do you know about rabbit or­gasms?"

  "Nothing, but they do everything else quick, so it's logical." And after this conversational break, he thought he might be able to thrust without losing it, so he tried that.

  "Mm." Her arms tightened around him. "That was a happy sound."

  Her breathing quickened again. "That's because ... you're delivering a whole bunch ... of happy."

  "That's my intention." And he must have gotten a second wind, stamina-wise, because suddenly he felt like he could keep up this rhythm forever. "Now do the swivel," he murmured.

  She gulped for air. "You liked that?"

  "I loved that."

  "Think you can take it?" "Bring it on." "Ooo ... kay."

  Did she ever. He'd thought he had his buddy under control, but once she lifted her hips and began that bump-and-grind routine, he had zero control. Soon he was bel­lowing and plunging into her with the same frenzy as he had this morning. They made the mattress bounce and squeak like a trampoline.

  He felt the tug of her orgasm right before he shot into the stratosphere. Kapowee. Shazam. Bliss. Ah, Lainie. Lainie, Lainie, Lainie.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Joey drove back to his hotel, dumped the flowers in the nearest trash bin, and headed for the bar. So much for staying sober and buying flowers. The bitch hadn't even let him in the door. Sliding onto a stool at the bar, he or­dered a gin and tonic.

  What he needed was a plan, and he could think better with a drink in his hand. Unfortunately, he wasn't any closer to a solution as he neared the end of his second G and T. Getting to the kid, which he'd thought would be easy, had turned into a major deal. He'd blown it the first night and now the kid seemed to be guarded better than his dad's compound in Upstate New York.

  His cell phone rang as he was in the midst of order­ing his third drink. He fumbled a little pulling it out of the holster attached to his belt and nearly dropped it. Stupid things were too small. He'd always thought so, but if they were any bigger they'd be a pain to haul around. Finally he got it up to his ear.

  "I just picked up a cell phone communication between

  Rona Ambrewster and a guy named Leo. I'm virtually positive that Lainie Terrell and Harry Ambrewster are at a time-share resort called Crimson Canyons. I looked it up on the Internet and it's in Sedona. Want me to check it out?"

  Joey thought of the money that little jaunt would cost and heard the ka-ching of a cash register in his head. Be­sides, it wouldn't do any good for the PI to go there. Joey was the one who had to talk to Lainie.

  "How far is it to Sedona, anyway?" he asked the PI.

  "About five hours or less. I have the make of the car she left in, and the plate number. Wouldn't take long to give you a definite on their location."

  "Why don't you give me the description and plate number, instead?"

  "I could, but look, Joey, you're not trained for this. And I'm not sure who this Leo character is, but he's got guys out there, too."

  "Tell me about it," Joey muttered.

  "I'm only saying you could run into some problems. You'd be better off letting me—"

  "I'm smarter than I look," Joey said, taking a swig of his third drink. "Give me the info."

  "Okay. Your call." The PI rattled off the information.

  "Hold on, hold on. I wasn't ready. Let me get some­thing to write with." He grabbed a waitress as she went sailing by. "Let me have your pen."

  She handed him the ballpoint pen clipped to her or­der pad and stood tapping her fingernail against her tray while he slid his napkin out from under his glass.

  "Okay, give it to me again," Joey said. The napkin tore twice as he tried to write on it, but eventually, after the PI had repeated the license number three times, he had it. Once the napkin dried he could tuck it into his pocket and he'd be all set.

  "I really think you need to let me handle this," the PI said again.

  "I have it under control. Thanks." Joey disconnected the phone and started to tack the pen in his shirt pocket.

  "I need my pen back," said the waitress.

  Joey glanced up at her. Not bad. A good figure, and a blonde, to boot. Ever since having to deal with Lainie, he'd sworn off brunettes. He gave her his killer smile as he handed back the pen. "Sorry about that. How rude of me."

  "It's okay." She gave him the once-over.

  That was all the encouragement he needed. He had a good package and it had fallen into disuse recently. He didn't like to go more than a couple of weeks without some horizontal aerobics. "I'd like to make it up to you," he said softly. "For being so rude."

  "It wasn't that rude. It's only a pen."

  "Yes, but it was your pen. Let me do something nice for you."

  "Like what?"

  He figured if she was still standing here talking to him, he was in like Flynn, but he decided to sweeten the deal. "The thing is, I'm about to come into some money, a lot of money, and I don't have anyone to celebrate with. When do you get off work?"

  She glanced at her watch. "In about thirty minutes. Was that what your call was about?"

  "Yeah. Later on I have to go to Sedona to make some arrangements, but I'd love to have a little going-away party before I leave."

  "Are you staying here?"

  "Uh-huh. Right upstairs. How does a bottle of Dom Perignon and a bowl of chocolate-covered strawberries sound?"

  She gave him a sly smile. "Like a going-away party?"

  "That's right. Just you and me. Let me have your pen again." He took it from her outstretched hand, turned her palm up, and started to write his room number on it. Women loved that.

  Except he had to take a minute to remember what his room number was. Then he discovered her hand was damp and the pen wouldn't write on such a wet surface. He hoped she wasn't the type to have sweaty palms dur­ing sex. He hated that.

  "Just tell me," she said after he'd made several tries and only managed to smear ink on her.

  So he just said the number, straight out, which wasn't nearly as smooth as his special routine of writing it on her palm. He'd never dealt with sweaty palms before. But she had good boobs and a nice tush, so maybe sweaty palms wouldn't matter.

  After she left, he downed his third G and T and left the bar feeling a whole lot better. He'd work off some of his frustration by having some hot sex with the waitress and then he'd head down to Sedona. If that loser of a PI could make it in five hours, Joey could do it in three and a half, easy.

  Lainie had drifted off to sleep, lulled by an excellent or­gasm and the steady drumming of rain on the
window. When she opened her eyes, the rain had stopped and the light in the room had dimmed to a soft gray. She lifted her head so she could see the red numbers on the digital clock beside the bed. Nearly six. They'd slept the after­noon away.

  Harry snored softly beside her. She took a moment to gaze at him. Of course he wasn't wearing his glasses, and his hair was tossed every which way by the sleep and the activities that had preceded sleep. Oh, such ac­tivities. Looking at Harry, she could feel herself getting excited again. He was the source of so much pleasure.

  Maybe her memory wasn't very good, but she didn't remember feeling nearly this satisfied when she'd had sex with other men. And there hadn't been all that many, despite what her parents thought. With a sigh she lay back on the pillow and wished, for the millionth time, that she'd been able to please her parents.

  But it seemed that from the time she'd first tried out for the pom squad and made it, they'd been unhappy. The outfits were too skimpy, they said, and the routines too suggestive. For her part, she'd loved every minute. Of course being on the pom squad meant lots of dates, and her parents hadn't liked that, either.

  They seemed to assume she was taming into a wild girl, and she hadn't been, but they'd made her mad enough to act like it. Going from the pom squad in high school to a casino stage in Atlantic City had seemed like a natural step to her, but they'd been horrified. They'd never come to see her dance.

  Maybe her sadness about her parents had been part of her attraction to Joey, who had some complaints about his parents, too. He'd acted like such a fun guy at first, and she'd been intrigued with how he'd initiated their first night of sex. He'd invited her to the bar for a drink after the show, and then he'd written his room number on the palm of her hand, which she'd thought was cute.

  Then he'd left, giving her time to decide whether to take him up on his offer or not. She'd felt like a very daring woman when she'd knocked on his hotel room door later that night. He'd ordered up champagne and chocolate-covered strawberries, which had made her feel special.

  She remembered the strawberries, but not much about the sex. During the months following that, she could count on one hand the number of climaxes she'd had. Her sexual experiences with Joey had been nothing compared to the chemistry she'd found with Harry. She would re­member being in Sedona with Harry for a very long time.