Opposites Attract (Nerds of Paradise Book 1)

by Merry Farmer

  He took her hand, loving the way it felt in his—delicate and yet strong. Then he blinked. “Flint?”

  “Yep.” A hint of a question took over from her sultry look.

  “Are you related to Roscoe Flint?”

  Her smile slipped further. “Yes, he’s my father.”

  Scott couldn’t believe his luck. “I know your father,” he said with a wide grin.

  “You do?”

  “Yeah. In fact, I’ve been doing business with him. Well, a kind of business. I just bought some land from him.” He was still holding her hand and gave it another shake before saying, “I’m Scott Martin.”

  Casey yanked her hand out of his as fast as if he’d caught fire. Her flirty grin switched instantly to livid hatred. “Scott Martin?”

  A thousand warning bells went off in Scott’s head. “Uh, yeah?”

  Casey pressed her lips together, her face coloring fast. She gripped her wine glass so hard that Scott was afraid it would shatter. Or that she’d throw her drink at him after all.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked, wondering what the hell had just happened.

  “You snake,” she hissed. “You absolute, vile jackass.”

  “I…uh…what?” He was surprised that, more than feeling attacked by her sudden turnabout, he wanted to reach out and hold he—to steady her and find out what was so wrong.

  “That land has been in my family for over a hundred and thirty years,” she seethed on. “You have no right to barge in and steal it from us.”

  Scott’s mouth fell open. His brain snapped into problem-solving mode, emotion taking a backseat to analytical thought. “I wasn’t aware there was any controversy with the sale. Your father seemed relieved that I could pay him a fair price, and that the house I plan to build will have the least amount of environmental impact possible.”

  “Fair price?” she rampaged on, although at least her rampage was quiet and not drawing attention. Again, miles different from how Brenda would have handled conflict. “It’s bad enough that ranchers across the state are having a hard time making ends meet, but for outsiders like you to come along and break up ranches that have carried on traditions for generations is just wicked.”

  Scott let out a breath. He thought he understood at least part of what was going on. “It’s okay. I talked to your father and your brother—Ted is your brother, isn’t he?” She didn’t answer, just glared at him. So he went on. “I talked to them about this at length. I’m not planning to do anything that will damage their ability to work the ranch in any way. I’m just building a house, and an off-grid house at that. It’ll have self-generated electricity, a well and septic tank instead of being connected to the local sewers, I plan to use green building techniques and—”

  “I don’t care about any of that,” she interrupted, a note of desperation in her tone. “It’s our family ranch. You can’t go breaking up family or parceling out memories to perfect strangers.”

  “I won’t—” Scott stopped, thinking better of continuing with his plan of using logic in what was clearly an emotional situation. Logic told him he should cut his losses and walk away from Casey, but something deeper and bigger inside of him wanted to reach out to her, to figure out why she was so upset about a tiny piece of land, and make things better. She’d gone from sexy siren to towering inferno in thirty seconds, but if anything, that drew Scott to her even more.

  “Okay, how about this.” He tried a different tactic. “When we go out on Friday night—”

  “I’m not going out with you,” she snapped. She raked him from head to toe with a gaze that started out as disgusted…but petered out and turned helpless. “I’m never going out with you,” she said, slightly calmer, but also with a hint of disappointment.

  Scott latched onto that. “We can work this out. This doesn’t have to be a deal-breaker between the two of us. I’d really love to get to know you better.”

  She laughed sharply. “I don’t think so, buddy. Not when you’re the one ripping my family’s ranch apart.”

  “It doesn’t have to be like—”

  There was no point in continuing. Casey had turned on her boot heel and marched away. A strange mix of excitement, disappointment, and determination swirled in Scott’s gut. He followed her with his gaze as she marched back to her friends, all four of whom had been watching their exchange as if it was the season finale of the hottest show on tv. They met Casey with curious and baffled glances as one of the curly-haired ladies folded her in a hug, probably asking what was wrong.

  Scott would have loved to know the answer to that question himself. All he knew was that he’d upset a vibrant, flirty, fun girl who he was dying to know better, and that he had to do something to make things right.

  “What’s wrong?” Melody asked, pulling Casey into a hug as soon as she rejoined her friends.

  “Did he say something offensive?” Sandy asked.

  “No,” Casey growled, then changed her mind. “Actually, yes. He said his name.”

  Her friends blinked at her. Melody kept her arm looped around Casey’s waist as if she needed the support.

  “What does his name have to do with anything?” Calliope asked.

  “It’s Scott Martin,” Casey spat.

  Again, her friends looked at her with zero understanding.

  Casey blew out a breath and pushed away from Melody. “Scott Martin,” she repeated. “He’s the bastard that bought land from my dad.”

  Bit by bit, comprehension dawned in each of Casey’s friends’ faces.

  “Oh,” Sandy said, nodding.

  “Yeah, I can see how that would throw you for a loop,” Rita agreed.

  “I don’t.” Melody shrugged. “So he’s buying land from your dad. What difference does that make?”

  Casey gaped at her. “He’s breaking up our ranch. He’s taking land that’s been in the family for generations.”

  “Well, how much land are we talking here?” Melody asked. “Half the ranch? More?”

  A prickle of uncertainty gnawed at Casey’s gut. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a part of her urged calm, tried to tell her she should adopt Melody’s level of rationale about the situation. The rest of her wasn’t having it.

  “It doesn’t matter how much land,” she insisted. “It’s the principle of the thing. That property is a part of my family, a part of who we’ve been since my ancestors met on the Oregon Trail.”

  “Okay, sister, I think you need to finish that drink of yours, then think about this again,” Sandy said in her best mothering voice. She always had been the one to take the rest of them in hand when they got out of control.

  Of course, that made Casey want to throw her wine away entirely in protest.

  Maybe.

  Possibly.

  On second thought…

  She lifted the glass to her lips and took as large a gulp as she dared.

  “I don’t know,” Calliope said as Casey drank. “From where I was standing, it looked like you and the villainous Scott Martin got along really well.”

  “Yeah,” Melody agreed as Sandy and Rita nodded. “Your whole face lit up at one point there.”

  “His too,” Rita added. “I was convinced that we’d all be picking out our bridesmaids dresses next week.”

  Casey finished a last gulp of her wine and fixed Rita with a flat stare. “I just met the guy. And it turns out he’s a jerk.”

  “He doesn’t look like a jerk to me,” Sandy muttered, staring past Casey with her arms crossed in consideration.

  Casey pivoted to see what she was staring at. Her stomach gave an uncomfortably giddy jolt at the sight of Scott Martin, standing exactly where she’d left him, watching her. Their gazes met, and he sent her a weak smile, lifting his free hand in a wave. Casey’s heart beat harder.

  She whipped back to face her friends, her head swimming a little. Maybe she shouldn’t have downed the wine so fast. And it was the wine that was giving her that swoopy feeling. It certainly wasn’t the man who
had just taken a huge chunk out of her land, her family, her childhood.

  “Maybe you should put any sort of decision about whether he’s a good guy or a bad guy on hold until you’ve had a chance to digest everything,” Sandy said. “In the meantime, we can—”

  “Ladies and gentlemen.” Howie Four’s deep, booming voice sounded over the planetarium’s PA system. The socializing crowd shifted to look toward the front of the room, where Howie was standing on what must have been a small dais, a light shining on him. “Welcome to Paradise Space Flight’s post-Christmas, pre-New Year’s mixer.”

  Applause followed as Howie held a glass of something up as if toasting the crowd. He was a captivating man, if not an entirely handsome one, in his early fifties, with greying hair and a belly big enough to show he enjoyed life, but not so big as to be obese. Under normal circumstances, Casey loved listening to his notoriously wild speeches, but at that moment she didn’t have the heart for it.

  “I won’t talk long,” Howie went on. “I just wanted to welcome you and encourage everyone to mix and mingle. PSF family, meet the good people of Haskell. And Haskellians, find yourself a few new friends among the newcomers. And if I don’t have half you lot married, dating, or at least doing the horizontal hokey-pokey by this time next year, well, I’m just going to have to try harder.”

  Laughter swelled from the party-goers, but Casey’s stomach turned. She glanced in Scott’s direction, and unfortunately for her, he was looking right back at her. He probably thought Howie was just joking about the whole matchmaking thing, but Casey—and everyone else in Haskell—knew better. The Haskell family was notorious for two things as far back as anyone had known them—making money and meddling in people’s love lives. Well, Casey wasn’t going to have any of it.

  “We’ve got good food for you here tonight, good wine, and later we’ll be playing some fun games,” Howie went on.

  Casey made a choking sound. “That’s it,” she muttered to her friends as Howie continued to speak. “I’m getting out of here.”

  “What?” Melody looked genuinely shocked. “You can’t leave. If Howie’s got games planned, then you know something weird and wild is going to happen.”

  “It can happen without me,” Casey said and tried to move away.

  Calliope grabbed her hand to hold her back. “At least stay until he finishes his speech,” she whispered. “You know he hates seeing people walk out while he’s talking.”

  It was true, and if she was being honest with herself, Casey cared enough about what Howie and everyone else thought to stay right where she was. But she could only barely crack a smile when he made his jokes, and she couldn’t keep her mind from wandering.

  Or her gaze, as it turned out. Like it or not, she found herself staring at Scott Martin’s profile as Howie went on about meeting and melding with new people. Of all the guys in the world, of all the guys who had come to Haskell to work for PSF, she had to meet the one who she’d decided in advance to hate. He was gorgeous, he was charming, and for a second there, she’d thought she’d been swept off her feet. A few rebellious parts of her continued to pulse and ache in ways that were the direct opposite of everything she was determined to feel for the jerk. That only got worse when he glanced sideways and caught her staring at him.

  She snapped away, jaw hard, arms crossed, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing how attracted she was. The last thing she wanted was to get a case of the hot-and-bothereds for the man who was about to crash a wrecking-ball through her world.

  Chapter Three

  The encounter with Casey Flint at Howie’s holiday mixer stayed with Scott for days. It made absolutely no sense to him that someone as cute and spicy as Casey could flash every green light at him one minute, then slam those lights to red as soon as she figured out who he was. There had been instant chemistry between them. Instant, but fleeting.

  He sighed and shook his head as he walked along the perimeter of his new land. The Flint ranch was in a gorgeous spot of country. There were mountains far in the distance to the west, the skyline of the town of Haskell to the south, and nothing but vast, wild space to the north and east. Flint’s herd of cattle were out roaming in one of the fields nearby, although with the Wyoming January chill, Scott wondered if they wouldn’t be better off indoors somewhere. Not that he knew what kind of shelter cattle needed. Casey seemed to know, though. She was out wandering between the cattle several hundred yards away, doing whatever cowgirls did.

  He grinned to himself, trying not to let his heart run away with him, and continued to circle around his own spot of land. It wasn’t a vast tract by any means, but he didn’t need that much for the house he had in mind. His patch was close enough to the road to put in a driveway, but far enough from anything else that he’d be able to set up plenty of solar panels and a small windmill to provide power. He walked back and forth, rubbing the bottom half of his face and adjusting his glasses now and then. What he needed to figure out first, though, was where to sink a well.

  “Having second thoughts?”

  Casey’s voice nearby startled Scott. He pivoted to find her standing a few yards away, wearing faded jeans, scuffed boots, and an old pea coat that was too big for her. Her hair hung down her back in a braid, and she wore a thick, warm band of wool around her head and ears. Her arms were crossed, but she didn’t look like she was on the verge of tearing into him. In fact, she looked amazing and full of life, cheeks pink and eyes bright.

  As soon as he realized he was staring, he shook his head. “No, I’m trying to figure out the best place to put a well.”

  She arched one dark brow. “I have some suggestions of where you can put it.”

  Scott couldn’t help but chuckle, even though the barbed comment was at his expense. He liked her spark. “I’m sure you do. But like I said, I think that once you see what I have planned for this house, you’ll approve.”

  “Is that what you think?” Her cheeks went pinker, and for a second Scott was convinced he was about to have a new orifice torn. But she stopped and drew in a long breath. “This isn’t exactly wetlands. You might not find an adequate spot for a well at all.”

  Scott pushed his glasses up his nose and wandered closer to her. “Actually, the U.S. Geological Survey has maps of all the aquifers in the country, and the guy I consulted is pretty sure I’ll be able to tap into a tertiary aquifer on this spot.” He could tell from the pinch of Casey’s lips that he’d been too technical, but he didn’t want to insult her by dumbing down his explanation. “It should be okay,” he finished.

  Her arms stayed crossed. “Seems like a lot of trouble to go through to build a house.” Her voice was a little too steady, a little too smooth. “I bet it costs a ton of money.”

  Scott shrugged and gestured for her to walk around the perimeter with him. “It’s not cheap, but a little investment up front will yield a huge return when I don’t have to pay utility bills. Besides, most of the features I plan to put into this house will go a long way to helping the environment. Now more than ever, that’s incredibly important.”

  “Environmental issues are important to you?” she asked, matching her steps to his.

  “Absolutely,” he said. “We’ve only got one planet, and even though I’m working for a guy who is looking for ways to get off of it, I still think it’s vital that we live responsibly while we’re here.”

  She sent him a calculating sideways look. “So you care about the land.”

  He knew he was being set up, but he said, “Yes,” anyhow.

  Casey stopped at the corner of the patch nearest the road. “Then why are you trying to ruin a historic ranch that has been responsibly raising cattle for more than a hundred and thirty years?”

  Yep. He’d walked right into that one. He grinned, running a hand through his hair. For the last half hour, he’d been thinking that he should have brought a hat, but now his head and face were hot with the challenge that Casey represented.

  “Five acres barely makes
a dent in the ranch,” he said, fairly certain it wasn’t going to change her mind. “And hey, if things go well, the ranch might be able to use some of the excess electricity I generate.”

  She frowned, chewing her lip as if she hadn’t expected that reply. Scott’s gaze was drawn to her mouth, and he forgot why he was standing there for a second.

  “You’re from California, right?” she asked suddenly, shifting him back to attention. The two of them began walking again.

  “Yeah. Born and raised in San Clemente, although I’ve been in L.A. for the past eight years.”

  Casey nodded, her eyes fixed on the frozen dirt in front of her as they walked. “So why on earth would you move to Haskell?” She looked up at him as they turned the corner of Scott’s patch.

  “I wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to get in on the ground floor of a company as exciting as Paradise Space Flight.”

  Casey let out a short, genuine laugh. “I still can’t believe Howie started something like that.”

  “Why not?” he asked, eager to get away from whatever plot she was trying to hatch and into a real conversation.

  She sent him a wry look. “Building rockets? Spaceships? In the middle of Wyoming?”

  “The space flight industry is on the rise,” Scott told her. “Aside from the practical application of launching commercial satellites and providing support to governmental space agencies, mankind was meant to explore.” He shrugged. “We’re pretty much out of new territory to investigate on this planet—unless you count the deep sea—so naturally we’re looking to the stars for our next great adventure.”

  A sparkle lit Casey’s eyes, and a hint of a smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. Scott was filled with the urge to take her out and tell her all his dreams and fantasies about everything mankind could be capable of, if they got their acts together and figured out how to get around a few pesky points of physics.

  A moment later, her expression hardened again. “Yeah, but why Wyoming?”