Thermal Dynamics (Nerds of Paradise Book 5)

by Merry Farmer

  “The board doesn’t see it that way.” Ronny smiled with his most devious, shark-like grin.

  “You think you’ve got the board under your thumb,” she scoffed, working harder than ever to appear confident, “but you’re fooling yourself. Those people have worked with Dad for ages. They know he’s on top of things.”

  “You wanna bet?” His eyes slipped down to her cleavage.

  That, combined with the fact that she and Jogi actually had bet on the outcome of the dance competition to save the bank, sent a chill down her back. “Go away,” she said, resorting to a last, lame attempt to dismiss whatever threats Ronny was making.

  Ronny must have sensed her underlying apprehension. He moved closer, close enough to run his fingertips down her arm. “All it would take is one word from me in the right ears, and I could make sure the vote in two weeks goes the way you want it to.”

  A chill slithered down Sandy’s spine. “What are you talking about?”

  Ronny inched closer still, close enough for her to smell his sweat under the layer of cologne he wore. “You know what I want, Sandy. You know what I’ve always wanted. Give in and you get as much out of it as I will.” He leaned all the way in to whisper, “And I promise, I’ll give it to you good.”

  Sandy barely had time to step away from him and drop her jaw in shocked fury when Jogi stepped in. “Hey!” he shouted, shoving Ronny’s shoulder. “Back off.”

  “Easy there, Apu.” Ronny held up his hands, pretending not to be shaken. “It’s none of your business.”

  “It’s my business if you hit on my girlfriend.”

  Sandy went hot and cold at once. She could feel color splash her face, but her gut twisted with ice. “Jogi,” she whispered, touching his arm in an effort to get him to back off. “Not now.”

  “I won’t have him treating you like that,” Jogi said, eyes still locked on Ronny.

  Her instinct was to say that it was okay, but it wasn’t. It never had been. Ronny was born creepy, and he only got worse with every sick move he pulled. And he’d just topped himself.

  “Come on, Ronny.” Natalie sighed and stepped into the scene, grabbing Ronny by the shirt. “Let’s get in a little practice before class starts.” She seemed about as happy to have anything to do with Ronny as she would have to muck out the stalls of every stable in Sweetwater County.

  Sandy made a mental note to thank her somehow. With a final smarmy wink, Ronny let Natalie lead him away. That didn’t ease the writhing, roiling feeling in Sandy’s gut, though.

  “Why did you say that?” she snapped, turning on Jogi.

  “Say what?” Jogi’s expression dropped into a warning frown.

  Sandy stepped closer to him and whispered, “That I’m your girlfriend.”

  Jogi’s frown deepened, and as it did, the writhing in Sandy’s gut flared.

  “Is it true?” he asked. “That we’re together?”

  She took a breath. “Yes.” It was what she wanted. It was what she’d always wanted. And dammit, she was going to stick by that, even if it spun her so far out of control that she didn’t know where she was anymore.

  Jogi’s intense expression didn’t let up by a hair. “I’m not having another secret relationship with you,” he said. “If we’re together, then everyone knows it.”

  She had to steady herself, particularly the part that wanted to run, before saying, “Agreed.”

  Jogi’s shoulders relaxed, and his brow flickered up. “Really?”

  He looked so surprised that Sandy smiled in spite of herself. “Don’t sound so shocked. I might be slow to learn, but I do learn eventually.”

  “You’re not slow to learn.” He relaxed even more, taking her hand and twining his fingers through hers. “You’re just stubborn about letting on what you don’t know.”

  She laughed loud enough to draw attention from Jogi’s friends, who had been trying to give them a second of privacy. “There’s plenty I don’t know. Too much.”

  “You could have fooled me.”

  He grinned, then leaned in to give her a quick kiss. If that didn’t alert everyone in the room to the fact that they were together, nothing would. And if anyone could have seen how frantically her heart was beating now that the cat was out of the bag, they would either have thought she was crazy or Jogi was a fool for taking on someone as confused and skittish as she was.

  Of course, in all probability, none of them were giving a second thought to what she and Jogi did. Especially not after Buffy and Carl made their grand entrance into the room to begin the lesson.

  “Oh my gosh, what are they wearing?” one of Jogi’s friends laughed.

  Buffy and Carl were both dressed in colors so bright they made Sandy’s eyes hurt. Carl wore a pair of baggy pants with a tunic, and Buffy was dressed in a wide, full skirt covered with embroidery and tiny mirrors and a cropped top with a diaphanous scarf wrapped around her torso and pinned to her head. But as comical as they looked, Sandy couldn’t help but beam as if she and Jogi had just been handed a prize.

  “No way.” Jogi gaped at the couple, his eyes alight and his jaw dropping.

  “Hi, everybody,” Buffy and Carl said in unison, drawing everyone’s attention.

  A ripple of reaction to their outfits spread through the room, and Jogi began to laugh.

  “As you might guess from our costumes,” Carl began, “one of the two dances you will be doing this week is inspired by—”

  He glanced to Buffy, and the two of them finished together with, “Bollywood!”

  Sandy clapped a hand over her mouth to stop herself from roaring with laughter. Half the people in the room glanced her and Jogi’s way, a few of them grinning or moaning and rolling their eyes. They all had a sense of humor about it. Well, all except Ronny.

  “Wait a second,” Ronny snapped. “That’s totally not fair.”

  “Anyone can learn to dance like they do in Bollywood movies,” Carl answered him, either pretending he didn’t notice Ronny’s venomous glare for Jogi or genuinely not catching it. “The steps are simple and fun.”

  “And as an added challenge for all of you who have made it this far,” Buffy picked up where Carl left off, “we’re going to make this into a single, choreographed, group dance.”

  Another round of amused comments floated through the competitors.

  “Each couple will have a highlighted section,” Carl finished the explanation. “That will be your chance to really shine for the judges.”

  “But this is cheating,” Ronny continued to argue. “He’s probably been dancing those stupid Indian dances his whole life.” He flung his arm out to Jogi and sneered at him.

  “If you can’t handle a little bhangra heat, you’d better stay away from the fire.” Jogi taunted him right back by moving smoothly into an expert, lively dance step that involved bouncing shoulders and bent knees.

  A giddy thrill filled Sandy’s heart as she watched a side of Jogi that she’d never seen unfold. Even without music, she could see that he was good, maybe better than good. He had rhythm, and beyond that, he exuded confidence. Especially when the other couples applauded and called encouragements.

  “See? It’s not fair,” Ronny complained. “He has an advantage.”

  “You’ve been taking ballroom dancing lessons your whole life,” Natalie snapped back at him. “I haven’t heard anyone complain that you have an advantage.”

  Jogi popped out of his dance and sent Ronny a challenging nod. “If you think you can’t handle it, you should drop out now.”

  “I’m not about to drop out,” Ronny growled back. He turned to Buffy and Carl, who looked as though they couldn’t decide whether to be upset or enthusiastic about being interrupted. “What’s the other dance this week?”

  “Uh, Quick Step,” Carl answered.

  “It’s going to be a high-energy night,” Buffy added, jumping back into her usual perky style. “So grab your partner and find a big, wide spot on the floor. You’re going to need all the space you can ge
t.”

  The couples spread out to claim different areas of the gym floor. Jogi took Sandy’s hand and led her to the side of the group. Ronny remained bullishly in his spot, though.

  “So that’s it,” he said, face twisted in a sneer. “You’re just going to give someone an unfair advantage and spoil the entire point of the competition?”

  “The steps aren’t any harder than traditional ballroom steps,” Carl reassured him, his over-bright smile looking a little plastered on as he faced Ronny’s scowl. “Once you get the hang of it, I’m sure you’ll give Jogi a real run for his money.”

  Even Ronny must have seen that he wasn’t going to break through Carl’s dogged cheerfulness. He sniffed and stalked back to where Natalie was standing, shoulders drooping, a look of suffering on her face. Before Ronny reached her side, he glared over at Jogi.

  “You’re going down,” he said, even though he was barely close enough to be heard.

  It didn’t matter. Jogi and Sandy got the message loud and clear, and it didn’t seem to bother Jogi one bit. In fact, he deliberately turned away from Ronny and faced Sandy with a triumphant grin, saying, “This competition just got interesting.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Did you take your meds?” Sandy asked as she adjusted the pillow behind her dad’s back as he sat watching TV after supper on Friday night.

  “I don’t have to take them until bed time,” Wainright told her with a shake of his head.

  “Did you drink enough water today?” Sandy asked on, heading to the kitchen to get him another glass.

  “I’m not an invalid, Sandy,” Wainright called after her.

  “Yes, you are,” she shot back.

  “No, he’s not,” Ward said from the kitchen counter, where he was finishing up with the night’s dishes.

  Sandy glared at him as she took a glass from the cupboard to fill with water from the fridge. “Well, he’s not the spritely young man he used to be.”

  “In case the doctor forgot to inform you,” Wainright made himself heard from the living room, “the stent resolved the problem. It didn’t create more.”

  “You still need to rest,” Sandy insisted. She nodded to Ward, making sure he got the message too, and as soon as the glass of water was mostly full, she carried it back into the living room. “You have to show the board that you’re in peak health as soon as possible.”

  “Before the vote, you mean.” Wainright raised an eyebrow, seeing right through her.

  Sandy’s face went hot. “Some days I think I care more about the bank than you do.”

  “Don’t talk to Dad like that.” Ward walked into the room behind her, looking ready for a fight.

  “Some days I think she’s right,” Wainright said. It didn’t come off as a defense of Sandy’s doggedness though. Wainright sighed. “Sweetheart, you need to take a deep breath before you end up having a heart attack to match mine.”

  He was probably joking, but his words struck a chord. She thought of Jogi, thought of the way nothing seemed to pan out the way she expected it to in their relationship. Not that she wasn’t enjoying every moment she had with him. They’d had a fantastic time at dance classes all week long and an even better time afterwards. But everything about letting her heart go scared her. That was the heart attack she couldn’t avoid having.

  And if she couldn’t control one aspect of her life, maybe she could get a firm grip on another.

  “Mom and Rita are out shopping,” she told her father, close to scolding. “So don’t get up and start running around the house doing any heavy lifting.”

  “Will you give it a rest already?” Ward crossed his arms.

  “I’m just looking out for Dad.”

  “You’re railroading Dad is more like it,” Ward insisted. “I would have thought you’d get over the need to bully everyone around you. You’re in a relationship after all, aren’t you?”

  “So you and that Indian guy are official?” Wainright asked, a smile spreading across his strained and weary face.

  Sandy sighed, not sure which of her male relatives she wanted to throttle first. Every one of her instincts told her to deny the relationship for the sake of maintaining her autonomy and authority, but she’d promised Jogi she wouldn’t.

  “Yes, Dad, Jogi and I are officially dating,” she said, then moved to take a blanket from the back of the sofa to throw over his lap. “But don’t go thinking that just because I have a boyfriend I’m going to turn into some simpering, submissive nobody.”

  “It’s ninety degrees out. I don’t need a blanket.” Wainright pushed the blanket aside as soon as Sandy stepped away. “And nobody ever said that a woman turns into June Cleaver the second she gets involved with a man.”

  “Especially not in this family,” Ward added with a chuckle.

  Sandy glared at him. She wanted to come back with something witty, but her chest squeezed with the worry that she would be the one to buck the trend and turn into exactly the kind of passive woman she didn’t want to be because of love.

  “If you two are finished, I have a dance competition to nail tonight,” she said.

  “Yeah, weren’t you supposed to be at the high school fifteen minutes ago?” Wainright glanced across the room to the clock on the mantle. It was almost as old as the house itself, and the house had been in the family since the 1870s. It was one of the few original buildings still standing.

  Sandy’s frown followed her dad’s gaze only to find that he was right. “Crap.” She jumped into action, heading for the front hall where she’s left her purse. “I’m going to be late.”

  “I’ll walk with you.” Ward hurried after her.

  “You need to stay here and keep an eye on Dad,” Sandy shot back as they both reached the front door.

  “I’m not an invalid,” Wainright called from the living room.

  Ward gave Sandy an obnoxious, brotherly look, then held the front door open for her. They marched out into the steamy night together.

  “I don’t understand why you’re even still here,” she said as they rushed up the path and around the corner to Main Street. “Don’t you have some big, fancy brokerage to tend and a pile of money to make?”

  “Family is more important,” Ward answered. “And I’ve got partners at the firm who are on top of things.” Before Sandy could come up with a reply, Ward zipped on with, “You could learn a thing or two about letting the people whose job it is to handle things do just that.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” She shot him a sideways look as they neared the crossroads with Elizabeth Street.

  “It means that Dad has everything at the bank in hand, whether you want to admit it or not, and you should focus on your legal clients and your boyfriend.”

  His comment set her teeth on edge. “I’m not letting the problems with the bank go just because I have a man in my life now. Dating doesn’t make me less of a person.”

  Ward’s brow shot up. “Is that what you think? That being part of a couple makes you less of an individual?”

  “It’s not what I think, it’s what the world thinks.” She pulled up just in time to avoid stepping into Elizabeth Street as a truck drove past.

  Ward held out an arm to protect her, but she pushed it away. “You’re still the same Sandy you always were, Indian guy or not.”

  “His name is Jogi,” Sandy grumbled and rushed across the street as soon as it was clear.

  “Being in a relationship doesn’t make you less than you were before.”

  As soon as they were on the other side of the street, heading for the road that ended in the high school’s parking lot, she sent him a peevish look. “And you’re such an expert on relationships, mister divorced guy?”

  Ward’s face hardened. “Cynthia had her reasons for leaving. I had to respect them. But neither she nor I were ever ‘less than’ during our entire marriage.”

  Sandy shook her head. She didn’t know why she was arguing in the first place. Ward’s wife had been a gold digge
r, as far as she was concerned. She would have been happy to be superfluous and submissive as his wife, except that Ward hadn’t played that game. But Cynthia’s marriage goals only proved the point that irritated Sandy like a good old Wyoming burr in the saddle. Not just Cynthia. Sandy was one hundred percent certain that if someone like Ronny Bonneville got his way, she’d be nothing but a trophy wife. She’d always known it.

  “Funny, but I never imagined you being serious with a guy,” Ward went on. Sandy sent him a sideways look of warning, but he didn’t heed it. “You always struck me as a ‘love ‘em and leave ‘em’ sort.”

  “You’d say that about your own sister?”

  “Yes,” Ward laughed. “Because it’s true. And I want to know what’s so special about this Jogi guy that he’s made you forsake your life of determined spinsterhood for him.”

  “We’re not called spinsters anymore,” she growled at him. “We’re called driven career women.”

  “Fine.” Ward nodded. “But that still doesn’t answer my question. Why this guy? Why now?”

  They reached the school’s side entrance, and Ward picked up his pace to hold the door for her. That gave Sandy the perfect opportunity to frown at her brother as they entered the building. It also allowed her to stall. Because in truth, she had no idea what it was that made Jogi special. And if Ward knew how close she’d come to messing the whole thing up, she’d never hear the end of it.

  He must have sensed some kind of upset in her, because before they could turn the corner to head down the hall that led to the gym’s locker rooms, Ward stopped her. His hand on her arm was gentle, and his expression had softened.

  “I’m not trying to give you a hard time,” he said. “I’m really happy that you’ve found someone you like enough to change your mind about the whole relationship thing.”

  “I haven’t changed my mind about anything.”

  He shook his head. “I’m your big brother, San. You might be able to fool other people, but I’ve known you too long. Long enough to see that this is hard for you.”