Some Like It Geek: A Really Big Set of Romances

by Box Set

  “Sevda!” Michelle and Katie squealed at the same time and scooted out from behind their booths to hug the newcomer.

  Fortunately, Sevda had the presence of mind to set the cups down before they dove on her for a group hug. She and her husband owned a food truck that specialized in Mediterranean cuisine, and they always had a spot amongst the food vendors at this convention.

  “Muhammad sent over all of your favorites. Lamb kebabs, rice, dolmas, börek.” Sevda’s Turkish accent rolled the words into something melodious and lovely. “But I brought you the best part of the meal.”

  “Your famous Turkish coffee and baklava,” Katie whispered with the kind of reverence most people would use for heartfelt prayer. This was the most amazing coffee in the world, after all. No one else made it like Sevda.

  “Yes.” Her laugh rose and fell like music scale.

  Larry was already digging in to one of the food containers. “How’s life? How have you been? How are your kids? Parents? Siblings?”

  “My sisters are good. They each have one of my sons for the week. My daughter is finishing up her freshman year of college, and doing very well.” Sevda grinned, then groaned. “Though my father is losing his hearing but refuses to admit it, and my mother is humoring him by learning to speak at a shout.”

  “I have a feeling that solution will be short-lived.” Since Katie was a total orphan, she felt a pang of longing for familial connections. She had no siblings and her parents and grandparents had all passed—she’d inherited her condo from her last surviving grandmother five years prior. As much as she loved the condo, she’d have rather kept Grandma Betty.

  Sevda held up her hands. “I’ve given up on the issue of his hearing. When they finally decide to make an appointment with his doctor, I’ll be happy to drive them.”

  “Parents.” Michelle sighed and shook her head. “My father has given up on having any filters. The last time I introduced him to a friend of mine, he told her she had a nice butt.”

  Sevda clapped her hands to her mouth and giggled. “Oh, my.”

  “Thankfully, he was speaking Mandarin, so she didn’t understand.”

  Larry waggled his eyebrows and added, “But the way he leered at her meant she knew whatever he’d said had been inappropriate. Fortunately, she was amused rather than offended when we translated.”

  “That is fortunate,” Sevda agreed. “All right, I’ll leave you to your meal. You’ll want to eat before the floodgates open.”

  “I adore you.” Michelle bit into a dolma and let out an orgasmic moan.

  “You adore my food more,” Sevda countered with a smile.

  “It’s a tie,” Michelle assured her.

  Sevda passed out the paper cups, and Katie took a deep swig of liquid ambrosia. “I adore you more than your coffee, but it’s close.”

  A laughed burst from the Turkish woman. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “I meant it as one.” Katie savored another sip. “I’m sure I’ll catch up with Muhammad later, but say hello for me in the meantime.”

  “I will.” Sevda flapped her hands at them, shooing them toward the stack of Styrofoam containers. “Go on or you won’t have time to eat my good food!”

  She didn’t get more than three steps away before Katie, Michelle, and Larry fell on the containers like marauding Vikings. Katie had just stuffed a big bite of lamb into her mouth when she glanced up and choked in shock.

  Sweet baby Jesus, that was Derek Forrester striding down the aisle toward her, his sharp gaze sweeping over each vendor stall.

  When he spotted her, he paused midstride. Then his eyes went wide when he took in her costume. She felt a flush burn her cheeks, and she wanted to crawl in the nearest hole. Self-consciousness consumed her, and she crossed her arms protectively over her breasts. His gaze focused on her chest for a moment, and she realized her actions had emphasized her already abundant assets.

  Awesome.

  She swallowed hard as he made a beeline straight for her. He was draped in black and wore a leather coat that emphasized his broad shoulders. He looked so freaking good that it took her a second to realize he was in costume. Derek Forrester was at a science fiction convention. In costume. Her worlds collided in ways she’d never even believed possible.

  “You’re cosplaying,” she blurted when he got within earshot, then wanted to slap herself upside the head for the inane comment.

  His brows rose. “Excuse me?”

  “You’re dressed as Finn from The Force Awakens.” Feeling another flush heat her cheeks when he stared at her blankly, she waved at his outfit. “You’re in a costume, playing a character from a show, movie, comic, etc. So…cosplay.”

  “Ah.” He rolled a shoulder in a shrug. “It’s just another uniform to me, to be honest. I’m working security for this event.”

  “Really?” Michelle piped up. “I didn’t know they had plain clothes—so to speak—security guards here.”

  Right, and that was Katie’s cue to try a normal introduction, rather than blurting out observations about what people were wearing. “Michelle and Larry, this is Derek. He’s my neighbor.”

  Her friends shook hands with her neighbor, and he addressed Michelle’s original question. “They don’t normally have undercover or plain clothes guards, but this is the biggest event this convention center holds annually, so the head of security wanted to bring in some extra manpower for the con without it looking like the place was crawling with security. He asked me to help out, and his assistant made sure I looked the part of an attendee.”

  Tipping her head, Katie frowned. “The head of security can call in favors from ex-Navy SEALs?”

  He turned back to her. “He was in the Teams himself.”

  “Oh.” Yeah, that was her most thoughtful response ever, wasn’t it?

  But he nodded like he didn’t think it was a moronic answer. “Tough to say no to old friends.”

  “Yes.” Great, another one-word reply. Her conversation skills were particularly sparkling this morning.

  His gaze went to the sign on her table. “Star-crossed Designs, huh?”

  She spread her hands. “I love science fiction, and my middle name is Isolde.”

  “A classic star-crossed lover,” he commented with a nod.

  At least he’d known who Isolde was. She’d had to explain the literary reference to her ex-fiancé when they’d first met. Maybe she should have just had him watch the awful movie adaptation. “Star-crossed Designs seemed to fit on a lot of levels.”

  Derek slid his fingers along the slim chain of a necklace she had on display. “Your work is pretty. I’ve seen you wear a lot of different jewelry—I didn’t know you made it.”

  He’d noticed what she wore? That surprised her. At least she managed not to blurt that out. She cleared her throat.

  “Thanks. I like what I do.” She waved to her displays, which featured more futuristic and steampunk inspired designs than what she’d take with her to, say, a renaissance faire. She liked that she got to create for so many different audiences. It was always a challenge to come up with something new and exciting.

  The smile he aimed at her made her heart skip a beat. He didn’t smile very often, but when he did it made his gorgeous face utterly perfect. No one should be that good-looking. It was unfair to the mere mortals of the world. “My brother’s fiancée worked on the advertising for a local jeweler.”

  Her brows rose. “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yeah, the one with the pets wearing jewelry.” He waved a hand to indicate the city around them. “They had commercials and billboards around town.”

  “Carraway Jewelers?” She blinked in surprise. “They just started selling a line of my work in their stores. We’ll see how it sells, but they were willing to give my stuff a try.”

  “Congratulations.” He reached out and gave her shoulder a brief squeeze before tipping his chin toward her booth. “I can see why they’d want to work with you. You have real talent.”

 
; “Katie! You didn’t tell us about Carraway. You’re amazing!” Michelle squealed.

  “Good job.” Larry gave Katie a high-five. “I know your bling will fly off their shelves.”

  Warmth flooded Katie, equal parts pride and embarrassment at being the recipient of so much praise. “Thanks. I just found out yesterday, so it’s really new. I haven’t even posted on social media to let customers know about a new place to buy my pieces.”

  “Did you design what you’re wearing?” Derek took her hand and turned it over to see the other side of her wrist cuff.

  The warmth turned to something a whole lot hotter as his fingertip traced the edge of the metal cuff, inadvertently stroking the sensitive skin at the inside of her wrist. She suppressed a shiver, and a wave of liquid want rolled through her. What she wouldn’t give for him to stroke other parts of her. “I…uh…yes. I did.”

  “Beautiful.”

  Yeah, him saying that to her, while touching her, was definitely going to feature in her dreams tonight. Which was probably not the most appropriate thought to have right now. She bit her lip, trying to hold back a smile.

  “So…” Larry broke in, and Derek dropped her hand. “If you’re supposed to be just another con-goer, who are you cosplaying tomorrow?”

  “I have four more costumes to choose from, but I figured I’d do Stacker Pentecost.”

  “Pacific Rim.” Michelle sighed, pressing a hand to her heart. “I love that one. So much man candy, so much slashy potential.”

  Larry raised his eyes heavenward before he refocused his attention on his meal, cleaning every morsel from the Styrofoam. Derek arched a brow, and asked, “Do I want to know what slashy means? I assume we’re not talking knives.”

  Watching his face closely for a reaction, Katie answered. “Michelle writes fan fiction. Mostly it’s slash fiction, where there’s a slash mark between the two characters names you’re going to make romantically involved. You know, Spock/Kirk, Harry/Draco, that sort of thing.”

  He seemed to absorb that for a moment. “Is it always two male characters?”

  Michelle shook her head, making her short dark hair fly around her face. “Not always, though it usually is two same-sex characters. There’s femslash, too. I write a bit of everything, even male-female pairings.” Her gaze gleamed evilly. “In Pacific Rim, for example, I could do Stacker and Raleigh. Or Stacker and Mako. Better yet, all three at once.” She actually licked her lips.

  His blue eyes widened for a moment, and his tone turned wary. “Stacker was Mako’s adopted father.”

  Which just made her nod insouciantly. “Stepdads and daughters are hot right now. Readers are eating that stuff up.”

  Katie choked down a horrified laugh. She’d read a few of her friend’s pieces. They were good, but they hadn’t had daddy-daughter relationships. Poor Derek. This was quite an introduction to the world of fan fiction.

  “No, no, no.” He backed away slowly, as if that might save him from the mental image. “Okay, I need to finish my walkthrough.”

  “Man, you have no idea.” Larry chugged his coffee. “She’s got a mind that never leaves the gutter.”

  Derek shared a speaking glance with the other man. “I’ve seen and heard about a lot of freakiness. Even participated in some, but daddy porn is way outside my comfort zone.”

  “It’s just fantasy,” Michelle protested.

  His look was incredulous. “Fantasies tell you a lot about a person.”

  Katie wondered what her fantasies would tell him. Other than she’d love to get in his pants. Never going to happen, but still…a girl could dream.

  “True,” Michelle purred and winked at him. “Care to share some of your fantasies, so when I’m imagining you as Finn when I’m writing later, I can keep it authentic?”

  “And I’m out.” Spinning on his heel, he suited actions to words.

  Michelle bent over in a belly laugh as soon as he walked away. Larry shook his head. “You’re an evil woman. It’s why I make a point never to get on your bad side.”

  “You enjoy my bad side.” She blew him a kiss, then turned to Katie. “I like your undercover SEAL. He’s fun.”

  “He’s a nice neighbor,” was Katie’s noncommittal reply. She wasn’t admitting to her own Derek-inspired delusions.

  Her friend made a rude noise. “Girl, he is wasted on you if that’s all you can say about him. I could write some filth about that boy that would make his head explode.”

  “Which head?” she quipped.

  “Ha! You see?” Michelle clapped. “That’s the feisty girl you need to show him.”

  “He’s met the real me.” In all her plump and frumpy glory.

  But her friend shook her head. “This is the real you too.”

  No, it wasn’t. That was the whole point. Cosplaying meant she could be anyone she wanted for a while. A skilled ninja who saved the world, a gun-toting galactic princess who didn’t take any crap from smugglers, an elfin queen who could see the future and twist it to her liking. Women who were strong and powerful and in control. Women who could have any man they wanted.

  Women who were nothing at all like the real Katie Jones.

  No good deed went unpunished. That was the lesson here.

  He’d been good. He’d kept his hands to himself for a year. And what was his reward? Did he get a merit badge or a cookie or something? No, he got an eyeful of Katie Jones half-naked.

  Hours later, the image of her was burned into his memory and powerful enough to give him a semi, which was remarkably uncomfortable when his job was to walk around a convention center. The moment he’d seen her in that superheroine getup, his heart had nearly stopped, and all the blood in his brain had rushed south. He’d hardened painfully as he slid his gaze down every delicious swell and valley of her figure.

  What he wouldn’t give to prop those red boots of hers on his shoulders and ease the pressure in his groin. He’d like to see her flushed and screaming his name as she came apart in his arms.

  And he needed to stop thinking about that or he was going to make his current discomfort a whole lot worse and possibly hose up his assignment.

  Get your head in the game, Forrester.

  He blew out a breath and turned down a hallway packed to the gills with people standing in line to get into one of the ballrooms, where the creator for a hugely popular anime cartoon would soon be speaking. He kept an eye out for anything out of place, but that was relative for his surroundings. Many people were cosplaying in over-the-top fashion, with technicolored outfits and makeup, wild wigs, and a variety of fake weaponry.

  He quietly reported a guy carrying a real Bowie knife to a uniformed guard, because the con strictly forbid weapons on the premises. Of course, in the right hands, a toothbrush could become a weapon, but a teenager waving around his daddy’s blade didn’t qualify in that category. The guard went to handle the issue, and Derek kept moving through the crowd, melting away before anyone could associate the guard with the man in the Finn costume. The kid wasn’t his target.

  So far, he’d caught a twelve-year-old smoking weed, a couple of scalpers selling fake tickets, and a trio of frat boys trying to set off firecrackers in one of the bathrooms. No thieves though. No one even looking longingly at someone else’s purse. But there were four more days left in this convention, so pickpockets had plenty of time to do their dirty work.

  After grabbing a burrito from one of the food trucks they had lined up just outside the convention center, he headed for the exhibitor’s hall and wandered down the long aisles of vendor booths. The sheer volume and variety of wares was astonishing. Every kind of collectible known to man was here somewhere, from the kitschy and cute to the exotic and exorbitant.

  He forced himself not to quicken his pace as he neared Katie’s row. Yep, he wanted to see that Wonder Woman outfit clinging to her curves, but he was working. He was one aisle over, and he made himself stroll along and inspect every booth and their customers, watching for anything that didn’t lo
ok right.

  The sound of Katie’s voice drew him up short. Tall clothing racks separated them, so he couldn’t see her, but she was loud enough to hear above the general din and she was pissed.

  “Go away, Nick.”

  Derek slipped closer, approaching the back of her booth by easing between the comic book dealer and clothier on the aisle behind hers. Now he could catch both sides of the conversation without straining, but remain out of their line of sight. If she didn’t need him, he wouldn’t step in. If she was being harassed…well, he was security here.

  “Come on, baby.” A man’s tone was cajoling. “You know we were good together, and you haven’t moved on. Be honest—have you been on a date in the two years since we broke up?”

  “Yes,” she snapped.

  Derek had a full view of the guy—Nick—speaking to Katie, but could only see her profile. The guy was maybe an inch or two taller than she was, and had white-blond hair and deep dimples he was currently flashing at her. As far as Derek could tell, Larry and Michelle had stepped away from their booth, so Katie was on her own. Basically, the perfect time for an ex to bother a woman.

  Nick leaned in closer. “Did any of them make it past the first date?”

  She pressed her palms to the tabletop, her jaw jutting pugnaciously. “That’s my business, not yours.”

  “Give us another chance, baby. You know you want to.” He reached out to run a fingertip over the back of her hand.

  Derek had to bite back a growl, possessiveness gripping his gut. Possessiveness he had no right to feel, considering he’d refused to acknowledge the interest he’d seen in her gaze when she looked at him. Maybe she looked at Nick the same way. Maybe she enjoyed having him touch her.

  Derek didn’t like that thought at all.

  “No,” she enunciated. “I don’t want to give us another chance.”

  “We were engaged, Katie.” Nick grabbed her elbow. “You can’t just throw that away.”

  She shook her head, her dark hair sliding across her bare shoulders. “I caught you with your tongue down another woman’s throat. End of story.”

  “Baby—”