The Perfect Solution

by Day Leclaire

  “Lady, who gives a damn? It’s a movie!”

  “Shh!” hissed someone else.

  “Okay, fine.” She turned back around and murmured to Flynn, “But it doesn’t make sense.”

  “I think it’s a guy thing. Fast cars, faster women and taking over the world. We start there and then settle for whatever comes closest—like a van, the girl next door and being king of the couch and remote control. To be honest, even the remote control is iffy.” He nodded toward the screen and sighed. “But in our dreams...”

  She made a sound of disgust. “That explains it. A woman would know better than to waste her time trying to rule people who have no interest in being ruled. It’s not at all logical. Aside from an extremely short life expectancy due to the serious threat of assassination, the sheer volume of paperwork must be—”

  Popcorn rained down on them, and to Flynn’s amusement she slid down in her seat and curled close. Then she slipped a hand into their bag and surreptitiously tossed a few buttery kernels over her shoulder. It wasn’t until halfway through the film that she got them into trouble again.

  “Now that is ridiculous,” she snapped.

  “Shh!”

  “No, I won’t shush. What he’s proposing is physically impossible. That little dropper of chemicals wouldn’t make a mouse sick, let alone take out the entire city of Cincinnati.”

  “Would you please be quiet?”

  Jane whipped around in her seat again. “Don’t you care that this film is inaccurate?”

  The man groaned. “It’s not supposed to be accurate. It’s supposed to be entertaining and it’s not even that because you won’t shut up!”

  “This is outrageous.” Popcorn pelted them. “Do you realize it would take approximately six hundred and forty-five pounds of that mixture before someone got so much as a bellyache? That’s a generalization, you understand, since I’ve had to convert kilograms to pounds.”

  “Who gives a—”

  “And even then, in order for them to become remotely ill, they’d have to stick a spoon in that mixture and eat it uncut. Now, dissolved in water as he’s proposing, you’d need—”

  Flynn stood. “Time to go, sweetheart,” he announced, yanking her from her seat.

  Jane let out a tiny squeak. “What are you doing?”

  “Saving your life.”

  Amid cheers, he snatched her up in his arms, popcorn flying in all directions, and hustled for the nearest exit. An instant later they emerged from the emergency exit into the parking lot. He set her down, ignoring her disgruntled expression. Gently, he removed a stray bit of popcorn from her hair.

  “Flynn?”

  “Yes, sweetheart?”

  “I think I remember why I don’t go to movies any longer,” she confessed.

  “Really?”

  “I’m afraid so. Movies are rarely logical and I have difficulty containing myself when I catch the flaws.”

  “Yeah, I sort of noticed that about you.”

  Her mouth curved downward. “They weren’t too happy with me, were they?”

  “Not even a little.” Unable to help himself, he chuckled. She blinked at him in surprise. Then her mouth quivered and she joined in. Grabbing her hand, he urged her toward the car. “Come on. We better get out of here before they lynch us.”

  * * *

  “YOU CAN’T MEAN I HAVE to leave my lab again?”

  Flynn shrugged. “That’s precisely what I mean.”

  “After what happened at the movie theater?”

  “I have to confess, that did give me second thoughts.”

  “Exactly.” Jane settled her glasses more firmly on her nose and peered at her computer screen. “Now, stop interrupting me. I have work to do.”

  “No, you have to come with me. You won’t be able to work, anyway, because Paulie has to—”

  She groaned. “Let me guess. He has to turn the power off.”

  “You got it.”

  Saving the information she’d recorded, she shut down her computer. “Where are we going now?”

  “I thought a walk with Dipstick might be safe enough.”

  She snorted. “He gets into almost as much trouble as I do.”

  “Then I’ll have to find a way to keep you both out of trouble.”

  He didn’t give her an opportunity to argue, and deciding she could use the time to get better acquainted with Flynn for her perfume experiments, she didn’t fuss too much. The stroll into town passed innocently enough. Once there, Flynn paused outside of every shop window he passed. Dipstick caught on almost immediately and followed Flynn’s example, pressing his nose against each glass pane. At the local five-and-dime, Flynn let out an exclamation of sheer pleasure while Dipstick barked encouragement.

  “Wait here,” he ordered. “I’ll be right back.”

  Slipping on her glasses, Jane peered closer at the window, trying to see what had caused such enthusiasm for man and beast. A few minutes later Flynn emerged with a small bag in hand. “What did you buy?” she couldn’t resist asking.

  “This is one of the few true pleasures of my youth.” He caught her hand in his and turned his smile on her—one she found more and more impossible to resist. “Come on. I’ll show you.”

  “What? Where are we going?”

  “To the park. You do have a park around here?”

  “It’s in the middle of town across from the police station.” She pointed. “That way.”

  As soon as they reached the tree-lined square, Flynn pulled Jane close. “What...?”

  “First thing we do is get rid of these.” The glasses were snatched from her nose, neatly folded and deposited in her lab coat pocket. “And next we take this off.”

  Before she could do more than voice a startled objection, he’d worked open the buttons of her lab coat and stripped it away. With due ceremony, he hung it over the back of a wooden bench.

  “Why did you do that?”

  “Because you can’t play dressed for work.”

  A smile quivered on her lips. “Is that what we’re going to do? Play?”

  “Yes.” He opened his paper bag and removed a Frisbee. “With this. Ever thrown one before?”

  She shook her head. “Not ever. But I have seen it done.”

  “Then this, my sweet Jane, is your lucky day.” He pointed to a spot a good distance away. “Run over there and I’ll throw it to you.”

  “Okay, fine.” She headed for the spot he’d indicated.

  “I said, run!”

  The Frisbee skimmed the top of her head, knocking loose a few curls from her hair clip, before sailing ahead of her. With an excited bark, Dipstick gave chase. Bounding across the grass, he made a magnificent leap and caught the disk in his mouth. Then he sat, proudly displaying his catch to Jane.

  “Show-off,” she muttered.

  Removing the Frisbee from his mouth, she threw it toward Flynn as hard as she knew how. It spun in the air and plopped to the ground two feet from her toes.

  “It’s broken,” she complained. “Dipstick broke it.”

  Flynn jogged over to her, shaking his head in disgust. “Dipstick didn’t break it. You don’t know how to throw.” He picked up the Frisbee and handed it to her. Circling around behind, he showed her how to hold the disk. “Start out with a gentle flick until you get the hang of it. Like this...”

  Guiding her through the motions, he sent the Frisbee soaring through the air. Dipstick gave chase once again, leaping into the air and catching the plastic disk in his mouth. Trotting back to them, he proudly deposited it at their feet.

  “Good boy.” Flynn rewarded the dog with a thorough scratching. “Now, let’s see if your mistress can do it.”

  Jane picked up the Frisbee and gave a couple of practice flicks without releasing it. Then she let it fly. It wobbled for an instant before sailing across the park, hooking sharply to the left. Flynn gave chase, catching it just before it hit the ground. Rolling, he flipped it back in her direction all in one smooth motion. S
he attempted to copy his movements, racing across the grass with outstretched hands. The Frisbee grazed her fingertips before slipping away.

  “That tears it.” She picked up the disk and sent it cartwheeling back to Flynn. Then she kicked off her shoes, rolled up her sleeves, hitched up her skirt and waited for him to send it back. “Okay, Jane,” she muttered. “It’s your turn now. We accept no excuses and take no prisoners. We’re catching that damn thing, no matter what it takes.”

  Flynn wound up and let loose. The Frisbee ripped toward her slightly to the right. She scampered after it, leaping at the last possible instant to snag it out of mid-air.

  “I did it. I did it!”

  Shrieking triumphantly, she did her best Rocky imitation, fists pumping the air, half dancing, half jogging onto a nearby picnic table, curls spilling loose around her temples. At the edge of the park, Mr. Keenan stood alongside Sheriff Tucker, staring at her in openmouthed astonishment. Their expressions made her laugh. She flung the Frisbee back toward Flynn. He gazed at her in smiling approval and Jane tried to convince herself that she didn’t need his approval. But it felt good. Too good.

  Soon she’d have to don her lab coat and slip on her glasses. Soon she’d have to turn back into the real Jane instead of the strange woman he’d released. Soon she’d have to remember the deal she’d made with Flynn and become the scientist studying her test subject.

  But not yet.

  “Come on, Flynn,” she shouted from her perch on the table. “This time make it tough.”

  * * *

  “YOU CAN’T WEAR A DRESS on a bike ride.” Flynn objected.

  “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve ridden a bike?”

  “Not a clue. How long?”

  Jane frowned in concentration. “I’m not sure I ever did. I think I fell off once and the uncles got so upset I never rode one again.” She offered an apologetic shrug. “I didn’t like doing anything that upset them.”

  “All the more reason to ride a bike now.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “I already told you. Because I don’t own any jeans.”

  “Somehow I knew you were going to say that.” He handed her a bag with the name of a local boutique scrawled across it. “That’s why I bought you these.”

  “Jeans?”

  “Jeans.”

  “But—”

  “No arguments. Go change into them before I’m tempted to help you.”

  She headed for the stairs in the front hallway. “Okay, I’ll do it. But I’m not happy. Not even a little. And I certainly don’t understand why Paulie needs to turn the electricity off so often. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were making it up.” She rounded on him, shaking her finger in his face. “If I find you’ve been lying to me, Flynn Morgan, I’m going to be very upset.”

  He swore beneath his breath. “Even if it’s for a good cause?”

  “I despise dishonest people, regardless of the reason.” She started up the steps. “And don’t think I haven’t heard that excuse before. For a good cause. For the betterment of science. Because I thought it was what you wanted to hear. Hah! A lie is a lie is a lie....”

  She rounded the corner out of view and Flynn rubbed a hand across his freshly shaven jaw. “Damn, but I’m in big trouble. A lie is a lie is a lie. Now what the hell do I do?”

  “They don’t fit!” she shouted down the steps a minute later.

  “Yes, they do.”

  “They’re tight.”

  “Why the hell did you think I bought them?” he muttered. He raised his voice. “They’ll loosen up once you’ve been wearing them for a while. Come on, the bikes are waiting.”

  “All right, but don’t laugh.”

  She came into view and Flynn decided laughing was the very last thing he’d be likely to do. He’d definitely been off on the fit, he decided as she trotted down the steps. Of course, he’d deliberately bought them on the small side just to give her a hard time. What he hadn’t realized was how incredible she’d look in skin-tight jeans. Jane Dearly had been hiding some extraordinary assets beneath those skirts of hers. Long, endless legs, moderately rounded thighs, hips that weren’t the least boyish and a slender waist had turned ordinary denim into the sexiest bit of equipment he’d seen in a long time.

  She marched past him to fetch another of her endless supply of lab coats and he silently groaned. His sweet chemist had the prettiest backside he’d ever seen stuffed into jeans. It was a crime against nature that she chose to cover all that up in shapeless dresses.

  “Let’s get out of here before I do something you’ll regret,” he said, heading for the door to take in a long draw of fresh air.

  For the next hour, Flynn managed to ignore Jane’s body, focusing instead on teaching her the rudiments of bike riding. Finally, triumphantly, she sailed down the sidewalk without losing her balance once. He watched with a bone-deep pleasure, aware that he hadn’t felt so relaxed or happy in... He shook his head. Forever. He couldn’t recall a single other time when he’d been himself around a woman. Natural. Open. Not constantly looking over his shoulder for trouble. He could let down his guard with Jane without fear or suspicion, and the realization scared the hell out of him.

  He trusted her. Damn. This was bad. Very bad. First the lies, then the jeans, and now this. What had gotten into him? He’d been acting strangely from the minute a certain red-spectacled, bun-haired, unworldly chemist had slammed the door in his face. Even swathed from head to toe in cotton he’d found Jane difficult to resist. But in tight jeans, with those pretty green eyes lit with excitement, and her cheeks pink from the effort of mastering a simple bicycle, he’d become a man he didn’t recognize.

  And he didn’t like it one little bit.

  People couldn’t be trusted—not even guileless bits of whimsy like Jane. The minute she found out about his scam, he’d be kissing wood again, her door slammed firmly in his face. Not that it mattered. He wouldn’t do for a woman like her. She needed someone who’d take care of her when she lost herself in work, who’d tempt her out of her lab and into the real world, who’d make it his life’s mission to tease smiles from her lips and gift each one with a soul-deep kiss. To give her the children she feared so she’d know that she’d been perfectly made for motherhood.

  She rode toward him, grinning. “How do I look?” she asked as she whizzed past, pumping hard on the pedals.

  “From this angle?” He sighed in sheer pleasure. “Magnificent.”

  To his amusement, her spine stiffened and she took a quick peek over her shoulder, no doubt to see what he found so magnificent. It was a mistake. She plowed straight into a boxwood hedge and landed magnificence-down in the fragrant bushes.

  Flynn sighed, loping down the sidewalk to lend a hand. This had to stop. Time to get himself under control. Time to put their relationship back onto a professional footing where it belonged before Paulie decided to lend him a helping fist.

  Time to get to work.

  * * *

  JANE FOUND FLYNN SPRAWLED in the middle of her backyard. She couldn’t say what had distracted her from work and drawn her from the lab. After all, it was the first day in ages that he hadn’t interrupted her, insisting on one of his crazy outings. Nor had Paulie disturbed her with hammering or drilling or endless questions. The quiet had driven her crazy.

  Curious to see what Flynn was doing, she knelt alongside, intrigued to discover him watching a stream of carpenter ants. “Now you’ve really floored me.”

  “Every once in a while you have to stop and take a look around,” he explained. “Remember what it feels like to view the world from a fresh perspective instead of with jaded cynicism.”

  She stared at his bent head, understanding with bittersweet compassion where that comment had originated. She knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he’d never had the opportunity as a child to laze in the grass beneath a summer sky and watch in fascination as a line of ants marched p
ast his nose. She had, thanks to her uncles and their rather eclectic teaching methods. On more occasions than she could count. But then, she hadn’t played Frisbee or mastered a bicycle until Flynn had come along.

  She flung herself down beside him and folded her arms beneath her chin. “Sheriff Tucker wanted me to develop a bug poison to kill his ants,” she offered.

  “Sheriff Tucker is a man of keen insight when it comes to his fellow humans,” he surprised her by saying. “But he’s a bit lacking in appreciation of some of the finer creatures that have been put on this earth.”

  “I didn’t know you’d met him.”

  “We have a passing acquaintance. But it’s enough to realize that he assumes others are on the same wavelength as he is. I imagine it could be difficult to disabuse him of that notion.”

  “I guess that explains why I was so confused,” she murmured.

  “Confused about what?”

  “Well... He never actually explained he wanted a poison. He just requested bug spray.”

  Flynn didn’t say a word, but when she glanced over at him, she noticed his shoulders were shaking in a rather suspicious manner. “Let me guess,” he eventually said. “He had every bug imaginable come crawling.”

  “Something like that. He wasn’t too happy with me.”

  “I imagine not.”

  The silence drifted between them for a while, comfortable and lazy. She hated disturbing it, but some things were inevitable. “I thought I should warn you that I’m about to enter the next phase of my experiments.”

  “You’ve been experimenting? I hadn’t noticed.”

  “Yes, well. There was the survey.” She slanted him a quick, nervous glance. “You might recall that, since you didn’t like it much. And I considered having you fill out a questionnaire, too, but decided against it. The last group of subjects didn’t take it too well, so I figured you wouldn’t, either.”

  “Subjects,” he repeated, without turning his head. “Is that how you think of me? As a subject?”

  For some reason, his question disturbed her, which was ridiculous since a person only reacted emotionally when their feelings were engaged. And hers weren’t. Not even a little. “That’s how I have to think of you,” she insisted, “if I don’t want to contaminate the results.”