Charlie's eyes widened. Was she seriously expecting to go over or around his ball? He'd practiced both the swerve and the jump, but he didn't feel confident about either of those shots. If she did ... then she was way out of his league.
Sure enough, she lifted the butt end of that jump cue and came down on the cue ball with the stroke of an expert.
Charlie let out a low whistle as the cue ball traced a semicircle around his ball, hit her ball, and drove it into the side pocket. "Where the hell did you learn how to play pool like that?"
"From my dad. He was a hotshot bar player back in the seventies."
"I'll just bet he was." Charlie watched as the inevitable happened and Eve dropped the eight ball neatly into the corner pocket. He didn't like losing, but at least he'd lost to a worthy opponent. "Congratulations."
She smiled at him as she returned his custom cue to the rack. "Thanks."
He hung on to the house stick. "So much for me getting that explanation, though. How about best two out of three?"
"I might beat you again."
He certainly believed that. "Then we can move on to best three out of five. Who knows, I could get lucky." Then he heard himself. "At pool. Lucky at pool."
"I knew that's what you meant." She gazed at him. "But it might not work, you know."
His hopes faded. "And you don't feel like hanging around."
"Well, yes, I do. But you don't have to beat me at pool to get an explanation. I—"
The front door of the tavern opened with a loud bang and three men came in, laughing and joking as they stomped snow off their shoes.
At first Charlie was irritated by the intrusion. Talk about your lousy timing. Then he took a closer look at the men. No. Couldn't be. But it was. In the lead was none other than his cousin Rick, who was supposed to be in L.A.
Charlie hadn't seen Rick in more than a year, but he hadn't changed much. He was still tanned and fit, his brown hair streaked either by the sun or a hairdresser. Rick would never say which. In any case, the sun was beginning to trace crow's-feet around Rick's lady-killer brown eyes. Still, the guy looked good. He always had.
"Surprise!" Rick grabbed Charlie's hand, pulled him into a quick hug and turned him loose. "Bet you didn't expect to see me walk through that door, today, cuz!"
"Nope, sure didn't. I pictured you lying on the beach at Malibu next to Heidi Klum." Charlie battled the conflicting emotions he always felt when Rick was around. Charlie was only two months older, so they'd grown up like brothers, alternating between loyal friendship and bitter rivalry. Back when they were teenagers, Rick always got the girls and Charlie always got the grades.
"Lying on the beach?" Rick laughed. "Don't I wish! Instead I have to scout out a location for a winter fashion spread."
"Does anyone know you're in town?" Charlie was aware of Eve standing back by the pool table. Soon common courtesy would dictate that he bring her into the conversation, and he didn't want to. Rick would change the dynamic.
"I stopped at the bakery," Rick said. "Mom and Aunt Rose told me you'd be over here. Listen, we have to talk about that bakery, man. But first, let me introduce you to my assistants. This here's Manny Flores and the short dude is Kyle Harrington."
Charlie shook hands with each of them. Manny was tall and rangy, a mix of Hispanic and Anglo, while Kyle was short and compact, a Doug Flutie type who looked as if he would be quick on his feet. Rick must be doing well if he had two assistants trailing him around.
And now Charlie was obliged to introduce Eve. "This is Eve Dupree," he said. "Eve, this is my cousin Rick Bannister."
As Eve came forward, Rick flashed his very white smile. "Eve? I thought it looked like you! We did that Chico's shoot together at Dana Point about four, maybe five years ago. Yeah, I think it was five, come to think of it. Time flies, and all that."
Charlie sighed. It figured that Rick would know her, which gave him an even bigger advantage. Charlie took some comfort in the fact that Eve's face didn't light up right away, though.
Instead she gazed thoughtfully at Rick as if trying to pin down the occasion. "Was that the time we got rained out and all ended up in a little bar drinking wine for two hours?"
'That's it." Rick stepped forward and held out his hand. "It's great to see you again. Small world, huh?"
"Sure is." Eve shook his hand. Then Rick repeated the introduction of his two assistants, and Eve shook their hands, too.
Obviously Rick was damned proud of those assistants, since he kept introducing them every five minutes. Charlie had to admit it was impressive, traveling with a retinue. Strangely enough, Eve didn't seem all that impressed. She acted hesitant, almost wary of Rick.
Charlie hoped that wasn't because they'd had a thing going on during that Dana Point shoot. Rick was famous for getting horizontal with the models. Charlie didn't want to believe Eve had been one of Rick's conquests.
"You know what I remember from that time we spent in the bar?" Rick said.
Charlie didn't think he wanted to hear this.
"Heaven knows." Eve laughed nervously. "After two glasses of wine, no telling what I might have said."
Now Charlie really didn't want to hear it.
"You got very serious," Rick said. "And then you told me that you felt as if modeling were a waste of your life. You said if you ever had the time and the space, you'd create a laboratory and invent a manned hovercraft that ran on veggie scraps. I never forgot that. What a concept."
Charlie stared at Eve. Judging from her red face, he knew what had caused the explosion in her garage. So Rick had heard all about it five years ago. Charlie's jaw clenched. Some things never changed. When it came to women, Rick was ahead of the game every damned time. And Charlie was sick of playing second fiddle.
Chapter Three
Well, shit. The minute Eve had figured out who Puck was, she'd remembered that conversation they'd had over wine all those years ago. She wasn't in the habit of talking about her dreams and schemes, but that day she'd been frustrated by the delays in the shooting schedule and had seriously begun to question whether she was throwing her life away just because the money was good.
Somewhere into the second glass of wine she'd started talking to Rick about her idea for a hovercraft. She'd thought about that conversation several times in the years since. Turned out it had germinated and flowered into a viable life plan. Breaking up with Lyle had been the first step in getting back to something she loved.
She didn't regret that talk with Rick because it had started her thinking again after several years of being mentally asleep. At the time he'd seemed like a safe person to confide in, someone who lived on the other side of the country, someone who didn't know she'd flunked out of high school and wasn't considered particularly bright by her family. He hadn't laughed when she'd suggested that powering the hovercraft with veggie fuel could make a real contribution toward solving the world's oil crisis.
But she wished Rick hadn't shown up and exposed her secret just now. Charlie, a guy she was becoming increasingly fond of, didn't look happy about that, not happy at all. She didn't blame him. She should have told him sooner, before he'd had to find out this way.
She'd also rather not discuss it while they all stood in the middle of this very public tavern. A quick glance at the bar told her that Archie had gone in the back and probably hadn't heard Rick mention the hovercraft. But Manny and Kyle were all ears.
"It's strictly experimental." She lowered her voice. "It may never get out of my garage. I'm just—"
"So you are building it!" Rick turned to Charlie. "I'll bet you're helping her, aren't you?"
Charlie looked at Eve, his expression stormy. "Well, you see, I didn't—"
"I would love some help, Charlie," Eve said. "There are definite gaps in my knowledge when it comes to the electrical system. I'm pretty much self-taught, and it would mean a lot if you'd check out my wiring."
"I'd be glad to."
He said it so quickly that she had no doubt he w
as thrilled to be asked. Being asked to help might make up for not being told about the hovercraft earlier. She let out a breath. Maybe this wouldn't turn into a complete disaster.
But she needed to move this party elsewhere. The workday was over in Middlesex, so happy hour could begin any time. A couple of guys in jeans and flannel shirts had just come through the door and were headed over to the bar. She thought Charlie had noticed them, but Rick seemed oblivious.
"I'd like to get a look at that thing, myself," Rick said.
She edged closer to the door. "I'm trying to keep the project under wraps. Until now, I haven't told anybody about it except my neighbor Eunice, and she's sworn to keep it secret. It may never work, so there's no point in making a laughingstock of myself, right?"
"I doubt that's going to happen," Rick said. "You're one smart woman. If you're building a hovercraft, then I'll bet good money that it'll work."
Eve winced and hoped the two guys at the bar hadn't heard that. Maybe she'd better take steps to contain the information within the circle of people who already knew. "Tell you what. I only live three blocks away. Why don't we head over to my place and I'll show you what I have so far?"
"Sounds good," Rick said. "I rented a Subaru, so we can all ride over in that. Unless Charlie wants to follow on his bike."
"I'll ride with you," Charlie said quickly, as if unwilling to be odd man out.
After Charlie and Eve grabbed their coats, everyone left the tavern. Eve gave Rick the address as she climbed into the passenger seat. That left Charlie, Manny, and Kyle crammed into the backseat. Good thing it was only three blocks, because nobody looked comfy back there.
As the shortest, Kyle got the middle, and Charlie ended up behind Eve. He helped the crush of broad shoulders by leaning forward and talking to her through the little space between the seat and the door panel.
"What kind of silhouette did you go with?" he asked.
"Round," she said. "I wanted it to be multidirectional and aerodynamic."
"I'm picturing a Frisbee," Rick said.
Charlie ignored him, leaning closer so he could talk more directly with Eve. "So I'm assuming you decided on fiberglass?"
"Right." She twisted her body and talked as best she could through the narrow opening. "Although the choice was made for me, in a way. I found a flying-saucer prototype on eBay, and the hull was fiberglass."
From the driver's seat came a chuckle. "A fiberglass Frisbee," Rick said. "Catchy. You could call it that."
"With fiberglass you wouldn't need as much thrusting power to give it forward momentum," Charlie said.
Eve nodded. "Fiberglass is great, but I'm still dealing with the safety angle. Right now it's too fragile to withstand much of an impact. When the engine on my workbench exploded this afternoon, I was lucky that no pieces hit the frame."
Rick braked at a four-way stop. "You exploded something?" He sounded worried.
"A little glitch with the biofuel," Eve said. "Listen, Charlie, before you agree to help me, you might as well hear about the fuel situation. You're liable to think I'm completely bonkers to consider it."
"I'll help," Rick said as he pulled through the intersection. "Even before I hear about the fuel situation. Unless you're running gerbils around in a wire cage. I'm against that as a fuel source. So's the ASPCA. I—"
"I'm making the fuel myself," Eve said.
"Excellent." Charlie's tone conveyed total approval.
Eve had expected doubt and disbelief. Instead she was getting praise. It was a heady experience. "I also have a tank of hydrogen that I may end up using, but—"
"Isn't that what they had in that blimp that exploded a long time ago?" Rick said. "The photos of that were awesome."
"I don't want to use hydrogen if I can help it," Eve said. "I'm... exploring the option of using biomass as a feedstock for ethanol. My idea is to use the hovercraft as a fun teaching tool, to show people we don't have to depend on oil as a fuel source."
"Cool." Charlie sounded excited.
"If biomass has something to do with the Catholic church, I'm in trouble." Rick said. "I am so lapsed."
Eve decided to take her cue from Charlie and ignore Rick's comments. "I'm using my own kitchen scraps," she said. "Leftover veggies from the salads I make all the time. I want to make fuel options easily accessible."
"There you go," Rick said. "At last, a legitimate use for broccoli stalks."
Then it came to her—Rick wasn't used to being left out of a conversation, especially one that included a woman. Well, too bad. Charlie was the man of the moment, and she intended to concentrate on him.
"So what are you doing for a converter?" Charlie asked.
"I designed my own."
"Wow." Charlie blew out a breath. "That's amazing. Good for you."
"But the mixture I'm getting may be too rich for the engine I bought. I have a small rotary. Or had, past tense. It's destined for the landfill, now."
"I love rotary engines," Charlie said. "Inspired choice."
"Thank you." Good thing she was flexible, because she had to twist around to carry on this conversation properly. She leaned her cheek against the headrest. "I was so afraid you'd laugh at the whole thing. I've read tons of books and taken a bunch of online courses, but I don't have an engineering degree like you, so there may be some structural—"
"We're here," Rick said. "All out for the incredible hovercraft show."
"I'm sure it's going to be great," Charlie murmured through the opening, before he unsnapped his seat belt. "Absolutely great."
"Thanks. That means a lot to me." As she climbed out of the Subaru, Eve realized she was very turned on. She hadn't known how much she'd craved this kind of enthusiastic endorsement. She'd thought that inventing something all by herself had given her more creative freedom.
Maybe it had, but she'd also had to battle her doubts alone, and many times she'd wondered if she was totally crazy. Or maybe she was just plain arrogant to believe that her little toy had the power to revolutionize the fuel economy.
Yet in her heart of hearts, she did believe that. For a concept to take hold, it needed a fun factor. The hovercraft, running on alternative fuel, would be that fun factor.
Finally having someone validate her decisions meant the world to her. She liked that the someone had turned out to be Charlie, who was getting hotter by the minute. Brains could be so damned sexy.
As she ushered everyone inside, she thought briefly of her lack of housekeeping skills and then decided not to worry about it. These were bachelors. Bachelors weren't neat. Well, maybe Charlie was. She'd turn on only necessary lights as she took them from the front door through the kitchen to the garage.
"Don't mind the mess." She said that mostly for Charlie's benefit, in case he was a neat freak. "The cleaning lady comes tomorrow." That wasn't precisely true. She hadn't hired a cleaning lady yet because she didn't want someone from Middlesex gossiping about the fuel converter in her kitchen or the purple spacecraft in her garage.
On Mondays she usually shoveled out the worst of the clutter and ran a vacuum around, but today she'd been too involved with testing her fuel to think of it. Leading the way through the dark hall to the kitchen, she flipped on a light so they wouldn't bang against things on their way to the garage.
Whoops. She'd completely forgotten about her Victoria's Secret underwear. Because her washing machine was on the fritz, she'd handwashed her bras and panties in the kitchen sink last night. Then she'd draped them over the kitchen chairs.
Most models she knew wouldn't have cared a bit if a bunch of guys caught sight of their underwear drying in the kitchen. But Eve was shy. Always had been and probably always would be.
She didn't do lingerie ads for that very reason. Still, she loved fancy undies, especially in vibrant colors like red, purple, and jade, all of which were represented in her kitchen right now. And she was blushing. Damn it.
She paused, trying desperately to think of something clever and sophisticated to
say. Meanwhile all four men stood staring at the colorful and intimate display. No witty words came to her.
Charlie was the first to speak. "Oh, wow."
She gulped. If Charlie, the man she most wanted to impress, made some comment about her lingerie lying around, she might die of embarrassment.
He cleared his throat. "I've seen something similar, but never quite like that."
Rick laughed. "Cuz, you really need to get out more."
"I'd like a closer look." Charlie started toward the table.
Yes, she would definitely die of embarrassment. Charlie wasn't content to gaze on her underwear from a distance. He wanted to scrutinize it up close, probably analyze the structural capability of the elastic and underwire.
She searched for a way to end this excruciating moment. "Hey, let's not forget about the hovercraft." She forced a smile. "Isn't that what you guys came to see? Let's go on out to the garage and check it out!"
"In a minute," Charlie said. "First I want to examine ..."
"Charlie." She couldn't bear this another second.
"... your converter." He brushed past a purple bra as if he hadn't even seen it. Then he crouched down beside the large stainless steel contraption she'd rigged up—thanks to more finds on eBay—to distill her fuel. "This is wild, Eve. Absolutely wild."
Rick shook his head. "Charlie, you are such a nerd."
And that, Eve realized, was why she found Charlie irresistible.
The discussion with Eve in the car had stimulated every one of Charlie's nerve endings, including the ones connected to the playground equipment below his belt. Some guys got excited when a woman talked dirty. Charlie got excited when a woman talked nerdy.
Discovering this side of Eve was like opening up the wall of a cute little cottage and finding it wired to support NASA's flight center. It got him hot.
Now this underwear display had added jet fuel to the blaze. Surrounded by Eve's lingerie, he couldn't help but imagine her wearing those jewel like pieces of silk and lace, and his brain was on tilt. Or maybe it was the blood draining south that made him so fuzzy that all he could think about was hot, sweaty sex. With Eve.
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