The Nerd Who Loved Me
Liz Talley
Fast Fiction Romantic - short stories with a Happy Ever AfterTen years ago, Howard Donald Long II was run out of Bonnet Creek by vicious lies, his practice, family and life nearly destroyed by the dirty allegations of one family—the Rodrigues. Now, Howard Long III, known as Tripp, is back to clear his father's name, and he's got the money and the muscles to do it.Then he runs into Mary Belle Prudhomme. She'd been his closest friend as a kid, until they grew up, developed hormones and she rejected him. For Bear Rodrigue. She's still every fantasy he ever had come to life, yet now she seems vulnerable, alone. Tripp reaches out to her, and they find the easy connection they had when they were kids, as well as something more—forgiveness.
The Nerd Who Loved Me
Liz Talley
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Contents
Title Page (#ue5243c86-2378-5f73-806e-871fe964a8b7)
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ubba4fdf2-dfab-533c-88ba-8b6265e61689)
Mary Belle Prudhomme let her forehead hit the steering wheel before cracking open an eye. Yep. Smoke was pouring from beneath the blue hood of her old truck.
Craptastic.
Five miles from home, and her stupid cell phone as dead as the grass bordering the seldom-used back road. And to make matters worse, she’d left the car charger for her phone in Bear Rodrigue’s truck over a month ago. Now she wished she’d spent thirty bucks on a new one instead of that pair of boots she’d decided she deserved for putting up with Bear’s crap for years. They were cute rain boots patterned with little duckies. But, of course, cute boots did not fix smoking engines.
“Thanks a lot, Beast,” she muttered to her car, climbing from the cab and giving the front tire a half-hearted kick. “You just had to die miles away from civilization.”
She popped the hood and fanned the smoke that poured out.
As if on cue, a sleek convertible pulled up beside her.
Wariness prickled at the nape of her neck, but then she caught sight of the driver—broad shoulders, dark hair, tan skin and a pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses.
A knight in a white Beamer.
Sweet.
“Need some help?” the knight called, his reliable car taunting her dented beast of a truck.
“Uh, maybe,” she said, knowing very well she did, but not wanting to admit it in case the knight was really a deranged mental-hospital escapee. But would a mental-hospital escapee drive a BMW and look like an ad for Yachting World?
Her knight, aka mental-hospital escapee, maneuvered his car to the shoulder, hopped out and headed toward her.
Hmmm…khakis, polo shirt and Top-Siders.
Maybe he was a banker on vacation…
In Evangeline parish? Not a hope.
“Let me see what I can do.” He stopped beside her and peered at the hissing metal parts beneath her hood, giving her a whiff of his cologne. The smell reminded her of champagne and other rich people stuff.
Then he extended a hand toward some part of the engine and she noticed how nice his forearms were—brown and strong-looking—and that his hands were drool-worthy. If, you know, a girl were into those kinds of things.
“I’m no expert, but I’m pretty sure it’s your radiator,” he said, taking off his sunglasses.
“The radiator?” she repeated stupidly as she turned and met his gaze.
And that’s when she recognized him.
Oh, no. Way worse than an escaped mental patient. In fact she’d have thrown a party with balloons and confetti if it had been a deranged madman with a hook for a hand rather than him.