“This is your thirty-fifth attempt to elicit an emotional response from me.” —Spock

CHAPTER TWELVE

Tuesday, September 2

When I handed Dallas my list of hero categories for our database, I wasn’t sure who was more embarrassed, him or me. I’d asked him to add a new database field for hero types because I had a genius idea about creatively shelving the books.

He texted me during my first period class: “Rakes of the 19th century. Category name: Tools.”

That made me giggle, earning a disapproving glare from my teacher.

The next text arrived about ten minutes later. “Military dudes w/tats. Category: Guns with big guns.” I rolled my eyes, deciding not to reply.

Fifteen minutes later he sent another text. “Billionaires who want babies? WTH? Category: no clue.”

That one made me snort with laughter, earning another teacher glare.

I waited until lunch to text him back. “I thought you didn’t swear. Where r u finding this stuff?”

“WTH not swearing. Finding stuff is easy. Blog-stalking.”

“Uh oh.”

“What’s up?” Jaz asked around a bite of potato chip.

I sighed. “Dallas is cyber-stalking.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Seriously? He doesn’t seem like the creepy type.” She paused. “Though he did know a lot about Fisk.”

“Not creepy stalking. Blog stalking.”

Jaz gave me a knowing smile. “Uh-huh. Wonder why?” She nudged Amy, who watched me with her own speculative smile.

“He’s become obsessed with sub-genres. He’s amazed at the variety, especially for romance books.”

Jaz and Amy shared a look. “I don’t think it’s the books he’s obsessed with,” Jaz said.

“Don’t go there,” I warned. “What if he finds my review site?” It would be worse than when he saw the bow-chick-a-wow-wow dance.

Amy sipped her tea. “He’ll never figure it out. There are tons of review blogs and you don’t use your real name.”

Nodding, I took a bite of my sandwich. I hoped she was right. I suspected he’d tease me mercilessly if he ever found it.

“Don’t worry,” Amy said. “We won’t tell him, right, Jaz?”

Jaz smirked. “Right. Entertaining as that would be, I’ll maintain the girl code of honor.”

“Look, he’s smart, but not that smart,” Amy said. “You use an avatar, not your photo. No name. No city. Nothing to give it away.”

I forced a smile. “You’re probably right.” But the truth was, if anyone could figure it out, it was Dallas.

My phone buzzed on the table. “Ghosts?? How does that work? Category: Caspers.” I giggled, then shoved my phone in my bag. I could not do this with him.

Jaz shook her head in disgust. “It’s like a bad movie, watching you pretend you don’t like him.”

It wasn’t easy to ignore his texts the rest of the day, but I did. I’d see him later at the store anyway, which my hormones weren’t about to let me forget.

...

“Oh my God. We’re so sorry, Vivian.” Amy raced up to the bookstore counter, her face pinched with worry.

“Dude, please don’t kill us,” Jaz said, glancing over her shoulder as if she was being followed. “It was a total accident. We didn’t know he was standing there.” She locked eyes with Amy. “What is he, like a ninja assassin or what? I totally thought it was just us waiting for our mochas.”

“I know, right? Then all of a sudden, wham! He was right there.” Amy nodded vigorously. She thrust a to-go cup toward me. “Mint chocolate mocha. Peace offering.”

I took the cup warily. “Peace offering for what? You guys are acting crazy.”

They shared a look that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

“It’s Dallas,” Jaz said. “He knows about your RC mission.”

“What!” I screeched so loudly all the customers turned to stare at us. “What do you mean?” I whispered, after everyone had gone back to book browsing.

“We were waiting for our drinks at the Bean,” Amy said. “Making small talk.”

I frowned at her. “Small talk about me? You call discussing my secret and personal information small talk?”

Amy could never lie under oath; her face gave away everything. “Okay, so not small talk. But we were sort of…discussing…”

“Arguing,” Jaz interrupted. “About how crazy you are. About how all guys on your list are terrible matches for you.”

“Except Toff,” Amy said. “I was saying he’s probably the best one on the list…” Her voice faded away, and she took a long swig of her drink, her cheeks turning slightly pink.

“And I was joking about Iggy being an excellent GBF, but that he’d never be the guy you want to sneak to the beach with after dark.”

Waves of anxiety roiled through me. I didn’t like where this was going.

“You mean…wait…are you telling me…”

They nodded like twin bobble heads. “Dallas heard everything. He was standing behind us the whole time.”

“No.” I refused to believe it. Just because he’d stood behind them didn’t mean he’d overheard them. Though Jaz was a loud talker. “No, no, no. This can’t be happening. How could you let this happen? Are you positive he was listening?”

Amy’s eyes widened. “Of course he was.”

Holy. Crapoli.

Jaz straightened her shoulders. “We asked him about the Vulcan thing since you two seem to live in some parallel Trekkie universe. So we asked if he thought a person could be logical about who they fell in love with.”

I fell into my chair, all feeling leaving my body. This was a nightmare. Dallas was due here any minute and now he knew about the RC mission? If I sunk deep enough into this chair, would it swallow me?

“He said it was highly unlikely,” Amy said. “He said something about even Spock giving in to his human side sometimes.”

“Weird,” Jaz said. “But he looks cute when he talks about Star Trek. Sort of how you and Amy get when you talk about books.”

I groaned. “What else did you tell him?”

“Everything?” Amy whispered, but I knew it wasn’t a question.

“Everything?” My voice was barely audible. “Even about Jake?”

“No,” Jaz said. “But when we said it was your replacement mission he said, ‘Oh, replacement for Jake,’ like he already knew.” Jaz frowned. “Did you tell him about Jake?”

I shook my head. “He’s just…observant.” I remembered how he’d brought me the smoothie after Jake and Claire had left the store, when I’d run to the bathroom so he wouldn’t see me cry.

I was embarrassed. And in that moment, I was pissed. “Do you guys even remember what the girl code says? Or the BFF code? You just violated every major rule! How could you do this to me, Jaz?” I saw the hurt flash in her eyes, and I knew that I wasn’t being entirely fair. We’d been friends long enough that I should be used to this type of thing, but I just couldn’t believe she’d been so careless.

The door swung open and Dallas walked in, carrying two cups. He stilled when he saw the three of us.

“Just go,” I whispered. Then, to defuse the tension, I added, “I will kill you both later. In your sleep. I’ll ask my mom for the best poison so I don’t get caught.”

“Don’t take it out on him,” Jaz whispered back. “Remember he’s like Clark Kent. He’ll get all flustered if you’re mad at him.”

Before I could respond, she grabbed Amy’s arm and they bolted, sneaking through the kitchen to avoid Dallas.

Oh. My. God. They were traitors. Horrible, despicable traitors who I’d never speak to again.

Dallas didn’t say anything as he stashed his stuff under the desk. He set a smoothie cup next to me and settled in his chair.

“Thanks,” I muttered. I slid him a five dollar bill. I wasn’t taking any more smoothie gifts from him. No way.

He ignored the money and started typing.

I wondered how I’d possibly endure the rest of the afternoon working with him. Plus, he was staying late so we could start inventory, just the two of us.

Maybe I could fake a seizure and he’d call an ambulance. It might be less embarrassing.

“Just gonna put this in the fridge for later,” I said, scooting back my chair and grabbing the smoothie. Once in the safety of the store kitchen, I tried to think of a plan, but nothing came. All I felt was overwhelming mortification. If I were starring in my own romance novel, I’d come up with a flippant one-liner that would make me seem confident and not at all concerned with what he thought.

But this was real life, and the only word that came was, “Help!”

...

“What’s this sub-genre? Werewolf dudes?” Dallas waved a book in front of his face. We were the only ones in the store since he’d made good on his promise to stick around after closing for inventory. We’d barely spoken all afternoon but now that the customers were gone, Dallas had decided to talk.

Maybe I should joke with him. If I pretended he didn’t know about my list, maybe he’d pretend, too.

Taking a deep breath, I glanced at the book and rolled my eyes. “Can you even read?” I teased, trying to force a laugh into my voice. “Obviously it’s angels. List it under Lucifers and Gabriels.”

He held my gaze for the first time today, making my pulse flutter. Then he flipped the book around to stare at the cover. “But he has a werewolf tattoo. And pointy ears.”

I put my hands on my hips and faked major annoyance. “His tattoo is the sign of his angelic tribe. Try reading the blurbs. And his ears are totally normal.”

“Why didn’t we start with the mysteries? Or the sci-fi?” he asked, giving me an innocent look full of mocking laughter.

Okay, I could do this. “Because I own this category.” I paused. “Dude.”

He slanted me a crooked smile that made me reach for my water bottle.

“Fine.” His shoulders lifted in a shrug. “But it’s going to take me forever to figure out which weird sub-genres all of these fit into. Maybe you could sort them by sub-genre and I’ll enter the data.”

“That’s actually a genius idea,” I said.

“Well, I am a professional, after all.”

I snorted, and he laughed softly.

“Focus, Vivian, focus.” Spock’s warning voice stilled the butterflies in my stomach. Thank God I had a homework date with Henry tomorrow. Well, not a date exactly. I’d asked him for pre-calc help, even though I didn’t need it.

“After I finish this stack, I’ll start sorting into sub-genres,” I told Dallas. “Then you can do the data entry.”

He nodded, fingers flying over the keyboard. “What other hero categories do we need?” he asked, not looking up. “Do you have one for the GBF? Like your number one replacement crush target?”

All my breath whooshed out of me. So much for pretending he didn’t know about my list. Just go with it, a voice said in my head. Not Spock’s voice. Should I actually trust myself instead of Spock?

“Iggy doesn’t get his own category in our database,” I said, willing my blush to fade. “Besides that’s not a real category since there’s no chance for an HEA.”

He turned toward me and tugged his hair. “A what?”

“HEA. Happily Ever After. Or HFN. Happy for Now.”

He gaped at me. “You’re kidding.”

I cocked an eyebrow, trying to look stern. “Romance is serious business. No ones wants to be let down by a jerk hero.”

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his magnificent chest, watching me with a smirk. “So I’ve heard.”

Heat flooded my face as I turned back to my screen. “Anyway. No, we don’t need a GBF category.”

“So what sub-sub-sub-genre does your next RC target fit into? Since Iggy can’t deliver in the happily ever after category.”

My fingers froze over the keyboard. Now that he knew about my list, he wasn’t going to drop it. Slowly, I spun my chair to face him. “My situation is different. I’m not looking for an HEA, or even an HFN.”

He tilted his head, looking confused. “You’re not looking for someone who can make you happy? What are you looking for?”

I forced a shrug. “Smart and funny.”

“But smart and funny won’t make you happy.” He sounded baffled.

“It will make the replacement…tolerable.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re not making sense.”

Should I tell him the other criteria? Was I freaking insane? On the other hand, maybe if he thought I was crazy he’d stop bugging me about my list.

“Okay, so the most important criteria is…” I took a breath and stared at my lap. “He can’t have…I can’t feel…” God, I was blowing this. I snuck a glance. He hadn’t moved, sitting like a statue with his stupid cello-muscled arms crossed over his stupid Superman chest, his eyes fixed on me.

“No, um, zing. No chemistry. None at all.” The words spilled out in a rush.

He looked at me as if I’d grown a second head. I guess his hormones wouldn’t even consider looking for someone without zing. He shifted in his chair, leaning back slightly, his fingers clenched over his Superman biceps. I turned away and typed gibberish. I’d fix it later, but right now I had to look anywhere but at him.

“You really are trying to be a Vulcan.” He sounded surprised. “I thought that was a joke.”

I shook my head, still typing gibberish. “No joke.”

His chair squeaked as he spun back to his own computer. “Even Spock gave in a few times. He was half human, you know. Remember that science chick? Have you seen that episode?”

“Yes,” I said, “but that wasn’t by choice. It was those weird spores that made him…um, hormonal.” Maybe that was my problem. Alien spores activating my lust genes.

“Whatever.” Dallas shook his head in disgust. “At least he didn’t deny his feelings.”

I twisted my hands in my lap. “But Spock left her when Kirk beamed him back to the ship. Spock crushed her heart. He never should’ve lost control. He hurt her, Dallas.” I wouldn’t let that happen to me.

Dallas cocked an eyebrow at me. “What about the Pon farr? The seven-year…um…mating ritual? Talk about losing control.”

Uh oh. Dallas knew way more about the original series than I did. My skin tingled just thinking about mating rituals while sitting so close to Dallas.

“I don’t know that one, but I’m done talking about it. This is my plan, and you weren’t even supposed to know about it.”

I jumped up and escaped to the shelves, piling books into stacks by hero category, lingering briefly over the small stack of geeky hero books. It wasn’t how books were usually shelved but I had a feeling customers might like it. I shoved the small stack of nerd-hero books in the bottom of a box, then stacked a bunch of SWAT-team alpha hero books on top.

I brought the box to the desk and plopped it next to my computer. I’d do the data entry for these; I didn’t want Dallas seeing the nerd ones.

An annoyed meow startled me from the vicinity of Dallas’s lap. I turned, shocked to see Hiddles curled onto Dallas’s denim-clad thighs.

“What the—? Where’d you find him?”

Dallas shot me a wry smile while rubbing Hiddles’s ears. “He found me.”

“But…but he hates people,” I sputtered.

He shrugged, still petting the cat, whose eyes were contented slits.

“Wait.” I leaned closer. “Is that purring?” Dallas and I locked eyes. I was definitely invading his personal space. I could smell his sexy eau de nerd scent, and if I wanted to, I’d just have to lean a little closer to taste his lips… I straightened so quickly I knocked into the box, sending books spilling onto the floor. Hiddles bolted off Dallas’s lap, sending me an angry hiss before disappearing into the darkened store.

Alien hormone spores had struck again.

Dallas knelt on the floor, carefully stacking the books back into the box. “Not sure what order these were in.” He paused, eyeing a cover. Oh no. The guy on the cover was grinning, holding a calculator. Even worse, he wore glasses. He was hot, though. Most definitely nerd-hot, as indicated by the title, Unexpected Calculations.

Dallas raised his eyes to mine. “Are there more books…like this?” I heard the suppressed laughter in his voice.

“Like what?” I feigned ignorance.

His lips curved into a sexy smile. “More books with…um…geeky heroes.”

I dropped my eyes. No point lying because he’d just Google it. “Yes. It’s a sub-genre. Nerd-hot.” I knew my face must be the color of the fire extinguisher stashed under the desk.

He picked up another book with a cover of a super hot guy wearing a lab coat. He chuckled softly and stacked it on top of the accountant. “I have the perfect category name.”

“What?”

“McNerds.”

My knees wobbled slightly, and I sank into my chair. “Didn’t my mom say she’d buy us dinner?”

“Yep.” He stopped stacking books and grinned at me. “That’s another category for you. Sexy delivery guys.”

I grabbed a rubber band and shot it at him. “Shut up.”

He shot it back, laughing. “Why not? It could work. Maybe those UPS uniforms tear off when the guys shape shift into werewolves.”

What was it I’d said about not wanting witty banter? I cleared my throat. “No. A delivery guy wouldn’t work. Not enough drama to sustain an entire book. Unless he was delivering drugs or something, in which case he’d hardly be a hero.”

Dallas returned to his chair, stretching his long legs out in front of him. “You take this book stuff seriously, don’t you?” He removed his glasses and cleaned them on the hem of his T-shirt, giving me not only a glimpse of his six-pack but also his face without glasses. My throat went dry, and I reached for my cell. I pulled up my favorites list and called Wok to You.

I hoped they did have a hot delivery guy because my hormones were like drunken monkeys in the cockpit of my heart, and they needed somewhere to crash-land.