Just A Little Sex.... Miranda LeeЧитать онлайн книгу.
“You don’t think…”
“It’s possible, isn’t it?” Zoe said with a shrug. “Let’s face it, most men would at least look at you, Mel. Especially half-naked. The fact this chap ignored you says one of two things to me. He’s either gay, or he does secretly fancy you, but he doesn’t want to be obvious.”
“Good grief!” Melinda exclaimed. “Do you always think this deviously?”
“I didn’t once,” Zoe said dryly. “But my experience with men is beginning to make me think outside the envelope. Now I really must get going or I’ll hit the traffic. If and when Drake calls, tell him I’ve gone away for the weekend but you don’t know where.”
“He’s not going to be happy.”
“Too bad. I wasn’t happy today.”
“Oooh. Them’s fightin’ words.”
“I’m in a fightin’ mood. Which is why I’m going away. I need time to think. And time to calm down. Maybe by Monday, I’ll see things a little clearer.”
“Nothing in relationships with men is ever clear, Zoe,” Melinda said. “They’re a breed unto themselves. Impossible to really understand what makes their peculiar male minds tick. It’s a case of can’t live with them, can’t live without them.”
“Oh, I can live without them,” Zoe said. “I’ve done it before and I can do it again. I just have to work out if I want to.”
4
ZOE DIDN’T HAVE to consult Nigel’s map for the first part of her drive north. She knew the way to Port Stephens. When she’d first bought her much-loved car a year ago, she’d spent every weekend going for long drives and investigating all the seaside towns within a half-day distance of Sydney.
Zoe had a secret passion for trips to the beach, perhaps because she’d rarely gone to the seaside during her growing-up years. The children of dairy farmers learned young that you can never go far from home, or for long. Having to milk the cows morning and afternoon tied you to the place, good and proper.
Unfortunately, Zoe soon found that going away by yourself for the weekend wasn’t all that much fun. It was reasonably pleasurable during the day, sight-seeing or strolling along a beach, but when the day ended and she returned to her motel room all alone, her mood would change.
Eating alone in restaurants was the worst. And watching other couples, holding hands across candle-lit tables. She discovered there was nothing worse than not having anyone to talk to and share your experiences with. When her solitary excursions began to seriously depress her, she stopped.
Which made her wonder why on earth she’d agreed to this silly idea of going away for the weekend on her own this time. She would have far too much time to think and brood. She would have been better off staying home and sorting things out with Drake, one way or another.
Zoe sighed in disgruntlement. It was too late now. She was almost at Port Stephens. Which meant it was time to pull over to the side of the highway and consult Nigel’s map in more detail before she missed the turning to Hideaway Beach.
Five minutes later she was safely on the side road leading to her destination. It was narrow and winding, with nothing on either side but the kind of low trees and rather unattractive scrub one found when you were this close to the sea. The soil was mostly sand and just didn’t grow lush green grass or nice tall trees. There were no houses, either, which meant it was probably a state reserve.
Zoe felt she’d been driving for ages by the time the gas station came into view on her left. It was ancient, as was the general store attached, but surprisingly well stocked, with a cheerful old guy behind the counter who liked to chat.
It was just after six by the time Zoe was on her way again with her passenger seat carrying a bag full of fresh bread, milk, eggs, two wickedly fattening bars of chocolate and a couple of her favorite magazines. She hadn’t thought to throw in a book to read before leaving home and didn’t trust the likes of Nigel Cox to have anything on his bookshelves she might enjoy.
Frankly, she hadn’t thought about this trip enough at all, she now conceded. She hadn’t even bothered to change clothes before leaving. Just chucked a few items in an overnight bag and got going.
It wasn’t like her to act so hastily. The drama with Drake had tipped her world upside down, and her with it.
Zoe rounded a long sweeping curve and there, straight ahead, lay the horizon of the Pacific Ocean, big and vast and blue. Her heart lifted at the sight, and she was suddenly glad she’d come, if for nothing else than this moment.
But the moment was gone all too quickly, cold, hard reality returning to darken her own personal horizon. This weekend escape was not going to solve anything. She was just delaying the difficult decision over what she should do. Forgive and forget? Or dump Drake and try to move on…
The car slowed to a crawl as Zoe’s mind drifted once more. It was all very well for Mel to say she’d find someone else in no time. Zoe had never been the sort of girl to pick up men easily, even now, when her looks were no longer a drawback. Men often found her standoffish. Some had even called her stuck-up.
But she wasn’t. Not at all. She was just reserved. And naturally wary. She didn’t warm to strangers easily. She was slow to give affection and friendship, and even slower to accept it from others. Which made her instant liking of Melinda, for instance, most unusual. She hadn’t even really liked Drake at first meeting. He’d impressed her, yes. But liked? No…not exactly. She’d thought him a little pushy. But she’d found his dogged pursuit of her very flattering, and very seductive. There’d been the flowers twice a week. Phone calls every day. Presents. Poetry, even.
How could she help falling in love with him in the end? Or going to bed with him? Or being devastated by his cheating on her? He’d made her think she was his entire world, and vice versa.
The sound of a horn honking loudly made Zoe jump in her seat, her eyes flying to the rear-vision mirror. A bright yellow truck was right behind her, several surf boards strapped to the roof. The male driver was making an impatient left-handed motion with his hand.
Zoe hadn’t realized she’d been stopped, smack-dab in the middle of the road. Embarrassed, she smiled an apology at the driver in the rear-vision mirror. After a moment’s hesitation he smiled back, and the oddest little quiver ran through Zoe from top to toe.
It shocked her so much that she stared at his reflection for a few seconds before moving her car over to the left, carrying with her the image of the bronze-skinned, blond-haired, broad-shouldered hunk wearing wraparound sunglasses and the brightest orange T-shirt she’d ever seen. His sun-streaked hair was short and spiked, and his face had that chiseled structure which you saw a lot on male models, his lantern jawline covered with a few days’ stubble. Naturally, in those sunglasses, she couldn’t see the color of his eyes, but she guessed they would be blue.
This last train of thought startled Zoe. What on earth was she doing, speculating over what color eyes he had? But even as she reprimanded herself for such silly nonsense, he was driving by and peering at her through their respective side windows. Her heart began to race and she started wondering if he was speculating on the color of her eyes, which were similarly masked by sunglasses. Her hand lifted and she almost took them off, wanting him to see that her own were big and brown and long-lashed.
They were her best feature, her eyes.
But she caught herself just in time and the moment of madness passed, as did the truck. Thank goodness.
What had she thought she was doing?
A minute before she’d been agonizing over how devastated she was by Drake’s cheating on her. Then the next moment, there she was, almost flirting with some stranger.
There was absolutely no excuse for such behavior, no matter how sexy the guy in the truck was.
Sexy?
How could she