Dream Lake (Friday Harbor #3)(25)

After Zoë had told her cousin everything that had happened at the lakeside cottage, Justine wasn’t merely amused. She laughed until she nearly toppled off her chair.

“Oh my God,” Justine gasped, grabbing a paper towel to blot the tears from her eyes. The sight of Zoë’s indignant expression only seemed to make it worse. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I’m laughing with you, not at you.”

“If you were laughing with me,” Zoë said, “then I would be laughing, too. And I’m not. Because all I can think about is stabbing myself with the first thing I can grab from the nearest utensil drawer.”

“Don’t even try,” Justine said, still snorting. “With the luck you’ve had today, it would turn out to be a melon baller.”

Zoë lowered her forehead to the kitchen table. “He thinks I’m the biggest idiot in the world. And I wanted so badly for him to like me.”

“I’m sure he likes you.”

“No,” Zoë said mournfully, “he doesn’t.”

“Then there’s something wrong with him, because everyone else in the world does.” Justine paused. “Why do you want him to like you?”

Zoë lifted her head and leaned her chin on her hand. “What if I say it’s because he’s so good-looking?”

“God, that’s incredibly shallow. I’m so disappointed in you. Tell me more.”

Zoë smiled. “It’s not really about his looks. Although he is … dazzling.”

“Not to mention a carpenter,” Justine said. “I mean, all carpenters are sexy, even the ugly ones. But a good-looking carpenter … well, that’s pretty hard to resist.”

“At first I wasn’t all that tempted by him, but then he killed the spider. Which was a huge point in his favor.”

“Absolutely. I love men who kill bugs.”

“And then when I was freaking out and couldn’t breathe, he was so … gentle.” Zoë sighed and colored, remembering. “He was holding me, and talking to me in that voice … you know, sort of low and rough around the edges …”

“All the Nolans sound like that,” Justine said reflectively. “Like they’ve got a mild case of bronchitis. Totally hot.”

A curl dangled in front of Zoë’s eyes, and she puffed it away. “When was the last time a man focused on you,” she asked reflectively, “as if you were the only thing in the world? Like he was paying attention to your every heartbeat. Like he was trying to absorb the feel of you.”

“Never,” Justine admitted.

“That was how it felt,” Zoë continued. “And I couldn’t help thinking about what it would be like, with a man like that. Because whenever men have told me in the past that they wanted me, I always knew that what they really wanted was a notch on the bedpost. And with Chris, even though he was very sweet and considerate, when we were … together, in that way … it was never …”

“Intense?”

Zoë nodded. “But there’s something about Alex that makes me think …” Her voice faded as she thought better of what she had been about to say.

Justine’s velvet-brown eyes darkened with concern. “Zo. You know I’m all for having fun. And I’ve told you for months that you need to go out with someone. But Alex is not the guy to start with.”

“Do we know for certain that his drinking is a problem?”

“If you even have to ask that, it’s a problem. And when you get involved with someone like that, you’re heading into a love triangle—you, him, and the booze. You don’t need his kind of trouble, especially now that you’ve taken on the responsibility of looking after Emma. I’m not trying to tell you what to do, but … never mind, I am. I’m telling you straight up, don’t get involved with Alex. There are too many nice, normal guys out there who would all love to be with you.”

“Are there?” Zoë asked dryly. “Why haven’t I ever met any of them?”

“They’re intimidated by you.”

“Oh, please. You’ve seen me on my bad hair days, and when I gained seven pounds over Thanksgiving, and later when I lost them during the most disgusting case of the flu ever … there is no reason for any man ever to be intimidated by me.”

“Zoë, even on your worst day, you are still the kind of woman that most men fantasize about having wild, crazy monkey sex with.”

“I don’t want crazy monkey sex,” Zoë protested. “I just want …” Unable to find the right words, she shook her head ruefully, and swatted back a few dangling curls. “I want solutions,” she admitted, “not more problems. And with Alex, there would be nothing but problems.”

“Yes. So let me fix you up. I know a ton of guys.”

Zoë hated blind dates nearly as much as spiders. She smiled and shook her head, and tried to forget about the feeling of safety she’d found in Alex Nolan’s arms. It was a bad habit of hers … looking for safety in places where there wasn’t any.

Nine

The attic at Rainshadow Road was filled with boxes, a battered wooden trunk, a few pieces of musty broken furniture, and decades’ worth of flotsam and jetsam abandoned by previous tenants. Alex reflected that it was a good thing he wasn’t afraid of insects or rodents, since there were bound to be a lot of them nesting in so much junk.