But it was so hard when she’d been brought up to be polite and to respect her elders. Plus, she hated confrontation in any form, and always backed away from it if she could because she became upset. What was the point in standing up to someone when she’d stand there and sob? So she’d learned to bite her tongue, walk away, and try to act as if it didn’t matter.
It rarely worked.
She drove along the quiet country lanes, trying to rid herself of the depressed feeling that was slowly settling over her like a blanket shaken and left to float to the ground. Too many times, it had been her parents who’d set off a bout of depression. She wasn’t going to let it happen this time. She’d go home, take a deep hot bath with lots of bubbles, have a glass of wine (and screw the fact it was only twelve thirty—lots of people had wine with lunch) and laze for the afternoon with the latest Nora Roberts and Bridget Jones.
Don’t let her get to you, she told herself fiercely, her spirits sinking in spite of her resolve. But she couldn’t help it. It wasn’t fair. She didn’t particularly feel any animosity toward Skye, because her kind, gentle sister had depression problems of her own their mother didn’t know about, and she was too nice for Maisey to hate with any passion. Kole was just an idiotic bloke who went around like a bull in a china shop. He had no conception of who he trampled over and didn’t care even if he did. She wished he’d be more thoughtful and understanding, but he wasn’t, and hating him wouldn’t get her anywhere.
Oddly, the person she felt most resentful toward was Harry. The brother who would remain forever perfect because he didn’t have the opportunity to prove himself human by making a mistake. Maisey had never told anyone, not even the psychologist she’d seen for a while, but she hated Harry for dying.
He’d argued with his girlfriend, who’d told him she wanted to break up with him. Furious and upset, he’d ridden his motorbike too fast, taken the corner too quick, and lost control of the bike. It was hardly a heroic death, caused by his own temper and stupidity, but in death he’d somehow become elevated to godly status. Maisey hated herself for resenting him, but equally it seemed wrong to talk about him as if he’d been the perfect son and sibling. He’d disobeyed his parents on numerous occasions, and he’d often been irritated with his younger sister. But everyone saw him as a hero. Even if Maisey were to invent a cure for cancer, her mother would never hold her in such high regard.
She approached the turnoff for her road, hesitated, then pressed her foot down. The car sped up, passed the turning, and continued north along the state highway.
Where she was going, she had no idea. The tears flowed for a while and then gradually slowed, but her heart felt heavy inside her body, as if it were a stone thrown into treacle, sinking to her feet.
She followed the road, and with surprise realized she was heading for Cable Bay.
Joss lived on the way to Cable Bay.
She couldn’t go to his house. For a start, she had no idea what he got up to at weekends. He might have a girl around. Surely, he wouldn’t have had sex with her if he’d been seeing someone else? But she couldn’t be sure.
Even if he was alone, what was the point in going there? What was she hoping to achieve? She wouldn’t be able to bear it if he opened the door and his expression showed impatience, disappointment, or—even worse—irritation. She’d made it clear there were no strings attached; it was hardly appropriate to turn up expecting a hug or, indeed, anything else.
And yet, he was still her friend. He’d bought her that chocolate bar, hadn’t he? She hadn’t expected that. He’d just turned up to see her the way he’d often done in the past. And this wasn’t the first time she’d ever gone to his house. Okay, it might be the first time she’d gone alone, but even if Kole or someone else was there, it wouldn’t look odd if she turned up.
And anyway, she wanted to see him.
So she followed the winding road, the ocean flashing blue on her right in the early autumn sunshine. And when she reached his drive at the top of the hill, she pulled over and stopped outside.
There was no sign of his car. It could have been in the garage, but the house felt quiet. Tuis and fantails called in the surrounding bush, and the palms arching over the drive hardly stirred at all.
She knocked on the door, but there was no reply.
Her shoulders sagged. She sat on the wall, turned her face up to the sun, and tried not to cry.
Chapter Eighteen
Joss didn’t have a great morning. He worked for a couple of hours and promptly wished he hadn’t when he found out there were back-to-back emergency appointments. Most didn’t end up being emergencies, but were instead over-anxious parents worrying their children had meningitis when in fact all they had was a simple heat rash. He didn’t blame the parents for their concern; he’d much rather they check and be wrong than not check and be right, and he told them as such. But it meant he didn’t get half the paperwork done he’d planned.
Deciding not to stay, needing fresh air, out of duty he popped in to see Hayley on his way home, and again, immediately wished he hadn’t. The house was like a bomb site, and all four kids and Hayley were stir crazy because she didn’t have enough money to take them out for the day. He helped her tidy up, then gave her all the notes in his wallet and told her to drop the Maggot off at a friend’s house and take the others to the cinema for a few hours. She pushed his hand away, cried, and then took the money, humiliated but thankful.
Joss left, knowing he should have offered to take the kids himself and give her a break, but he was tired and dispirited, and desperately needed some time to himself. Tomorrow, he thought as he drove home. I’ll offer to take them out tomorrow.
He dropped by Treats to buy a coffee, but to his surprise, Maisey wasn’t there. Elle told him Tasha was off to Auckland with Kole, and Maisey had the day off too. The whole world was against him, he thought, irritated with her, even though it was unfair. He headed for home, planning to pop a beer, sit on his deck, and try not to think how dull his life was.
He slowed, turned off the main road, and approached his house.
Immediately, he saw Maisey’s car out the front. She wasn’t inside, nor was she anywhere to be seen. He sat there for a moment, clenching the steering wheel. His house was his refuge from the madness of daily life. She’d promised she wouldn’t make any demands on him.
They’d been idiotic, he thought, crossing the small lawn around the side of the house. It was as if they’d added chili powder to food and then been surprised it tasted hot. Of course having sex would change their relationship. She’d now assume she had the right to see him whenever she wanted. She was yet another person who’d rely on him and call him whenever she needed something.
He tried to drum up some irritation that he’d let this happen when it was the last thing he wanted in his life.
But instead, to his surprise, all he could summon was pleasure.
She sat on the wooden bench overlooking the view of the bay. It had put on its best show for her. The cloudless sky was a deep blue, the cerulean water sparkled in the March sunshine, and a tui called from high in the manuka trees.
“Maisey?” He called out before he reached the seat, not wanting to make her jump.
She did jump, however, and turned, eyes wide. “Joss! I’m sorry, I lost track of time.” She rose to her feet, her cheeks flushing.
She looked gorgeous in a dark green shirt, grey jeans that sat low on her hips, and her old blue Converses. She’d clipped up her long dark hair with a sparkly butterfly, and tendrils had escaped to curl around her cheeks and neck. Her eyes looked blurred. Had she been crying? She gave him a bright smile, though, and shoved her hands in the pockets of her jeans, hunching her shoulders.
“It’s all right,” he said. “Sorry I wasn’t here when you arrived. I went into the surgery for a few hours.”
“Oh, that’s okay, it was a long shot. I went out for a drive and somehow ended up here.” Her brows drew together, as if she was puzzled by where she’
d ended up.
He looked at his watch. “It’s lunchtime. Want to come in for a sandwich and a glass of wine?”
Her face lit up, but she said, “Oh, I wouldn’t want to stop you. I know you must want to relax after being at work.”
“You do make me relax, Maisey,” he said, only realizing as he said the words it was true. He held out a hand. “Come on.”
Shyly, she took it, and he led her up to the house, unlocked the front door, and opened it. He followed her in, closed the door behind him, and threw his keys on the table before going into the kitchen.
“There’s some cold chicken here,” he said, opening the fridge, “and salad. Will that do?”
“Lovely. I’ll help.”
She stood beside him, and while he cut up the chicken, she slit open the rolls and filled them with salad and mayonnaise. He laid the chicken on top and put them onto plates, retrieved a bottle of wine from of the fridge, and poured them both a glass. They carried it all out to the deck and sat at the table.
“It’s such a fantastic view.” Maisey leaned back in her seat. “You’re so lucky.”
“I know.” He took a big bite of his roll. He hadn’t had any breakfast, and mentally scolded himself for going so long without eating. Low blood sugar had probably contributed to his feeling blue. “As soon as I saw it, I had to have it.”
She sipped her wine and sighed. “It must be lovely to return here at the end of a busy day.”
“It is restful. I wondered whether it might be lonely, and whether I’d regret not being closer to my family. Actually, it’s been a godsend.”
“I know what you mean. We love our families, but they can certainly test your patience.”
He thought of Hayley and his parents. “Yeah.” He eyed her as they both took another bite of their rolls and chewed quietly, letting the peace of the bay settle over them. “What have you been up to on your day off? I thought you might have gone down to Whangarei shopping or something.”
She sipped her wine again. “I thought about it, but I hadn’t seen my parents for a couple of weeks. I thought I’d drop by and get it over and done with but…” She rolled her eyes. “You know what parents are like.”
“Oh yeah. They can really make your life a misery.”
She looked out at the view and didn’t say anything for a moment. Something had upset her. He wasn’t sure what her relationship with her parents was like. He’d stayed over at Kole’s house when he was younger, and had met Fiona and Glen several times socially since then. Glen seemed like a typical Kiwi bloke, quiet, happy out on his boat or playing in his shed. Fiona had seemed nice enough, perhaps a little intense, but the couple had undergone the terrible tragedy of losing their oldest son, so it wasn’t surprising she came across as high maintenance.
Maisey had never spoken about her relationship with her parents, so he wasn’t sure what issues she had with them. In fact, she very rarely spoke about anything personal with him, which was no doubt one reason he tended to think of her on the shallow side. Remembering the antidepressants, he knew the impression he had of her was probably not quite correct. But he could only make judgments based on the information she was willing to share with him; he didn’t have a crystal ball.
She gave him a bright smile. “Any fascinating cases come into the surgery this morning?”
She’d changed the subject; clearly, she didn’t want to talk about her family. He should give her the pompous reminder of doctor-patient confidentiality, but she wasn’t asking for personal information. She wanted to lighten the conversation, and he could appreciate that.
“Some guy who’d cut his dick when attempting to open a tin can with a knife,” he said. It was a case from the hospital several years before, but he didn’t have to tell her that.
Her eyes widened, and she started laughing. “Jesus, how did he manage that?”
“God knows. I think he had the can between his knees and he was trying to hammer the knife into the lid. Suffice to say there was a lot of blood and a fair bit of screaming.”
“From you or him?”
He laughed. “Him, luckily. I just had to try hard not to throw up.”
Maisey chuckled. “You say that, but I can see why you became a G.P. You obviously have a real talent for it. I didn’t think you would—I thought you’d be off curing A.I.D.S. in African countries or something. You always seemed to have such big dreams.”
“Yeah, well. Best laid plans, and all that.” He did his best to contain his bitterness, but wasn’t sure he’d succeeded.
His suspicions were confirmed when her expression softened. “I’m sorry. It must have been hard for you, coming back here after seeing the world. It must seem a very small place, and we must seem like very small people to you.”
“There is an element of first world problems here,” he said with a smile, “but equally everything is relative. Just because someone isn’t starving doesn’t mean they’re not struggling. It’s important a doctor doesn’t act as if a patient’s problem is irrelevant. For example, if a patient were to come in with a common personal symptom I’d already seen a dozen times that day, it would be easy to be impatient and brusque if they got embarrassed. I have to remember that for them, this may be the first time they’ve undressed in front of a stranger. I try to act as if they’re the first patient who’s ever stood before me with that particular problem, and imagine how I’d feel if I were in their place.”
“I’ve often wondered what it must be like for a doctor to deal with intimate problems.” Her expression turned curious. “Especially those concerning the opposite sex. Is it odd when you have to deal with such personal things?”
“Not really. For a start, when doing an internal or a breast exam, we usually have a nurse present nowadays, to protect ourselves as well as to reassure the patient. Either that or we pass them on to Lynda—the female doctor.”
“Oh, I see.”
“And anyway, the person’s body becomes an object. It ceases to have sexual connotations, you know? People are often sore or in pain, and there’s nothing sexy about pain.”
“Some people think there is.” She grinned.
“You should know right now, I’m not one of them.”
“Neither am I, so that’s something we have in common.”
They smiled at each other. How pleasant it was, sitting there in the sun, talking to Maisey, who was so easy to speak to, such a bright spirit in his dull life.
“It doesn’t put you off sex, then,” Maisey said mischievously. “Dealing with other people’s bodies, especially if they’re…” she shuddered, “yucky.”
He grinned. “No. It doesn’t put me off sex.”
“That’s good.” Her lips curved.
He met her gaze and felt the first stirrings of awakening low in his belly. Where she was leaning back in her chair, the green shirt had pulled tight across her breasts. He could remember how they’d felt in his hands, heavy and firm. He’d thoroughly enjoyed what had happened the night of the party, but there was no doubt it had been quick. It had been chocolate truffle sex, a quick bite to gratify their grumbling sexual appetite, but as satisfying as it had been, it had left him wanting a four course meal.
Her smile widened as he continued to stare at her, and a glint appeared in her eye.
“What?” she said. “Fancy taking me to heaven and back again?”
Chapter Nineteen
Maisey held her breath while she waited for Joss to react. He was staring at her, but she couldn’t tell what he was thinking.
If he looked alarmed, or if he said no, she’d laugh and say she was joking, and hopefully make a quick getaway. She shouldn’t have mentioned it. Last time, she’d said no strings and no commitment, and presumably he’d agreed to sleep with her because of that caveat. She hadn’t meant to mention it again—she truly had thought it would be a one-off.
But he looked so gorgeous sitting there in the sun, a little sleepy, long legs stretched out in front of him as he lounged bac
k in his chair. She’d started thinking how nice it would be to lean across and kiss him. His lips would be warm from the sun, and he’d slip his hand behind her head to hold her there while his tongue explored her mouth. That had caused something to stir inside her, and the invitation had tumbled from her lips.
He was still staring at her, and she had the feeling he was weighing up the decision in his head. She understood. If they had sex again, it was more than a one-night stand. It wasn’t a relationship by any means, but whereas they could put what had happened before down to post-party buzz, this time it would be pre-meditated, considered, and thought through.
Her heart raced, and she swallowed down the nervous lump in her throat. He was going to say no. Shit. She opened her mouth to say she’d only been joking.
And then his lips curved up.
She stopped, mouth still open, and watched as his smile spread and became sexy and playful, his eyes dancing.
“Hell, yeah,” he said.
Relief and joy flooded her, and she gave a thankful laugh that she hadn’t embarrassed herself.
Joss grinned, and then to her surprise, he pulled the arm of her chair toward him. As she reached his side, he leaned across and lifted her onto his lap as easily as if she were a child.
“Ooh,” she said, slightly out of breath.
“Maisey the Minx.” He slid his arms around her.
She put her arms around his neck and leaned down until her lips brushed his. “You like making up nicknames for me, don’t you?”
“I do,” he murmured. He leaned his head on the back of the chair and let her trail her lips from the corner of his mouth over his cheek to his ear. He closed his eyes. “Maisey Mischief.”
She chuckled and kissed around his ear, took the lobe in her mouth, and sucked it.
He shivered. “Mouthwatering Maisey.”
“I like that one.” She kissed down his jaw and back to his mouth, then ran her tongue lightly across his bottom lip.
Treat her Right: A New Zealand Sexy Beach Romance (Treats to Tempt You Book 2) Page 12