Good Girls Do! by Julie Leto

Author:Julie Leto
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2000-10-15T00:00:00+00:00

MIRANDA LET THE SUBJECT drop. They finished lunch in a twilight-zone version of normalcy. He asked her about her lawn. She answered with more detail than he probably would have wanted on any other day. By the time the sandwiches, salad and chocolate-laced baklava had disappeared, they’d slipped back into that cordial rapport that Miranda was really starting to hate. When she’d gone upstairs to put on clean clothes, he’d left. She wasn’t surprised. She wasn’t even disappointed, which only added to the topsy-turvy logic that led her through the rest of the afternoon. She had a strange suspicion she might wake up soon and find the entire encounter had been the wackiest of erotic dreams. But that theory was shattered when Teri came knocking at her door shortly before five o’clock.

“I did miss all the Saturday cleaning and such, right? If not, I’ll leave and come back later.”

Miranda tossed a load of clothes into the wash, trying not to think about the Daisy Duke shorts and tight tank top she’d dared throw on that morning—ultrasexy wear that Teri had left in the spare bedroom during one of her many overnight stays. The image Noah had painted the night before had been too potent for her to ignore. When it looked as if he wasn’t going to show up to help her, she’d donned the clothes just to see what it felt like. Out in the sun. Wearing next to nothing. She’d fantasized about Noah’s reaction to her naughty outfit.

Only she didn’t have to fantasize anymore.

Now, she knew.

“I’m done for the day. Wanna stay for dinner?” Suddenly, Miranda didn’t like the idea of being alone for the rest of the evening. She’d much rather have something—or in this case, someone—to distract her from thinking about Noah.

Teri slipped into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door. “What are you making?”

“Whatever Domino’s can deliver.”

“Pizza? Really?” She shot back to the threshold separating the kitchen from the living room, where Miranda flopped onto the couch and picked up the television guidebook. “Are you feeling okay? Did you start your period or something?”

“I’m feeling great, actually.” And that was neither a lie nor an exaggeration. She flipped the pages to Saturday and scanned the science channel’s listing. “I just don’t want to cook or go out. You in?”

“Only if I don’t have to watch a documentary on the mating rituals of sea slugs.”

Miranda frowned and turned the page. “There’s a musical on Bravo.”

“Which one?”

“Hello, Dolly!”

“For Streisand, I’m in. Besides,” Teri disappeared behind the refrigerator door again then reemerged with a jar of Calamata olives and a hunk of Gruyere cheese. “I didn’t drive all the way over here to drop off this e-mail and leave.”

“What e-mail?” Miranda grabbed the remote from beneath the newspaper.

“From my friend, Bernie, the one who works at WRMA in New Orleans.” Miranda’s blank stare encouraged further explanation. “I told you. She produces that radio health program that just sold to twelve new markets. I haven’t seen her since we did Equus together off Broadway, but she remembered me and said she’d be willing to help.

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