WHAT AM I DOING HERE? Sarah wondered, astonished at herself for even showing up. Sunday afternoon, her only real day off, and here she was with a bunch of families, tourists speaking every language on earth and animals, also from every corner of earth. All week she’d scoffed at the very notion that she, an intelligent, educated, sophisticated professional woman would be seen at such a place.
I’ll meet you at the orangutan exhibit, he’d written.
She was having her first date with a man who’d excited her on both a deeply personal and an intellectual level. And she was having it at the zoo.
What was she thinking? She couldn’t even believe she was here.
As she paid for admission, she wondered when she’d last been here, and couldn’t remember. What if she got to the orangutan habitat and couldn’t recognize him?
Horrified at the entire situation, she grabbed a map and found the meeting spot.
There was only one man there.
And he wasn’t looking at her, he was looking at a shaggy, brown, overgrown monkey as though it were his son, with fondness and a sort of parental pride.
He was the right age, early thirties, definitely looked like a man who rode a bike all the time since he carried a soft-sided pack and had a hard-bodied outdoorsy look about him. Monkey man was so not her type.
She took a step back, thought she’d quietly head out of here when the man turned. “Sarah?” he asked.
What was she going to do, lie?
She gulped. Nodded.
He smiled at her. He had brownish-blond hair that was bleached to straw from the sunshine. He was taller than she’d imagined, over six feet, and he had eyes so clear and blue you’d think he’d never seen anything unpleasant in his life.
Considering this was a first date, he hadn’t knocked himself out in the wardrobe department. He wore biking shorts and a T-shirt. If he’d combed his hair in recent history, there was no evidence of it.
“It’s great to meet you at last. I’m Mike.”
Not knowing what else to do, she stuck out her hand, and, after looking at her outstretched palm for a moment, he shook it. He had strong, tough hands. She could feel the calluses on his palms when he touched her. “Hi.” Then, as he studied the expression on her face, his eyes began to twinkle. “Not the place your dates usually take you, huh?”
Since she’d paid for her own ticket he could hardly be said to have “taken her” anywhere, but she kept her mouth shut.
“Come here. I want to show you something.”
And reluctantly she moved to his side, mentally preparing a whole list of reasons why she had to leave, and soon.
“See this guy?” He pointed to a mangy-looking creature currently engaged in scratching his privates. “That’s Mike Junior.”
Oh, good. She was on a date with a lunatic. Excellent. And, based on her track record, exactly what she should have expected. “Mike Junior? Your son?”
He laughed, as though they were sharing the joke instead of him being one. “Yep. I adopted him.”
Already she was too irritated to be polite. “Is there some medication you forgot to take this morning?”
“No.” He still seemed to be amused by her for some reason. “I’m aware he’s not my biological kid. It’s the adopt-an-animal program. Haven’t you heard of it?”
Her blank look obviously answered for her.
“It’s a charity thing. You pay to help feed an animal.” He shrugged. “I’m not a big zoo fan, but I like the conservation program so I got involved. Mike Junior is a Sumatran orangutan and my adopted zoo animal. I like to visit on a regular basis, not that he appreciates me or anything. But he’s a teenager, what can you expect?”
He was right. What had she expected? Someone normal? She’d e-mailed a stranger, told him things she’d never told another living soul. Of course he’d turned out to be a monumental wacko.
The gaze he turned on her was surprisingly sympathetic. “You think I’m deranged, don’t you?”
She’d been honest with him on e-mail, and wasn’t about to lie now she’d met him in person. “A little.”
“Come on. Let’s continue with our date. Maybe I’ll grow on you.”
“Like lice on Mike?”
He laughed. “Like a new idea, an acquired taste, an understanding of music.”
“I’m tone-deaf.”
He shook his head at her. “You’re not this difficult on e-mail.”
“Actually, I am, but I use the delete key a lot.” She made a wry face. “Maybe we should have brought our computers with us. We could have edited ourselves before speaking. Would have been easier.”
Still, she allowed him to guide her deeper into the zoo. And, after looking at birds and reptiles and endangered animals from all over the world, she found herself relaxing and, strangely, beginning to enjoy her day.
Yeah, the kids were noisy, but they were excited, too. Sure, it was hot, and sometimes there were smells she really could have done without, but she’d never seen a lot of these animals before, not the rare shy ones, like the blue-eyed black lemur from Madagascar who stared at her with his huge marblelike eyes from the safety of a tree branch, looking so cute she wanted to tuck him into her pocket and take him home.
Or the birds who lived around the lake in the middle of the zoo.
“I guessed from your stories about your cat that you’re an animal lover.”
“One cat. Clarence. He was a stray. I’m usually more into history than zoology.”
“Ah, but this is a historical zoo. Ben Franklin founded it, you know. It’s the oldest zoo in North America.”
She had to laugh. “Points to you.”
“I brought a picnic,” he said.
She stared at him in shock. A family of Russians passed them, jabbering excitedly. “You did?”
“I did.” He glanced at her. “When was the last time you went on a picnic?”
She thought back. And back. And further back still. “I must have been a kid last time I went on a picnic. How weird is that? It’s not like I intended not to eat a meal outside on a blanket, it simply didn’t happen.”
“I guessed right again, then.”
He found them a spot on the grass, and from out of his battered pack he produced an old threadbare beach towel to sit on, sandwiches so inexpertly wrapped she assumed he’d made them himself, cheese, crackers, apples and soft drinks.
Not exactly the champagne and strawberries and gourmet fare she somehow associated with a picnic, complete with a fancy straw basket, checkered cloth and cutlery, but it was fun to sit down outside and munch sandwiches. Casual and easy so a person could enjoy eating in the great outdoors with a minimum of fuss.
“What kind of sandwiches?” she asked when he offered her a packet.
“I wasn’t sure what you’d like so I made ham and cheese and peanut butter and jelly.”
“Peanut butter and jelly?” What were they, eight years old?
“It’s what I had in the house. Besides, I wasn’t sure if you ate meat. Wouldn’t want you starving.”
He’d gone to a lot of trouble and there was something endearing about a man who brought a PB&J to a grown woman on their first date. “I’ll have one of each,” she said. On impulse, she removed her shoes for the pleasure of brushing her feet over the grass. Even though it was midsummer, her legs and feet were pale, and not because she religiously applied sunscreen, but because she was working so much she rarely saw the sun. She’d even had to run out to Banana Republic for some new shorts when she couldn’t find any but an ancient pair of cutoffs at home. Now she realized the cutoffs would have been perfect with her current date.
He passed her a soda and for a few minutes they occupied themselves with unwrapping sandwiches and opening soft drinks. It was the oddest experience to be a stranger to someone who knew her so well. She needed to connect to the online person, so she said, “Tell me more about your new yoga studio.”
He’d explained on e-mail that he was going to be teaching at a new place. They’d talked about a lot of things but the yoga studio seemed the most impersonal, the most like get-to-know-you chitchat.
“It’s going to be good, I think. Location’s right, plenty of stressed-out people who need to slow down, reconnect with their bodies and spirits.” He stopped to swig from his can of soda. “You should come.”
“Because I’m stressed out and need to reconnect with my body and spirit?”
“Maybe. But mostly so I can see you again.”
Incredibly, she realized she did want to see him again. She liked his easy way, his loose-limbed walk, the fact that he hadn’t dressed to impress her but he’d been thoughtful enough to pack a picnic. She was used to men in suits who took her to fancy restaurants and, if they could manage it, to bed. Guys who were as time-crunched as she. Not guys who showed up in biking shorts and treated her to lunch on the grass. Now that she was used to him, she even liked that he’d adopted a teenage monkey.
However, there were things she needed to get straight now that Mike was no longer some faceless Internet confidant. Like the fact that they’d met under false pretenses.
“What made you e-mail me the first time?” she asked him. There’d been no photograph accompanying her profile; even David wouldn’t stoop that low.
Mike thought for a few minutes. “I don’t know. That was a while ago. I liked your profile. How straightforward you were. Like, this is who I am and what I want. No apologies. It was straight-up. You communicate directly, almost like a man.”
She looked into his frank, innocent eyes and knew she had to tell him. “The truth is, a man did write my profile.”
He finished chewing a bite of sandwich and swallowed. “Why didn’t you write your own?”
“It was my brother who put up the profile. He did it as a joke.”
Mike didn’t seem particularly shocked by her admission. She got the feeling that he liked to think things through, see all sides of an issue and come to conclusions slowly. Not jump to judgment like she did. “If it was a joke, why didn’t you take your profile down when you found out?”
Which wasn’t the first question she’d have asked if their positions were reversed, and one she found difficult to answer. Yet, if they were to continue, she supposed they needed to be honest with each other, even if it made her feel uncomfortably vulnerable. “You e-mailed me. I liked what you said, so I stayed on for a while.” She shrugged. “Once I felt comfortable giving you my personal e-mail address, I deleted my profile.”
“That’s cool.”
“It’s not completely cool. You see, the part that was a joke was the way my brother described me.” She felt hotness creep into her face. “Like I was a frustrated spinster looking to get married and have babies, and not interested in sex before marriage.”
She wrapped up the remains of her sandwich and put it neatly into the bag he’d brought along for garbage.
He watched her as though waiting for her to go on. She didn’t. So he said, “So, are you?”
A laugh shook her. “Am I what? All those things my brother said? Of course not.” She thought for a moment. “Well, in the legal sense, I am a spinster. It simply means unmarried woman. And of course I plan to get married some day and probably have kids, but it’s not the top thing on my agenda.”
Which left the sex thing hanging out there in the breeze like the muted sounds of animals from nearby enclosures. Again, Mike didn’t speak but waited for her to tackle the subject she’d so rashly brought up. She fought cases in court, argued down some tough opponents. She didn’t blush and dither. Yet now she felt an urge to do both. Finally, she said, “Let’s just say I’m not saving myself for my wedding night.”
“I see.” Carefully, he packed away his garbage. Unlike her, he’d eaten every scrap of his sandwich, left only the barest core of apple. “So, you want to go somewhere and have sex now?”
“No!”
A tiny rumble that could have been a laugh shook his frame. “Then, I guess, somewhere between a first date and marriage is when you’d feel comfortable having sex with a new partner?”
“Why are we talking about my sex life?”
“You seemed to want to. You brought it up.”
“My point is that I’m not as conservative as that profile made me out to be.”
“You know, we’ve been e-mailing for a while now. Don’t you think I might have figured out a few things about you for myself?”
“Like what?”
The sun shone through whatever those fancy, lacy trees above them were, casting snowflake-shaped shadows on his face and body. “Like you work pretty hard making sure people see you the way you think you should appear. But when you relax and let down your guard, there’s another Sarah in there. A softer woman who doesn’t get out much.”
And there it was, the thing she’d dreaded from the beginning. “So, you’re interested in soft, squishy Sarah. Sarah the pining mom, Sarah the—”
He interrupted her for the first time since they’d met. “I’m interested in all of you,” he said with unaccustomed firmness. “It’s your contrasts that appeal to me. I like that you’re smart and driven and take pride in your work. I also like the person inside who yearns for some things her tough exterior doesn’t think she should. It’s what makes you interesting.”
“Oh.” She was rarely speechless, but she felt close to it right now. Naturally, she turned the tables. “What about you?” He’d obviously gone to that site for a reason. “If I’d said, yes, let’s go get naked in the bushes and do the deed, would you have gone along with me?”
He really did have the sexiest mouth, especially when he gave her his slow smile. One that sent her temperature up a notch. “I’d have been tempted. I won’t deny it. I find you very attractive. But no. I wouldn’t. I don’t do that anymore.”
Good to know he’d at least have been tempted. “Don’t do what anymore?”
“The casual-sex thing. It gets old.”
“Does it? It’s been so long since I even had sex I can barely remember.” She could have slapped her hand over her mouth. What was wrong with her?
Mike appeared quite intrigued by her blurted comment. He leaned back on his elbows as if he had all day and nothing much to do. “How long?”
“This is the weirdest first-date conversation I’ve ever had.” She huffed, scrubbed her bare feet a little in the grass to get rid of an itch. “About a year.”
“Eight months for me.”
“Somebody break your heart?”
He rolled lazily onto one elbow and contemplated her. “Maybe me.”
“You broke your own heart?” Probably just as well he was confining his progeny to zoo animals.
“You really want my story?”
“Sure.” She had a million things to do this afternoon, but it was a gorgeous day and no matter how hard she worked she’d always have another million things waiting.
“I was living in California, working as a surf instructor and a yoga teacher as well as working in a school. The thing is, when people do sports they tend to get a nice endorphin rush going. And I had a lot of female students.”
A picture was starting to form. “Tanned California girls in bikinis.”
He grinned. “Sometimes. And yoga wear. All these lithe, fit women and I know I’m going to sound like a conceited jackass here…but some of my students would come on to me. Seemed pretty harmless. I was flattered, we’d built up a bit of a good vibe from surfing or yoga or whatever and next thing you know I’d be having sex with these women.” He shrugged, seeming uncomfortable. “After a while, I started to feel like the pool boy.”
She had to suppress a laugh. “You mean these women were using you for sex?”
“Let’s just say I didn’t form a lot of long-term relationships.” He rolled to his back. “I think I like sex as much as the next guy, but I’m looking for more than casual hookups.”
“So you moved to Philly. A lot fewer girls in bikinis needing surf lessons here.”
“I got offered a permanent teaching job out here. And I decided it was a chance for a new start. I made some rules for myself. So far I’ve followed them.”
“Don’t you miss it?” she had to ask. He was such a physical guy. She thought of David giving up sex for eight months and her mind couldn’t contain the thought.
“Do I miss sex?” He rolled to his side so he was facing her again. “Absolutely.” He reached for her hand, the most intimate gesture he’d yet made. Linked their fingers together. She was shocked at how sexy it felt. How good. “How about you?”
“I keep pretty busy. Most of the time I don’t think about sex, but when I do?” She thought of the warmth coursing between them from the simple touch of their linked hands. “Yeah. I miss it.”
They stayed like that for a minute, comfortable, easy with each other and yet with a current of sexual tension that was buzzing through their linked hands.
“About these rules you made for yourself…” She didn’t know how to continue. “How long…?”
“Look, I’m really not into rules and rigid structures, I’m not saying I have to know someone a certain amount of time or anything, I’m just saying, I’m not a scratching post for every woman with an itch.”
An unexpected snort of laughter erupted from her mouth. “That is some image you just put in my head.”
He grinned at her. “I want to sleep with someone because I genuinely like her and want to get to know her better, and I want her to feel the same. No timeline.”
“Got it.”
“Does that work for you?”
“Yes, I think that could work for me.”
They cleaned up the rest of their picnic and she shook out the beach towel and rolled it up neatly before handing it to him. They walked to where she’d left her car, the sun scorching. She pulled out her sunglasses and slid them on. “Do you need a ride somewhere?”
“No. I’ve got my bike.”
“Right. Well…” She had no idea how to say goodbye.
He handed her a flyer. She was so surprised she looked down to read it. Saw a trio of distorted bodies and it took her a minute to make the connection. “Oh, it’s your yoga studio.”
“The schedule’s on there. I teach Saturday mornings. Be great to see you.”
“Aren’t you afraid I’ll try to seduce you after class?” she teased.
“I hope you will,” he replied, then with a swift kiss—so quick it was over before she’d realized he was about to kiss her—he turned away and left. Her lips felt tingly and alive. And, she realized, the rest of her felt pretty good, too. Maybe they were both about to end their sexual dry spells.
She drove away with a smile on her face. Who’d have thought. One thing she was determined on. David was never, ever going to find out that she’d met a great guy through his bogus profile.
Never.