Road Trip with the Eligible Bachelor. Michelle Douglas

Heart’ and many more novelty songs, which was enough to last him a lifetime. Twenty minutes of I Spy had followed and then a further thirty minutes of the number plate game. There was only one rule to the game, as far as he could tell, and that was who could make up the silliest phrase from the letters of a passing number plate.

      PHH. Penguin haircuts here. Purple Hoovering hollyhocks. Pasta hates ham.

      LSL. Larks sneeze loudly. Little snooty limpets. Lace scissored loquaciously.

      CCC. Cream cake central. Can’t clap cymbals. Cool cooler coolest.

      And on and on and on it went, like some kind of slow Chinese water torture. His temples throbbed and an ache stretched behind his eyes. He didn’t join in.

      He sat up straighter though when Quinn eased the car down the town’s main street. He glanced up at the sky. There was another four hours of daylight left yet. Another four hours of good driving time.

      Manners prevented him from pointing this out. Biting back something less than charitable, he studied the few shops on offer. Maybe he’d be able to hire a car of his own out here?

      Quinn parked the car in the main street and turned off the motor. ‘The boys and I are staying at the caravan park, but I figured you’d be more comfortable at the motel.’

      A caravan park? He suppressed a shudder. Again, he didn’t say anything. Quinn was obviously on a tight budget.

      She and the boys all but bounced out of the car. Aidan found his limbs heavy and lethargic. It took an effort of will to make them move. He wondered where Quinn found all her energy. Maybe she took vitamins. Unbidden, an image of her racing around the soccer oval in her bike shorts and dress rose up through him and for some reason his throat tightened.

      He glanced up to find her watching him. He felt worn and weary, but her ponytail still bounced and her cheeks were pink and pretty. She waited, as if expecting him to say something, and then she merely shrugged. ‘The motel is just across the road.’ She pointed. ‘We’ll collect you at nine in the morning.’

      He snapped to and retrieved his overnight bag from the back of the wagon. ‘I’ll be ready earlier. Say six or seven if you wanted to get an early start.’

      ‘Nine o’clock,’ she repeated, and he suddenly had the impression she was laughing at him.

      She swung back to the boys. ‘Right!’ She clapped her hands. ‘Chase, I need you to find me a packet of spaghetti and, Robbie, I need you to find me a tin of tomatoes.’

      As they walked away he heard Chase ask, ‘What are you looking for?’

      ‘Minced meat and garlic bread.’ And they all disappeared into the nearby supermarket.

      He’d been summarily dismissed. Again.

      From a grocery trip? He shook the thought off and headed across the road to the motel.

      His room was adequate. Merredin might be the regional centre for Western Australia’s wheat belt, but as far as he was concerned it wasn’t much more than a two-horse town and his early enquiries about hiring a car proved less than encouraging.

      He strode back to his motel room, set his phone to charge and then flipped open his laptop and searched Google Maps. He frowned. What the heck...? If they kept travelling at this pace it’d take them two weeks to drive across the country!

      His hands clenched for a moment. Counting to three, he unclenched them and pulled a writing pad from his briefcase and started to plot a route across the continent. He spread out a map he’d grabbed from the motel’s reception and marked logical break points where he and Quinn could swap driving duties.

      That took all of twenty minutes. He closed his laptop and glanced about his room. There didn’t seem to be much more to do. He wandered about the room, opening the wardrobe doors and the desk drawer. He made a coffee that he didn’t drink. He reached for his cell phone to call his mother, stared at it for a moment and then shoved it back onto its charger.

      Flopping back onto the bed, he stared at the ceiling for what seemed like an eon. When he glanced at his watch, though, he cursed. What on earth was he going to do for the rest of the afternoon, let alone the rest of the night?

      He raised himself to his elbows. He could go and find Quinn and the boys.

      Why would you do that?

      He sat up and drummed his fingers against his thighs, before shooting to his feet. He tore the page from his writing pad and stalked from the room.

      It didn’t take him long to find the caravan park. And it didn’t take him long to locate Robbie and Chase either. They played—somewhat rowdily—on a playground fort in primary colours so bright they hurt his eyes. And then he saw Quinn. She sat cross-legged on a blanket beside a nearby caravan, and something about her sitting in the afternoon light soothed his eyes.

      ‘Hey, Aidan,’ she called out when she saw him. ‘Feeling at a loose end, huh?’

      He rolled his shoulders. ‘I’m just exploring. Thought I’d come see where you were camped.’

      She lifted her face to the sun. ‘This is a nice spot, isn’t it?’

      It was? He glanced around, searching for whatever it was that she found ‘nice’, but he came up blank.

      ‘I thought you’d be busy catching up on all of your work.’

      It hit him that in amongst all of his restlessness it hadn’t occurred to him to ring back into the office. They knew he was delayed, but...

      It didn’t mean he had to stop working. There’d still be the usual endless round of email that needed answering. He could’ve set up meetings for this evening on Skype.

      The thought of all that work made him feel as tired as the idea of ringing his mother. When Quinn gestured to the blanket he fell down onto it, grateful for the respite.

      He had no right feeling so exhausted. He’d done next to nothing all day. He shook himself in an effort to keep the moroseness at bay, glanced around as if he were curious about his surroundings. If he pretended well enough, maybe he’d start to feel a flicker of interest and intent again. Maybe. ‘Are you planning to stay in caravan parks for all of your journey?’

      ‘You bet.’

      He kept his face smooth, but somehow she saw through him and threw her head back with a laugh. ‘Not your idea of a good time, I see.’

      ‘I wouldn’t say that.’ He wasn’t a snob, but... Walking to an amenity block when he could have an en suite bathroom? No, thanks.

      ‘Only because you’re incredibly polite.’

      She made that sound like an insult.

      ‘Look about you, Aidan. This place caters to children far better than your motel does. Most caravan parks do. Look at all that open green space over there. The boys can kick a ball around to their hearts’ content. And then there’s that playground, which I might add is fenced.’

      In those eye-gouging primary colours.

      ‘Robbie is old enough not to wander off, but Chase is still easily distracted.’

      He straightened when he realised this place gave her peace of mind. ‘I hadn’t thought of that.’

      ‘And there’re usually other children around for them to play with too.’

      He watched another two children approach the playground.

      ‘Most people here won’t mind a bit of noise from the children, but I bet you’re glad we’re not staying in the room next to yours at the motel.’

      He rolled his shoulders. ‘It’s not a bad noise. It’s just a bit of laughing and shouting.’

      She raised her eyebrows.

      ‘But I take your point.’

      ‘It’d