that supposed to mean?" she challenged as the waitress slapped the check on the counter. Before she could grab the slip of paper, Garth reached out and picked it up.
"Never mind. I'll buy this morning. I owe you something for the excellent dinner last night. I don't think I even remembered to thank you for it."
"No, you didn't."
"Finished? We can walk back to the cottages together."
Shannon struggled for an excuse and came up with what seemed a reasonable one. "I was going to pick up some groceries first."
Garth nodded. "Not a bad idea. I'll need some things for dinner, too."
Shannon sighed to herself and accepted the inevitable. Short of staging a small scene, there was no smooth way to avoid him. Grudgingly, she left the counter and waited while he paid the tab. He followed her out onto the sidewalk, and together they turned toward the grocery store at the far end of the town's single business street.
"The fog has almost cleared off," Garth noted politely. "Should be a nice, warm afternoon."
"Probably." Shannon was embarrassed by her short response, but she was determined not to add anything else. Let Garth try to force the conversation for a change.
"You like living here." It was an observation, not a question.
"I love it."
"Are all your friends artsy-craftsy types?"
She glared up at him. "If you mean are most of them artistically and creatively oriented, yes. If you don't care for the breed you shouldn't have rented a cottage along the Mendocino coast. Everyone knows this is a haven for writers and artists and craftspeople."
"I didn't come here for the people."
Shannon thought about that for a moment. "No, I don't suppose you did. You surprise me, you know. I thought business types were fairly social by nature. You know, slick-talking salesmen, smooth-tongued corporate executives and so on. I would have thought you'd prefer a vacation spot that featured a couple of golf courses, maybe a tennis court and a few gourmet restaurants. Someplace where the rest of your kind hang out."
"Just because I make my living in the business world it doesn't mean I've completely adapted to the life-style," Garth said quietly.
Shannon, who had been anticipating a more cutting response, again experienced a shaft of embarrassment. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have made nasty remarks." She came to a halt. "Here's the grocery store. I won't be more than a few minutes."
"Take your time," he began to say and then realized she had already darted inside.
Shannon said hello to the clerk behind the checkout counter and then wheeled an old, crotchety cart toward the vegetable section at the rear of the store. She was acutely aware of Garth heading down the frozen-food aisle. This really was an awkward situation, she decided. The last thing she had expected from him was an apology, and she wasn't at all sure how to interpret it. She knew that in spite of her resolve to ignore him, she was weakening under his new, polite approach.
Perhaps Garth Sheridan was simply regretting the fact that he'd wrecked his chances for a short vacation affair and was trying to recover lost ground. If so, he had a surprise coming. She wasn't going to weaken that much. She was not setting herself up for any such affair. She would remain cool and polite and distant now that she knew the situation for what it was.
But in spite of her good intentions she couldn't resist frowning at Garth as he came around the corner of the aisle carrying a couple of cans of vegetables and two frozen entrees. Shannon spoke before she stopped to think.
"Why on earth do you want to buy canned vegies when there's nice fresh broccoli and some excellent tomatoes in the vegetable bins over there?" She waved in the general direction of the fresh vegetable section.
"It's easier to open a can."
She shook her head. "It's just as easy to cook fresh broccoli."
"Maybe it's easier for you, but not for me. I've never cooked fresh broccoli."
"Put those cans back on the shelf and I'll show
"Never mind. I'll buy this morning. I owe you something for the excellent dinner last night. I don't think I even remembered to thank you for it."
"No, you didn't."
"Finished? We can walk back to the cottages together."
Shannon struggled for an excuse and came up with what seemed a reasonable one. "I was going to pick up some groceries first."
Garth nodded. "Not a bad idea. I'll need some things for dinner, too."
Shannon sighed to herself and accepted the inevitable. Short of staging a small scene, there was no smooth way to avoid him. Grudgingly, she left the counter and waited while he paid the tab. He followed her out onto the sidewalk, and together they turned toward the grocery store at the far end of the town's single business street.
"The fog has almost cleared off," Garth noted politely. "Should be a nice, warm afternoon."
"Probably." Shannon was embarrassed by her short response, but she was determined not to add anything else. Let Garth try to force the conversation for a change.
"You like living here." It was an observation, not a question.
"I love it."
"Are all your friends artsy-craftsy types?"
She glared up at him. "If you mean are most of them artistically and creatively oriented, yes. If you don't care for the breed you shouldn't have rented a cottage along the Mendocino coast. Everyone knows this is a haven for writers and artists and craftspeople."
"I didn't come here for the people."
Shannon thought about that for a moment. "No, I don't suppose you did. You surprise me, you know. I thought business types were fairly social by nature. You know, slick-talking salesmen, smooth-tongued corporate executives and so on. I would have thought you'd prefer a vacation spot that featured a couple of golf courses, maybe a tennis court and a few gourmet restaurants. Someplace where the rest of your kind hang out."
"Just because I make my living in the business world it doesn't mean I've completely adapted to the life-style," Garth said quietly.
Shannon, who had been anticipating a more cutting response, again experienced a shaft of embarrassment. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have made nasty remarks." She came to a halt. "Here's the grocery store. I won't be more than a few minutes."
"Take your time," he began to say and then realized she had already darted inside.
Shannon said hello to the clerk behind the checkout counter and then wheeled an old, crotchety cart toward the vegetable section at the rear of the store. She was acutely aware of Garth heading down the frozen-food aisle. This really was an awkward situation, she decided. The last thing she had expected from him was an apology, and she wasn't at all sure how to interpret it. She knew that in spite of her resolve to ignore him, she was weakening under his new, polite approach.
Perhaps Garth Sheridan was simply regretting the fact that he'd wrecked his chances for a short vacation affair and was trying to recover lost ground. If so, he had a surprise coming. She wasn't going to weaken that much. She was not setting herself up for any such affair. She would remain cool and polite and distant now that she knew the situation for what it was.
But in spite of her good intentions she couldn't resist frowning at Garth as he came around the corner of the aisle carrying a couple of cans of vegetables and two frozen entrees. Shannon spoke before she stopped to think.
"Why on earth do you want to buy canned vegies when there's nice fresh broccoli and some excellent tomatoes in the vegetable bins over there?" She waved in the general direction of the fresh vegetable section.
"It's easier to open a can."
She shook her head. "It's just as easy to cook fresh broccoli."
"Maybe it's easier for you, but not for me. I've never cooked fresh broccoli."
"Put those cans back on the shelf and I'll show
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