The Ties That Bind

tomorrow. I'll have him contact you and arrange a time to put in the locks."
    "Garth, please, I don't need new locks."
    He looked at her. "Honey, you're too naive about some of the grim facts of life. But don't worry, I'll take care of everything."
    Helplessly Shannon stabbed her fork into a bowl of strawberries. She knew she was feeling resentful, but she didn't dare say anything more. Maybe it would be wise to put in new locks. The ones in place now had been here when she'd leased the cottage. Heaven only knew how long they'd been here before that.
    But it wasn't the issue of whether she needed new locks that bothered her; it was the way Garth was assuming responsibility for the decision that was annoying her. He was moving more and more into her life, making decisions and offering advice even when it hadn't been requested. The problem was, Shannon realized, the arrangement was not reciprocal. Garth was involving himself in her world, but she still knew next to nothing about his.
    "I'll think about the locks," Shannon offered by way of compromise.
    Garth lifted his brows, his expression warmly amused. "No, you won't. I'll think about them. Just leave that sort of thing to me, honey. I'm good at handling details."
    Shannon's mouth tightened, but she managed to keep quiet.
    It wasn't until they were down on the beach half an hour later that she found out about the party. Shannon got the impression Garth wouldn't have mentioned it at all if she hadn't happened to bring up the subject of another Verna Montana play scheduled for the following weekend.
    "She's going to do one she's written herself," Shannon explained with a laugh. "Should be fun. It's a satire on yuppies. She's using various and assorted vegetables as her characters."
    "Vegetables."
    Shannon grinned. "Verna sees vegetables as having very distinctive personalities."
    "I suppose we should be grateful it's not going to be a musical. Singing vegetables might be more than I could handle." Garth suddenly frowned, and his hand tightened abruptly around Shannon's. "Oh, hell, I just remembered. I won't be able to come over to the coast next weekend."
    Shannon's heart sank. She turned her attention to the far end of the beach. "Work?" she asked neutrally.
    "In a way," Garth groaned. "Actually, it's a damn party."
    "A party?"
    "A business party. Usually I avoid them like the plague, but this one is being put on by a guy who's done me some favors. He and his wife throw one event a year, and this year it's scheduled for next Saturday. God knows I'd get out of it if I could. Most of my competitors and several clients will be there. I see enough of that crowd at work. I don't like having to socialize with them."
    Shannon took a deep breath and said cautiously, "I could drive down to San Jose next weekend. I'm sure I could find a dress somewhere in my closet. I'll go to the party with you."
    "No."
    She bit her lip, slightly taken aback by the abrupt refusal. She had been expecting some resistance, but this was more like a stone wall. "I don't mind the drive, Garth."
    "I don't want you getting mixed up with that side of my life, Shannon." Garth tugged her to a halt and slipped his hands under the curve of her hair. He brushed his mouth across hers and smiled faintly. "Don't look at me like that. It's for your own good, honey. You wouldn't like the kind of people who will be at that party. Believe me. I don't particularly like them myself. It's going to be strictly business."
    "And you don't want me mixed up with your business."
    "No. Speaking of your driving, though... " he went on thoughtfully.
    Shannon stared at him, confused. "What about my driving?"
    "I really think you ought to have a bigger car than that little Fiat. You'd be safer in something that puts more steel around you."
    "Garth, we were discussing your plans for the weekend, not my car!"
    "There's nothing left to discuss concerning the weekend. But I am going to give your Fiat some more thought."
    "How can you object to my driving a sports car when you drive one yourself?" she asked, exasperated and hurt. She wanted to argue about the party, and Garth seemed determined to switch the conversation to the subject of her car.
    "It's not the same thing, Shannon." Garth resumed walking. Shannon's hand enfolded in his. "The roads around here are narrow and winding. You don't use your car much but when you do I want you to be safe. How would you like a full-size Buick or Ford?"
    "Are you kidding? After driving a