Read Online The Cottage Next Door by Georgia Bockoven - Free Book Online
Authors: Georgia Bockoven
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took off.”
There wasn’t one guy in Diana’s circle of friends who would dream of doing something as wildly romantic, let alone own it after it fell apart. What was even harder to imagine was any of them having empathy for the girl who’d turned them down.
Feeling like a hypocrite, Diana repeated her mother’s favorite platitude. “Give it some time. It’ll get easier.”
“Really? That’s the best you can do?” The playfully mocking tone took the edge off the question.
Diana laughed. “Pretty lame, huh?”
“Worse—it’s actually true,” he admitted. “It took six months, but I finally reached the point that I could watch a Giants game for more than five minutes and be able to tell you what happened on the field.”
“And now?”
“I can get through an entire inning, no problem. A friend of mine recently gave me a couple of tickets for their next home game that I’m going to use. Not in the same section, but close enough.”
“Good for you.” Gathering the weight of the idiotic thing she’d done on one side of a scale, and Michael’s screwy miscalculation on the other, her side came in several pounds heavier. She needed more time to get where he was now. Still, he gave her hope.
“Want to go with me?”
It was obvious by the way he asked that the invitation wasn’t planned. “Who are they playing?”
“Does it matter?”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “Of course it does. I might have to cheer for the Giants if they were playing a team I don’t like.”
Michael laughed. “Good answer. I’ll check the tickets and get back to you.”
Chapter Eight
I T WAS NEAR midnight when Michael dropped off Diana at the cottage. Even though she was still operating on Kansas time, and should have been wrung out, she wasn’t ready for the night to end. Plus, she didn’t have to go to work in the morning. She had four more days she could sleep in as late as she wanted.
She reached for the door handle. “It’s been a great day. The best I’ve had in a long time. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I had a good time, too.”
She got out of the car and leaned down to say one last thing before going inside. “Would it be all right if I stopped by the Carmel gallery tomorrow?”
No, it was not all right . “Friday would be better. It’s slower then.”
Obviously disappointed, she shrugged and said, “Okay.”
“Come around noon.” He could handle this. He’d give her a quick tour, and then take her to lunch. “There’s a great pub on Ocean Avenue where they—”
“Only if you let me buy,” she insisted.
“This particular pub gives me a great discount.”
The one thing he could have said to make her rethink her decision. “Really?”
“Sometimes,” he admitted. “It depends on who’s working that day.”
She smiled. He was so easy. “See you tomorrow night.”
He waited until she was at the door before he backed out of the driveway. Diana waved and stepped inside, dropped her purse on the entry table, and went into the bedroom to change into jeans and a lightweight sweatshirt. She put on a pair of flip-flops, then stepped out of them. Where she was going she didn’t need shoes.
Minutes later she opened the door and saw Michael leaning against the fender of his car, his arms folded across his chest, his lips curved into a crooked grin.
“You’re fast,” he said.
“What are you doing here?”
“It seemed like a good night for a walk on the beach.”
She moved to join him. “How did you know?”
“Just a hunch.” He held out his hand. “Shall we go?”
Again with the hand-holding. Was this something everyone did in California, or was it unique to Michael? Not that she minded. Actually, she kind of liked it. Probably because she didn’t sense he was doing it for any other reason than he liked it, too.
When they reached the wooden stairway to the beach, Michael sat down to take off his tennis shoes and put them next to a patch of maiden grass.
There wasn’t one guy in Diana’s circle of friends who would dream of doing something as wildly romantic, let alone own it after it fell apart. What was even harder to imagine was any of them having empathy for the girl who’d turned them down.
Feeling like a hypocrite, Diana repeated her mother’s favorite platitude. “Give it some time. It’ll get easier.”
“Really? That’s the best you can do?” The playfully mocking tone took the edge off the question.
Diana laughed. “Pretty lame, huh?”
“Worse—it’s actually true,” he admitted. “It took six months, but I finally reached the point that I could watch a Giants game for more than five minutes and be able to tell you what happened on the field.”
“And now?”
“I can get through an entire inning, no problem. A friend of mine recently gave me a couple of tickets for their next home game that I’m going to use. Not in the same section, but close enough.”
“Good for you.” Gathering the weight of the idiotic thing she’d done on one side of a scale, and Michael’s screwy miscalculation on the other, her side came in several pounds heavier. She needed more time to get where he was now. Still, he gave her hope.
“Want to go with me?”
It was obvious by the way he asked that the invitation wasn’t planned. “Who are they playing?”
“Does it matter?”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “Of course it does. I might have to cheer for the Giants if they were playing a team I don’t like.”
Michael laughed. “Good answer. I’ll check the tickets and get back to you.”
Chapter Eight
I T WAS NEAR midnight when Michael dropped off Diana at the cottage. Even though she was still operating on Kansas time, and should have been wrung out, she wasn’t ready for the night to end. Plus, she didn’t have to go to work in the morning. She had four more days she could sleep in as late as she wanted.
She reached for the door handle. “It’s been a great day. The best I’ve had in a long time. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I had a good time, too.”
She got out of the car and leaned down to say one last thing before going inside. “Would it be all right if I stopped by the Carmel gallery tomorrow?”
No, it was not all right . “Friday would be better. It’s slower then.”
Obviously disappointed, she shrugged and said, “Okay.”
“Come around noon.” He could handle this. He’d give her a quick tour, and then take her to lunch. “There’s a great pub on Ocean Avenue where they—”
“Only if you let me buy,” she insisted.
“This particular pub gives me a great discount.”
The one thing he could have said to make her rethink her decision. “Really?”
“Sometimes,” he admitted. “It depends on who’s working that day.”
She smiled. He was so easy. “See you tomorrow night.”
He waited until she was at the door before he backed out of the driveway. Diana waved and stepped inside, dropped her purse on the entry table, and went into the bedroom to change into jeans and a lightweight sweatshirt. She put on a pair of flip-flops, then stepped out of them. Where she was going she didn’t need shoes.
Minutes later she opened the door and saw Michael leaning against the fender of his car, his arms folded across his chest, his lips curved into a crooked grin.
“You’re fast,” he said.
“What are you doing here?”
“It seemed like a good night for a walk on the beach.”
She moved to join him. “How did you know?”
“Just a hunch.” He held out his hand. “Shall we go?”
Again with the hand-holding. Was this something everyone did in California, or was it unique to Michael? Not that she minded. Actually, she kind of liked it. Probably because she didn’t sense he was doing it for any other reason than he liked it, too.
When they reached the wooden stairway to the beach, Michael sat down to take off his tennis shoes and put them next to a patch of maiden grass.
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