His matter-of-fact tone piqued her temper. He had relayed his mother’s message with efficient courtesy. As if he hadn’t ever kissed her, hadn’t caressed her, fully clothed, until she felt naked, hadn’t given her a little gift that could cause big trouble for both of them.

She was still wearing the ruby strawberry for reasons she couldn’t begin to explain, not even to herself.

“Oh. Well, now you can check it off your list.”

“Yup.”

“Parr, I really have to get going.”

“I won’t keep you. Just so you know, I’ll be back in Iminga within a week.”

“Why?”

“I’m looking forward to seeing you, Strawberry.” His velvety voice dropped still lower, sending a quiver through her whole body. “Be good till I get there.”

She started to protest, then realized he’d ended the call. Mary Beth stayed in the car, not seeing what was around her, lost in thoughts that verged on anger. Who the hell did Parr Weston think he was? Was he expecting her to swoon backward into his manly arms?

What had happened between them couldn’t continue. She had to see to that.

Frowning, she tossed the smartphone into her purse.

The mall was a cheerful place, brightly lit and filled with strolling shoppers. A few scattered groups of teenagers eyed each other and were watched in turn by security guards. It wasn’t the kind of place where they could run wild, though. The customers were mostly families out bargain hunting and couples wandering hand in hand. She saw a few young women like herself who seemed to be there for retail therapy, however they defined it.

Once inside the doors, Mary Beth stopped for a few seconds at the bridal shop that dominated the entrance. Stiffly posed mannequins stood under spotlights in different gowns of lace or satin or silk. Something for everyone, she thought idly. But nothing she liked.

The billowing tulle that draped the window was parted by a sales associate, who peered at her curiously through the display. Mary Beth smiled awkwardly and moved away.

She entered a large department store, pausing for a moment to get her bearings, then headed toward a sign that said TODAY’S KITCHEN. A dazzling array of goods filled the glass-shelved aisles. Idly, she inspected the displays, not ready to choose anything. The decisions to be made were overwhelming in number.

After a while, she began to feel depressed. The silverware patterns and gleaming china were all nice. But the thought of picking out items she would supposedly look at for the rest of her life was getting to her.

The colorful pot-and-pan sets endorsed by celebrity chefs had even less appeal than the tableware. Mary Beth cringed at the sight of pricey toasters and waffle makers, walking away quickly through an endless array of glasses of different types.

Some other time, maybe. Not now.