LITMIR.BIZ

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Caulfield was coming back to Red Ridge. Beautiful, rich, deceitful Blair Caulfield, the girl he’d once loved, was on her way to her hometown to cause havoc in the guise of tending to her ailing Aunt Muriel.

      Jackson wanted to think he was over her, but one minute he was on the phone hearing the news of her return from a close friend and the next minute he was finding solace in the arms of the unsuspecting Sammie Gold.

      In a way, Sammie had been just what he’d needed that night. To make him forget Blair and the heartache she’d caused him.

      By the time Sammie had thrown her arms around his neck and kissed him, it was all the encouragement he’d needed. And making love to Sammie had been hot. But his lust for her had shocked him back to his senses the following morning. He’d had to do the right thing and set some boundaries.

      “You’re driving this time.” Sammie’s voice broke into his thoughts.

      Before he could argue she climbed into the passenger seat and buckled up. She added, “I can get a better feel for the lay of the land this way. Without having to concentrate on the road.”

      She had a point. Jackson accepted her decision and settled behind the wheel. Sammie had been through a lot lately and she was trying to cope with all the changes in her life. He couldn’t blame her for being gun-shy of driving in a town she didn’t know in a powerhouse of a new car.

      He set the drafts in her lap and started the engine. At least driving would keep his eyes on the road and not on her. When she had driven the Navigator earlier, he’d had freedom enough to look his fill. She was cute, with a slender frame and a pleasant face dotted with a few freckles across the bridge of her nose that she tried to cover up with makeup. But she wasn’t even close to the kind of woman who usually attracted him. So why, he asked himself, was he drawn to her? “Do you like hot and spicy?” he asked.

      Sammie stammered, “I, uh …” Then she turned in the seat to face him, her body at an angle and both brows digging into her forehead. “What exactly do you mean?”

      Jackson grinned. He added innocence to her list of attributes. “Food, Sammie. I’m talking Cajun. There’s this great place just outside of town.”

      “Oh.” She was so dang relieved she might have melted into the upholstery as she sank back down in her seat. “That sounds fine.”

      It was refreshing to be with a guileless woman for a change, Jackson thought. Someone whose expression told you exactly what she was thinking. She wasn’t coy or pretentious. It was a rare thing.

      An hour later, Jackson spread out Sammie’s drafts for Boot Barrage on the cleared restaurant table. They’d eaten chicken and rice and now sat beside each other sipping iced tea.

      Sammie took a big gulp of hers. “Wow, my mouth’s on fire.”

      “I thought you liked Cajun food.”

      Sammie gave him a sheepish look. “I’ve never tried it before. I’m not into spicy.”

      “Is that a fact,” Jackson remarked, not allowing his mind to go wicked. “Why’d you agree to it then?”

      She stared into his eyes. “I figured this is my year for firsts.”

      Her gaze darted to his mouth and lingered long enough to make his groin tighten. The sweet smell of peaches drifted to his nose again. “I mean … I don’t usually venture too far from my comfort zone,” she said.

      “You don’t?”

      “No. My tastes aren’t very adventurous.”

      “Maybe you should change that.”

      She shook her head and her short hair moved and then fell right back into place again. “There are enough changes in my life right now.”

      Jackson swallowed the last of his tea. “Are we still talking food here?”

      Sammie hesitated, then lifted tentative eyes his way. “Uh, just so you know, I’m not the kind of girl … who experiments with food … just because it’s available.”

      No. She wasn’t talking about food. “I knew that about you.”

      “Good, because I don’t think I’d try Cajun again … just for the record. Though, it’s pretty on the plate and all.”

      Jackson hid a smile. They’d already decided this in Las Vegas. They had agreed not to sleep together again, but apparently Sammie had more to say on the subject. “Okay, no more Cajun food for you.”

      She smiled with relief and Jackson pointed to the paper laid out on the table, returning to the business at hand. “Now, about your designs …”

      The next few days flew by. Sammie was busier than she’d been in her entire life. She’d made calls to her private boot venders and haggled over prices, set up a whole new Excel spreadsheet for taking inventory, ordered window dressings for the shop and interviewed for part-time help. At night she’d unpack her belongings at her apartment, do laundry and make herself a salad before collapsing into bed.

      She’d been in touch with Jackson every day. He didn’t disappoint on the business end of things. He wasn’t lying about helping her get the new enterprise off the ground. What they needed was a good start and Jackson knew some tricks of the trade. He’d stopped by her apartment once to check on her progress, and this morning he’d beaten her in getting to the shop. She saw his king-cab Ford truck as she pulled into the small parking lot behind Boot Barrage.

      She opened the back door and walked in on him as he measured a wall with a thick chrome tape measure. His back was to her and he didn’t bother turning around. “Mornin’,” he said over his shoulder. “The crew will be here in a few minutes. Thought I’d speak with the contractor before he gets started in here.”

      “Good morning,” she said quietly. She closed the door behind her and tried not to gape at Jackson. He wore a snug cotton T-shirt that hugged his shoulders and a pair of faded blue jeans tight enough for images to flash through her mind of how good he’d looked in the raw.

      He also had a leather tool belt wrapped around his waist.

      A tool belt.Really?

      Sammie held back a sigh. Every time she saw him, she fell a little more in lust with him. But that was only because he was beautiful. Eye candy. A hunk.

      “Okay, that’s great. I can’t wait until they get started on this place.”

      Jackson grunted in agreement and then went back to jotting down figures on a clipboard. He had arranged for a desk and chair from one of his offices to be delivered the other day. She’d set up her laptop on it and had worked here whenever she could.

      “You coming to Callie and Tagg’s for dinner tonight?” he asked, still concentrating on the figures he jotted down.

      Her dear friend Callie had been patient with her. She’d invited her over every night this week, but Sammie had been too busy. She’d promised her that tonight would be the night—she’d missed her friend and they were both anxious to spend time together—but Sammie hadn’t known that Jackson was invited, too.

      “Yes, I’m going.”

      “No sense in both of us driving out there in separate cars,” he said, studying another wall he was measuring. “I’ll drive you to Red Ridge.”

      “Oh, no. That’s not nec—”

      Jackson turned to her and a jolt of new desire paraded through her stomach. He was every woman’s fantasy, a blond-haired, blue-eyed tool-belt-wearing hunk of a man. Sammie had always prided herself on not being a shallow female until she’d met Jackson Worth. He was in a class all by himself as far as she was concerned. But she’d reminded herself a hundred times that business and pleasure didn’t mix. Especially not for her.

      Her creep of an ex-boyfriend, Allen Marksom, had driven that point home.

      “Oh,”

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