All Wound Up

by Jaci Burton

  “Hi, Reid. I heard you were in town and getting ready to start the project. I couldn’t wait to get inside here again. I hope I’m not bothering you or anything. If I am, I can take off.”

  “Hey, Sam. You’re not a bother. Come on in. Though the place is still as dusty as it was when we did the walk-through in the spring. Are you sure you want to get dirty?”

  She waved her hand as she stepped in. “I don’t mind. I’ve been arranging flower baskets all day for an event. There are probably leaves in my hair.”

  As she walked by, he inhaled the fresh scent of—what was that? Freesia? Roses? Hell if he knew since he didn’t know jack about flowers, only that Sam smelled damn good. And there were no leaves in her hair.

  She turned in a circle, surveying both up and down the main room. “It’s amazing, isn’t it?”

  He laughed. “Right now it’s a dump.”

  Her gaze settled on him. “Oh, come on. Surely you can see beyond the trash and the layers of dust to what it can be. Do you have ideas yet? I mean, of course you do, because you’re here to renovate.” She spied the rolled-up documents in his hand. “Do you have blueprints?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Care to share? I’d love to see the plans you’ve worked up.”

  “Actually, the general contractor is due to show up here shortly, along with Luke and Logan. You’re welcome to hang out while we go over them.”

  She pulled her phone out of her back pocket. “Unfortunately, I can’t. I have a delivery to make in about thirty minutes. But I’d really like to see the blueprints. Are you busy for dinner tonight?”

  “Uh, dinner?”

  “Sure. Why don’t you come over to my place? I make a mean plate of spaghetti. If you’re not busy with your family. I know you’d like to get reacquainted with them, so I don’t want to step all over that.”

  “No, it’s not that. I’ve been here a couple days already, so we’ve done the reacquainted stuff.” He didn’t know what the hell was going on. Was she asking him out, or was she just interested in seeing the blueprints?

  “Perfect. Give me your phone and I’ll put my address and cell number in it.”

  He handed his phone over and Sam typed in her info.

  “Is seven okay?” she asked. “That’ll give me time to close up the shop and get things going.”

  “Sure.”

  “Great.” She grasped his arm. “I’m so glad you’re here, Reid. I’ll see you later. You and your blueprints.”

  She breezed out the door and he found himself staring at the closed door, wondering what the hell had just happened.

  Sam probably just wanted to get a good look at the blueprints when they’d have more time. She was interested in the old building. Not in him.

  And he wasn’t interested in her. Or any woman. He was in town to refurbish the mercantile, and nothing more.

  But at least he’d get to enjoy her company and a home-cooked meal tonight.

  SAM WENT BACK TO THE SHOP, WISHING SHE’D HAD more time to check out Reid—check out the blueprints. Not that Reid wasn’t some awesome eye candy. Today he’d worn loose jeans, boots and a short-sleeved T-shirt that showed off his tanned, well-muscled arms.

  It had taken everything in her to walk out of the mercantile. Fortunately, she had a job and a timeline, and that always came first. She loaded up the flowers that Georgia Burnett had ordered for the chamber of commerce luncheon today, put them in her van and drove them over to the offices. Georgia, who’d had a terrible fall last year and had spent several months laid up, was back to her old cheery, mobile self again. And since she was the mother of two of Sam’s friends, Emma and Molly, Georgia was like a mother to Sam as well. Which was so nice since the only family Sam had left was her Grammy Claire.

  And family was a big deal to Sam.

  “Hello, Georgia, how are you?”

  “Doing wonderfully, Samantha. And you?”

  “Great.” She pressed a kiss to Georgia’s cheek while simultaneously juggling two baskets of flowers.

  “The baskets are gorgeous, honey,” Georgia said. “The tables are already set up inside, so you can place them in the center of each one.”

  “Will do.”

  Sam went about her business, and once she finished, she said good-bye to Georgia and headed back to the shop. She had several individual flower orders to prepare and deliver, which took up the remainder of her day.

  Which suited her just fine. Busy was good for business, and business had been great lately. She had two weddings coming up, including Georgia’s daughter Molly’s.

  When her phone buzzed, she smiled. Speaking of the bride-to-be . . .

  “Hey, Molly,” she said, putting her phone on speaker so she could continue to work.

  “Are you sure the peach roses are going to come in on time?” Molly asked.

  “Yup.”

  “And how about the lilies? Oh, and the corsages for my mom and for Carter’s mom?”

  “All under control, honey.”

  Molly paused. “I’m being a neurotic mess, aren’t I?”

  “Nope. You’re being a bride. This is normal.”

  “I have a checklist of items; and then I came across flowers, and I know we’ve gone over this a hundred times, but you know, I just had to check.”

  Sam was used to this. Brides called her all the time, even if everything was perfect. “Of course you had to check. Call anytime. But Molly? I’ve got this. Trust me.”

  “Okay. Thanks, Sam.”

  “You’re welcome. I’ll talk to you soon.” She hung up, figuring Molly would call her again tomorrow.

  Which didn’t bother her at all, because as a florist, her job was to keep her customers happy. And when one of her customers was also one of her closest friends, that counted double.

  She delivered the afternoon flowers, then came back to clean up the shop and prep things for tomorrow morning. By then it was closing time, and she made a quick grocery list so she could dash in and get what she needed for dinner tonight.

  She had no idea why she’d invited Reid over for dinner. First she had to go in and start blabbering at him like she had some kind of motormouth disease.

  Ugh. What was wrong with her, anyway? She was normally calm and in control of herself.

  Except around Reid for some reason. Ever since that night at Logan and Des’s wedding when she’d sat next to him and felt an instant ping of attraction.

  And once it was there, she’d been ridiculously shy around him.

  Normally when a woman was shy, she’d be quiet, right?

  But not Samantha. No, she had run-of-the-mouth issues when she was around a man she was attracted to.

  So what did she do with Reid? She invited him to dinner. An impulse suggestion, for sure, and only because she really wanted to see the blueprints. But was that the only reason? When he’d been in town in the spring for the wedding, she’d definitely felt that tug of . . . something.

  Then he’d gone back to Boston and she’d ignored it then, figuring it was nothing more than a passing mutual interest in the mercantile, but seeing him today, that tug had been something entirely different, and totally biological.

  She chewed on her bottom lip and decided to call her best friend, Megan, for some advice. She punched in Megan’s number on her phone.

  “What’s up, Sam?” Megan asked when she answered.

  “Reid McCormack is back in town.”

  “Oh, great. So he’s going to start work on the mercantile.”

  “Yes. I popped over there today when I saw him go in. And then I invited him to dinner.”

  Megan paused. “That’s interesting. Why?”

  Sam pulled up the stool behind the counter and took a seat. “I don’t know. Impulse. And, you know, I got to talking to him. I might have overtalked.”

  “You babbled.”

  Leave it to her best friend to know her so well. “Yes, I babbled. I guess I babbled my way into inviting him over for dinner. We were chatting a
bout the building and he had the blueprints, which I was really interested in, and I could tell he was busy, so it was an impulse thing.”

  “Always go with your impulses, Sam. You’re obviously attracted to him. Did he say yes?”

  “He did. And why do you think I’m attracted to him?”

  “Everyone saw the way the two of you hung out at the mercantile in the spring.”

  Sam frowned. “What do you mean, everyone saw? What did they see?”

  “Oh, you know. Heads together, wandering around checking the place out. And when you climbed up the ladder to look at the tin ceiling? He checked out your butt.”

  Sam leaned her arms on the counter. “He did not. He did? Really?”

  “He did. Chelsea and I were watching. And he was not looking at the ceiling. He was looking at your butt.”

  “Now that is interesting.”

  “I know. So enjoy dinner. And see what happens for dessert.”

  “I will. But you know, I didn’t invite him for dinner to have . . . dessert with him.”

  Megan laughed. “Sure you didn’t.”

  “Megan, I’m serious. I just wanted to see his blueprints.”

  “Is that what we’re calling it now?”

  Sam rolled her eyes. “You’re so funny.”

  “I know I am. Call me tomorrow with all the details.”

  “Okay.”

  She hung up, grabbed her purse and locked up the shop, then headed out to her car. Once inside, she looked at her phone to double-check her grocery list.

  She was going to cook a spaghetti dinner for Reid McCormack tonight, and then she was going to look over his blueprints. And by blueprints, she really meant actual blueprints. Nothing involving “dessert.”

  But if he checked out her butt again, dessert might be back on the menu. And she wasn’t talking sweets.

  FIND YOUR HEART’S DESIRE . . .

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