The New Guy in Town

by Teresa Southwick

  He’s turning her town upside down!

  It’s a dirty job, but someone has to be Blackwater Lake’s most eligible bachelor. Sexy newcomer Sam Hart goes through women like water. Florist Faith Connelly should know—she delivers the millionaire banker’s first-date rose, followed by the inevitable date number two break-up bouquet. But when Sam gallantly offers temporary shelter after a fire sweeps through town, it’s the single mother who could end up burned again.

  The sassy town sweetheart, her adorable daughter and Sam all together under one roof? The divorced businessman even has the perfect flower for a third date with Faith—the one that could tempt him to risk his heart again. Could love be this money man’s bottom line after all?

  He cupped her face in his hands and lowered his mouth to hers.

  The touch was meant to be sweet and tender but quickly turned hot and demanding. Sam traced her lips with his tongue and Faith opened to him. She settled her hands on his chest, pressing closer, and he slid an arm around her waist, holding her tighter.

  The sound of their breathing filled his ears, drowning out the night sounds. He wanted her and she wanted him right back. But... There was that damn word again.

  He lifted his head. “Faith, we can’t— There’s a—”

  “Wedding reception,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.

  “Yeah.” He stepped away from temptation and willed her to believe what he was going to say. “You should know this isn’t sudden—kissing you, I mean.”

  “I know. It wasn’t for me either.”

  “I’ve wanted to do that for a while.”

  “I can’t say I haven’t wanted you to.”

  “Okay, then.” He blew out a long breath. “Fair warning. At an appropriate time, there will be more kissing. And stuff. Unless you’re not interested. I’ll back off. Just say the word and—”

  She shook her head. “I’m all in favor of...stuff.”

  “Good.”

  “It’s love I have a problem with.”

  So did he. How perfect was that?

  THE BACHELORS OF BLACKWATER LAKE: They won’t be single for long!

  Dear Reader,

  Sam Hart is handsome, rich, a bachelor and the new guy in town. The single ladies of Blackwater Lake are quivering with excitement at the prospect of being the girl to capture his heart. But not one of them can get to date number three. A fact that florist Faith Connelly is well aware of, since he orders break-up bouquets from her. Clearly he’s all flash and no substance, which makes him safe to flirt with.

  But that’s it. Unlike other single Blackwater Lake women, Faith is busy running her business and raising a young daughter. She isn’t interested in dating Sam, or any other man for that matter. Then an out-of-control wildfire forces Faith and Phoebe to evacuate from their home and temporarily move into Sam’s.

  There’s something about sharing living space that brings down the walls around even the most guarded hearts. And Cupid gets a little help from an adorable, precocious eight-year-old matchmaker.

  I hope this story makes you smile and warms your heart as much as it did mine.

  Happy reading!

  The New Guy in Town

  Teresa Southwick

  Teresa Southwick lives with her husband in Las Vegas, the city that reinvents itself every day. An avid fan of romance novels, she is delighted to be living out her dream of writing for Harlequin.

  Books by Teresa Southwick

  Harlequin Special Edition

  The Bachelors of Blackwater Lake

  Just a Little Bit Married

  A Word with the Bachelor

  How to Land Her Lawman

  The Widow’s Bachelor Bargain

  A Decent Proposal

  The Rancher Who Took Her In

  One Night with the Boss

  Finding Family...and Forever?

  Montana Mavericks: The Baby Bonanza

  Her Maverick M.D.

  Montana Mavericks: What Happened at the Wedding?

  An Officer and a Maverick

  Montana Mavericks: 20 Years in the Saddle!

  From Maverick to Daddy

  Mercy Medical Montana

  Her McKnight in Shining Armor

  The Doctor’s Dating Bargain

  Montana Mavericks: Back in the Saddle

  The Maverick’s Christmas Homecoming

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.

  Join Harlequin My Rewards today and earn a FREE ebook!

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  To my father, Frank Boyle.

  I learned to love reading and writing from you, and the lessons were priceless.

  Miss you, Dad.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Excerpt from The Chase by Vanessa Fewings

  Chapter One

  Just because she’d sworn off men didn’t mean she couldn’t appreciate a gorgeous one. That explained Faith Connelly’s little heart flutter as Sam Hart walked briskly across the elegant lobby of his financial building before stopping in front of her flower cart.

  “Don’t tell me,” she said to him. “You need to order a breakup bouquet. I can tell by the look on your face that date number two tanked.”

  “That’s harsh.” But Sam smiled a slow, sexy smile that said she was right and the date from hell was completely his fault. He wore his willingness to own the blame like a badge of honor. “And how can you know that? Maybe I’m here to tell you that it was love at first sight.”

  “Right.” She made a scoffing sound. “And I kissed a frog into a handsome prince. Seriously, Sam, do you want the usual sentiment on the card? ‘You’re fantastic, but this isn’t going to work.’ Or there’s the ever-popular ‘It’s not you, it’s me.’ I can get more creative with the message if you’d like.”

  He slid his fingers into the pockets of his jeans. He could wear jeans to work because he owned a multimillion-dollar financial company and set the dress code. Sometimes he wore a suit and that was a swoon-worthy look, too. “Give me a for instance.”

  She thought for a moment then met his skeptical gaze. “How about this? It’s short, sweet, to the point and kind of poetic really. ‘Roses are red. Violets are blue. This won’t work because you’re a shrew.’”

  His mouth twitched, then he shook his head and laughed. When he did that he was so handsome it should be illegal. His brown hair was cut short, but there were hints that it would be curly if allowed to grow. The straight nose and square jaw alone would have women throwing their panties at him, but it was his eyes that sealed the deal. They were dark blue and full of glitter and sin and danger—if a girl wasn’t careful.

  “Don’t give up your day job to write inspirational verses for greeting cards,” he said.

  “The thought never crossed my mind. I love working with the flowers. And another
perk of my job is torturing you about your women.”

  “My women?” He put on an innocent act, pretending indignation. “You make me sound like the pharaoh with forty-seven wives.”

  “If the shoe fits...” She was teasing. Mostly.

  Since he’d moved to Blackwater Lake, Montana a few months ago, Sam Hart had quickly become a hot topic of gossip. Because he was definitely hot, and that made the gossip juicier. His looks weren’t all women noticed, though that lean, athletic body made more than one female heart skip a beat. When you factored in his impressive net worth as a member of the wealthy Hart family, attention from the opposite sex looking for love—or just a wealthy husband—was a fact of life. It was a dirty job, but someone had to be the town’s most eligible bachelor.

  His expression turned adorably self-effacing and wounded. “You have no faith in me, Faith.”

  “Really?” She tsked. “How long have you been trying to work that into a conversation with me?”

  “Probably since we met.” He shrugged his broad shoulders. “But here’s the thing—I like women and they seem to like me. You’re judging, Miss Connelly, and not in a good way. I’m picking up shades of assumption from you. Why is that? I’m a swell guy.”

  “If you’re trying to seduce me, Sam, I should probably tell you that it’s not working.” And never would.

  “Darn.” He snapped his fingers. “How can you be so sure?”

  Besides the fact that she believed love was a four-letter word, the bad kind, she knew he was a player. “Seriously? No one knows you better than the plant lady.”

  “You do have a way with flowers,” he said, looking all meek and faux innocent.

  “And you have a way with women. That makes you one of my best customers.” She held up her fingers to count the ways. “A single yellow rose on the first date to indicate sunny feelings, warmth and welcome. The color holds no overtones of romance and indicates purely platonic emotions.”

  “So you told me.” There was amusement in those blue eyes. “And you were right. It’s a crowd-pleaser.”

  “The second date you buy a mixed bouquet so there’s no hint of commitment. If things don’t go well, there will be a lovely and tasteful arrangement to let a lady know not to wait by the phone for a call that will never come.” She met his gaze. “FYI, I always use peonies in the arrangement to indicate their indignation and your shame.”

  “Do you put that on the card?”

  “It’s enough that I know the significance,” she said.

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” He frowned slightly. “And you see this flower fetish of mine as a flaw?”

  “On the contrary. It’s a public service. A woman always knows where she stands with you.”

  “Just out of curiosity, what’s the appropriate bloom to offer on a third date?” he asked.

  “Good question. I’d have to do some research. But never, under any circumstances, go with lavender. It conveys enchantment, as in love at first sight.” Faith studied him again. “Why are you asking about a third date? Do you want to give me breaking news? Is there something I should know? Maybe someone who has snagged a cherished and sought-after third-time’s-the-charm date with the elusive Sam Hart? Do I need an inventory change? Possibly to get ready for a wedding?”

  “God forbid. Why would you say that?”

  “Because a third date with you almost never happens, Sam.”

  “That can’t be true.” His expression turned thoughtful, obviously trying to come up with something to prove her wrong, and then he sighed. “Am I that predictable?”

  “Sadly, yes,” she said smugly.

  “Wow. Remind me to change things up.”

  “Not on my account. If you ever settle down, my bottom line will seriously suffer. A money guy like you should understand that.” She leveled her index finger in his direction to emphasize her point. “And I can’t afford to jeopardize my revenue stream while saving to put Phoebe through college.”

  “Your daughter is eight.” His voice was wry. “You’ve got ten years.”

  “A single mom has to plan carefully.” Because thanks to her bastard ex-husband, who walked out on her when she got pregnant, she was raising her daughter alone.

  “Well, never fear, plant lady. I’m not getting married.” His devil-may-care air slipped, a tell that he would only commit to dodging a trip down the aisle.

  “That sounds fairly adamant.”

  “Because it is,” he confirmed.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll keep your secret. If the single women of Blackwater Lake found out they have no chance to win your affections, it could cramp your style.” Although women had a bad habit of believing they could be the one to change a man’s mind. Faith wasn’t one of them, however. “And your style is going to pad my daughter’s education fund.”

  “It’s good to know that professional confidentiality is for lawyers, doctors and florists.”

  His blunt admission fertilized her curiosity about his aversion to matrimony but the whys of it were a conversation for another day. “So where should I deliver the breakup bouquet?”

  “I haven’t confirmed I’m ordering one.” He stopped as something occurred to him. “Do you really call it that?”

  “Of course. I could do a whole marketing campaign on it thanks to you.”

  “Ouch.”

  “I’m not making fun of you—”

  “Yes,” he said. “You are.”

  “Okay, I am.” She grinned. “But I do it with a great deal of affection.” And a fair amount of flirting.

  Her inner flirt had been in permanent time-out until she’d met Sam Hart. He was a walking, talking warning about why she’d sworn off men. Lack of commitment. Flitting from one woman to the next. Pretty to look at but shallow as a cookie sheet. The silver lining was that the reminder came with built-in caution to never let her interaction with him be more than business. Hence, he was safe to flirt with.

  “Okay, then, at the risk of making you even more insufferable than you already are, I’d like to send a lovely, tasteful bouquet. With peonies,” he added.

  It was really hard not to gloat. But she was nothing if not a plant professional. “Where would you like it delivered? And what’s the name on the card?”

  “Blackwater Lake Lodge—”

  “Ah. A tourist.”

  “Really?” His tone scolded her.

  “Not judging,” she said quickly. “Just an observation. A name would be helpful.”

  He hesitated for a moment, then sighed. “Kiki Daniels. And don’t you dare—”

  “Never crossed my mind,” she lied, pressing her lips together to suppress a smile or any words that might try to slip out.

  “I don’t believe you.” He gave her the room number and instructed her to put it on the credit card she had on file for him. “You’re dying to say something so spit it out before you explode.”

  “Okay. Does she look like a Kiki? I mean perky and—” she held her hands out in front of her chest “—lots of personality? Long blond hair and flaky as a French pastry?”

  “Wow,” he said. “Stereotype much?”

  “It’s just that I know you so it’s not exactly stereotyping.” She had an order pad and pen ready. “What do you want the card to say?”

  He thought for a moment. “‘It’s been fun. Best of luck.’ Sign it Sam.”

  “Past tense and positive. Got it.” She jotted down the words. “I’ll take care of this for you. Anything else?”

  “Yes, actually. My parents are in town and it’s my mother’s birthday. I’ve put off shopping because the woman has everything.” He dragged his fingers through his hair.

  “I can do a beautiful arrangement. What’s her favorite color?”

  He stared at her for several moments. “I d
idn’t know there would be a pop quiz. And don’t even think about asking what her favorite flower is.”

  “What kind of a son are you? How can you not know your mother’s favorite color?” She was teasing.

  “Hold that thought.” He pulled out his cell phone and hit speed dial. A moment later he said, “Ellie, I need some information. Okay. You’re right. That was abrupt. Hi, how are you?” There was an impatient look on his face as he listened. “Glad to hear it. What’s mom’s favorite color and flower?” He nodded. “Got it. Thanks. See you tonight at dinner.” He met her gaze. “Star lilies. And pink.”

  “Excellent. Pink ribbon it is.” She wrote down his sister’s address which was where his parents were staying. “I’ll go back to the store and put together something very special for her and deliver it on my way home.”

  “Thanks, Faith.”

  “Anything else?” she asked.

  “That should do it.” He smiled. “You’re a lifesaver.”

  “Anytime. Enjoy your evening.”

  Faith watched him walk out the building’s double glass doors and objectively analyzed the man’s butt. On a scale of one to ten his was an eleven and a half, which made her sigh. There was no denying she loved owning her business and working with flowers. The colors and scent of the blooms. Putting different ones together for a colorful and creative effect. Everything.

  Then Sam Hart had moved to town and turned into a lucrative account. Work became a lot more interesting, not just from teasing him, but because it gave her a chance to deliver flowers and get a look at the women he rejected. Somehow it was comforting to know that perfectly pretty women didn’t have perfect lives any more than she did.

  But it also made her curious. Every woman she’d met so far had been both beautiful and nice, which made her wonder why not even one of them had earned date number three. Someday she was going to find out what was up with that. So sue her—she was female and liked gossip as much as any other female in Blackwater Lake.

  * * *

  A week after his mother’s birthday, Sam Hart was talking to his sister on the phone. He leaned back in his office chair and glanced at the paperwork on his desk. The sheer volume was a measure of his success, which should make him happy. Should being the operative word. He thought moving closer to Ellie and her family and his brother Linc, who’d recently relocated, would make his restlessness go away. It hadn’t.