Worth The Risk. Charlene Sands

hint of mischief and were aimed at her calf-length boots.

      He studied them, his eyes raking over the soft mocha leather straps and silver studs. She had her jeans tucked into them today, making her feel more like a Southwest woman than a Boston greenhorn.

      He met her gaze. “Nice.”

      Self-conscious and a little flustered, she rose from the table to face him. “Thanks. I’m a walking advertisement for my boots.”

      “Who wouldn’t stop to admire … them,” he asked as his gaze flowed over her legs, moved higher to touch on her breasts and then finally landed on her eyes.

      Rattled, Sammie stammered, “I—I uh, didn’t expect you this morning.”

      “It’s almost lunchtime.”

      She shrugged. She wouldn’t argue semantics with him. “Oh, I guess it is. I’ve been busy and didn’t realize the time.”

      “Busy? Doing what?” Jackson scanned the room. “The place is empty.”

      “I know. I’ve been busy thinking… about what it’ll look like when it’s not empty.”

      “Can you put those thoughts down on paper?”

      “I already have. I’ve worked on a draft. It’s at my apartment.”

      “I’d like to see it, darlin’.”

      Sammie balked. “My apartment?”

      “That too,but we have that dang pact, remember?”

      How could she forget?

      “I’m talking about the drafts. I’ve got a crew lined up to build the shelves and counter space and whatever else you decide you want. But I’d like to see your ideas first and go over them. Sound fair?”

      Sammie had to get her head in the game. Jackson, obviously, didn’t have a problem being around her, even if he teased her a bit, so she had to stop thinking of him as anything other than her very smart, very business-minded partner. “Yes, that sounds fair. I guess I didn’t think you’d have much time to devote to Boot Barrage.”

      Jackson tipped his hat farther back on his head. “Seeing one of my enterprises get off to a good start is always smart business, Sammie. I invest not only my money, but also my time and ideas. So how about we shoot by your apartment, pick up your drafts and then discuss them over lunch?”

      Lunch? With Jackson? She supposed there was no getting around spending time with him. He was successful and if he could show her how to make a go of her business in Scottsdale, she should be grateful. “Sure.”

      “One more thing,” he said, taking her hand. The connection shot a jolt of heat straight through her system. He tugged her out the back door and into the parking lot. When she stared at him in question, he said with a dimpled smile, “This is for you.”

      “I’ve never driven an SUV before.” With trepidation, Sammie sat behind the wheel of the Lincoln Navigator and coasted along the streets of Scottsdale. The new-car scent from the tan leather upholstery filled her nostrils as the shiny dashboard controls twinkled in the early afternoon sun. Everything surrounding her was rich and luxurious, including the man sitting in the passenger seat beside her.

      “You’re doing fine, Sammie,” Jackson said nonchalantly, looking as if he hadn’t a care in the world. The Navigator was the biggest car she’d ever driven. “You needed something with good storage space in back for boxes and samples. I figured a truck would be pushing it.”

      She gave him a sideways glance. “You figured right. Driving a truck would give me hives.”

      “It’s not as hard as it looks.”

      “No, it’s probably harder.” She concentrated on the road and the newness of the controls. “I bet you’ve been driving your daddy’s pickup truck since you were fifteen.”

      Jackson snickered. “More like thirteen, darlin’. My daddy didn’t have a problem with his kids driving on their own property. He taught us the basics and let us have at it.”

      “It’s a great car, Jackson.” Sammie had to swallow past the lump in her throat. She’d been floored when Jackson told her the car was hers. She was overcome with gratitude but felt a little guilty; she doubted that Jackson was in the habit of giving cars to his business partners. He was doing a favor for Callie and Sammie was reaping the benefits. Sometimes it overwhelmed her, but at the same time, it made her all the more determined to make their business a success. Jackson’s generosity wasn’t something to sneeze it. “Tell me it’s a business expense.”

      “It’s yours. But on paper it’s the Boot Barrage company car.”

      That rationale made her feel a little better. “Okay. I’ll take good care of it.”

      They stopped by her apartment first, Jackson insisting on seeing the place. The set of his jaw and his reassuring look were enough to persuade her it wouldn’t be a problem. It wasn’t as if he was irresistibly drawn to her or anything. They could keep their hands off each other.

      “I like it,” he said, perusing the living space in the apartment. “Even if it’s a snug fit.”

      She glanced at his jeans. They were a snug fit, but the apartment was adequate for her with two bedrooms, a living area and an efficient kitchen’s worth of charm. “It’s more than enough for me.”

      Sammie wouldn’t show him the bedrooms but he took it upon himself to walk down the hallway and poke his head into both rooms anyway. Then, as she stood in the middle of the living room with the draft store plans in hand, he sauntered back over to her. “It has potential.”

      “It’s a mess right now.” Boxes of her clothes cluttered the floor at her feet. Photo frames and a set of dishes were stacked haphazardly on the kitchen counter. “I had a few things shipped from back East, but I’m mostly starting from scratch.”

      “You have a bed.”

      “Necessity of life, isn’t it?”

      “You got that right.” His blue eyes darkened as he looked at her, and Sammie reminded herself that Jackson was a player. Flirting and teasing women were as natural to him as breathing. He wasn’t a jerk about it either. He was a man who genuinely loved being with women. She couldn’t fault him his killer looks and compelling charm.

      Don’t take him seriously, and you’ll do fine, Sammie.

      He bent down to flip open one box lid and raised his brows. “And boots.”

      She’d packed three large boxes of her own boots. “Another necessity of life.”

      He grinned. “Let’s hope the women of Scottsale agree with you.”

      “I’m counting on it.”

      With a hand firmly on her back, Jackson led her toward the door. Before she locked up, Sammie glanced around at the textured walls and high arched doorways that accented the Southwestern flavor of the place and sighed.

      “It’ll feel like home before you know it,” Jackson said, as if reading her mind.

      This adventure was so new to her. She’d packed up her Boston apartment, leaving what was familiar to her completely behind. When she thought of it that way, shivers of apprehension rode up and down her spine. After all, she was an only child who’d lost her father and her business in the blink of an eye.

      Now she fended off a full-fledged panic attack. She didn’t want Jackson to see her moment of weakness. She’d moved three thousand miles away to a city with no coastline. It was a place foreign to her in most respects. But then, she thought about her best friend, Callie, and the rest of the Worths. They were her family now, Jackson included, and that notion made the knots in her stomach loosen. She bucked up her courage, giving herself a mental pep talk. She could do this and she would be successful. She smiled at Jackson as she turned