He intended to do it justice.
And when the job was done he’d head back to Boston, where he belonged.
He heard a knock on the front door, dissipating the cloud of memories.
Figuring it was the general contractor he’d hired—or maybe his brothers, who were also supposed to meet him there today—he went to the door and pulled it open.
It wasn’t the contractor or his brothers. It was Samantha Reasor, the owner of the flower shop around the corner. Sam was the one who’d pushed hard for them to take on this project. Or rather, for him to take it on. She was as passionate about the mercantile as anyone in Hope.
Today she wore dark skinny jeans that showcased her slender frame. Her blond hair was pulled high on top of her head, and she had on a short-sleeved polo shirt that bore the name Reasor’s Flower Shop. And she had the prettiest damn smile he’d ever seen, with full lips painted a kissable shade of pink.
Not that he was thinking about kissing her or anything. He was back in Hope to work.
“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. 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 snipping and 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. He only knew 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 tear down and build up, so you have all the ideas, right?” 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.”
“Some other time, then.”
Her eyes lit up. “Oh, I know. 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 reacquainting 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? 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 of the mercantile 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 in any woman. He was in town to refurbish the mercantile, and nothing more.
But, whatever. He liked spaghetti. So he’d see Sam, she’d see the blueprints, and that would be it.
*
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.