Free All-American Girl by Justine Dell Page B

you can’t give me those, I’m afraid we won’t be working out any more details.”
    “Go to dinner with me.” He stepped toward her.
    Samantha moved back and found herself pinned against the counter. The stench of his chewing tobacco made her want to vomit.
    “I think we could work well together.”
    She put a hand on his chest, trying her best to maintain what little distance remained between them. “No thank you. I’m afraid dating is not high on my list of priorities while I’m in town. I just need the estimates. If you can’t give me those in a professional manner, then you need to leave.”
    His face flashed a hint of confusion, quickly replaced by frustration. “I’m the only one in town who can satisfy your needs, Miss Moore.”
    Her gag reflex twitched as statement brought some disturbing images to mind. “I highly doubt that. There are other carpenters in town. Back off. Now.”
    He leaned closer, and she clenched her hands into fists, perfectly willing to punch him if it came to that.
    “But—” Mr. Newburg voice was cut off as he was jerked back by his collar. Samantha blinked. Lance stood a few feet away, the fat carpenter tight in his grip.
    “Jason.” Lance’s deep voice echoed through the shop.
    It gave Samantha the chills. The good kind.
    “I believe Sam said to back off. You didn’t. I think you owe her an apology.”
    Jason struggled against Lance’s hold but quickly fell still. “I was just asking her out. No harm, no foul.”
    “I beg to differ. She obviously wasn’t interested and you kept pressing. That’s rude.”
    “She would’ve been interested if you hadn’t interrupted.”
    “Are you insane?” Samantha shot out.
    “See?” Lance asked. “You’ve offended her. Apologize.”
    Mr. Newberg rolled his eyes but obeyed. “I’m sorry.”
    Jason stumbled the entire way to the door as Lance shoved him out. “Don’t bother coming back,” Lance said as the door closed quietly behind the man.
    Lance. His name echoed in her head as he turned back in her direction.
    She tried her best for casual, but after one glance at his broad shoulders, tightly encased in a red T-shirt, her mind went to places it shouldn’t go. The way he stared at her made her want to double-check her appearance in a mirror. He tilted his head in a cocky fashion, intently gazing at her. A smile played at the corner of his mouth, and he looked smug, yet concern creased his brow. It was both intimidating and alluring at the same time.
    Why did her legs feel so heavy? She was stuck in place, unable to take a step closer to him, which she suddenly wanted to do. What the hell had gotten into her?
    “Lance,” she said. She forced her right foot to take a step back. Then her left.
    “Sam,” he replied in an all-too-smooth tone. The hairs on the back of her neck instantly stood at attention.
    His boots thudded on the wooden floor as he walked in her direction. Damn him for being in all the right places at the right times. He’d saved her butt twice now—yesterday at the diner and now from a brute of a man who couldn’t take no for an answer. God, would she actually have to thank him twice too? Not on her life.
    “What are you doing here?” she asked as she shuffled papers on the counter, making sure the corners and edges were lined up.
    “Well,” he said lightly, though his expression reflected concern, “it seems I was saving you from a rather uncomfortable situation.”
    His eyes gleamed confidently and made him look both ridiculously handsome and annoying at the same time. She hated the handsome part more; it was harder to ignore.
    “What situation? I had everything under control.”
    “Didn’t look like it to me.”
    “Well, Lance, I don’t care what it looked like to you.” She stopped shuffling the papers and moved away from the counter. She needed to keep her hands busy, her eyes focused on something—anything but Lance. She was irritated he thought she actually needed rescuing. In New