The Soldier's Sweetheart by Deb Kastner Page A

grandfather, had struggled their whole lives for their family and the small-town community, working day in and day out to build Sam’s Grocery into something stable and profitable. Only recently had they been able to pursue something different, to follow their own dreams and build their cozy little bed-and-breakfast.
    There was no way Samantha was going to let Stay-n-Shop—or anyone else, for that matter—ruin that for them.
    She didn’t need Will Davenport’s help. She didn’t need anybody’s help.
    “Samantha?” Will said quietly behind her. He was close enough for her to feel the warmth of his breath on her neck. The man was seriously invading her personal space. She stiffened.
    “What part of butt out do you not understand?” The guy had played all strong and silent, and he was good at that game. But now he was all up in her business? Why wouldn’t he leave well enough alone?
    “Look,” he insisted, grasping her shoulders and turning her around to face him. “I know you’re scared. And I’ll back off if that’s what you really want. But I can help you. I know I can.”
    “How?” she demanded. “How are you going to help me, huh? Do you have a law degree? Are you going to take on the corporate bigwigs? Rip up their letters? Fight them off with a stick?”
    She knew she was being unreasonable, but so was he. Like he could just step in and make everything right. Sir Galahad riding in on his white horse with his lance and his sword, ready for battle, determined to save the day.
    Wasn’t going to happen.
    “You can’t solve my problems for me.”
    “You’re right,” he amended. He slid his palm from her shoulder to her elbow. “I can’t solve your problem for you. But I can support you, and be there if you need me.”
    “What?” His statement caught her off guard—almost as much as her reaction to his touch. He’d barely traced a path down her arm, yet his fingers were warm. Reassuring and oh so real.
    She was the first to admit that Will was an attractive man, but her reaction to the mere brush of his hand on her skin stunned her. She’d never felt this way in her life.
    She needed to get out more.
    “I’m your associate,” Will continued.
    Precisely. Reason number one thousand, four hundred and ninety-nine why I shouldn’t be noticing the minty smell of his mouthwash and the well-toned muscles threading down his arms.
    And most especially because, in essence, at least, they were arguing. She wasn’t supposed to be noticing him at all.
    It must be the anxiety she was experiencing, which she’d clearly misinterpreted as something entirely different.
    That’s what it was. She wasn’t thinking straight.
    “I hope you’ll also consider me your friend.” One side of his lip crooked up in a half smile. “I’ll help you figure out what to do about this threat—if you’ll let me.”
    “Thank you, but I don’t need your assistance. I’m fine on my own.”
    “Are you?”
    The sharp, confrontational tone in his voice made her bristle. Guess they really were quarrelling.
    “Absolutely,” she snapped. “And what makes you so certain I haven’t already solved this?” The challenge in her voice was unmistakable.
    “You don’t sound too sure of yourself.”
    So much for unmistakable. Was her insecurity that obvious? She straightened her shoulders, determined to ride out this conversation on her terms.
    “I know what you’re going through,” he continued, removing his hands from her elbows and jamming them into the front pockets of his blue jeans. His gaze altered, taking on a distant quality. She hadn’t wanted him to touch her in the first place, but the sudden absence of his touch was as disquieting as the distant quality of his gaze.
    “How could you know that?”
    “Because I’ve been there.” He took a deep breath through his nose and released it through his mouth. “I know what it’s like to be overwhelmed by circumstances in your life. I’ve always been