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and pleading with her eyes.
    “Aren’t you worried about my special cream, getting all in the fibers?”
    He shot a cocky grin at her. She refused to allow him to embarrass her, which was no doubt his intention. Instead she allowed her eyes to roam over him, from the top of his head straight down to his toes and back up again. “Nope. Not really.”
    He frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    “It means either you take me to Walmart or I raid your closet.” She couldn’t believe she was begging to buy Walmart clothing. Funny how life can change in the matter of twenty-four hours, she mused.
    “Fine.”
    She breathed a loud sigh of relief. At least something was going her way.
     
    ~*~*~*~*~
     
    “You know, you’re buying clothes to live on a farm. Is it really necessary to spend,” he glanced down at his watch, “over an hour flipping through racks?”
    Samantha looked up from the rack of jeans she was flipping through, planted a hand on her hip and rolled her eyes at him. “Look, I’m doing my best to work with what’s here.” She grabbed a random pair of jeans and button-down blouse from the rack and held it up to herself. “This isn’t my style. And this is just a small Walmart, not even a big one.”
    “It is now.”
    “I’m not going to look good.” She looked down at the outfit in her hands.
    “And who exactly are you planning on looking good for?”
    She supposed that was a reasonable question. Who indeed? Taking her eyes off of the outfit, she met his gaze. Certainly not for Connor, right? He was sexy, in a rugged sort of way and had a certain amount of charm, she’d give him that. An arrogant asshole, yes, but maybe it was only a matter of getting to know him? She huffed at herself. As if.
    “No one, but just because you don’t have anyone to look good for doesn’t give a person the excuse to not look good for themselves.”
    He motioned to her shoes and then to her handbag. “Your beauty doesn’t come from thousand-dollar shoes, or Gucci handbags.”
    “Beauty is only skin deep,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes.
    “No. You’ve got the gift of being naturally beautiful. You don’t need expensive clothing to compete with what you’ve been blessed with already. It’s like trying to trick out a Lamborghini. Anything added only makes it look like you’re trying too hard and cheapens the beauty that’s already there.”
    Samantha wasn’t sure what to say to that. She certainly didn’t expect a compliment from the man who’d been calling her Princess with condescension in his tone for hours.
    “So how about you just grab some of these t-shirts and tank tops, and some of these Levis and let’s go have some supper before heading back.” She watched in amusement as he randomly selected from a pile of graphic t-shirts, featuring characters such as Batman, Pokemon and others.
    “Graphic tees, seriously?”
    “Seriously,” he confirmed, tossing them into the cart along with several pairs of jeans. “Follow me.”
    She followed him through the store and into the shoe section.
    “What size?” he asked, his hand hovering between sizes seven and eight, of pairs of blue canvas sneakers.
    “Eight.” She wasn’t even going to bother arguing; there was no point.
    He grabbed a pair of sneakers and then ugly yellow work boots. She followed him around the store for another half hour before they made their way to the checkout. She began unloading the cart while Connor walked over to the cashier.
    “Hey, Connor.” Samantha’s ears perked up at the tone in the cashier’s voice. It was a flirty “I wanna fuck you” tone. She didn’t like it.
    Lifting her gaze, she continued to unload the cart as she watched the woman behind the counter. The girl was pretty, short, with a blonde pixie-style hairdo. And she had a wide smile on her lips, her blue eyes gleaming with excitement at seeing Connor standing before her.
    “Gina, how’ve you been?”
    Samantha’s eyes focused on Connor.