by Elle Kennedy
“I know a great Italian place,” he persisted. “Just me, you, a bottle of wine…”
“Yeah, Italian’s not really my thing,” she said, cutting him off. Then she leaned out of the car and pointed to the sky. “Hey, I think the Bat-signal’s calling you.”
He fell for it. And when he turned back, she had reversed out of her parking space, giving him a sassy wave of the hand before she peeled off.
Savannah Harte was smiling as she drove away from the bank and headed toward Market Street. Despite herself, her body was still reacting from the encounter with Matt. Her heart was doing little flips, and her palms were actually a bit damp. Weird. She flirted with sexy men all the time but something about Matt the Navy SEAL aka Bank Savior had totally and instantly turned her on. Maybe it was the shaved head. Or that unbelievably hard and appealing body. Even his awkward pick-up lines had succeeded in making her all hot.
But as appealing as he was, she hadn’t been about to blow off Jake for a total stranger. She didn’t play by many rules in her life—rules just sucked the fun right out of things—but there was one strict guideline she followed: one man at a time.
She wasn’t the kind of girl who dated a whole bunch of guys at once. That just seemed tacky and insensitive to her. And at the moment, she was seeing Jake, the tall sexy surfer she’d met on the beach last week. Not that she’d be dating him for long. She had no interest in committed relationships. Commitment only led to ruts, and she didn’t want to be falling into any ruts. Like her parents. Jeez, talk about boring. She loved them both to death, but growing up, she’d decided she wanted nothing more than to not follow in their footsteps. Their life was so monotonous it made her want to shake them by the shoulders and say, This? This is what you always wanted from your lives? Sitting on the couch every night taking turns with the remote. Weekly bridge games with their neighbors. The same old Sunday brunch at Applebee’s.
Nope. Definitely not for her. She lived for the thrill of first kisses and whirlwind romances, and once any hint of comfortable domesticity entered the equation, Savannah Harte was outta there. No thank you.
But she did have some code of ethics, and seeing two or more guys at once was where she drew the line.
Too bad, though. That Matt… He really had been cute. And the way he’d taken down those three idiots at the bank—she’d actually felt a streak of arousal watching him do that. Rare these days, finding a man capable of kicking total ass.
“Ah well,” she murmured to herself, steering the car toward the end of the street, where her corner flower shop was located.
She pulled in around back and parked in the miniscule lot, then hopped out of the car, grabbed her purse, and headed into the shop from the rear door. Fortunately, when she walked into the bright, sunny main room, she saw it was void of customers. Savannah’s new assistant, Chad, stood behind the narrow red counter, and his brown eyes filled with relief when he spotted her. He’d only been working with her for a couple of weeks, not long enough to leave him in charge of the store, which got busy this time of year. No comparison to Valentine’s Day or Mother’s Day, of course, but September was also a peak time. For some reason, parents liked to buy their college kids flowers to celebrate the new school year, or the new life journey, as many of her customers liked to harp.
“I’m sorry,” Savannah said as she reached the counter. “I swear I didn’t abandon you. Some people decided to rob the bank while I was there.”
“For serious? Are you okay?”
She appreciated Chad’s concern. She liked the guy, in spite of his tendency to say things like “for serious”. “I’m fine,” she assured him. “Was everything okay while I was gone?”
He pushed his sagging wire-rim glasses up the bridge of his nose. “It was fine. I sold a wreath, and three dozen roses.”
“Any problematic customers?”
“No. They were all pretty nice. Oh, but you did get a phone call.” Chad rummaged in the drawer underneath the counter and removed a pink message slip. He handed it to Savannah. “It was an event planner. She’s planning a wedding and was interested in a quote.”
Savannah glanced down at Chad’s neat block writing. Annabelle Holmes, Prestige Events. She’d never heard of either Holmes or the company name, but Savannah liked the idea of doing flowers for a big event. She’d only recently started handling parties and weddings, and the money they brought in was pretty appealing. She didn’t have another wedding scheduled until the end of the month, so hopefully she could squeeze this event in for some extra cash flow.
“I’ll give her a call,” she said absently, tucking the message into her pocket. She glanced at Chad with a sudden grin. “So, are you ready to learn how to arrange centerpieces?”
Her new assistant brightened. For a twenty-year-old man, he was oddly interested in flowers. Not that she blamed him. Flowers were her livelihood. There was nothing that brightened her day more than a bouquet of pretty, colorful flowers.
Well, that and sex. But she’d have to wait for tonight to experience that particular joy. She had a date with Jake later and was already imagining all the naughty things he would do to her body. For a second, though, the image of Jake’s dark eyes and dimpled cheeks was replaced with the one of Matt’s green eyes and chiseled features, but she quickly banished the thought. Matt had been cute, sure, but it wasn’t like she would ever see the guy again.
In Savannah’s life, cute guys, after all, were always in constant supply.
Chapter Two
“Would you quit sulking?” Annabelle Holmes grumbled as she steered the olive-green Jeep down a street littered with little boutiques and a vast number of coffee shops. “So you got rejected. Big deal. Actually, it’s about time. I feel comforted knowing that even sluts like you strike out every now and then.”
Matt just glared at her. Normally he enjoyed Annabelle’s endless sarcasm, but he wasn’t in the mood for it today. It had been almost two weeks since the encounter with Savannah at the bank, and he still couldn’t fight his disappointment that she’d turned him down. He’d even gone so far as to try and track her down, but all he had to go on was her name. He’d typed Savannah into Google, hoping maybe he’d get lucky, but he got over six million results. He’d tried Facebook too, but there was a ridiculous amount of Savannahs registered on the site, and he’d given up after scrolling through the first ten pages of photos.
So yeah, Annabelle was right. He did have to quit sulking. Obviously he was never going to see Savannah again. He knew that. But Annabelle didn’t have to gloat about it.
“You’re being very insensitive about this whole thing,” he grumbled back, then lifted the straw of his McDonald’s cup to his mouth and sucked the last drops of Dr. Pepper from it. Setting the empty cup in the holder between their arms, he added, “And I’m not a slut.”
Annabelle hooted, her big brown eyes lighting up in delight. “Yeah freaking right. You are so a slut. You had sex with me less than an hour after we’d met.”
“You wrote up a sex list,” he shot back. “So who’s the slut, hmmm?”
“I was exploring my sexuality,” she said in her defense. “You, on the other hand, finished exploring years ago. Now you’re just a man-whore. Wait, I think this is it.” She squinted. “Yeah, it’s here.”
A two-story corner shop came into view. Hanging on the storefront was a big purple sign that read Harte to Harte Flowers. He rolled his eyes. How cute.
“Besides,” Annabelle said as she executed an unbelievably impressive parallel parking job across the street from the shop, “you don’t know, maybe you’ll run into her again. If you’re meant to, you will. Fate makes things happen.”
“I don’t believe in fate.”
“You should.” She grinned. “I mean, look at me and Ryan. He slid into my bed in the middle of the night thinking I was someone else, and now we’re in love. Fate.”
“Luck,” he corrected.
“Stop being such a Negative Nancy.” She killed the engine a
nd yanked up the parking brake. “All you have to do is snap your fingers and you can get laid. Why don’t you call up your new BFF Aidan and set up a pub crawl or something, you know, have a three-way or fourgy or whatever it is you guys do.”
“He’s not my BFF,” Matt grumbled. “We just hang out sometimes.”
Because all my friends are in love, he wanted to add, but didn’t because he knew Annabelle would just accuse him of being jealous. He wasn’t, though. He was happy for his friends, he truly was, but their no-longer-single status made it hard for Matt to find a wingman for a night on the town. A few months ago he’d gone for beers with Aidan Rhodes, who worked in Naval Intelligence out on the base, and the two men had instantly hit it off. Aidan was a couple of years younger, and like Matt, was always up for a good time.
And though he wasn’t going to admit it to Annabelle, he and Aidan did have a threesome last month, with a hot redhead visiting from Kansas.
“I don’t want a fourgy,” he added with a frown. “I want some good, old-fashioned one-on-one with the hot blonde I met. Is that too much to ask for?”
“Stop whining. It’s unattractive.”
“That’s not what you said the night I rocked your world.”
Annabelle didn’t even have the decency to blush. Instead, she just laughed again. “You rocked my body. There’s a difference.”
Was there? He always felt oddly uncomfortable when Annabelle, or any of his friends, for that matter, tried to explain what love felt like. Sure, he loved people—his mom, Nana O’Connor, his four older sisters. But love love? He had no clue how that felt. If he weren’t constantly surrounded by happy couples, he wouldn’t even believe it existed.
He and Annabelle got out of the car and headed for the door of the flower shop. He walked ahead, opening the door for his friend’s girlfriend like the southern gentleman he was. A bell chimed as they entered the store, and almost immediately, the heady and powerful scent of flowers filled his nostrils. He breathed it in, reminded of the yard in his mom’s Nashville house. The O’Connor women loved to garden.
His gaze took in the elaborate arrangements and baskets of fresh-smelling flowers practically overflowing the shop’s small space.
“So pretty,” Annabelle murmured as she admired a vase containing bright yellow tulips intermingled with curly white willow and white shasta daisies. That he knew the kind of daisies they were boggled the mind. Apparently he’d picked up some gardening knowledge over the years without knowing it.
The sound of footsteps came from behind a green curtain separating another doorway from the main room. “I’ll be right with you!” a muffled feminine voice chirped from back there.
“I like this place,” Annabelle whispered to him. “It’s the perfect combination of charm and elegance. Think Holly will like it?”
“How the hell would I know?” he mumbled back. “This is why you should have brought Holly and not me.”
“Holly was busy. And you’re my friend. Friends do this kind of stuff for each other.”
He pretended to brood, but he wasn’t annoyed that Annabelle had dragged him along on her errands. He liked spending time with her, and he was actually proud of her for what she was trying to accomplish. She’d left behind a successful job at one of the top event planning firms in San Francisco just so she could be with Ryan, and Matt fully supported this new venture. Together with Carson Scott’s wife, Holly, Annabelle had started an event planning business of their own, and the two women had already planned and catered some seriously ritzy parties. Matt helped out at one of their wedding receptions, and had been floored by the results.
The footsteps from the back room grew louder. Matt swung his head toward the curtain in time to see a very familiar face.
Recognition dawned in her gray eyes at the same moment.
“Seriously?” Savannah said with a sigh.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he blurted out, “but I’m not stalking you.”
“Uh, I wasn’t thinking that. But now I am.”
A flush crept into his cheeks. His peripheral vision caught Annabelle giving him a perplexed look. Well, no kidding. He was usually way smoother than this, but yet again, Savannah brought out his inner stammer.
An awkward silence descended, which Savannah ended with an impatient frown. “Usually when someone comes into a store, they have some sort of purpose. To buy something, to ask about an item… In this case, it would be flowers.” She gestured to a vase on the counter. “Are you here to buy flowers?”
Matt was suddenly tongue-tied. Fortunately, Annabelle took pity on him and flashed Savannah a big smile. “I’m Annabelle Holmes, from Prestige Events. We spoke on the phone this morning?”
Savannah’s face relaxed. “Oh. Right.” She stuck out her hand, which Annabelle shook firmly. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Matt finally found his voice, feeling the weird urge to clarify why he was there. “I don’t work for Annabelle.”
Both women shot him a strange glance.
“And we’re not dating either,” he found himself adding. “I’m here as a friend. We’re friends. Me and Annabelle… We’re…”
“Friends,” Savannah finished. She furrowed her brows. “Uh, yeah, so should we talk about what Harte to Harte flowers can do for you?”
The question was directed at Annabelle, who was now staring at Matt as if he’d grown a bushy mustache. “Matt, why don’t you…browse or something?”
In other words, go away. As much as he didn’t like being banished, he desperately needed to regroup here. Drifting over to a display case filled with intricate wreaths, he took a calming breath and tried not to kick himself in the shin. Okay, this was getting ridiculous. Somehow he ended up turning into a blubbering imbecile when Savannah was around. But he was just so surprised to see her here.
Annabelle’s comment about fate blazed through his mind. Was she right? Had fate actually placed Savannah in his path again? And if so, how could he make sure she didn’t go sprinting in the other direction? As far as first impressions went, he’d blown it. His second impression wasn’t much better, either. What he needed to do now was channel his innate hotness, will up some confidence, which he usually possessed in spades, and get Savannah to agree to go out with him.
After he convinced her he wasn’t a total loser.
Savannah shook hands with Annabelle Holmes again, pleased with the agreement they’d reached. Apparently Annabelle and her partner were in search of a florist they could use on a regular basis, and Annabelle had agreed to hire Savannah for an upcoming wedding. Savannah was determined to impress Annabelle. This was a test of sorts, which, if she passed, would lead to a possible stream of income she could totally benefit from. She’d been thinking about opening a second location for almost a year now, and working with an up-and-coming event company would be good for business.
“So the bride and I will come over on Wednesday to discuss what she’s looking for,” Annabelle finished. “You can come up with some ideas and designs, and we’ll go from there.”
“Sounds good,” Savannah said. “Thanks for thinking of my shop.”
Annabelle smiled. “I had a good feeling about it when I browsed your website. I really think—”
A loud clatter interrupted her sentence. Savannah turned to see Matt bending down to retrieve an empty plastic bucket he’d knocked off a stool near the rose display. The sight of his taut behind sent a rush of warmth to her body. Lord, the man filled out a pair of jeans really, really nicely. She’d been trying to ignore him during the entire discussion with Annabelle, but her gaze had floated in his direction every few moments, admiring the view.
He was just as sexy as she remembered. And still equally adorable.
She got the feeling he was usually pretty smooth when it came to chatting up girls, yet he blushed and stammered when she was around. Kind of a turn-on, watching this big, gorgeous man get all tongue-tied around her. Definitely a nice ego boost.
And now that Jak
e was out of the picture…
“He’s really not usually so pathetic,” Annabelle said in a low voice, snapping Savannah from her thoughts.
She glanced at Matt again, who now stood near the door with his arms crossed across his muscular chest, as if he was afraid to touch anything else.
“I think you make him nervous.” Annabelle’s laugh held a note of admiration. “To be honest, I’ve never seen him all blushy and weird around a woman.”
Savannah shrugged. “I tend to have that effect on men,” she joked.
That got her another laugh. “Well, put him out of his misery, will you?” Before Savannah could object, Annabelle called Matt over. “Savannah wants to talk to you, stud. I’ll wait in the car.”
Just like that, Annabelle’s curvy body hurried off, her brown hair bouncing over her shoulders as she left the store. The bell over the door chimed, then tinned away into silence.
Matt slowly walked over to her, a rueful grin on his face. “Annabelle’s not very subtle,” he remarked.
“Not really.”
He rested an elbow on her counter, an action that drew her gaze to the impressive bicep of his forearm. He instantly noticed where her eyes had landed, and his grin widened. “You think I’m attractive,” he said, sounding delighted.
Savannah rolled her eyes. “Sounds like you think you’re attractive.”
A pained look flitted across his face. “Show some mercy already. For some reason I act like a total moron when I’m around you. The least you can do is admit this attraction isn’t one-sided.”
A smile lifted the corner of her mouth. He had a point. Maybe he did deserve some leniency. Besides, she really had no reason not to see him again, now that she’d ended things with Jake. Alas, her sexy surfer ended up being kind of boring and a bit of a jerk.
Matt, however, didn’t look boring at all.
“Fine,” she said. “I find you attractive.”
“Thank Jesus. Now will you agree to go out with me or what?”
The words were gruff, completely unpolished, but he seemed pleased with himself that he’d finally said something right.