“Why not? Every female in the O’Connor family has a green thumb. It’s in my genes.”
Although she looked dubious, she still pushed back her stool and hopped off. Pleasure jolted through him as he realized she’d accepted the invite. As much as he enjoyed seeing her naked, the thought of having lunch with her—with both of them fully clothed—held a huge amount of appeal.
Again, the reaction troubled him. What the hell was going on? Normally he wholeheartedly agreed with Savannah’s views on relationships—who needed ’em? Yet here he was, nearly coming in his pants because this sassy woman was going to eat lunch with him.
“We need to go somewhere nearby,” Savannah said as she grabbed an oversized green canvas purse and slung it over her shoulder. “I want to come back and finalize the orders for the centerpieces.”
“No problem,” he said easily.
He waited for Savannah to summon Chad from the back and ask him to watch the store, then walked ahead to hold the door open for her, admiring the way her filmy floral-print skirt swirled around her knees as she walked. He’d scouted the area on the way over and noticed a small pizza café with an outdoor patio, which he now suggested. Savannah nodded in agreement, and they made their way down the sidewalk. Ten minutes later, they were seated on the cobblestone patio. After ordering beers and a pizza to share, Savannah pulled her notepad from her purse and said, “Okay, let’s see your flower expertise.”
“Hit me,” he said, leaning back in the wrought-iron chair.
“The bride wants, and I quote, ‘something blue and white and sparkly, but natural looking’.”
Matt burst out laughing, getting a frown from Savannah as a reward.
“Do you see why I’m so frazzled?” she said with a sigh. “I mean, can you get any less articulate than that?”
Sensing her frustration, he went serious and asked, “So what are you thinking?”
Her straight white teeth sank into her bottom lip, an action that sent a rush of heat straight down to his cock. The memory of those teeth nibbling on his own lips was still fresh in his mind. Quickly, he forced the thought aside.
“Blue orchids,” she finally said. “Natural birch branches, crystal bowtie vases, and something white… Calla lilies?”
He shook his head. “No way. Too fancy. Lilies will draw the attention away from the orchids. Go with white hydrangea.”
Surprise filled her eyes. Then she started to laugh. “Jeez, you really do know flowers.”
He smirked. “Told you.”
“That’s a good idea,” she admitted. “I didn’t think of hydrangea.” She paused in thought. “Yeah, it’s really good actually. I’ll get started on that today.”
“See how easy that was?” He flashed a charming grin. “Centerpieces, done. What’s next?”
“Backdrops for the head table. The bride wants blue and white again, feminine and elegant.”
“Easy,” he replied. “Blue and white silk panels with floral accents.”
That got him another laugh. “Will you marry me?”
He knew she meant it as a joke, but something inside him shifted. If any other woman said that to him, joking or otherwise, he’d be running out the door right about now. Marriage was not something you kidded about, not in his life. As much as he loved his family, he couldn’t stand the constant smothering. Not just toward him, but to their partners. His mother and father’s marriage had been so overly loving it made him uncomfortable, and all four of his sisters were happily married, constantly gushing about their husbands. Ever since he was a kid, he’d felt uneasy around the constant shows of affection. Couldn’t really explain it, or put his finger on it, but he’d known even back then that he didn’t want that much love in his life.
Having another person know him inside and out, digging into his psyche, finishing his sentences?
It was too damn intimate, and his intimacy ended with sex.
So why didn’t Savannah’s off-hand remark scare him to death, the way it should?
The waitress arrived with their pizza before he could analyze the strange reaction. He and Savannah quickly dug in, polishing off the entire pie in no time. Afterwards, they both leaned back in their chairs, quietly sipping on their respective beers. He didn’t feel the need to fill the silence, and she didn’t seem to either. It was nice.
When she finally spoke, she caught him off guard. “Why are you single?” she asked curiously.
He shrugged. “Why are you?”
“I asked first.”
Setting down his beer bottle, he clasped his hands together on the table. “Relationships seem like too much trouble,” he admitted.
“How so?”
“I don’t like the idea of sharing my entire being with another person.”
She cast him a mischievous grin. “Commitment-phobic. I get it.”
“And you’re not scared of commitment?” he shot back.
“Nope. It just bores me.” Her gray eyes took on a faraway glint. “You know that feeling you get when you kiss someone, when you sleep with them, for the first time? That…thrill.”