The Heat is On (11 page)

“He’s okay, though, right?”

She sighed. “He’s fine.”

Shoving his aviator sunglasses onto his nose, he focused on driving to Shelby’s bakery. The shower had helped clear his head, and the two beers’ worth of alcohol he’d consumed this morning were starting to leave his bloodstream. He felt alert now. And pissed off.

Yup, stil pissed off at Savannah for being so damn stubborn and so damn scared.

But what could he do about it? No way was he going to beg. He was way too proud for that. Besides, what would it achieve? Savannah wanted to live in her heartache-free world of first kisses and whirlwind thril s, and who was he to force her into a relationship?

Best thing to do was move on.

Put her out of his mind, find a new, cute female to strike up a thing with and proceed to fuck the love he stil felt for Savannah right out of his body.

Savannah examined her reflection in the mirror, wondering if the low-cut violet dress she’d chosen was too sexy for a first date. The silky material fel down to her knees, so it wasn’t too indecent, but her breasts practical y poured out of the bodice. After a second, she shrugged and moved away from the mirror. Whatever. You could never go wrong with sexy.

Her arms ached in protest as she lifted them up to adjust the artful y messy twist of her hair. She was stil sore from yesterday. She’d gotten up at six in the morning and spent seven hours getting the flowers ready for the wedding. She’d driven around town like a maniac, first to the Rose Room, the banquet hal where Jeannine and her husband-to-be Henry were holding their wedding reception. Along with bringing Chad, Savannah had hired a few temporary workers to help her set up al the tables, chairs and wal panels. She’d left half of the workers to finish up, then went with Chad and a couple of others to St.

Augustine’s Chapel to get the aisle and altar ready for the actual ceremony. She’d left Chad in charge, headed back to the banquet hal , then back to the chapel, back to the hal , and so on, until she found herself ready to col apse by the time noon rol ed around.

During one of her trips to the Rose Room, she’d had a moment to chat with Annabel e and her business partner, Hol y, who mentioned Matt had just left. Apparently he’d given them a ride and stayed to help unload supplies. Savannah had just missed him, and she hadn’t been sure whether she was happy or sad about that.

His parting words had been buzzing through her head like angry wasps for three days now.

Hope you had fun.

He hadn’t sounded cruel when he said them. Just sad and resigned. She almost wished he’d been cruel. At least then she could feel better about the way things ended. If she hated him, then she wouldn’t have to miss him.

Unfortunately, she didn’t hate him.

And she total y missed him.

Good thing she had a solution for that.

The wedding had gone off without a hitch, the flowers were a success, and Prestige Events wanted to work with her again. To celebrate, Savannah was going on a date with Tony, the tal , dark-haired hottie who’d waltzed into her shop yesterday evening to buy flowers for his newly engaged cousin. The two of them had flirted for several minutes, until he final y gave her a sexy smile and asked if she wanted to have dinner with him the fol owing evening. She’d said yes immediately.

Tony was just the kind of guy she liked spending time with. Gorgeous, easygoing, and not looking for a relationship. He’d told her he worked long hours at the law firm at which he was a junior partner, and didn’t have time for anything serious.

Exactly the way she liked it.

A flicker of guilt went through her as she left the apartment. She felt kind of sleazy, going out with someone else when the dust of her time with Matt had barely even settled. But so what. Tony would be a nice distraction. A way to put Matt out of her mind for good.

Downstairs, she stepped onto the sidewalk in front of her shop and found a sleek black BMW waiting at the curb. The passenger window rol ed down and Tony’s cute grin greeted her. “Hop in.” Despite herself, she was a tad irked that he hadn’t gotten out to open her door for her. Matt always did, even if they were just going for a quick cup of coffee.

His southern gentleman manners, as he always said.

Don’t think about Matt
, a sharp voice ordered.

She decided to heed the voice’s advice. She was going out with Tony. Tony, not Matt. So there was no reason to think about anyone other than Matt—shit, Tony, anyone other than
Tony
.

“Hey,” she said as she got into the car.

Tony’s dark eyes studied her appreciatively. “You look amazing.”

“Thanks.”

He moved the gearshift and added, “I made reservations at the Italian place around the corner. Is that cool with you?”

“It’s great.”

They didn’t say much more as he drove to the restaurant. Savannah normal y excel ed at first date chitchat. She had no problems asking questions or dropping a few flirtatious remarks, maybe even innocently brushing a guy’s arm to make that first contact.

But she didn’t do any of that tonight, and when they were final y seated at a secluded corner table with a red and white checkered tablecloth, she almost felt nervous.

“So,” Tony said, reaching for the menu, “how do you like being a florist?”

She fumbled for her own menu. “It’s great.”

“Cool. Did you always want to work with flowers?”

“Uh-huh. Flowers are…wel , they’re great.” She tried not to cringe. She’d uttered the word

“great” like fifty times already and they were ten minutes into the damn date. Drawing in a breath, she pretended to study the menu, al the while gathering up confidence. Enough was enough. She was acting like a total loser here. She was in her element, for Pete’s sake. These first encounters, the exciting, flirty moments leading up to fun between the sheets—she lived off them, damn it.

Savannah picked up the water glass on the table and took a long swal ow. “What about you?” she asked smoothly. “Have you always wanted to be a lawyer?”

With an enthusiastic nod, Tony began explaining how law was his biggest passion, only to be interrupted by the arrival of their waiter, a twenty-something-year-old guy with spiky brown hair and hazel eyes.

“Are you ready to order?” he inquired.

Savannah noticed the waiter had glued his gaze to her cleavage. She suddenly wished she’d brought a cardigan or something. The way this kid checked her out was almost criminal.

“No, we need a few more minutes,” Tony said.

The waiter turned to Savannah, but his eyes never reached her face. He just kept ogling her tits like a horny teenager. “Something to drink then?”

“A few more minutes,” she echoed.

With one last lingering look, the waiter walked off, while Savannah rol ed her eyes and said, “I hope he doesn’t roofie my drink. I’m not in the mood to be sexual y assaulted tonight.”

Tony gave her a blank look. “What? Why would he put drugs in your drink?”

She grew flustered. “He wouldn’t. He was just looking at my…I was making a…whatever.” Her date was looking at her in such confusion she almost laughed out loud. But then Tony’s face brightened and he continued his recitation of al the reasons he’d chosen to become a lawyer.

Savannah tuned him out, stil thinking about how he’d completely missed the sarcasm in her tone. Matt would have appreciated the sardonic remark. Like the day they’d been lying side by side on the bank floor, when he’d laughed at her whispered barbs. They’d joked back and forth that day as if they’d done it for years. She stil couldn’t believe he liked—and got—

her sense of humor.

Her mind drifted, the memory of his childhood anecdotes coming to the surface. She’d loved hearing those stories, mostly because it had been fun picturing big, tough Matt O’Connor as a little kid fussed over by al the females in his family. She liked hearing his voice too. Deep and gruff, and so deliciously husky when he was turned on.

She smothered a groan. Why couldn’t she stop thinking about him already? They’d had a few fun weeks together, and she’d gotten out just in time.

He’d told her he was fal ing in love with her! How could she stick around after that and risk another painful breakup? She’d been through too many of those. Like when Kevin dumped her after she burned yet another dinner. He’d gone on and on about how much he valued marriage and how he didn’t think she would make a good wife. Asshole. The words had stung back then, but eventual y she’d accepted the truth to them. Men didn’t want to settle down with someone like her. She was too forward when it came to sex, too sarcastic, and not at al domestic, unless you counted her affinity for flowers.

Matt might be a bit of a commitment-phobe too, but she suspected he secretly did want the kind of loving relationship his sisters had. He would want a wife someday, and like an asshole once told her, she wasn’t wife material.

Or maybe it would have ended the way things did with Greg, her last serious boyfriend. The routine they’d fal en into had been so boring she’d wanted to tear her own hair out. So she’d broken up with Greg, hurting him deeply in the process. She didn’t want to hurt Matt, which would no doubt happen if the chemistry between them decided to fizzle out.

The sharp clearing of a male throat jerked her from her thoughts. She blinked, finding Tony watching her in concern. “Huh?” she said.

“I asked if you were ready to order. You’ve been staring at the menu for five minutes. And you ignored me the four times I asked you what you wanted.” Five minutes? She’d spaced out for that long? And she hadn’t even noticed him talking to her. What was the matter with her?

A startling thought sliced into her consciousness.

She wasn’t having a good time.

Here she was, on a first date with a seriously cute guy who she’d normal y be incredibly attracted to, but the thril wasn’t there.

She didn’t want to feel Tony’s lips on hers for the first time. Didn’t want to undress him and find out what lay beneath his black trousers and navy-blue suit jacket.

She felt zero enthusiasm about starting a casual fling with this man.

Because she stil wanted Matt O’Connor.

Because she’d
fallen
for Matt O’Connor.

Swal owing hard, she met her date’s now-annoyed eyes and said, “How about we cal it a night?”

“God, your chest is rock-hard,” the little brunette in Matt’s arms purred, tightening her arms around his neck. “No wonder you’re so good at this game.” Matt decided not to point out that hard chests had nothing to do with a game of pool. Precision, maybe.

A steady grip. But not a damned chest.

Smothering a weary sigh, he slowly ducked out of the woman’s embrace and reached for the cue he’d rested against the side of the table. “Let’s finish the game.”

Her brown eyes flickered with irritation as he moved to the other side of the pool table and pretended to study the placement of the bal s. Fuck, why had he bothered coming here tonight? The Sand Bar was always the place to go when you wanted to find a warm, wil ing body to spend the night with, but for some reason, the mob of bodies and the scent of sweat and perfume made him nauseous. And the loud reggae music blasting from the speakers was giving him a headache.

He shouldn’t have come here. The idea of sex with a total stranger held absolutely no appeal for him right now.

“Actual y,” he said, setting down the pool cue again,

“I think I’m going to head out. I feel like I’m coming down with something.”

The brunette whose name he hadn’t even asked for gazed at him in disappointment. Then, without another word, she sauntered off, her firm ass swaying at each step she took. Not even the sight of a nice ass could lift his spirits.

Final y releasing that sigh lodged in his chest, he maneuvered through the crowd of people. Two blondes with heavy makeup shot him come-hither smiles but he ignored them, intent on getting the hel out of there. He also ignored a throaty “What’s the hurry, stud?” and a teasing “Hey, baby” from two other females.

When he stepped into the balmy night air, relief swam through him. Fuck. It was like a feeding frenzy in there. Hungry female piranhas after his body.

Usual y his ego would inflate from al the attention, but right now, he just felt sleazy that he used to spend so much time in a place like that.

“Hey.”

At the sound of yet another female voice, he clenched his fists, ready to shoot the chick down—

and probably not in a gentle way.

And then he turned around and the irritated words of rejection got stuck in his throat. Savannah was standing by the entrance of the bar. His eyes ate her up, taking in the little violet dress and silver open-toed sandals she wore. Her hair was tied up in a complicated-looking twist and subtle makeup emphasized her beautiful features.

He cleared his throat, searching for his voice.

“What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you,” she said simply.

There was about ten feet separating them, but Matt didn’t make a move to bridge the distance. Wariness circled him like an uneasy scavenger examining a carcass. What was she doing here? After the way they’d left things, he hadn’t thought he’d ever see her again.

Savannah took a step toward him, then stopped awkwardly. “I went by your apartment building but you weren’t there. Annabel e was on the balcony and told me you came here, so…” Her voice trailed off.