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that sent a rush of heat straight down to his cock. The memory of those teeth nibbling on his own lips was stil fresh in his mind. Quickly, he forced the thought aside.
    “Blue orchids,” she final y said. “Natural birch branches, crystal bowtie vases, and something white… Cal a lilies?”
    He shook his head. “No way. Too fancy. Lilies wil draw the attention away from the orchids. Go with white hydrangea.”
    Surprise fil ed her eyes. Then she started to laugh.
    “Jeez, you real y 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 real y good actual y. I’l 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. “Wil 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 al 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 real y 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 fil the silence, and she didn’t seem to either. It was nice.
    When she final y 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 .”
    “Yeah…”
    “I think I’m addicted to it,” she confessed. “I’m addicted to firsts.”
    “Seconds can be just a good,” he pointed out.
    “Sure, but eventual y the thril goes away. So that’s when I go away.”
    Matt opened his mouth to ask her if that’s what would happen with them—would she simply go away?
    But before he could speak, a male voice interrupted their discussion.
    “Savannah?”
    A thirty-something guy with messy blond hair had stopped by the railing separating the patio from the sidewalk. He wore a pair of long orange shorts and a white muscle shirt, and he was staring at Savannah as if she were his long-lost love.
    “Hank,” she said in surprise. “It’s good to see you again.”
    At her casual, impersonal words, Hank’s entire face fel . “Where’ve you been?” he asked, a plaintive note entering his voice. “I haven’t seen you in months.”