Out of Uniform Box Set: Books 1-3

by Kennedy, Elle

  “I’ll give her a call,” she said absently, tucking the message into her pocket. She glanced at Chad with a 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 blooms.

  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, in Savannah’s life, cute guys were always in constant supply.

  3

  “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 on the site and he’d given up after scrolling through the first ten pages of profiles.

  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. “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 manwhore. 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. 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 and yanked on 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 out 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, 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 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 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. 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.

  Footsteps sounded from behind a green curtain separating another doorway from the main room. “I’ll be right with you!” a muffled feminine voice chirped.

  “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. “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. Annabelle and Carson Scott’s wife, Holly, had started an event planning business of their own, and the two women had already planned and catered some seriously ritzy parties. Matt had helped out at one of their wedding receptions and was floored by the results.

  The footsteps from the back room grew louder. He 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 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 f
ound 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. 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. 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 fucking ridiculous. Somehow he ended up turning into a blubbering imbecile when Savannah was around. But he’d just been thrown for a total loop.

  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 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. Annabelle had agreed to hire Savannah for an upcoming wedding, and Savannah was determined to impress her. This was a test of sorts, which, if she passed, could lead to a possible stream of income she would 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 by on Wednesday to discuss what she’s looking for,” Annabelle said. “You can come up with some ideas and designs, and we’ll go from there.”

  “Sounds good,” Savannah answered. “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 ass 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 whenever 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 Jake was out of the picture…

  “He’s 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, 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 girl.”

  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 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 walked over to her, a rueful grin on his face. “Annabelle’s not very subtle,” he remarked.

  “Not really.”

  He rested an elbow on the counter, an action that drew her gaze to his impressive biceps. He instantly noticed where her eyes had landed, and his grin widened. “You think I’m hot,” he said, sounding delighted.

  Savannah rolled her eyes. “Sounds like you think you’re hot.”

  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 seem at all boring.

  “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.

  “I’m not looking for a relationship,” she admitted. “And now that I’m doing the flowers for that wedding, I won’t have much time to date anyway.”

  “You can make time for one drink.” His green eyes glittered playfully. “I promise, I’ll make it worth your while.”

  “Do people still use that line?”

  “Yup. So what do you say?”

  Another smile tickled her lips. “I guess I can squeeze in one drink after work.”

  His entire face lit up like a little kid’s on Christmas morning. “What time should I pick you up?”

  * * *

  For the first time in his life, Matt was actually nervous about a date. As he stepped out of the shower, dripping water all over the bathroom mat, he wondered if he should ask Annabelle to come downstairs so he could ask for clothing advice.

  Jeez. What the hell was wrong with him? He could seduce the panties off a nun, for fuck’s sake. Women freaking loved him. If he was the kind of guy who ticked off notches in his belt…well, he’d be on his tenth belt by now.

  But Savannah made him feel like an anxious teenager again. It wasn’t just her looks that captivated him, though her smokin’ body did make his mouth water. She was just so…self-assured. She seemed to know exactly who she was, completely comfortable in her own skin, and her easygoing attitude and sharp wit were a total turn-on. He didn’t usually think beyond the first date, but with Savannah he already wanted more and they hadn’t even gone out yet.

  Which was why he couldn’t have sex with her tonight. As much as he wanted to, as much as his body throbbed at the mere thought of her, he needed to force himself to keep his hands off her this evening. It was messed up, but he feared that if he slept with her so soon, this fascination would disappear, and he wasn’t ready for that to happen yet.

  Another first—he wanted to get to know a woman before he screwed her.

  God help him.

  Deciding to forgo calling Annabelle—he wasn’t in the mood to be ridiculed—he strode into his bedroom and threw open the closet door. As he dressed, he marveled at the silence in the apartment. Ever since Ryan moved upstairs into Annabelle’s place, Matt was living solo. Made it easier to bring chicks back here without worrying about keeping Ryan up, though he didn’t do it often. He didn’t like having women over. They always wanted to stay when he only wanted them to leave.

  Clad in a pair of jeans, a black T-shirt and an open blue button-down, he grabbed his keys from the basket on the hall table and left his second-floor apartment. He took the stairs two at a time, suddenly eager to get going and see Savannah again. The black SUV he’d just signed the lease on had decent speed, so he made it to Savannah’s shop in less than fifteen minutes.

  Shutting off the engine, he took a deep breath and hopped out of the SUV. There
was a separate entrance to Savannah’s upstairs apartment, with a small intercom mounted on the wall. He buzzed. A few seconds later, her chirpy voice said, “Come up.”

  Uh-oh.

  She wanted him to come upstairs?

  That wasn’t part of the plan. He’d hoped to wait down here for her, then drive her to the classy bar he’d researched on the web. He was kinda scared to be alone with her. At least with other people around, he wouldn’t be able to rip her clothes off and devour her body the way he so desperately wanted to.

  Gulping, he opened the door and climbed the narrow staircase up to the second floor. Savannah’s door was painted a bright yellow, and it swung open the moment he reached the landing. She appeared in the doorway, wearing a pair of tight black yoga pants and a loose red T-shirt that didn’t hide the fullness of the breasts beneath it.

  “Hey,” she said with an easy smile. “I figured we’d stay in, if that’s cool with you?”

  Another gulp. Crap. Looked like he needed to conjure up some willpower. Pronto.

  In a strained voice, he said, “Sure.”

  Savannah gestured for him to come inside, and when he stepped into the apartment, he immediately saw her personality splashed all over the place. Mismatched furniture, some modern, some antique, filled the spacious living room. Colorful abstract paintings hung on the walls, with the occasional breathtaking landscape sandwiched between them. A small kitchen was tucked off to one side, and the living area was separated from the sleeping area with a see-through Japanese screen that featured bright pink cherry blossom trees. He caught a glimpse of a large futon with a bright magenta bedspread, but tore his gaze away.

  He couldn’t focus on the bed. Beds meant sex. And he was determined not to sleep with Savannah until he figured out why he liked her so much.