"Do you want ribbed, Rough Rider, French Tickler, ultra sensitive, form fitting, extra large, extra strength, glow in the dark--my personal favorite--or flavored?" The kid didn't bat an eye as he rattled off the extensive list of selections like a bored waitress delivering the daily specials.

"Flavored?" Had she really asked out loud?

"We've got banana, chocolate, cinnamon, passion fruit, watermelon, strawberry, piña colada, and tutti frutti."

Heat spread from her face down to her toes.

Please throw some in a bag so I can get out of here.

"I find the easiest way to choose is to consult your partner. Maybe he has a preference." The deep, sensual voice from behind her sent a ripple of lust through her body.

Great. Now other people knew what she was buying. No way was she turning around.

"I'm decorating a honeymoon getaway car ... for a wedding I'm in tonight." She explained to the boy behind the counter and to Mr. Sexy Voice.

The teenager rolled his eyes, tossed half a dozen random boxes in a bag and handed them to Jillian. She threw down four twenties--didn't bother to wait for the change-then fled the store with her gaze on the floor.

If she had been buying anything other than sexual accessories that voice would have been worth investigating, but how could she after that purchase?

What if she liked him and they started dating? What if they got married and she had to tell their grandkids she'd met grandpa while buying condoms? That had Jerry Springer written all over it.

Time to get serious. She still had so much left to do before the wedding. Not only did she need to fill floral orders that had been placed for other customers, she hadn't even started on Erin's bridal bouquet.

A quick coffee and then it was back to work. God bless caffeine.

Candace's Coffee Shop was beside her floral store in the mall. So if she were quick, she'd hardly miss the wasted minutes.

"Can I get a double espresso, please?" Jillian slid her credit card across the counter.

"Sorry, new policy, we don't take plastic anymore!" An overly-energetic girl with a teacup shirt informed.

Just my luck. Jillian never carried cash and only had it for the condoms because another bridesmaid had given it to her. It wasn't that she didn't want to carry cash, she just didn't have any. After paying the bills at the shop, she was tapped out.

Dropping her purse on the counter, she dug deep into the bottom.

"I know I have some change down here ... somewhere." She shook her purse.

She extracted her hand and opened her fist. A broken lipstick tube--minus its lid--a piece of gum with half a wrapper, a pen, receipt from the grocery store, and three long strands of nutmeg hair.

"May I?" a sexy, strangely familiar voice asked.

"Yes, by all means go ahead of me." She dropped a quarter onto the burnished-black countertop.

"No, may I buy your coffee for you?" The husky voice sent the downy hairs on the back of her neck standing on end.Jillian squeezed her eyes closed in embarrassment. It was the same sexy voice from the novelty shop.

This time maybe she should at least peek. She slowly turned and came face to face with mystery man.

What a total hunk. For a moment, she forgot how to speak. "Thanks, I ... can't seem to find my money."

The man was a twenty on a scale of one to ten.

He had crystal-clear, cornflower blue eyes that could make a girl forget all about getting back to work. His black hair curled around a well-worn Yankees hat, giving him a boyish charm. His pearly whites were flanked by two impressive dimples that were so big she could get lost in them and he was nice and tall, too.

She swiped her fingers across her lips to make sure she wasn't drooling.

If she wasn't in such a rush--and had an out of body experience--she might be tempted to run her nose, followed quickly by her tongue, along the nape of his neck.

"I'll have what she's having." He tossed a fifty on the counter.

After the coffees were poured, Mr. Sexy scooped them from the counter. "Want to find a table?"

Yes, she wanted to find a table. No, make that a bed! But she had flowers to arrange.

Running her flower shop consumed her boring life.

"Your change." Teacup girl waved a blur of green in the air.

"Keep it."

That voice left Jillian's mouth dry and sent tingles and heat to remote areas of her body she'd forgotten existed.

Would it be so wrong if Erin didn't have a bridal bouquet? Simplicity was in, right? "I could spare a few minutes."

A grin lit his face. And she decided right then she'd follow him just about anywhere.

He led her to a tiny wrought iron table tucked in the corner of the store, surrounded by canisters of highly aromatic coffees.

The pungent smell of the store usually filled her mind with visions of far away lands and exotic vacations. Today, her fantasies fixed on a faded pair of jeans, accentuating a squeezable rear end.

He held back a chair for her.

Her last boyfriend, Kent, had never held back a chair or opened a door. Which meant the stranger was also a gentleman.

Okay, so this was all a dream. Hit snooze, roll over, and enjoy ten minutes more of glorious sleep.

In unison, they set their white packages under the table.

"Needing a caffeine kick?" He passed her a cup."Yes ... I-I'm planning on a very late night."

"A late night sounds interesting."

Someone turn on the air-conditioning. It just got Sahara Desert HOT in here. "I'm in a wedding, and I'm sure it will be the wee hours of the morning before I get home."

He took a sip. "Is this your wedding?"

"Oh. Good God, no!" Smooth. Now he thinks you hate men.He cocked a brow. "I thought all women dreamed of white bridal dresses and fairytale weddings."

"Most women probably do. I just haven't found Prince Charming yet."

"Really? Are you looking for him?"

Not these days. Managing a business left her no time for a social life. Or any life for that matter. "Let's just say, I stay clear of all men galloping up on white horses."

"Good to know." He winked and slight dimple appeared on his cheek. "And what is the fair maiden's name?"

"Jillian Connelly. It's nice to meet you." She stuck out her hand.

"Garrett..." he paused, then confidently added, "Guinness." He took her hand in his. "It's nice to meet you, too."

His firm handshake demonstrated a strong conviction not too many people possessed. Not to mention the comforting warmth it left lingering in her palm long after he'd let go.

Why did that name sound familiar? "Guinness, like the beer, Guinness?"

"Y-yep. Umm. Are you from Magnolia Springs?"

Something about the question jarred her back to reality. She checked her watch. She was running out of time. "Born and raised right here."

He removed his ball cap. "I just moved to Florida, and I'm not acclimated to the heat yet. I really didn't think anyone drank coffee in a climate like this."

Would he care if she ran her fingers through his irresistible hair to remove the hat head? "If we waited till it was cool outside to enjoy coffee, we'd only drink it two weeks out of the year. You'll get used to the heat. Wait until July, then you'll be wishing you hadn't moved from...?"

"New York."

She took a quick sip of her coffee, wishing all the way down to her toes that she didn't have to dash. She missed leisurely sipping coffee. "I hate to run, but I really need to get back to work."

"Ah, yes. A workaholic."

"What?" She wasn't a workaholic. Well, maybe she had been working way too much these past few months to make ends meet. But today, at least, she had a very good excuse.

"Saturdays aren't in the work week," he said.

The hours of a business owner didn't stop for weekends, nights, holidays, or ever for that matter. "I want my best friend to have a beautiful bridal bouquet, and I don't want to rush."

"So, as the owner, you take an active role in your business?" Garrett questioned.

"How did you know I was the owner?"

"I'm observant." He smiled like a Clue player who'd just discovered Professor Plum, in the study, with the candlestick. "You're wearing a florist apron that says Jillian's Petals, your name is Jillian, and you have a leaf in your hair." Garrett plucked the greenery from her head, and produced the most kissable, flirtatious grin.

If pulling one leaf from her head resulted in that kind of smile, she should have stuck a whole plant in her hair.

"Thank you for the coffee." She took the last sip of her espresso and stood to leave, reluctance weighing heavy on her feet.

"Don't forget your things." He reached under the table and extracted her white bag.

Their fingers grazed, and an electric sizzle shot through her and ricocheted off every body part from her head to her toes. The sensation finally settled in the pit of her stomach where it tingled until long after she'd turned and escaped from narrowly planting a fat wet, kiss on his lips.

Jillian sat with a five-gallon bucket of lilac roses nested firmly between her bent knees. Her hands were covered with cloth gloves, as she snipped the thorns with a pair of cutting shears.

Because of the lack of sleep and stress, lately she had trouble smelling the flowers in her fragrant shop, but today it smelled sweet like a meadow in bloom.

"So he was gorgeous, intelligent, and witty. And you ran away." Disbelief shone on her best friend Erin's face. "Why?"

"I don't know." Jillian heatedly extracted a long stemmed flower and placed it with all the other flawless roses she was setting aside.

Unfortunately, she knew the answer. She was a scared little chicken who didn't want to be emotionally demolished again.

"Jillian, it's high time you got over Kent. He's a no-good, cheating, lying ass."

Erin was the antithesis of a procrastinator. Her wedding was in a couple of hours and she had time to kill. Who else on the planet was that organized?

She looked liked a fiery angel with her red hair piled on top of her head and her pearl encrusted veil flowing around her porcelain face. She hadn't changed into her wedding dress, but she was on her way to becoming a beautiful bride.

Erin had a personality Jillian adored--tell it like it is, hold nothing back. Sometimes Jillian wished for a pinch of that kind of straightforwardness.

"I didn't leave Mr. Sexy Pants in the coffee shop because of Kent. And what a fine way to talk about your new brother-in-law." Though every word was true.

"He's not my brother-in-law until tonight, so for now, he's still a jerk. A really big jerk who broke my best friend's heart."

"I'm over him, I really am. And I have been since I caught him in bed with his personal trainer. It's just that I'm not thrilled to see him with a date tonight at the wedding, when I don't have one. You know they'll be all lovey-dovey, kissing and dancing close together."

"It kills me that you'll have to see Kent, but I don't know what else to do. I asked Michael not to invite his brother and to make Kent disappear. You know, like swim with the fishes."

Somehow, Erin managed to turn any sticky situation into a humorous joke. Definitely a talent.

"All right, no more talk of Kent. It's your wedding day. Let's start celebrating the fact that Michael is crazy enough to take you on as his wife."

Erin grinned.

"I have some champagne chilling in the refrigerator. Let's make a toast to you leaving the old maids' club." Jillian retrieved the ten dollar bottle of pink champagne she'd bought from the convenience store and filled two plastic cups. "A toast: To my best friend and many wonderful years of happy blissful marriage."

"And to my best friend. May she get laid. Soon."

Jillian's mouth dropped open. "What kind of toast is that? And I'm fine in that area, I'll have you know."

"Using a vibrator every night doesn't qualify as having a healthy sex life."

"I beg your pardon." She placed her hand on the base of her throat.

"We've been roommates for five years and the walls are thin. Take some initiative with your sex life. Meet a man and have a one night stand, a fling."

Jillian was simply not that kind of woman, but why expose all her secrets? "Well, maybe I've already been there, and done that."

"Who are you kidding? Kent was the first guy you ever slept with back in our freshman year of college and you haven't slept with another man since."

Jillian sipped her champagne. The pungent taste brought back bitter memories of the time she'd wasted with Kent. "No, he did enough sleeping around for the both of us."

Erin pushed her veil aside and sat on the counter. "Well, now it's your turn. Take a chance, go out on a limb, and get laid. No names, no phone numbers, no regrets, just plain and simple no-strings-attached sex."

Jillian exhaled the heavy breath she'd been unconsciously holding. It actually sounded intriguing, exciting, yet ... "I don't think so."

"Don't think about it. Just do it. Take a chance in life and stop holding back."

Jillian drained her champagne, hoping to take some of the sting out of the memories. "I take chances in life."

"Like what?"

She took chances all the time. Crazy, nutty chances. Unfortunately, she couldn't think of even one example. "I take chances like ... like I'm wearing a red thong."

"Puhleeese. One day you're going to wake up. You'll be married, you'll have a family, and you'll be driving along in your minivan when you'll think to yourself, you know, I should have listened to my best friend. I should have taken a chance, lived on the edge, and had mind-blowing sex with a stranger."

Erin sloshed more champagne into their glasses.

"Maybe I will." Jillian finished her drink.

"Maybe you should. You're not getting any younger. Be spontaneous. Live a little. Do something completely out of the ordinary."

It could have been the champagne, but Erin's words seemed to strike a cord. Yes, she did need to take a chance in life. Live on the edge, have mind-blowing sex with a stranger.

Then, as if they'd rehearsed it, Hunky Coffee Guy waltzed into her shop.

"I'll show you spontaneity." Standing on her tip-toes, Jillian wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, and leaned in close to his lips then planted a kiss on his mouth.

She drew her tongue across the fullness of his lower lip. Jillian didn't know what to expect, but the current of her body touching his was a luxurious indulgence. God, he tasted like liquid chocolate. YUM!

Jillian stepped away and looked to her wide-eyed friend. "Now how's that for living by the seat of my red thong?"

Erin froze, with a what the--? question on her face. "Jill, do you know this guy?"

Jillian had officially shaken up her nothing-could-surprise-me best friend. Which was a first. "I've never seen him before in my life." She could hardly tease without a smile.

Jillian turned back to Garrett. He had quite the smirk on his face. "I brought you some condoms," he said.

Erin dropped her glass and spit out a mouthful of champagne. She sprang from the counter with her veil floating in the wind. "Well, I never ... in my wildest dreams ... and on my wedding day."

Sure, Jillian could explain, but where was the fun in that? "Erin, don't you have a pedicure appointment you need to get to?"

"Wild horses with naked men on their backs couldn't drive me away. You were saying something about condoms, Mr....?" Erin pushed Jillian aside and stuck out her hand.

"Garrett Guinness." He shook her outstretched hand.

Erin smiled. "Guinness? Like the beer?"

"Yep." Garrett turned to face Jillian. "I gave you the wrong bag back at the coffee shop."

Erin checked him out, both up and down. "So, you're Mr. Sexy Coffee Shop Man?"

"Erin!" She could kill her. Even on her wedding day.

Was it too late to run and hide?

Garrett smiled and out came the big dimples.

"Imagine my surprise when I handed what I thought was a bag containing my grandmother's watch to the repairman." He rubbed his chin.

Jillian squeezed her eyes closed. Please be joking. "You gave a bag filled with condoms to a repairman?"

Erin did nothing to hide her amusement. "What did he say?"

Garrett crossed his arms. "He told me thanks, but he prefers shorter men."