Need You for Mine (Heroes of St. Helena) (16 page)

Harper couldn’t remember anyone calling her sexy before. Coming from a master woman-whisperer, she should have discounted it. But she couldn’t. He seemed so genuine, and she could tell he believed what he was saying.

Distracting herself from how heavenly his hands felt on her body, she played with a string dangling off the hem of her shirt. “A year, Adam, and he asks my advice on dating, then asks someone else out on
my
date, and I’m stuck here. Working.”

“Correction, sunshine,” he said, taking her hand and tugging her onto his lap—his nearly naked lap, which her short cutoffs did little to protect her from. “You’re here with your boyfriend, who happens to be Mr. July. And everyone knows that July is the hottest month of the year, reserved for the hottest
subjects
.”

She laughed. She was feeling silly and rejected and like a fraud, and he still managed to make her laugh. “Everyone knows that, huh?”

“Yup.”

Just like everyone would know the second Mr. July burned out on this faux-mance. People wouldn’t ask him if
he
was okay, or if
he
needed to cry it out. Because everyone would assume that
he’d
dumped
her
. Harper Owens. The ordinary woman who caught the most extraordinary fish in town, but couldn’t reel him in.

And wasn’t that going to suck.

She drained the last sip of Scotch, noticing that her belly was delightfully warm, and handed the glass back. “Thank you for listening to my pathetic day, but I’m all talked out.”

She went to stand, but he pressed his palms down on her thigh, holding her in place. “Oh, honey, my day will make your pathetic one seem like a trip to Disneyland.”

She snorted, because she’d been to Disneyland. It was her senior trip, and she was in love with the captain of the water polo team. Curtis was sweet, smart, going Ivy League in the fall—and gay. Not that Harper knew. It came as a complete shock when he decided, during the big Happiest Place on Earth photo beneath Sleeping Beauty’s castle, to kiss the captain of the football team. Well, a shock to Harper—her friends were only shocked Harper didn’t know.

“Impossible,” she said.

“It’s a second-glass kind of story.” He took the bottle off the stand next to the chair and refilled the tumbler. “One I promise will have you laughing.”

She crossed her arms.

“Fine, if by the end I convince you mine was worse, then I get a peek at what’s under that top of yours.”

Convinced there was no way his day could have been more embarrassing, and wanting to get off his lap before she went in for another hug—and pressed herself against that twelve-pack—she said, “I think this is just your
mine is bigger than yours
mentality kicking in, but go ahead.”

“As an April Fool’s joke, I submitted a request for a condom vending machine, which was accidently passed up the chain of command.”

Harper’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh my God.”

He gave her a look. “It gets better. I had to go apologize to the chief’s secretary, in person, for writing the word
dick
seventeen times in a formal request.”

Harper felt Adam cringe, so she had to ask, “Who is the chief’s secretary?”

He handed her the glass. “Mrs. Franklin.”

Harper choked on the whiskey. “Mrs. Franklin? She was my first-grade teacher.”

“Mine too. I had to look straight into the eyes of the woman who taught me the importance of penmanship and explain the importance of proper hose safety.” Adam took the glass back and drained it.

“What did she say?”

“That she was so impressed with my use of innuendo she didn’t feel the need to hand it over to her boss.” Adam leaned back against the chair, and Harper felt herself slide a little closer. Her heart followed suit. “I’ve screwed this promotion thing up a few times now, been passed over for lieutenant more than that, but I need to get it right. This is my last chance to prove I’m more than my reputation.”

Harper knew it was none of her business, but sitting on his lap, listening to the frustration in his voice, she felt herself being pulled in. Becoming invested. “Prove it to yourself? Or to the chief?”

“What do you mean?”

“Love interests aside, I’m pretty good at reading people,” she said. “But I can’t figure you out. It’s clear to me how much you want this promotion. You’re planning the biggest headache of the year, and you even took yourself off the market to impress your boss. But you still picked up Baby in a bar, while in uniform, came here having no idea who she was, then two minutes later you kissed me, and have probably kissed a dozen other girls since—”

“I haven’t kissed anyone.”

“—even though you knew it would look bad.” She stopped, along with her heart. “Wait, you haven’t kissed anyone since me? But that was like two weeks ago.”

“I know. I haven’t even gone looking,” he said, sounding equal parts surprised and proud. She understood the first emotion, but the second confused her. It had only been a week that people thought they were dating, but he’d already taken himself off the market before that.

Why?

Was she that bad of a kisser that he’d gone into hiding? Or was she that good and he’d felt those darn tingles too? Not that she got the chance to ask, because he said, “Thinking back to that night with Baby, you were right, it was a stupid move”—his voice dropped to a low rumble—“but haven’t you ever needed to let go? Drop all of the BS and escape for a while?”

“Yes.” Harper had spent most of her childhood pretending that the sets in the play were real, that the cast was her family, and that she belonged in that extraordinary world.

“So you go out, meet someone, there is heat and zero expectation beyond mutual pleasure. And there it is, the chance to get lost for a while, blow off some steam, and before you know it, you’re in a ladies’ dressing room, caught up in the moment, waiting for the rush to take you over, like you’re free-falling from thirty thousand feet without a chute, and . . .” He paused, the look on his face one of confusion. “Really? Never?”

Harper realized she was shaking her head. Because embarrassingly enough, she’d never experienced anything like what he was describing. Even worse, she didn’t know it existed outside of books.

She’d had boyfriends. Some even knew how to make her hum. But to be so caught up in the passion of it all that she felt out of control?
Thirty thousand feet without a chute
out of control?

Sadly, no.

She had serious doubts that she’d ever elicited those kinds of feelings in her partners either.

“Well,” he continued, “I was a little slow in learning that the rush isn’t always worth the repercussions, and the only thing thirty thousand feet without a chute can get you is dead. So I’m changing, because I want this promotion. I need it.”

“I believe you.” She just didn’t understand why. She didn’t think he did either. But being sworn in as a lieutenant seemed to represent more than a promotion to him. It was a defining moment of some kind.

“But I still confuse you,” he said. If anything, that seemed to make him more frustrated than the thought of not getting the promotion.

“One minute I think you’re an overgrown frat boy,” she said softly, “but then you do something incredibly selfless and sweet and . . . you surprise me.”

“I’m not sweet, sunshine,” he said, cupping her face, “and very little of what I do is selfless.”

“You brought me my favorite cookies.”

“Because I needed to figure out why I was being shafted by every single woman in town.”

“You were sweet enough to ask what my favorite was. And you didn’t out me in front of Clay for lying, when you had every right to.”

“I wanted to kiss you.”

“You put your life on the line every day,” she said, and he gave an
all in a day’s work
shrug, but she saw the tips of his ears pinken. “You love to make people laugh, but when it really matters you do the right thing, always. Even when it’s hard. You’re loyal and protective of those you care about, which is why you took the blame for the rookie crashing the engine.”

He stilled. “How do you know about that?”

“I’m the oracle,” she joked, not wanting to rat out Emerson, who’d mentioned Adam was with Dax at Stan’s Soup and Service at the time of the accident. “I know everything and I know that hiding beneath that reputation”—she poked his pec—“is a sweet man.”

One who wanted to make amends for his past and build himself a better future. One who was determined to move forward, no matter how hard. From what, she wasn’t sure. But it impressed her almost as much as it turned her on.

He turned her on. Made her want to ditch the chute and free-fall. Heck, the way he was looking at her, as though her thinking him sweet made his day, made her want lots of things. A kiss for starters, which would lead to another, then another, then the dressing room and that rush she couldn’t stop thinking about.

Her stomach was already in a free fall, and her heart wasn’t too far behind, which was why her head was yelling to pull the ripcord before she got hurt.

Harper straightened, enough so she didn’t feel as if he were surrounding her. “And when a lady pays you a compliment you’re supposed to say thank you, then walk away to keep her guessing.” Still being sucked into his vortex of charm, she stood. “As for your day versus mine, you win, but you have to admit that my introducing Liza to the alluring powers of Honeysuckle for her date with Clay is a close second.”

“Clay doesn’t deserve to see your allure,” he said, his gaze lowering over her body until her nipples went hard. “But I do. A deal is a deal.”

Harper looked down at herself and saw casual—uninspired in her flip-flops, jean cutoffs, and a strategically picked tribal shirt. Sure she’d added some lip gloss and a few swipes of mascara before she’d texted him back, but that didn’t warrant the hunger she saw on his face.

“I’m not wearing anything sexy under here,” she lied. Beneath the crazy artist look, she was wearing nothing but lace and silk—enough to do her own lingerie shoot.

“Did you know that when you lie your eyes go all misty as if you think you’re killing unicorns?” He tsked softly, standing to face her. “And there you go, misreading signals again. It wasn’t the bra and panties that got me the first night.” He was looking at her mouth again. “It was you. And you deserve a man who can see that.”

He took the tumbler, then backed her into a side table, setting the glass down. Without a word he framed her face between his big, rough hands and pressed their bodies close. So close she had to place her hands on his chest for balance.

Which only made things worse, because his body was solid and unforgiving, nothing soft or vulnerable to grab on to. Yet, he was holding her with a gentleness that stole her breath.

“What are you doing?”

“Something I sure as hell don’t deserve, but can’t seem to stop.”

That gravelly midnight DJ voice he had going on went a long way toward making those pesky concerns vanish. And whatever little worry she was clinging to disappeared the second his mouth came down on hers.

Not hard like before, but soft feathering kisses that skated across her top lip, then the bottom one, before capturing them both in a way that had her knees melting. That was to say nothing for what was going on in her panties.

Adam coaxed and teased, sliding his fingers into her hair and pressing in as close as he could, until all of their good parts were lined up. And the man had a surplus in the good part department. Hard muscles contrasted with the gentle way he held her, and suddenly she forgot how to breathe. She simply didn’t have enough brain cells left to figure out how to get enough oxygen to her lungs.

Then he whispered her name and breathing was the least of her problems. Her bones liquefied, her knees buckled, and her heart turned over. And over again. Before she knew what was happening she was wrapped up in a warm man cocoon, sitting on Adam’s lap, her arms locked around his neck.

She dug her knees into the leather of the chair as her thighs settled around his. Adam seemed to like the direction she was taking because he moaned and took the kiss deeper, took everything deeper, until she didn’t know what was up and what was down, even though it felt as if the ground were rushing up to meet them. And Harper let go.

Let go of the fear and the worry. Let go of that damn parachute string, since it was impossible to hang on so tight and live up to her end of the bet. Because fair was fair, and Harper wanted to fall.

“What are you doing?” This time it was Adam who asked, his voice so thick she could barely make out what he said.

Tugging the bottom of her shirt up to show her belly, she said, “Life is too short to be ordinary. And I want extraordinary.”

Harper pulled her shirt off and, no, she didn’t have on Honeysuckle. But she did have on a see-through demi that was guaranteed to heat things up. Although when she tossed her top to the ground, Adam gave her a look she couldn’t quite decipher. A look that had her wanting to cover herself. “What do you see?”

It took him a long moment to speak, but when he did, his voice was gentle. Almost as gentle as the finger tracing her cheek. “I see a woman who is so extraordinary that she makes everything else here seem ordinary.”

Which was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to her. Only instead of kissing her, showing her how incredibly intoxicating she was, he tucked her hair behind her ear and said, “Which is why I have to go.”

A
dam was buttoning his pants and nearly to the shop’s door when Harper came around the corner. Still in nothing but teal lace and cutoffs, she paused by the counter and crossed her arms.

Her hair was a mess of curls from his fingers, her lips bruised from his kisses, and her nipples were hard because he was that good.

“Wait. You’re leaving?”

As fast as humanly possible, because it was the strangest thing. As he stood there, holding her gaze, something inside of him shifted. Something massive and sharp that had his chest doing a whole one-two jab combo to his ribs. The one would be peeling those cutoffs right down her legs and having a lose-yourself moment that he’d been going on and on about.

Except he’d gotten his hands on her, tasted just how sweet she really was, and now he knew he’d get lost—only it wouldn’t be for a moment. He’d want more.

Yes, by more he meant sex, but he also meant talking and laughing and not feeling as though in the morning it would all fade away. And that was where the second jab came in.

“I want to leave before it gets too late.”

“It’s barely nine,” she said, challenge lighting those eyes. “And I need more than one pose.”

Yeah, well that would have to wait. Because what he wanted and what he
wanted
were not lining up. So before he did something stupid, like follow her back inside, he said, “Another night. I promise.”

“But it felt like a tonight thing to me,” she said so quietly he wanted to punch himself. “The chair, the kissing . . . it all felt . . .” She looked up at him and,
God
, it broke his heart. “Was I misreading something? Because it seemed like . . .”

“No. I mean, yes.” Jesus, his mind was all over the place. Opening up to her about his day had been expected. That’s what Harper did, she talked the truth right out of people. But the way he felt talking to her, as if she really heard him, that was as refreshing as it was terrifying. “I was giving you all the signals, Harper. Loud and clear.”

She looked down at his pants, and the tent he was sporting, and shook her head. “Then why are you running out of here?”

Adam let out a breath. “Because I only have a couple weeks.” Of her. They only had two weeks and then their time would be up and they’d most likely part ways. That was how it went for Adam—people came and people left, and life moved on. Not that Harper would move far, she’d still be in town, her smile appearing around every corner, but things between them would be different.

They wouldn’t be required to see each other. So what then?

Harper was open and genuine and the connection they shared felt, well . . . nice. Something that normally scared him off, but with her it was addicting. He didn’t want to lose out, lose her, when this was over. And he would if he took her in her grandma’s shop as if she were just another fleeting rush.

She deserved more.

The strange thing was, around her, he could almost convince himself that he did too. “I don’t want to screw this up,” he admitted.

“So it’s not me, it’s the situation?” she asked and,
holy shit
, she was serious.

Adam laughed because it
was
all about her, but not in the way she thought. He closed the distance, took her hand, and placed it on his pounding heart. “Feel that?”

She nodded.

“That’s all you. Not the lace or the setup in there. You,” he said. “And if this were a few weeks ago, I would have had you naked the second I saw you in those ass-hugging shorts,” he said softly. “Then I would have had you on that chair, the counter, wherever I could.”

“But you could’ve had me, just a minute ago.”

“Yeah?” he asked, embarrassed that he sounded like a seventeen-year-old on prom night.

She smiled, small but sweet. “You know you could have.”

He did, but hearing her say it made him smile. It also made him cautious.

In his line of work, the ability to quickly assess a hot spot was imperative. Smokejumpers operated on worst-case scenario and worked their way backward. From the time the chute deployed, there was approximately sixty seconds to identify the biggest threat, come up with a strategy, and locate an exit route—just in case. Because once you touched down behind the fire line there were no second chances. No do-overs.

No time for mistakes.

Even the most controlled fire could go from squirrelly to shit-just-got-real in no time flat. And this thing with Harper, it wasn’t just squirrelly, it was so damn combustible he was afraid someone was going to get burned. Based on his past, it wouldn’t be him.

“I want you, Harper, but I don’t want to complicate a good thing.”

“So you’re saying you
want
me, but you can’t have me because you want to be friends more?” she asked sourly. “Oh my God, I must be totally cursed.”

“You’re too sweet to be cursed, and I want both,” he clarified, leaning down and kissing her on the cheek. Then because her lips were right there, pouting and sad, he kissed those too. Pulling back only after they were both breathing hard. “See you tomorrow.”

Only he didn’t move toward the door.

“To clarify, you’re saying that if I took off my bra, right now, it would be a waste of time, because this is not going to happen?” Her fingers played with the strap, driving him right out of his mind.

With a pained groan, he headed for the door. “Not tonight.”

“So then you aren’t going to kiss me tomorrow?”

He paused at the threshold and thought about that long and hard. Thought about what it would be like to wake up in the morning and kiss her until bedtime. Then thought about how she deserved extraordinary. “Nope.”

“It’s not nice to lie. It kills innocent unicorns,” she called out.

“It’s not a lie, it’s a fact. And I won’t see you tomorrow since I’ll be at the sheriff’s station finalizing the booth locations and handing out registration forms.” He opened the door. “But put on the Honeysuckle and I might reconsider. Night, sunshine.”

Adam remained true to his word.

The day was almost over and he had not kissed Harper. Not when he spotted her at the Sweet and Savory getting her morning sugar fix, nor when he saw her walking her grandma’s dog down Main Street. He hadn’t even called her over for a quick peck when she pulled two of her students outside to have a nice “chat.”

A chat with boys who were three feet tall, which, with Harper wearing ridiculously adorable heels, had her bending over to get eye level. An action that, from a distance, brought her hips to Adam’s level—and the hem of her flowy dress inches from exposing whether she was wearing Honeysuckle.

But since he was in the sheriff’s department, surrounded by his brothers and a bunch of pistol-toting guys, mapping out booth placement for Beat the Heat, he didn’t think he was in much danger of breaking his word.

“That’s never going to work.” Jonah reached over Adam’s shoulder to flick the quarter off the map and onto the floor. “It puts the second generator too close to the St. Paws booth. Shay won’t have it.”

“I’m not moving a generator to increase the odds of you getting laid,” Adam said.

Jonah shrugged. “Your call, but last year, Ida’s pet duck waddled too close and burned off its tail feathers, blowing the generator. This year, Shay’s bringing that flock of geese that got lost in the migration last year.”

“And we can’t move Shay?”

Jonah laughed. “She had to bribe last year’s planner to get a corner spot, so unless you are offering her street-facing property, no way will she give it up.”

“Could you at least ask her?”

“Do I look like I want to sleep on the couch?”

“You look like you should trade in that gun for your Deputy Pussycat hat,” Adam mumbled, then pulled another quarter out of his pocket and placed it by the stage.

“Too close to the coffee stand. The ladies will complain about having to talk over the noise,” Jonah said and flicked it off the map. “Plus, it blocks the walkway to the porta-potties, which is never a good call.”

“Where do you learn this shit?”

“Planning a wedding teaches important skills.”

“What? Like how to make a table decoration of out fishbowls and where bathrooms should go?” Adam pulled another quarter out and placed it by the oak tree.

“Don’t underestimate the power of event planning.” With a flick, Jonah sent it flying.

“Seriously, you knock one more quarter on the ground and you’ll understand the power of my fist,” Adam said, running a hand over his face.

He’d been at this for hours. Trying to map out a hundred vendor booths, a half dozen games, eating areas, and porta-potties in their small community park was harder than he’d originally thought. He had the basic layout from last year, but over the past week they’d grown their vendors by ten percent and added a food truck—which meant two more generators. The public bathrooms were closed for renovation, hence the porta-potties, and Harper had managed to convince some guy who owned a party games rental company to donate a few of the smaller casino games for the weekend—free of charge.

The woman was magic.

“Just because you’re not getting any doesn’t mean you get to hate on the rest of us,” Dax said from his desk a few feet away. He was flipping through a file, his boots kicked up on his desk. And he was grinning.

“Who says I’m not getting any?”

Jonah and Dax both burst out laughing. Flipping them the finger, Adam walked behind the counter to pick up the quarters.

“The way you were hobbling down Main Street was a pretty good indication,” Dax said, pushing farther back in his chair. “Your balls were so neglected they were singing the blues.”

Adam paused for a beat before setting “generator three” on the counter. “You might think spying is charming, since that’s how you managed to snag Emerson, but it’s not, man. It’s just creepy.”

“Call it what you want, but I’m not the one with the neglected nuts,” Dax said. “And I didn’t have to spy. My fiancée lives above the Boulder Holder. She’s also besties with your girlfriend.”

“More like sisters,” Adam mumbled, regretting the statement the moment it slipped out of his mouth, and Jonah and Dax exchanged a look.

And, yeah, Adam knew he sounded like an ass, but Harper sharing the details of last night with someone else, when he didn’t even understand what had happened, didn’t settle well.

To say he was thrown by how everything went down would be an understatement. The scene was set, the invitation extended and accepted. It was go time. And he’d gone home.

Alone.

Adam realized right then that it was a damn good call. From an early age, Harper had to create the family she was denied. Clovis stepped in for mother, the other biddies great-aunts. Emerson was her sister, and every guy she’d ever come across became a brother. Harper collected people to fill a need.

And Adam didn’t want to be another fucking brother figure in her life, just like he didn’t want to go home alone. But he sure as hell didn’t want to be one more disappointment.

He’d had plenty of practice at that, and she’d had enough of those.

“So you played the friend card, huh?” Dax asked, dropping his feet to the floor and coming to stand by the counter. He picked up the quarter and placed it by the back row of booths. Then he placed another by the other side of the stage.

Adam didn’t ask how he knew where the perfect spots were, since he was pretty sure it had something to do with a woman. Or a wedding. Or both.

“I didn’t friend-zone her.” Adam pulled out a stack of Post-it notes with carnival games written on them. “And even if I did, there is nothing wrong with being friends. Nothing.”

“Oh, it’s something, all right,” Dax said, laughing. “You have a sweet and pretty woman, who wants something casual I might add, and you put on the brakes so you can become friends first.”

Well, hell. When put like that, Adam was the one who needed to wear the Deputy Pussycat hat. “How much did she tell you?”

Dax shrugged. “Not much. She didn’t have to. Those walls are so thin, Emerson and I can hear Harper hold her breath when she watches those end of the world movies. So when you two started hollering in the store downstairs, it was like we were in the room with you. Emerson wanted to fillet you, but I made some popcorn and listened as you embarrassed yourself, then told her it was good news.”