Need You for Mine(11)

“I’m not a fire bunny. I offered to help Stephanie Daugherty with the banners since she’s due anytime now and the smell of paint makes her sick,” she clarified. “And I’m fine, thank you for asking.”

As if to prove her wrong, the banner got the upper hand and swallowed her whole, toppling over and taking her down with it. Arms and legs flailed to find purchase, but the sign was too much for her.

“Stupid sign.”

“Now what did that sign ever do to you?”

Ignoring her protests, Adam lifted the banner up and off her with one hand. The other wrapped around her waist and hauled her to a stand. After all, Beat the Heat was an SHFD sponsored event, and as a firefighter, it was his civic duty to step in and help a citizen in need. It was his lucky day the citizen turned out to be Harper.

“It snuck up on me,” she said, flicking a few stray strands of hair out of her face. Strands which, he noticed, were straight and slicked back into that on-the-go messy bun look that took twenty minutes, a flat iron, and a gallon of product to secure. A valley favorite for PTA members and soccer moms, but weird for Harper since she was neither, yet she’d definitely spent quite a bit of time on her hair to make it look carefully casual. “Not a smart move.”

“I don’t know about that.” Adam pressed the sign securely to the window with one hand, then peeled off a band of tape—the one right above that cleavage she was hiding—and attached it to the corner. “I snuck up on you last week and it worked out pretty well for me.”

He reached for another piece of tape, and she smacked his hand. “I said I was fine, and we aren’t going to talk about it.”

She secured the other upper corner and then one of the lower ones.

“It as in the stupid sign and how I saved you?” He stepped closer and leaned in. “Or it, as in the kiss?”

“None of it,” she said, and if her blush was any indication, she might not want to talk about it, but she was thinking about it.

Interesting.

“You’re right,” he said, snatching another piece of tape, which had stuck to her assets in the spill. “This is more of a conversation to have over drinks.”

She snatched the tape back. “No drinks. No talking. No funny business.” She crossed her arms and then leveled him with a glare as if he were one of her students.

“Says the woman wrestling with a sign.”

Her face heated again. “It’s a big sign, and I have three more to hang up before my next class starts, so this is where I say thank you, then you go back to your world and I go back to mine.”

“If that’s what you want,” he said, as if that weren’t exactly what he’d decided to do a few minutes ago. So then why did the thought of coexisting in the same town with no interaction start a tingling of unease?

Because riling up the town’s biggest optimist was fun. It was like pissing off the tooth fairy.

“It’s what we both want,” she said, but her eyes were working double time not to look at his mouth.

So he winked. “Then you and that sign have a good day, sunshine.” With that Adam headed toward the firehouse. Three doors down he half turned and said, “And you might not want to watch my ass when I walk off. Wouldn’t want our two worlds to collide.”

“You’re so annoying,” she hollered.

“You’re so watching.”

He heard a gasp, then some fancy shuffling and what sounded like a huff, seconds before the banner hit the sidewalk and a frustrated “You wish” echoed down Main Street.

With a smile, he kept walking. Right past the flower shop and the party supply store and the urge to go back, until he reached the open bay of St. Helena Fire Station #1.

Built in 1912 and crafted from brick and hand-carved stone, the station was large enough to house two engines, an ambulance, a grass wagon, two support trucks, and a seven-man crew. Out back were spots for several search-and-rescue ATVs and the fire captain’s truck—which was empty.

Presently there was no captain on duty. Not an uncommon occurrence, since their captain worked four on and three off. Lucky for Seth, Captain Roman Brady was off today. Unlucky for Adam, the FNG had called him to fix the situation.

Adam shouldn’t complain—he’d been asking for more responsibility around the station. He’d committed the first few years of his career as a seasonal smokejumper, spending his summers fighting wildfires, and the rest of the year fluctuating between snowboarding in Tahoe and surfing in Mexico. Eight years back, he was hired on as a full-time firefighter, and he’d quickly moved up to an equipment apparatus engineer. Now Adam was ready again to move up the ranks.