Need You for Mine(48)
“I’m a guy. Every solution includes sex,” he said, as if that were written on one of the tablets Moses brought down from the mount. “As for this not working out, your hand proves that wrong.” She looked down to find her palm had slid down that stone stomach of his, to tangle in his waistband.
Horrified, and a little turned on, she snatched it back. “You’re not my type.”
“Then you won’t want to collect me,” he said, but something about the way he said it had her wishing she could take back the words.
Five-Alarm Casanova with his panty-melting wink and ladies’ man charm wasn’t her type. But funny, focused, and slightly vulnerable Adam with his quick wit and contagious smile got to her. And that was who she was talking to right then—not the playboy, but the layers beneath.
“Adam—”
“No, it’s okay. The truth is you don’t need me,” he said, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. “You think you do, but you don’t. You’re so good at reading people, bringing them into your world. Every time, you deliver on your potential. God, you’re so damn real, Chantel will want to re-sign with Clovis with or without me.” He got quiet. “But I need you, Harper. You saw the look on Lowen’s face. I’m bound to fuck this up without your help, and I’m so damn tired of fucking up.”
It had been four days since changing her Facebook status to “In a Relationship,” and the closest Harper had come to sensual was tagging Fireman Saves the Day dildos at the Boulder Holder. A huge order had arrived from their largest “toy” suppliers, just in time for their midsummer sale, and since Clovis was off hosting a Panty Raid, Harper had spent her morning restocking the shelves.
Now she was back at the Fashion Flower, folding Lollypants ruffled bloomers for the front display, her ear cocked toward her phone. She had texted Adam earlier that day that the samples from Lulu Allure had arrived, but since he was still on shift she hadn’t heard back. That didn’t stop people from asking about their “relationship,” though.
Harper couldn’t go anywhere without someone weighing in on her romance status, and the shop had never been so busy. Even her students wanted to know about Hadam. It seemed the only person who hadn’t wanted to talk about her and Adam was Adam.
He’d texted her a few times over the weekend, and she’d swung by the station to pick up the Beat the Heat binder, but other than a few pleasantries, it was as if they’d gone back to normal.
Something that should have come as a huge relief. But it didn’t. Harper had managed to snag herself the hottest catch in town, and it was strictly platonic.
Not that there was an interest in blurring the lines with Adam. But it would be nice, for once, if a man wanted to blur the lines with her. Especially a man who seemed to live to defy the rules.
The shop bell jingled, and in walked Liza Miner. As the founding member of the town’s most prestigious mommy-and-me craft co-op, Crafty Mamas, and owner of Whining, Dining, and Diapers, the top mommy blog in wine country, there wasn’t a toddler trend or kid craze that she didn’t create—or capitalize on. She was sophisticated, driven, and one of the biggest voices in the mommy community. She was also a single mom to Brooklyn, one of Harper’s Sprouting Picassos.
Her intense competitiveness was rivaled only by her black book. There wasn’t a parent group she hadn’t infiltrated or a PTA seat she hadn’t won—and her daughter was only in the second grade. Which made her the perfect outreach mommy for Beat the Heat.
“I got your message during the Crafty Mamas’ meeting today,” Liza said, adjusting her designer clutch and getting straight to business. “We’re interested in running a booth, theme and age appropriate, all proceeds going toward the firefighters’ Back-to-School Pack fund.”
“That’s fantastic.” Harper set down the bloomers and barely resisted the urge to pull Liza in for a hug. “I can’t believe it.”
Liza placed her purse on the front display. “I thought about just e-mailing you, but when I heard you were working here today I decided to see you in person. To ask you a favor.”
“Ask away, I am the favor fairy.” To prove it, Harper put on her friendliest smile.
“Actually, it’s more of a requirement.”
A small part of Harper’s heart sank. She didn’t understand why people couldn’t just do things because it was the nice thing to do. And since when had goodwill become so costly?
“I’m sure whatever it is, we can work it out.” After all, that’s what Harper did. Worked hard to make things work, make people happy, and make them smile—although, she was having a hard time holding her own smile.