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.