Need You for Mine(65)

Not that he needed to. Every guy on duty was gathered around the kitchen, hanging on every word of the Adam-inspired story—even though Harper was pretty sure they’d all either been there or heard it a thousand times before. The only one who looked as if he wanted it to end was Adam, who stood by the stove tending to dinner.

“Sorority and strip poker?” Harper said, picking up her glass of lemonade and sending Adam a reassuring smile over the rim. “I’d even go in to check it out.”

Adam returned that smile, only his had a touch of embarrassment to it, which added a touch of adorable to the sexy. “See, guys, just doing what anyone would do. My job,” he said, magically appearing at her side to fill up her lemonade.

He was good. Charming, smooth, and never missing a beat. Even when the guys were razzing him. That was how it had been ever since she’d taken her students home and walked back in the station. They’d been surrounded by a group of people, but the way he’d looked at her, tended to her every need, made it feel as if they were the only two people there.

“Maybe, but not even two seconds go by and panties come flying out the window,” McGuire added. He stood next to Adam at the counter, slicing vegetables for the salad. He set down a tomato to give the story his full attention. “Lace and silk and all kinds of catcalls erupted.”

“You weren’t even on the crew yet, freshman. In fact, none of you were even there,” the resident panty-whisperer said, sending Harper a wink as he stuffed cheese and homemade pesto into each piece of chicken. “Otherwise you’d know I only went in alone because I was the first to arrive, and it was a false alarm.”

“A false alarm?” Harper asked, leaning her elbows on the counter, her attention solely on Adam, doing her best to maintain eye contact, which was impossible since he was a pro at making her blush.

“False alarm or not,” Sam said, leaning in to look Harper in the eye, “Adam came out with lipstick on his cheek, digits in his pocket, and every single lady calling him their own personal hero. Said he saved their lives.”

Adam gave the room a mischievous smirk, easygoing and not fazed in the slightest. “Again, just doing my job. What can I say? Women love me.”

“Women?” Sam barked. “They were more like pinups from what I heard, wanting a taste of the legend.” He turned to Harper, and she began to realize why Adam never brought girls to the station. “That’s how he got the name Five-Alarm Casanova, because he can walk into a simple false alarm and walk out with five hot honeys on his arm.”

The barrage of innuendos and stories didn’t slow down, and Harper noticed that Adam took it in stride. But she began to see that he was somewhat bothered. By the fact that he was the center of attention or the subject in what had to be the biggest urban legend in SHFD history, she couldn’t tell.

“Don’t mind the girls,” Adam said, waving a hand as all the other guys jumped in to tell their story about him. Each one more fantastical than the last. “They love to eat, gossip, and tell tall tales. When they get in front of a pretty lady, they seem to forget their manners.”

“I grew up with most of them,” she said, ignoring the little thrill at him calling her a pretty lady. “I actually introduced Ryan to his wife and Luke to his girlfriend.” At the mention of the ladies of the SHFD a few of them straightened up.

“That must be it,” Adam said, “because I don’t remember talking girls and bro-talk when they had female guests at the house. They had on their best faces.”

Harper’s heart rolled over when she realized he was bothered by the stories. Not that they were telling stories, but that they were telling them in front of her, and didn’t that make him all the more irresistible. It also made this faux-mance seem all the more real.

She just wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince—her or his crew.

“He’s right, Miss Owens,” McGuire said, extending a toned and drool-worthy arm her way. “Where are our manners? We always take pretty ladies on a tour of the station. We can start in the equipment room while Adam here tightens his apron.”

Adam frowned something fierce. “If anyone is playing tour guide it’s me.” He slid the casserole in the oven. “I’ll show you the engine bay.”

“But I already saw the engine bay,” Harper pointed out, but Adam already had her hand in his, a possessive move that seemed to surprise him more than it did the rest of the room. And that was saying a lot.

As the guys watched, Adam led her out of the kitchen and down a narrow hallway, ignoring the whistles and laughs behind them.