“I don’t know if I could give that kind of love,” Adam admitted.
“Yeah you do. You already have. Only love could make you pose in your skivvies,” Jonah said quietly, and Adam felt a small flutter warm his chest at the thought of loving Harper.
Which was ridiculous.
He told himself the other night to let her go. That it was better this way, to walk before they became too invested, even though he knew he was already committed.
Harper said he’d made her believe, but she’d done the same for him. He believed in his skills, his character, and his ability to be the kind of man he could be proud of. The kind who found happiness and held tight.
“Fuck.” He leaned against Mittens, or maybe he swayed. He wasn’t sure, but suddenly the weight of what he’d had and then lost was too staggering to remain upright.
“That’s the last sign, bro. The realization that knocks you off your feet.” Jonah clapped him on the back. “Now you need to figure out how to win her back.”
“And it better be good or Emi won’t let me in the house,” Dax added.
Jonah snapped his fingers and looked at Adam. “How about a kitten? We just rescued these Siamese littermates with the most amazing markings.”
“Not every woman swoons for a freaking cat,” Dax interrupted. “Whatever Adam does, it has to be as unique as the woman.”
“The woman wears them on her sweaters,” Jonah defended.
She also has them on her sheets, Adam thought.
“Plus, cats are unique. They all have different personalities, and if you match the right fur baby with the right girl . . . it’s powerful, man.”
But it wasn’t Harper. Harper was warm and giving and so damn sweet in her cat sweaters she melted his heart. But she was also sexy and a little crazy and deserved to be recognized as the extraordinary woman she was—in a way that was as unique as the woman. Nope, flowers, chocolates, and cats weren’t enough.
Harper deserved to be loved with the same fierceness she gave to others. She’d spent her entire life collecting people and making them feel as if they belonged. And he knew just how to become part of her collection.
And maybe, if he was lucky, she’d let him collect her.
News that Hadam was officially over spread through town like wildfire. Harper couldn’t go outside of her apartment without seeing the pitying looks. More humiliating were the condolences and sympathies she received as if someone had died.
That would explain why Harper felt as if she were in mourning. No matter how many times she tried to smile her way through, the numbness remained. It was as if all of the brightness in her world had disappeared and she was left in the shadows.
It had taken every ounce of creativity she had to finish the mock-ups for the calendar. And every ounce of willpower she had not to burst into tears as she stared at image after image of Adam, looking for the perfect shots for the Swagger campaign. So Clovis and the girls had stepped in and offered to tackle the front window display, and in a moment of heartache-fueled desperation, Harper had agreed.
“Just tell me that they didn’t use girdles in the display,” Harper said to Emerson as they walked down the back stairs of their building.
“No girdles, but I did see them arguing over what color man-hammock was the most manly,” Emerson said.
“Oh God, this is going to be a disaster.”
Chantel and Lulu were due to arrive in an hour, which gave Harper fifty-nine minutes to make magic. A hard task when dealt nothing but hammocks and body-shapers. Not to mention she wasn’t feeling all that magical right then. And without a game-changing display or the face of her campaign, they were pretty much sunk.
Harper stopped at the bottom of the steps. “Maybe I should just go back to bed.”
When Harper turned to do just that, Emerson grabbed her by the arm. “It won’t be a disaster.” Harper slid her friend a look. “And if it is, I have three dozen cookies from the Sweet and Savory ready to go, just in case.”
“Confetti cake batter cookies?”
“Yup.”
That confirmed it: today was going to suck. Otherwise, Emerson would have never bought cookies from another baker. She would have made them herself, but she knew that when things got rough, confetti cake batter cookies were the only thing that could pull Harper back from the ledge.
“You could go grab the cookies and meet me on the couch. We can watch Sharknado in our PJs.” Because explaining away the condition of the store and Adam being a no-show were two things Harper didn’t think she could deal with.
Emerson shook her head, then went serious. “Before we round the corner, I want you to know that I love you.”