Need You for Mine (Heroes of St. Helena)(24)

It also explained why Harper had been so hostile.

“Don’t sweat it, bro,” Dax said, smiling. “Harper helped Baby land her dream job down the street. Pole dancing or something.”

“Pole dancing?” Adam felt the panic rise up. He knew Baby had found a new job, he just didn’t know what it was. Sweat beaded his brow and his right eye twitched with disbelief. “Please tell me that isn’t some fancy wine-country talk for stripping.”

Could this get any worse?

“Lucky for you, pole dancing is the number one way to stay in shape for the ladies of St. Helena,” Emerson said. “The senior ladies. Baby teaches classes at a dance school down the street. Unlucky for you is you’re still out a chef.”

Knowing he needed to make this right, Adam stepped back. “If I make things right with Harper, can I tell Chief Lowen you are on board?”

“Only because I’m marrying your brother and I don’t want it to be weird at the wedding. And if I didn’t pull out the fire extinguisher when your career was going down in a ball of flames, it would make it weird,” she said. “But if Harper isn’t cool with it, then you are SOL.”

“Not a problem.” He knew exactly how to sweet-talk a woman. “Now how about one of your famous breakfast burritos to go?”

This time the partition shut and locked, almost drowning out the sound of Adam’s stomach growling. Thankful he still had his nuts intact, and that Emerson’s chilly personality hadn’t frozen them off, he made his way across Main Street toward Parties to Go-Go. He needed to talk to Harper, but first he had a party planner to secure.

Charm amped to full, he pushed through the doors and was hit by the scent of latex balloons, varnish, and lavender candles.

Megan stood on a step stool hanging brightly colored lanterns from the ceiling. She wore a crop top that crept higher with every lantern hung, painted-on jeans, and a yoga-sculpted ass that promised to clear his mind of all things sunshine.

The door closed behind him, the bells jingling in his wake. At this, Megan attached the last lantern and turned to face him, a welcoming smile on her face. Recognition lit her eyes and her smile grew—uncomfortably big.

“Adam,” she said, hopping down off the step stool and swaying her way toward him. “What are you doing here?”

“You said I should call.” He leaned a hip against the counter. “Anytime, I believe was your phrasing, but then I couldn’t have brought you this.” He held up her latte. “It’s from next door.”

“That is so sweet.” She leaned over to sniff the steam. And groaned in ecstasy. “Fifty Shades of Chocolate? My favorite.”

“I know,” he said, kicking that Baudouin grin up a few notches. “Which is why I made it a large.”

She didn’t say thank you, didn’t acknowledge that anytime worked in today’s agenda, didn’t reach for the cup—or him. Instead she sat poised behind the counter. And that weird vibe Emerson was giving off was in full effect here too.

“So what can I do for you?” Although there was genuine warmth to her voice, there wasn’t the usual heat-laced undertones he was used to with women.

“I’m looking to throw a party and am in need of a partner.”

“We already had our party,” she reminded him sweetly, and images of New Year’s popped into his mind.

“That was more of a pre-party,” he clarified. “But I was hoping you could help me with this.” He set both cups on the counter and held up the binder.

“Beat the Heat isn’t just a party, it’s the party of the summer,” she said, taking the binder.

Every page she flipped relieved some of the weight Adam had been carrying. He’d flipped through those same pages over a dozen times and was no closer to figuring out how to plan something of this magnitude than when Roman had drafted him. But Megan, flirty and sexy Megan, looked as if she understood everything and knew exactly what steps needed to be taken.

“Are you planning it?”

“Long story short, yeah,” he sighed. “And I need your help.”

“I helped plan Beat the Heat a few years back, when I was first getting started, and gained a lot of new clients from it.”

He rested his elbows on the counter, slid the latte a little closer. “Think of how much more you’ll gain planning it with me.”

He winked.

She looked at the cup as though it were common drip from the convenience store.

Adam tapped his cup to hers and gifted her with his best Mr. July grin—and waited.

It took longer than expected, but he knew the second he had her. Two cute pink spots appeared on her cheeks and she placed her hand around the cup, batting those long lashes his way. Then she—slid it back toward him?

“This is weird, right?” she said in a hushed tone. “The coffee, you here, wanting to plan this event with me?”

“I don’t think so,” Adam said, not sure if she was mad that he hadn’t taken her up on her anytime offer sooner. Or maybe something in the air was making women weird-sensitive. “It’s great exposure for you, and you would be helping me out big-time. That’s what friends do, right?”

She looked around the store, and even though it was empty she lowered her voice. “We’re more of friends waiting for something to happen.”