Need You for Mine (Heroes of St. Helena)(51)

Tugging the bottom of her shirt up to show her belly, she said, “Life is too short to be ordinary. And I want extraordinary.”

Harper pulled her shirt off and, no, she didn’t have on Honeysuckle. But she did have on a see-through demi that was guaranteed to heat things up. Although when she tossed her top to the ground, Adam gave her a look she couldn’t quite decipher. A look that had her wanting to cover herself. “What do you see?”

It took him a long moment to speak, but when he did, his voice was gentle. Almost as gentle as the finger tracing her cheek. “I see a woman who is so extraordinary that she makes everything else here seem ordinary.”

Which was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to her. Only instead of kissing her, showing her how incredibly intoxicating she was, he tucked her hair behind her ear and said, “Which is why I have to go.”





Adam was buttoning his pants and nearly to the shop’s door when Harper came around the corner. Still in nothing but teal lace and cutoffs, she paused by the counter and crossed her arms.

Her hair was a mess of curls from his fingers, her lips bruised from his kisses, and her nipples were hard because he was that good.

“Wait. You’re leaving?”

As fast as humanly possible, because it was the strangest thing. As he stood there, holding her gaze, something inside of him shifted. Something massive and sharp that had his chest doing a whole one-two jab combo to his ribs. The one would be peeling those cutoffs right down her legs and having a lose-yourself moment that he’d been going on and on about.

Except he’d gotten his hands on her, tasted just how sweet she really was, and now he knew he’d get lost—only it wouldn’t be for a moment. He’d want more.

Yes, by more he meant sex, but he also meant talking and laughing and not feeling as though in the morning it would all fade away. And that was where the second jab came in.

“I want to leave before it gets too late.”

“It’s barely nine,” she said, challenge lighting those eyes. “And I need more than one pose.”

Yeah, well that would have to wait. Because what he wanted and what he wanted were not lining up. So before he did something stupid, like follow her back inside, he said, “Another night. I promise.”

“But it felt like a tonight thing to me,” she said so quietly he wanted to punch himself. “The chair, the kissing . . . it all felt . . .” She looked up at him and, God, it broke his heart. “Was I misreading something? Because it seemed like . . .”

“No. I mean, yes.” Jesus, his mind was all over the place. Opening up to her about his day had been expected. That’s what Harper did, she talked the truth right out of people. But the way he felt talking to her, as if she really heard him, that was as refreshing as it was terrifying. “I was giving you all the signals, Harper. Loud and clear.”

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.