by Marina Adair
And dinner was the biggest moneymaker of the night.
This event was, by far, the best Beat the Heat Adam had ever been to. People had been telling him as much all day. Based on the way Chief Lowen was grinning in Adam’s direction, people had been telling him too.
“The chief was telling me that an opening came up for an incident command position in a special operations wildland firefighting team in Colorado Springs. He wants to send someone from our unit so they can come back and train our firefighters here,” Roman said. “It would be a six-month post, minimum.”
“Six months with those guys would be invaluable,” Adam said, thinking about the lucky SOB who’d get to go balls to the wall with some of the most elite firefighters in the country. He wanted to be that SOB so bad he could taste it.
“It would also mean getting six months closer to lieutenant, which is why I want to recommend you.”
And there it was. That addictive buzz that preceded a major rush. It started in his chest, pinching and gaining volume, then moved up and out until his entire body was intoxicated at the idea. “Thank you, Cap.”
“You did the hard work. I just want to acknowledge it,” Roman said. “Your experience as a smokejumper has given you the ability to evaluate the big picture in a matter of seconds, but the way you handled McGuire and Seth and getting everyone involved in helping with the event cemented that you’re a real leader.”
“I learned from the best.”
Roman gave a short, tight nod, then cleared his throat before he spoke. “I’ve known that you were a great firefighter, but now when you talk, the guys get in order and go.”
“I work with a great crew. They’re like my brothers.”
“This isn’t the time to be humble,” Roman said with a laugh. “They follow you—not just because they like you, but because they respect you. You’ve earned that respect. Including mine.”
Adam wasn’t sure what to say. For the first time in forever he was at a loss for words—an overflow of emotions could do that. So could being conflicted.
Did Adam want to be the IC on that special ops team? Hell yeah. He was willing to do just about anything to make sure he was the top candidate on that list. Anything except put Roman in a tight situation.
It was no secret that Lowen and Adam weren’t BFFs. Just like it was no secret that Lowen would rather promote McGuire than see Adam rise in the ranks.
“What about the chief?” Adam asked, suddenly regretting every prank and play-it-loose relationship he’d had.
Roman smiled. “With everyone telling him what a great job you did managing this event, and how you pulled everyone together to get it accomplished, if I back you, you’re in.”
Adam was beyond humbled that a man like Roman, decorated and admired, saw enough in Adam to put his name on the line. But he also knew there was someone else who was behind Beat the Heat’s success. “Harper really came through for this event.” She’d also come through for him, in a big way. Because of her unwavering support, he’d been given the chance to prove himself. “If you can make sure some of that praise you’re doling out makes it her way, it would be appreciated.”
Roman’s smile faded and he went serious. Too serious to be anything good. “Actually, Harper is the reason I haven’t brought you up to Lowen yet,” Roman said in a low voice. “I wanted to talk to you about the position first. Make sure it worked with you.”
“No need to talk, everything about this works for me,” Adam said, his shoulders relaxing a bit. “Being so specialized will put me in a management position when I get back, not to mention on the fast track to lieutenant.”
Roman lifted a brow, as if waiting for Adam to see the catch. But there was no catch—this was a golden opportunity.
“It will also put you an airplane ride away from your girlfriend.”
Adam’s chest pinched at the thought of not seeing Harper every day. He wasn’t sure what was going to happen come Monday when that clock expired, but he liked the idea of seeing where things led. Harper was sweet and funny and sexy, and she got him. Got him so completely that he didn’t have to pretend to be anybody but himself.
And he didn’t want to lose that.
Harper would tell him he could have both. That he’d be an idiot to pass it up. And she’d be right.
Adam smiled. “Harper knows how much this job means. She would be behind it all the way.”
Roman lifted a brow. “But how much does she mean to you?”
A question that should have been a breeze to answer. A question that a few weeks ago wouldn’t have sent his mind racing and his heart thumping. Harper was so many things to him: a lover, a confidant, an unwavering support, and, most importantly, a friend.
Adam found himself smiling at that last one. Harper would punch him if she heard him say that, but he didn’t care. As far as he was concerned, that was her most amazing quality. That and her smile.
“She’s special.” And after this talk he was going to find her and buy her that chocolate-dipped banana, then hold her hand and walk around the festival. Maybe even try to win her a teddy bear. Nah, a bunny, she’d like that better.
“The thing about special people is that if you make them wait around, you risk missing out on everything that’s special,” Roman said, all cryptic.
“You go to the Golden Noodle and clean them out of fortune cookies again?”
“All I’m saying is that six months is a long time.”
“It’s six months. I’ve been gone for longer during bad fire years,” Adam said, wondering what was going on. Roman was acting like Adam being gone would be a problem. “Unless you think it will affect my position here.”
“No. The opposite.” Roman opened his mouth to say more, then wiped a hand across his brow and sighed.
Something was up. That was for sure. Roman was blunt by nature, always said it like it was and didn’t waste time on making it frilly. It was why he was such a good captain. But right then, Roman was acting like he was navigating a minefield, and Adam didn’t want anything to detonate.
“The only person who hates BS as much as I do is you,” Adam said. “So what’s going on?”
Roman nodded, a sliver of respect in his eyes. “I need to know before you go all-in and I take this to Lowen that you and Harper have talked and agreed that this is what you want.”
“Oh,” Adam said, then laughed. Because, shit, Roman had him confused. But now he got it. More often than not, when a guy with strings was offered a promotion that required relocation, they’d always check first with their other half. Who would undoubtedly take issue with their spouse leaving for so long. Since Adam had neither strings nor a spouse, he had no problem saying, “I’m good. I mean, Harper is sweet and special and we’ve been having a fun time, but it’s not like that.”
By that Adam meant that while Harper might have been his other half while planning the event, had even been the perfect pretend girlfriend in a really hot affair, they weren’t officially at the check-in stage. In fact, come Monday they wouldn’t be official anythings. Except partners in a sexy game of pretend.
Roman didn’t need to know all the details, those were between Adam and Harper, but he needed to understand that his job came first. So even though Roman’s eyes were darting over Adam’s shoulder, clearly telling him they had company—probably Lowen—Adam added, “What’s real is this opportunity and the chance to become a better firefighter. A better leader for this department. Harper and I, she’s great, but it’s not that serious.”
A weird heaviness pressed down on Adam’s chest the second he said the words. Taking in a deep breath, he tried to ease the tension, but it was as if there was a misfire between his brain and his body. It was too connected to his heart—which was telling him that this was more serious than he was allowing himself to admit.
Roman stared at him for a long moment, his expression uncharacteristically closed. “I heard different.”
“You heard wrong.” There went another misfir
e. This one bigger, stronger, impossible to ignore.
“Actually, he probably heard the rumor that I bought a pregnancy test,” a very familiar female voice said from behind.
Adam wasn’t sure what caused his lungs to freeze up more—the fact that Harper was standing directly behind him or that’d she said pregnancy test. He closed his eyes, playing over exactly what he’d said, praying she hadn’t overheard, then slowly turned around.
Yup, she’d overheard all right. Enough to have that permanent smile of hers so dimmed he could barely make it out. The hurt in her eyes, that was as clear as fucking day. The second she looked up at him, bam, the hurt and disappointment swimming there knocked the wind right out from under him.
“Harper,” he said, then trailed off. Because what the hell could he say to come back from that?
Adam had been here before, in this very situation, and he knew the aftermath of speaking first and thinking too late. There was no coming back. Just ask the best candidate to come out of the Cal Fire academy, who Adam managed to take out with a few simple, thoughtless words. They were spoken from inexperience, naiveté, and an ego that was too big to question. But it wasn’t until Trent died that Adam realized he’d said them out of fear.
“Man, rumors travel as fast as secrets in this town,” Harper said with a self-conscious shrug. She stood there in that pretty dress that had been calling out to him all day, holding on to two frozen bananas and enough hurt to make him a thousand kinds of bastard. There were other things there in her eyes, things he didn’t want to acknowledge. “It’s just a rumor.”
“So you didn’t buy a pregnancy test at the pharmacy?” Roman asked skeptically, as if his checkout-counter intel was solid. The problem was, in St. Helena it usually was.
“I bought three.”
Shit. Adam felt everything bottom out. He was free-falling—out of control, with no parachute, and too many strings wrapped around him to breathe.
“No need to panic, they weren’t for me. They were for, uh, a friend,” she said, maintaining eye contact. One of the things he’d seen on her cute little Allure List. Only right now she didn’t look cute. She looked crushed, and he was the cause.
“How much did you hear?” Adam asked.
“Enough.”
Right. He already knew that. The look of utter humiliation on her face said she’d heard everything she needed to.
But instead of crying or ripping him a new one, like any other woman would have done, she plastered a sweet smile on her face that made everything he’d said, every bonehead decision he’d made, that much more real. And painful. Because even when Harper received a direct shot to the chest, she still managed to look after everyone around her.
“Enough to know that whatever position you give Adam he will rise to,” she said to Roman. “He’s a great firefighter and an even better guy. He deserves this.”
She looked at him for a long, tense moment, the same fake smile in place that was breaking his fucking heart, and Adam wondered what Harper deserved. Certainly not this. Not for it to be publicly announced that what they’d shared hadn’t been important or special. Because, Jesus, that made it sound as if she weren’t important or special.
When she so was.
“Enough to say that I am so excited for you,” she said, and he could hear the sincerity in her voice. It was right under the hurt and disillusionment. “I guess all that’s left to say is congrats.”
Eyes on Harper, Adam asked Roman, “Could you give us a minute?”
“That’s okay,” Harper said, the panic tightening around her neck.
She didn’t want to be alone with Adam. Because in one minute she would be doing the only thing that could possibly top her most humiliating moment. Bawling her eyes out over discovering her pretend relationship had been pretend.
But Roman was already nodding and walking away, which meant she needed to dig deep and tap into all of those acting skills her mother had tried to instill in her.
“I really am happy for you.” He went to speak, so she shoved the banana in his hand. “Hurry before it melts. Gotta go.”
“Harper.” His voice willed her to stay, but the pity she knew was on his face had her legs moving. She made it three steps when she felt a warm hand gently lock around her wrist, halting her escape.
“What you heard . . .” he began, and to his credit he did seem genuinely upset that he’d hurt her. “It came out wrong. You are special and—”
“Don’t.” Harper spun around, the anger from a lifetime of rejection building up inside of her. “You have never lied to me, so let’s not start now.”
His face fell at her harsh tone. “I’m not lying. You are special and sweet.”
“And your friend?”
“Yes.” He said it as if it weren’t shattering her heart. Erasing everything that had happened in the past few weeks.
“Then we could have left it at that,” she said, her voice cracking. “I was fine with friends. Fine with naked friends. You were the one who made me believe it was more.”
“It is more.” Adam reached out to touch her face, but she backed away before he could. She would crumple otherwise. She could feel it. Her stomach was already chilled and a sharp stabbing sensation was forming behind her ribs.
“How much more?” She needed to know, because she wasn’t going to let him put this on her inability to read signals. “Because you said you’d wake up just to catch a glimpse of me, that I was your sunrise.”
She stopped and felt a hysterical laugh build up. “Oh my God, they were lines. That’s what you say to someone at a bar, and I thought it was charming.” She placed a hand on her mouth to keep the sob from escaping. It didn’t help. “I thought your pickup lines were charming. How stupid is that?”
“They weren’t lines, Harper.” But she wasn’t listening.
“You charmed me. Made me feel sexy and beautiful and like I was special.”
“You are. God, you are.”
“I don’t feel very special right now. I feel stupid.” Just like she had when she’d discovered Rodney liked her friend, and Curtis didn’t listen to Ricky Martin for his music, and Clay wanted to date a Mom-bot.
Only this was worse. This wasn’t humiliation—it was devastation. Something she hadn’t felt since she’d learned her mom had been only two towns over and hadn’t come to visit. Something she’d gone out of her way to avoid ever feeling again.
And she’d done a damn fine job until Adam charmed his way in, and now he’d blown a hole through her chest to get out.
“You told me you weren’t a sure bet, that you didn’t do long-term, and I listened,” she said, and that was when the first tear broke. “But then you said mine, and I believed that too. Believed it so much that I stopped believing all of the rest, stopped listening to that voice inside of me telling me that this was too good, that you didn’t mean it, that you couldn’t love curls. I believed you to the point that I let myself become yours. Heart and soul, Adam.”
He stared at her, horrified, as if her declaration had stunned him. Stepping close, he reached out to tuck her curls behind her ears. “I do love your curls.”
“But do you love me?”
Adam opened his mouth and nothing came out, just a rush of air, and Harper’s chest caved in on itself. She might not be great at nonverbal communication, but he’d just made himself crystal clear.
“I guess the problem was I didn’t take the time to think it through.” But in that millisecond she thought everything through, realized that this wasn’t just an isolated event, and finally, finally, understood what had started with her father when she was three, repeated itself with her mother, then repeated over and over until she was ready to listen.
She wasn’t ready now, wasn’t sure she’d ever be ready, because once she accepted it, her life would never be the same. It wasn’t about sensuality or allure. It was sadly about love.
Closing her eyes, Harper went up on her toes and placed a gentle goodbye kiss on h
is cheek. She let her lips linger, taking in his smell, putting to memory the way his skin tasted.
With a final brush of the lips she whispered, “No matter how much I love someone, it doesn’t mean they’ll ever be mine.”
I always said Dax was the biggest asshole of the family.” Frankie leaned back on the front porch steps, sipping on some lemonade and passing judgment on Adam as he lathered up Blanket.
Judgment that was more than accurate.
“I was wrong.” She said it as if the words were painful. “I hate being wrong.”
“I know you do, sweet cheeks,” Frankie’s husband, Nate DeLuca, said, walking out onto the porch to sit behind his wife. He rested his hands on her shoulders and started rubbing.
“He had us all fooled. I mean, Dax is pretty hard to top,” Jonah said, grabbing some lemonade off the tray and emptying it in one swallow. He was sitting between Frankie and Dax, who had the nerve to agree.
“You think he’s got the girly squirrelies?” Dax held his stomach in sympathy. “That was the worst part. Just out of nowhere I’d feel like I was going to lose my lunch.”
It was like a big family reunion, right there in the middle of Adam’s screwed-up life.
“I’m standing right here.” Adam waved the sponge he was holding in their direction, brown, soapy water running down his arm. “And I can hear you.”
Nate just smiled, and Adam fisted his hands. Even though he was married to his sister, and was normally a standup guy, he was still a DeLuca—and pissing Adam off—which meant a swift kick to the ass wouldn’t be frowned upon.
Only he was pretty sure he’d get one shot in, then his brothers would step up and get his back. Nate’s back, not Adam’s. Not that he blamed them. The only person who deserved an ass kicking was Adam.