Need You for Mine (Heroes of St. Helena)

by Marina Adair

  It had been two days since the main Beat the Heat events, and Adam hadn’t caught a single glimpse of Harper. Not around town, not at the Sweet and Savory, not even at her grandma’s shop. The last part had him deeply concerned, since tomorrow was National Underwear Day and the front display was only half-finished.

  Adam had tried calling, even stopped by her place to talk, but either she hadn’t been home or didn’t come to the door. The only communication he’d had was a text late last night, explaining that she no longer needed him at the Swagger prelaunch. Not that he could blame her. Hell, he wouldn’t blame her if she never spoke to him again.

  A sharp pain lanced his chest at the thought, taking away any pleasure he’d felt from Lowen offering him the IC position. What should have been the biggest moment of his career thus far had fallen flat. It felt hollow because he couldn’t share the moment with Harper.

  “See that,” Frankie said. “That constipated look he has going on? He knows he’s an asshole.”

  “Been there,” Nate said, pulling Frankie back against him. “It’s rough, man.”

  Adam dropped the sponge in the bucket, water sloshing over the side. “Seriously, I’m out here, washing your damn alpacas with this”—he smelled his hands—“flowery soap and you’re giving me shit?”

  As if that weren’t bad enough, Mittens chose that moment to drop pellets. Then he shook, which had Blanket doing as his daddy did, and in two seconds Adam was drenched and smelling like wet fur.

  “It’s oatmeal lavender. It soothes their skin and protects them from sunburn,” Frankie said, walking down the steps to lay a hand on Blanket’s newly naked rump. The smaller alpaca started humming. “Which wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t flaked on babysitting. I had to call in Aunt Luce on her poker night. Which means these guys ate nothing but bar food and mai tais. Then Luce lost big to Pricilla Martin and had to sell their fleece. Pricilla’s knitting her granddaughters sweaters out of it.” Frankie snapped her fingers. “Maybe Adam could knit Harper a sweater. With a cat on it.”

  Dax grimaced, then weighed in. “It would have to have a card with it that says this asshole loves you if it were to work.”

  “I thought you two would be all over my ass to back off,” Adam said. “You’re married to her best friend,” he said to Jonah, “you’re marrying her other one,” he said to Dax, “and as you said, Harper is sweet and I’m . . . me.”

  “That’s just it. You aren’t acting like you,” Dax pointed out.

  “How the hell would you know? You’ve been back in town, what, six months?”

  “He’s getting all pissy,” Dax said to Jonah and Nate.

  “I know. It’s the first sign,” Jonah said, as if Adam weren’t standing right fucking there.

  Adam wanted to ask him what sign had them smiling as if the entire world was in on some big joke, except Adam. Only, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know, so he took the sponge and went to work on Blanket’s legs.

  Dax laughed and clapped Jonah on the back. “He’s pretending he doesn’t have a woman problem, second sign.”

  “I have never had a problem with women,” Adam scoffed.

  “Yeah, neither did I,” Jonah said, flashing his gold band around like it was a Super Bowl ring. “Now I’m wearing one of these.”

  Dax did the same. Nate didn’t flash his wedding ring, though. He circled his wife’s belly instead and the glow on Frankie’s face said it all.

  “Are you guys pregnant?” Adam asked.

  The happy couple looked at each other, and no confirmation was needed. It was in the way Nate held her close, tenderly rubbing their child. It was also in the way Frankie looked up at Nate, with total and complete faith. In her husband and in their love.

  “Blanket thinks it’s twins,” Frankie said, then burst into tears, and all three brothers gave her a wide berth. Frankie didn’t do tears, just like she didn’t do witnesses to her tears. But to Adam’s surprise, she didn’t reach for her bat. She smiled.

  Big and watery and proud.

  Like she was happy to be crying. Or maybe she was crying because she was happy. Hell, it could just be the hormones. Either way, it took the male members of the family a few seconds too long to react.

  “And I expect hugs,” she sniffed. “Not that bro-pack high five crap you usually do.”

  That’s when it settled that there was going to be a new baby in the family. A round of hugs and congratulations went around, as Adam took in the moment.

  And that’s when he saw it. After years of disappointments, misconnections, and struggling to find common ground, they were finally a family with spouses and kids and enough pets to fill Noah’s ark. And while Adam pulled back from the group hug, something empty and raw settled in his chest.

  Every single one of his siblings had done it. Somehow, despite being raised by a guy who ruled his home with impossible expectations and tough love, they’d managed to find their peace. A happiness so real it was visible and humbling.

  Adam was pretty sure he’d found his too. With Harper. Only he’d looked right into the eyes of forever and went for the quick high, proving he was more like his old man than he’d ever like to admit.

  Worse, his shortsightedness and insecurities had hurt Harper. Badly. She had finally allowed herself to be seen, to open herself up to the idea of more, and he’d passed her over at the first sign of something flashy.

  And Adam knew exactly how that felt.

  “What if long-term isn’t for me?” he heard himself say, and everyone went quiet. But all he could think about was Harper being his, and what that meant. Because if this was what disappointment felt like after a few weeks, he couldn’t imagine what it would feel like in a few years when he made a mistake, after the I dos and kids and making a home. And he would make a mistake. It seemed to be in his blood. “This thing with Harper was different than you and Shay.”

  Jonah grabbed an extra glass of lemonade and walked it over to Adam. With an arm on his shoulder, he said, “Remember when you told me that if you ever had a woman look at you the way Shay looks at me, then you’d do anything to keep her?” Adam nodded and Jonah looked him in the eyes. “This is your girl, bro.”

  Mine.

  He rubbed his hand over his chest, trying to ease the raw ache that was growing. It didn’t help. Nothing he did seemed to help. It just got worse.

  Deeper.

  “She gave me everything I could have ever wanted and I freaked . . . Jesus.” He thought about how Harper must feel, putting herself out there only to be smacked back down. By the one guy who had told her to stop hiding. “I don’t want to be another guy who lets her down.”

  “Then don’t,” Dax said. “Be the guy who makes her world. That’s what love is.”

  “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.”

  Harper’s throat tightened, because Emerson didn’t use works like that often. Harper knew her friend loved her, but had difficulty voicing it. She’d gotten better since finding forever in Dax, but outward emotions were still rare.

  “I love you too,” Harper said, pulling Emerson in for a hug, and Emerson hugged her back. Warm and safe, Harper let herself lean on her friend and release some of the pain for a few moments so she could breathe without feeling as if she were going to die from the ache. “Thank you. I needed that.”

  “I was going to say the same thing.”

  Allowing herself exactly one minute, she wiped back the tears and straightened. “What are you thanking me for?”

  “For being the best friend ever.” Emerson scratched the back of her hand as if having an allergic reaction to the outpouring of girly emotions. “Without you I never would have opened my food truck, or gotten Violet out of her fairy wings. And I never would have opened myself up to the possibility of more with Dax.”

  “Dax is a great guy.”

  “But only you saw that, because you see the best in everyone. It’s what makes you Harper. You’re a romantic, and when it comes to love, Harper, you’re the real deal. So don’t forget that when you walk into the shop.”

  Harper nodded, knowing that someday she would believe it. Today just wasn’t that day. But she had people to impress and a display to fix. Then she could go home and hibernate until fall. Lord knew her heart needed it.

  They rounded the corner and Harper froze. The Boulder Holder was packed, with a line wrapping through downtown, past the St. Helena Hotel. And it wasn’t just the girdle-buying crowd, although they had come out in force. It was made up of young, hip movers and shakers, all holding VIP cards and waiting for their turn to go inside.

  “What is this?” Harper asked.

  “Romance, Harp.”

  Emerson took Harper’s hand and led her through the crowd of familiar faces. Some had their cameras out, others were just smiling, but everyone was watching her, waiting to see her reaction.

  Then she got to the front of the line and saw what all of the squeals were about. At the door, standing in a pair of Swagger Tough boxers and a matching man-robe was Dax. He handed Harper a flyer and said, “This gets you fifteen percent off at the counter, and anything from the online store. Today only.”

  “What are you doing?” Harper asked, trying to keep her eyes on Dax’s face. Impossible since the man was built like a DC-10 and could break steel bars over his very naked abs.

  “He’s part of the live display,” Emerson said, then glared at the women drooling over her fiancé. “And there will be no touching of the display!”

  Harper felt Emerson’s hands on her, guiding her closer to the doorway, past Jonah posing in Swagger Original, and that’s when she caught a glimpse of the window display. Deep fabrics and Scotch-colored accents highlighted the masculine undertones of the display. Everything was bold, smooth, edgy, and so perfect she could cry.

  Then she spotted the leather reading chair in the center of the display and nearly died.

  Not only was the display perfect, but the face of Swagger—and the man who had crushed her heart—occupied it. Sprawled out in yesterday’s scruff, plum-colored boxers, and nothing else, he was posed beneath a giant flat screen, which looked to have been borrowed from the local sports bar and displayed a giant promo poster that had been made from one of her campaign designs. Someone had added the words REAL MEN LOVE.

  She didn’t know what his presence meant, or the message, but she was too afraid to hope. But then she saw the vulnerability in Adam’s eyes and realized he was afraid too. And somehow that allowed her to give in to the hope.

  “I told you I didn’t need you,” she said, in case this was a friendly gesture.

  He tapped his ear, then pointed to the glass. Harper looked at the few hundred women, who were all looking back, riveted on what was transpiring. Cheeks pink, she raised her voice. “I said, thanks, but you didn’t have to do this!”

  Again with the ear pointing, then he gave a come-hither wiggle of the finger.

  “The girl said she doesn’t need you!” Peggy yelled so loudly it could’ve been heard from space.

  “Thank you,” Harper said a little sharply to the older woman, “but I’ve got this.”

  “Oh, honey, I don’t think you do,” Peggy said, and the bobbleheads around her nodded in unison. “Otherwise you’d be in there showing him a little thigh and getting somewhere.”

  Great, now she was getting dating advice from Peggy. With a sigh Ha
rper turned back to the window, only to find the seat was empty. She looked around and watched Adam stride through the crowd.

  When he was close enough to touch her, he put his hands on her hips. “But I need you.”

  A collective sigh filled Main Street, but she ignored it. “Do you need me or my friendship?”

  “Both,” he said. “I want both.”

  Her chest ached at his statement. “I want everything. Not just fun and fancy-free.” She poked him in the chest and her finger bounced back. “I want passion and adventure and love. I want extraordinary.”

  “I want to give you extraordinary and passion. I want to give you everything. Hell, sunshine, I want you,” he said. “Every single part of you. The yellow parts and the orange parts, even the pink parts.”

  “Real men wear pink,” someone hollered from the back, but Adam kept his eyes on Harper.

  “What about the red parts?” Harper asked, her stomach a jumble of knots, because everyone liked those parts of her. It was the rest that always went unnoticed.

  “God, baby, the red ones are my favorite.” To prove it, he ran his hands up her sides and back down, her body tingling at his touch. “They’re all my favorite. Do you know I remember every kiss we’ve ever had, every word we ever shared, every outfit you’ve ever worn, including the bright yellow dress you wore that first night, right here.”

  Harper thought back to that night, the way they’d run into each other, the way he’d made her feel so special and seen, and she shook her head. “That wasn’t real.”

  “That’s what I thought too, but I was wrong. God, I have been so wrong about everything,” he said. “It’s all real. Every look, every kiss, every lame line. The way I feel about you, the man I am because of you—it just took me losing you to realize it.”

  “And what did you realize?” she asked quietly.

  “That you are the most real person I know. There is no way I couldn’t fall in love with you. I think I loved you when you threw your dress at me.”

  “She Hadam at hello,” Clovis said in a dreamy voice.