Need You for Mine (Heroes of St. Helena)

This was not how he’d envisioned spending his morning, sitting in the captain’s office, getting reprimanded for a mistake he’d fessed up to but hadn’t committed. Lowen had chewed Adam’s head off in front of his entire crew, threatening disciplinary action in the form of a letter to add to the colorful collection already in his file. And unless the chief was talking about an attaboy letter, which the pulsing vein in his temple had implied no, then it would sink Adam’s chances of lieutenant.

Roman was right—planning some picnic would be a lot easier than finding a new career. The dent was pretty massive, Seth hadn’t taken a step out of line since, and Adam’s file wasn’t going to get any larger. All in all, it had worked out.

“Didn’t expect you would,” Roman said with a smile. “Seth will make a good addition. The kid has good instincts.”

“When he starts thinking with the right head.”

“As the expert in that field, can you let me know when that’s supposed to start? Because I’ve been waiting for that to happen for years.” Roman pushed the screen of his laptop with his foot until it swiveled so Adam could see it. “Take this, for example. After the week-long course Lowen put us through on the appropriate and inappropriate use of social media with regards to the house, some jackass let his girl put this up on Facebook.”

Roman didn’t say anything else. He didn’t have to. Adam could tell, even before he peeked at the photo, that he was the jackass in question. Which made no sense since he was girl-less. Then he looked at the screen, and looked hard.

His stomach did a vertical drop straight to the floor.

On his Facebook timeline, right there for the world to see—okay, so his world of 3,287 friends—was a picture of Baby in heels, a floral-patterned G-string, and . . . his missing jacket.

Not that anyone could tell it was Baby, since the selfie was taken from over her shoulder into the dressing-room mirror. To him, though, the platinum ponytail and neon flower-studded floss were a dead giveaway.

“Ah hell,” Adam said, fishing his phone out of his pocket and swiping the Facebook app. “My jacket. I didn’t let her wear it. I forgot it, and she must have tried it on.” He’d been too distracted by that kiss with Little Miss Sunshine to remember to grab it.

“That’s some fitting,” Roman said, not knowing Adam had missed the show.

“Yeah, I’ll take care of it.” He gave a few more swipes. “And the picture is already down.”

“Make sure it stays down. I would hate for her to post it anywhere else.” Roman dropped his feet to the ground and leaned in. “The last thing you need right now is more of the wrong kind of attention. Especially from Lowen.”

“I know.”

“Do you? Because sometimes I wonder. I mean, I get that you had a rough start with Lowen, made a punk move, and got caught.” In the utility closet, pants down, with Lowen’s goddaughter went unsaid. “But you have worked hard to prove yourself.”

Now he had to work hard to overcome his reputation. Many of the stories were pure fiction, and the ones that were true had been embellished over time. Once word had spread about Adam and the chief’s goddaughter, and that he had somehow managed to keep his job, he’d become some mythical, urban legend among firefighters.

Adam wasn’t looking to point fingers or lay blame. He was as much a part of the problem as anyone. He’d never clarified fact from fiction, and he didn’t mind looking like a playboy. Adam was good with women, and they were good to him—because he followed the three A’s to dating: always treat women with respect, always make sure they have a good time, and always, always, make sure everyone is on the same page—meaning nothing deeper than a night or two. Which didn’t exactly scream the kind of commitment and leadership Napa County FD was looking for.

“You are so close, I’d hate to see you mess this up,” Roman said, and Adam agreed. He loved his job, but he also wanted to move up the ranks. Be a leader. “They can look past stupid choices made by a stupid kid, but becoming a lieutenant is serious and competitive. And you know damn well Lowen has it out for you. So if lieutenant is still what you want—”

“It is.” More than anything, Adam wanted this promotion. He wanted to become the kind of man who didn’t make snap decisions, but had the control to think things through and explore every possible outcome before acting.

“Good, then don’t give him another reason to pass. Just like California’s fire season starts in January and lasts through December, you might work four on and three off, but if the day ends in Y, Lowen is watching you. And he is looking for a leader, not the guy who jumps without looking and gets caught with his pants down in the equipment closet.”

“My pants weren’t down.”

Roman lifted a brow and, okay, so hers were. “You took the lieutenant’s exam two years ago, Baudouin. You got one of the highest scores in the county, and yet you’re still in the same place. Do you ever wonder why that is?”

Every damn day.

Adam had done everything right. Took all the classes, aced the exam, worked more special ops teams than even his superiors, and yet he’d watched other guys climb the ranks while he remained a senior engineer. “Not my time yet, I guess.”

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