Adam grinned, wicked and with purpose—and Harper’s knees wobbled. “I did a lot more than peek.”
“He’s kidding.” When Adam didn’t comment, only twisted one of her loose curls around his finger, she elbowed him in the ribs. “Tell him you’re kidding.”
“No can do, sunshine. Parisian peek-a-boos are powerful stuff,” he said, slinging his arm around Harper’s shoulder. “Plus, some girl was seen wearing my jacket and was nearly mobbed. I can’t imagine what would happen to anyone who spoke out against Hadam.”
Oh God. Harper’s stomach constricted—Adam had seen the post. Not wanting to get into it in front of Clay, Harper used her best teacher tone and said, “Cut the bologna. This is about the jacket, isn’t it?” Without giving Adam the chance to respond, she turned to Clay. “Can you give us a minute to straighten this out? I promise this is not what it seems.”
Clay looked at his watch. “Actually, I have to go. I just wanted to say thanks for babysitting. Enjoy the gift.” He handed her the bag. “Nice to see you, man.”
“He kind of walks like a girl,” Adam said as Clay headed down Main Street toward his car.
“He does not. And what was that? Payback for me interrupting you and Baby?”
He laughed. “No. That was nothing like me and Baby. What happened with me and Baby was a gigantic cock block. That”—Adam wiggled his fingers in an animated wave as Clay drove by—“was just me interrupting some friendly chitchat.”
“That was not friendly chitchat! You totally co—” She looked in the shop’s window at the kids, who were looking back, ears peeled. “Well, you know what you did.”
He grinned. “Maybe you should explain it to me.”
She grabbed a pencil out of her apron and resecured her hair into a messy bun at the back of her head, ignoring the flyaway curls. “Clay was about to ask me out and your kiss was to chase him off.”
“He wasn’t about to ask you out, sunshine,” Adam said in a gentle way that made Harper question herself. She hated questioning herself, even though she did it often when it came to the opposite sex.
“You don’t know that.” But somehow she got the really sick feeling that he did. That she was the one misreading the situation—again. Which was impossible. She was sending the right messages this time, and receiving them.
She opened the bag and wished she had the ability to make herself disappear.
Inside wasn’t a set of pastries and napkins for an impromptu sweets break. Inside was a gift card and a pencil drawing of a big stick figure with a paintbrush, holding hands with a smaller stick figure. They were both smiling, only the bigger one had a halo of curls that took up most of the page. At the bottom, in hard-won scribbles was a big #1 followed by the word SITTER.
“Maybe he’s just not ready to start dating,” she said quietly, reminding herself that his divorce had been finalized just last year, and twelve months wasn’t all that long to mourn the loss of a dream. So she’d be patient. Not that Clay would forget her and Adam locking lips on Main Street.
“Maybe,” Adam said, but he didn’t sound all that convinced.
“What do you mean maybe?”
“I know guys, and he’s not the guy for you.”
Humiliating moment complete, Harper closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to get the burning red embarrassment to recede from her cheeks. It didn’t help.
“I bet this will make it better.” He held up his bag with two fingers and shook it. Harper could hear a pastry tumble around. The grease stain on the side of the bag told her whatever was in there was frosted. The size of the bag said there was more than one.
Maybe cupcakes? Or a dozen cookies? She was an equal opportunity consumer when it came to baked goods, but cookies were her favorite. Especially ones with enough butter to stain a bag. But this bag made her uneasy, because this bag felt like a bribe.
“What’s going on, Adam?” Her gaze fell to his chest when she asked, “And why did you kiss me?”
“You looked like you needed to be kissed, and dumbass wasn’t perceptive enough to see that,” he said in a tone that had Harper looking up and, holy smokes, Adam was looking back.
It wasn’t the look she expected—it was protective and hungry, if not a tad bit confused.
Welcome to it, Harper thought. Two minutes ago, she was so focused on Clay’s chaste kiss she had convinced herself he was going to ask her out. Now she couldn’t seem to remember why she wanted to go out with him.
“He needed to know that it wasn’t you missing out on something amazing. It was him who was missing out.”
“Oh,” she whispered, her stomach clenching a little. “I thought you kissed me as payback for, you know . . .” She waved her hand at his fly and groaned. God, she was so awkward. “So you kissed me to save me from embarrassment?”
He chuckled lightly. “You really need to work on reading signals, sunshine.”
“I don’t understand.”