“Because you got cozy with Adam in your grandma’s shop, then fired the coed for doing the same thing?” Emerson asked.
Harper groaned. “And worse, I liked it.” Harper took a minute to choke on that truth, while her friends did that whole glance-slyly-at-one-another thing again, which actually wasn’t sly at all. It was kind of annoying. “I was kissed by the Five-Alarm Casanova. And I liked it. Not that it is happening again.” She looked her friends in the eyes when she said it, as though having witnesses would create accountability and ensure it would never happen again.
“You sure?” Shay asked. “Because you said it wasn’t happening again, and then you checked the field for him.”
Harper realized she was not only scanning the field for him, but her eyes had zeroed in on his mighty-fine butt in two seconds flat. Like a moth to a flame.
“I’m sure.” She took one last look, then turned to her friends. “I asked him to model for the Boulder Holder, and he said he’d have to think about it. Not that I blame him—posing in underwear isn’t really in his best interest—but if he doesn’t do it, then I am so screwed.”
“It’s not like St. Helena is short on good-looking men,” Shay said.
Shay had a point. For such a small town, St. Helena seemed to have a surplus of man candy walking around. Between Shay’s Cuties with Booties blog, which was filled with hot men posing with animals in need, and her yearly calendar, Harper had shot most of the hotties in town. Only no matter how rugged or sexy the cuties of St. Helena were, none of them had the swagger Chantel was looking for. Except Adam.
Adam had a charisma about him, that something special that made it hard not to stare. In fact, the photo of Adam in SHFD turnout pants and suspenders, holding Large Marge the bulldog, had been the most talked about month in the calendar. Mr. July wasn’t just the calendar’s centerfold, he was also an instant hit. Then her grandma had uploaded it to her Pinterest board and it went viral, making Adam a bona fide Internet sex-lebrity.
Gaining him the exact kind of notoriety he was now trying to avoid. And creating the exact kind of buzz Chantel was looking for. God, this was a mess.
“I’ll ask a few other guys I’ve worked with in the past,” Harper said, “but Chantel is stuck on Adam. He’s my ticket in. So I can’t dump my not-boyfriend for another not-boyfriend and expect Chantel to give me another chance.”
“Chantel sounds like an idiot,” Emerson said. “You don’t need some guy to prove you are perfect for this.”
“Yeah, well, she has her heart set on him.”
Emerson lowered her voice, uncharacteristically soft. “I guess I just want to know where your heart is at?”
“Firmly locked in my chest.” Which was beating a little faster when she thought back to yesterday, how Adam had seemed more concerned with the welfare of her grandma’s shop than chiding her for complicating his life. “I promise.”
“As long as you’re sure, because I would hate to have to explain to Dax how I ran over his brother for being an ass. It would make for an uncomfortable wedding, and I’m already stressing about wearing heels.”
“You won’t have to kill Adam, I’ve got this.”
Shay didn’t look convinced that Harper was in control of anything, so Harper added, “A quick reminder that I was the one who told you Jonah was a good guy.” She turned to Emerson. “And I supported you when you were sniffing around Dax. Encouraging you to jump his bones and go for the golden O.”
“Which he delivered on, then walked out and broke my heart,” Emerson pointed out.
“Yes, but he came back.”
“Only because he was afraid I’d hunt him down and kill him.”
“He came back because he loved you,” Harper said, and even she could hear that her voice had a dreamy quality to it.
She was thrilled that her friends had found amazing men and were living amazing lives. She really was. In fact, she couldn’t think of two women who were more deserving. Most of the time, Harper believed she deserved that kind of happiness too. But sometimes, when life’s silver lining hid beneath the shadows, Harper wondered if she would ever find that kind of connection.
Love, passion, a family—she wanted it all. She just hoped she’d find someone who wanted those same things—with her.
“He did,” Emerson said, and a rare grin escaped. “And now I have a ring on my finger.”
“Well, I’m not looking for a ring, just someone to pose scantily for a catalog.”
The last time she’d been trapped in her small studio with only Adam and body oil, she hadn’t known what his kisses tasted like. This time she would know exactly what she’d be missing out on when they kept everything aboveboard and professional. Which they would.