Harper’s throat tightened and her stomach did a familiar dip down. She’d lived an extraordinary childhood, with an extraordinary mother, traveling from one stage to another—never managing to find her own spotlight.
Every cast became family, every set became home, and every time Harper threw her little self into making it fun, making people happy. Ultimately, the final performance would come, her mother would take a bow, and then it would all disappear. Her family moved on to bigger and better sets, her mother moved on to another role, and Harper felt as if she was always left waiting in the wings. Waiting to be noticed.
An irony that didn’t escape her.
“Like me?”
Adam leaned forward and took the camera, setting it on the arm of the chair. Then he took her hand in his and tugged her closer.
“Not like you,” he said quietly. “Nothing about you is ordinary, Harper.”
Around Adam she didn’t feel ordinary, or overlooked, or as if she were destined to be everyone’s go-to friend. She felt seen—not only as a woman, but as the only woman in the room. And yes, she understood, right then she was the only woman in the room. But the way he watched her and touched her made her feel unique.
Wanted.
“Whoa,” he said, giving her hand a soft squeeze. “Dating 101 states you aren’t supposed to cry when a guy pays you a compliment. You’re supposed to smile and say thanks in that mysterious way that neither confirms nor denies your interest so he’s inclined to buy you a drink in order to solve the mystery.”
She blinked back the forming tears, then bent over and kissed his cheek, the stubble tickling her lips as she whispered, “Thank you.”
“You need to hold your cards a little longer,” he said quietly when she pulled back. “Going in for the kiss with one compliment is too easy, even for me.”
She choked a little on her tears. “It was the perfect compliment and a perfectly disastrous day, so it deserved a kiss.”
“Want to talk about it?” he asked, repeating her earlier words.
“Not really.”
“Yeah, well, me neither,” he said. “But since I just broke every rule known to man about women and asked you, while wearing merlot undies by the way, the least you can do is indulge me.”
“It’s stupid, really.” And completely humiliating.
“Then we’ll both laugh.” He took a sip of the Scotch and handed it to her. “Which, if you ask me, beats the shit out of crying.”
A small chuckle escaped, and he was right, it did feel good. In fact, it felt so good she did it again.
He palmed her hips and drew her even closer, leading her between his legs, until their thighs were brushing “See, it can’t be so bad if you’re already laughing just thinking about it.”
Harper took a sip, then cringed as the liquid courage burned a path down her throat. When she could pass air through her chest again, she said, “Liza Miner stopped by to tell me Crafty Mamas would run a craft booth, and the elementary school is on board as well.”
“That’s great. Better than great. It means we actually have a booth filled.”
“And she’ll fill more booths,” she said. “As long as her mommy blog gets all the credit for hosting the event.”
Adam laughed. “I don’t care what she says on her blog. As long as she helps fill tables, and all the proceeds go to the Back-to-School Packs fund, we’re golden.”
“She’ll be happy to hear that,” Harper said. It was still unfair, and extremely petty, but if Adam was okay with it then who was Harper to deny Liza? It wasn’t as if boasting about fake accolades was any more dishonest than convincing an entire town of a fake relationship. Which gave Harper fake street cred in the allure department. “She asked my advice on lingerie for a date she has, right now, actually. She said she wanted to feel sexy.”
“Lingerie? Sex? Hell, if I knew this was what women talked about, I would have asked to chat it out a long time ago,” he said, only half joking. “What did you recommend?”
She felt her cheeks flush. “Honeysuckle.”
“Ah. Great choice.” He lifted his hand to tug at the neckline of her shirt over one shoulder. “Is that what you’re wearing under here?”
She smacked his hand away with her free one. “No.”
“What?” he said, sounding like the offended party. “I’m in my skivvies and I don’t even get a little peek of lace?”
“You’re the subject, not me.”
“What are you going to subject me to?”
She ignored this, but didn’t move her shirt back up. “Liza wasn’t shopping for just any date. It was a first date. With Clay Walker.”
“Ouch.”
“I guess my pep talk on how he could be a good dad and manage to find some time for himself really inspired him. To ask Liza Miner out.”
“Classic dildo move.” His gaze drifted over her mouth, as his hands drifted well below the belt loops on her cutoffs. “Guy’s a moron.”