All Summer Long (Fool's Gold #9)(18)

It sounded like more of a command than a request.

He took in the comfortable oversize sofa, the extra chairs, all done in black leather. Color came from red and tan rugs over the hardwood floors and a few throw pillows. To the left was the arched entrance to a dining room and beyond that he would guess was the kitchen.

He walked to the sofa and sat down. Charlie settled across from him in one of the club chairs. She pressed her lips together, looked at him, then jumped up.

“Stay,” she said, holding out her hand, palm to him. Then she dropped her arm to her side. “Sorry. You don’t have to stay. What I meant is please don’t get up. I think I need to pace.”

Unease radiated from her. Something had happened—he’d guessed that much. “Are you hurt?”

She made a choking sound in the back of her throat. “Not in the way you mean. I’m fine. Everything is fine. Great, even. Sparkly.” She stopped talking and walked to the end of the room. When she returned, she positioned herself behind the second chair, as if wanting a physical barrier between them.

She was dressed as usual in jeans and a T-shirt. Instead of the steel-toed boots she wore at the fire station, she had on athletic shoes. Her arms were toned and muscled, her short hair slightly mussed. She was exactly as he remembered, yet he would swear that everything was different.

He wanted to go to her, to give her a hug and tell her that he would help her get through whatever was wrong. Only Charlie didn’t strike him as the hugging type. On a more practical level, who the hell was he to think he could solve any of her problems? Typical arrogant male response. That’s what Diane would say.

“I want to ask you something,” Charlie said, her hands gripping the back of the chair.

“Okay. What is it?”

“Background first,” she said. Her gaze locked with his, then slid away. “My freshman year of college I had a crush on one of the football players. Senior guy, good-looking. He smiled at me and I was hooked.”

“Lucky guy.”

Charlie blinked at him. “He didn’t see it that way. He invited me to a party.... I went. When he asked me up to his room, I said yes. I was young and stupid. I didn’t realize he expected to have sex. I thought we’d...” She shrugged and looked away. “I wasn’t thinking. Things went too far. I told him to stop and he didn’t.” She turned her attention back to him and pain filled her blue eyes. “I wasn’t strong then.”

Clay felt a rock hit the bottom of his stomach. “He raped you,” he said flatly.

She nodded. “I fought, but he was bigger and he knew what he wanted. After, when I was crying, he told me to grow up, then he walked away.” She drew in a breath. “You know, there really can be blood your first time. I grabbed the blanket and took it with me, then I went to the police. He was brought in and questioned. I could hear him in the next room. When they asked him what happened, he laughed. God, I remember that sound. He laughed and asked them if there was any way a guy like him would have sex with a girl like me unless she’d begged. And even then he’d had some trouble getting it up.”

Clay considered himself an even-tempered guy. But right then he wanted to find the man in question and break every bone in his face.

He consciously controlled his breathing, his anger. Charlie had been through enough. She didn’t need to deal with his reaction to her experience.

“I’m sorry.” Stupid, but all he could think to say.

“Thanks.”

“They believed him, right?”

She nodded. “Everyone did. Even my mother told me it was wrong to tease boys that way. I left college, ended up in Portland.”

“Oregon, not Maine.”

She managed a slight smile. “That’s the one. I got strong. Now I can take care of myself.”

More important to her, she was safe, he thought. No man would have the physical upper hand again.

“I want to tell you it’s behind me, but it isn’t,” she said, staring down at the chair. “I haven’t... I can’t imagine being with someone.”

He stared at her, digesting the meaning behind the words. Charlie had to be close to his age. Which meant she hadn’t been with a guy in over a decade.

“I want kids,” she said quickly, meeting his gaze. “I’m not sure how yet. IVF, adoption, there are a lot of options. I want to have a family.”

“You’ll be a good mom.”

“You don’t know enough about me to be sure about that, but thank you for the support. The thing is I know I have to be emotionally strong as well as physically strong to be a parent. I don’t like it, but there we are. Until I can make peace with my past, I shouldn’t take on a kid.”

She paused, as if gathering her thoughts. “I’m afraid I’ll pass on my mistrust of men to any child I have. I don’t want that. If I have a son, I want him to be proud of who he is. I want him to have male role models in his life, which might be difficult if I don’t get over my problem. If I have a daughter, I want her to grow up with the idea that it’s good to be open to love. I don’t want to pass along my fear.”

“You’ve thought this through,” he said slowly, thinking that Charlie was brutally honest—even with herself. Something he admired and respected.

“I’ve thought about a lot of things. Including your problem.”