All Summer Long (Fool's Gold #9)(53)

“Kind of,” he admitted, stretching out on the blanket and reaching for one of the cookies they’d bought. “I was pretty young when my dad died, so I don’t remember him much. Rafe’s the one who missed him the most. Shane has memories, but Rafe was hit the hardest.”

“Your sister has a different dad, right?” Charlie didn’t know much about the lone Stryker sister. She was a dancer of some kind and was estranged from her mother. Something Charlie could relate to. The estrangement, not the dancing.

“Right.” Clay bit into the cookie. “A one-night stand with consequences. We didn’t know very much about the guy. Nine months later, Evie arrived.” He stared up at the sky, then back at her. “She never fit in. That must have been tough for her. Mom was busy working and stuff. Rafe did his best to take care of the family, so Shane and I looked after her. We were only a few years older, so it’s not like we were qualified.”

He glanced at her. “I don’t think Mom ever dated much. It’s been years. I told her no one expected her to live like a nun.” He chuckled. “Something Rafe didn’t appreciate when she moved here and fell in love with Glen.”

“It worked out. Now they’re going to have their own place.”

He nodded. “Shane’s house is nearly done, too. He’ll be moving in with Annabelle. She’s making him crazy. She wants to wait to get married and he wants that ring on her finger.”

“Typical guy. It’s all about possession.”

“He’s kind of in love with her.”

“Annabelle is great. But Shane isn’t going to win the argument. She’s tough.”

“Despite being a mouse sneezer?”

Charlie thought about her petite friend and laughed. “I can’t remember hearing Annabelle sneeze. I’ll have to get back to you.”

“Hello, Chantal.”

Charlie wanted to issue a sternly worded letter to the universe. Wasn’t she supposed to have some kind of sixth sense that warned her when danger approached? Shouldn’t clouds have appeared to block the sun? Or maybe birds could have suddenly taken flight. Anything to give her a half second to prepare before her mother appeared.

She looked up to find Dominique was indeed standing next to their blanket. Even more startling was the fact that her suit-wearing mother was dressed in jeans. Jeans with a silk blouse, but still.

“Hello, Mother.”

Clay scrambled to his feet and wiped his hands on the side of his T-shirt. “Mrs. Dixon,” he said, holding out his hand.

Dominique looked him up and down very thoroughly. “Who are you?”

“Clay Stryker.”

They shook hands, then Dominique sank gracefully onto the blanket and looked at her daughter. “You’re still avoiding me.”

Charlie held in a groan. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Of course you do.” She returned her attention to Clay, who had settled next to her. “My daughter does not appreciate my sudden return to her life.”

“Why were you gone?”

“I wasn’t gone. Chantal left.”

“Children tend to do that. It’s a cycle-of-life thing.”

Dominique dismissed that with a wave of her delicately formed hand. “I had a career and those who needed to see me.”

Charlie found the conversation fascinating. She had the sense that Clay and Dominique were equally matched. Gifted with a kind of perfection that those stuck in the normal world could only experience vicariously.

“Now you need Charlie?”

Dominique’s gaze narrowed. “Who are you and why are you here?”

“I’m Clay.”

“I’m aware of your name. You’ve already mentioned it once. You’re avoiding my question.” She turned her sharp gaze on her daughter. “Who is this person?”

A question Charlie didn’t know how to answer. The truth was impossible. She would rather cut off an arm or a leg than give her mother that kind of power.

“I’m the man your daughter is seeing,” Clay said quietly.

Dominique’s expression shifted to pure confusion. “Excuse me?”

“We’re involved.”

Clay spoke with a certainty that made Charlie want to offer him a kidney. Not that he was telling the truth, but still. It was nice. Like she’d thought before. Kind.

Dominique glanced between them, then tossed her head back and started to laugh. The high sound cut through the afternoon and reminded Charlie of all her uncomfortable days in high school when she’d been too tall, with large feet. Awkwardness had followed her like a stray dog she couldn’t shake.

Clay finished his cookie and reached for his soda. “What’s so funny?”

“You and Chantal? Why would someone like you be interested in her?”

Charlie felt heat on her cheeks. Had the speaker been anyone but her mother it would have been a toss-up between a verbal evisceration and a hard punch to the jaw. As it was, she could only wish to be struck by a meteor.

“You really don’t know your daughter, do you?” Clay asked. He leaned across the blanket and lightly touched Charlie’s knee, then turned his attention back to Dominique. “There’s the usual. Smart and funny. She’s a part of this town, which I admire. She’s brave, which speaks to her character. She doesn’t take crap from me, and I like that a lot. She’s the kind of woman who gets under your skin.”