All Summer Long (Fool's Gold #9)(58)

An hour later, the volunteers were dripping sweat. They’d all passed easily. Charlie warned them not to get cocky. When they faced the drill tower again, the times would be more realistic and challenging.

Clay helped load the equipment into Charlie’s truck. When they were finished, she turned to him.

“Would you please stay a second?” she asked.

“Sure.”

They waited until everyone else had driven away. Charlie stood by her truck, her shoulders tense, her eyes not meeting his. As he’d suspected, something was wrong. But Charlie wasn’t the type to play games. She would tell him and they would discuss it. Work together on whatever it was. He liked that about her.

She drew in a breath. “I really appreciate all you’ve done,” she began. “Helping me and everything.”

He grinned. “My pleasure, and I mean that.”

She didn’t smile. If anything, her expression tightened and her eyes darkened. “Yes, well, I’m fine now. We don’t have to do that anymore.” She motioned between them. “Be together.”

He leaned against the truck and considered her words. “Why the change of heart?”

“I shouldn’t have asked you to begin with. It’s ridiculous and inappropriate.”

“I’m not complaining.”

He didn’t understand. Seducing Charlie had been something he looked forward to. They were good together. They had chemistry and enjoyed each other’s company. They trusted each other. He knew how rare that could be. Sure, it wasn’t love—there hadn’t been a lightning bolt—but it was more than he’d felt in a long time. Being with Charlie wasn’t anything he was willing to lose.

“You’ve been great and I want to say thank you,” she continued.

“What happened?” he demanded. “Who said something?”

Her head came up and for the first time, she looked at him. “No one.”

“You’re a bad liar.”

“I’m not lying.”

There were only a handful of people she would let get to her. Charlie had good friends. None of them would hurt her or make her feel small. Which left the clueless Dominique Guérin.

“It was your mother.”

Charlie opened her mouth then closed it. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I don’t want to do this anymore. What about that isn’t clear?”

“Nothing,” he told her. “Nothing at all.”

It wasn’t in his nature to walk away from a challenge, but this was different. Charlie wasn’t like everyone else. He needed a strategy for getting to the truth. Which meant he needed time.

He walked to his truck without looking back, knowing it wasn’t over. He hoped she figured that out, too.

* * *

CHARLIE ALTERNATED BETWEEN trying not to cry and being pissed. Anger was a much easier emotion for her to deal with. She didn’t like being sad or feeling stupid and she loathed crying. It was such an expression of weakness. She prided herself on being tough. Toughness and tears didn’t go together.

She hadn’t seen Clay in two days. She refused to regret what she’d done. She’d made a sensible choice. Asking him to help her had been beyond ridiculous. She’d been smart to end their agreement.

Only she didn’t feel smart. She felt lonely and lost. Even her house, the one place she enjoyed being more than any other place except the fire station, had ceased to be a refuge. She found herself wandering from room to room, not sure what to do with her day off. She had plenty of chores, but they weren’t appealing. She could call one of her friends and go to lunch, but doubted she would be good company. She alternated between knowing she was a fool to let her mother win and wondering if Clay was thinking of her half as much as she was thinking of him.

Missing him was an unexpected development. The man was good company. He got her, which she appreciated. She liked to think she got him, too. That while there wasn’t a romantic connection, they’d become friends. She liked him. More important, she trusted him.

Why did he have to be so damned pretty?

That was the real problem, she told herself. His looks. If he was just a regular guy, she wouldn’t be having this dilemma. She would have been able to handle her doubts. But all kinds of wishing wasn’t going to change that.

Someone knocked on her door. She had the feeling it could be her mother and wouldn’t that be a nightmare. She hesitated and the knocking came again.

“Open up, Charlie.”

She froze in the center of her living room. Clay? What was he doing here?

She crossed to the door and pulled it open.

If she had to come up with a plan, it would probably be to tell him to go away. That she’d told him what she wanted and he wasn’t listening. Except the second she saw him, she couldn’t speak.

He looked good. Not perfect, model-good, but the guy who made her bones melt kind of good. He was all sexy in jeans and a T-shirt. His expression of determination didn’t hurt, either.

His gaze narrowed as he stared at her. “Done being stupid?” he asked as he stepped into her house and closed the door behind himself.

“What?”

“You let your mother get inside your head. You know better. I’m here because I want to be here. No other reason. I’m not that altruistic.”