All Summer Long (Fool's Gold #9)

“PICK IT UP, people,” Charlie yelled. “I’ll make this a timed drill if I have to.”


As she watched, the ten volunteer candidates finished running around the track. With the opening of Josh Golden’s cycling school, she’d been offered a new place for her candidates to work out. As long as she didn’t schedule training during cycling sessions, Josh had given her access to both the indoor and outdoor track, the weight room and an unfinished area she planned to use for various drills involving hoses and other pieces of equipment. She was a happy camper.

Now she waited until the last of the women ran up to join the group. Charlie blew on her whistle, the signal for everyone to race toward the large truck tires she’d had delivered. The concept was simple. Drag the heavy tires from one end of the field to the other. After running two miles.

She’d already wrapped ropes around the tires and provided gloves. But nothing helped the fact that the tires weighed about a hundred and twenty pounds. Each.

But instead of racing as instructed, two of the women smiled at Clay. One even flipped her hair. Charlie snorted in disgust. Sure Clay was the most fit person on the field, but he was a major distraction. Still, she would give him credit for ignoring their preening and grabbing the ropes of his tire. In a matter of seconds, he was dragging it across the field at a brisk pace.

The other two guys in the group did their best to keep up with him. Two of the women were only a few yards behind, but the other four were seriously struggling.

Charlie walked over. “What’s the problem, ladies?”

The tallest of the women, the blonde, looked at her. “This tire is too heavy. Can’t we do something else?”

It was the same with every class, she thought, having been at this long enough not to even be surprised. She let the question hang there a couple more seconds, giving herself time to get her mad on. Then she gave the woman the same smile she suspected bears used right before they snatched up unsuspecting salmon.

“There is a belief among many firefighters that women don’t belong. Do you know why that is?” She paused.

All four of them shook their heads.

“Because some idiot wants it to be easy. It’s not easy. A firefighter wears about fifty pounds of gear. Which means if the guy next to him goes down, you have to drag him plus fifty pounds out of a burning building. And by drag, I mean carry.”

She stepped closer to the blonde, staring her in the baby blues and wishing she’d had onions on her burger at lunch.

“Either you’re ready to do the job or you’re not. Because I, for one, am not explaining to any family that Daddy isn’t coming home because you weren’t strong enough to save him. That tire weighs a hundred and twenty pounds. Assuming the average male firefighter weighs two hundred and his gear is another fifty, then you’re responsible for carting around two hundred and fifty pounds. So don’t whine to me about the damn tire.”

When she finished, she wasn’t shouting, but there was a whole lot of energy in her voice.

The blonde’s eyes welled up with tears. “You’re being a real bitch, you know that?”

“I know, honey, but it’s only going to get worse. So this is probably a good time for you to find something else to do with your afternoon.”

“You’re right about that.”

The other woman stomped off the field.

Charlie turned back to her group. She wasn’t surprised to see that they’d stopped to listen. What did impress her was Clay standing on the other end of the field. He’d completed the assignment.

“Anyone else want to complain about the tire?” she asked.

There was a chorus of nos, followed by some serious tire moving.

Three hours later, everyone was dripping sweat and collapsed on the grass. Charlie made sure they each had a bottle of water.

“Good work, people. Michelle Banfield is teaching the next session. You’ll see me at the end of the week.”

She gave them what she hoped was a friendly wave, picked up her clipboard and started toward the parking lot. Clay fell into step beside her.

“Great workout,” he said.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” She kept moving, doing her best not to notice his muscled arms or long legs. Shorts and a T-shirt had never looked so good.

“You went easy on us.”

She glanced at him. “How did you know?”

He shrugged. “It was the first day. You don’t suffer fools but you’re not mean. You didn’t enjoy making Madeline cry.”

“You know her?”

“She introduced herself to me.”

Charlie might be completely inept when it came to the whole boy-girl thing, but she wasn’t stupid. “She gave you her number.”

When he didn’t answer, she wondered how many of the other women had done the same.

“Must be nice to be you,” she muttered.