All Summer Long (Fool's Gold #9)

“You.” She waved at him. “This.” Her hand moved up and down. “The total package.”


He glanced down at himself. He had on worn jeans. He’d pulled a long-sleeved shirt over a white T-shirt, but hadn’t bothered with the buttons. He had showered and shaved, so he knew he didn’t smell.

He’d done his best to stay grounded in a business that had insisted on inflated egos with every level of success. Still, he’d looked in the mirror enough to know he’d been blessed with a great set of genes. Nothing he could take credit for, but he also wasn’t going to ignore the obvious.

“At the risk of sounding like a jerk, you want someone better-looking?”

She made a strangled sound in the back of her throat. “No. I want someone closer to normal. Maybe even a guy who’s a little desperate. You’re so perfect. Physically. I can’t—” She glanced around, then lowered her voice. “I can’t be naked with you.”

He relaxed. This was a problem he could handle. “Are you worried I won’t be interested enough to get it up or that I’ll be critical?”

She gulped air, then raced up the steps. “We’re not talking about this.”

He rose quickly and caught her before she could stick the key in the lock. He put his hand on her wrist. “We are. Which is it, Charlie. Tell me.”

He was close enough to see the thousand shades of blue in her irises, the tiny lines at the corners of her eyes, the three freckles on her nose.

“Both,” she admitted, her voice defiant. “Are you happy? It’s both. I’m scared enough without dealing with having sex with some ass model.”

“Ass model? That’s dismissive. Slightly judgmental.”

She pulled her hand free, then poked him in the stomach. “You have a six-pack.”

“Most days, unless I eat Chinese. The salt is a killer.”

“I’m not like other women.”

“You have all the parts.”

“They may not work.”

He lightly touched her cheek. “They work. I know you’re scared. We’ll deal with that. Together. I’m willing, Charlie.” He smiled. “Trust me, you don’t have to worry about my mechanics.”

“I’ve seen your mechanics. They’re a little terrifying.”

He leaned in. “Airbrushing.”

Her eyes widened. “No way.”

“Sorry to disappoint, but it’s true. You know how they make models’ legs longer in ads, or their teeth whiter?”

She nodded.

“They do the same thing for us. Make the bulge more impressive than it is. In person, I’m not all that.”

The corner of her mouth twitched. “You’re lying.”

“You’ll have to find out for yourself, won’t you?”

The humor faded and she stared at him. “I am scared.”

“I know.”

“The message from my mother was to be feminine and men would like me. I tried and I got raped.”

He touched her cheek again, enjoying how soft her skin was. “You don’t have to change for me. I like you just the way you are.”

She bit her lower lip, then nodded. “How many Danish?”

He laughed. “Three each.”

“Then I guess you can come in.”

She opened the front door. He collected the coffee and the bakery box and followed her inside to the kitchen. After grabbing a couple of paper towels, she motioned for him to join her at the table, in front of the window that opened out onto her backyard. She opened the pink box, then breathed in deeply.

“Heaven.” She grabbed a cheese Danish and took a bite. Her eyes closed and she gave a low moan.

Clay stared at her, wondering if she knew how sexy she was. There was nothing artificial about her. Just an in-your-face attitude. With Charlie, everything was on the table. He had a feeling that once she worked through her problems, she was going to be a guy magnet.

He took a cherry Danish and put it on the paper towel. “About the schedule,” he said, pulling a pad of paper out of his shirt pocket. “What works for you?”

“Can’t I finish my coffee before we talk about that?”

“Why not do both?”

“It’s the morning. People don’t have this conversation before breakfast.”

“Sure they do. They have sex in the morning.”

She chewed and swallowed. “You’re just saying that to put me off my food. You think you can get an extra Danish.”

He picked up his coffee and took a sip, then studied her over the container. “You don’t think people make love in the morning?”

“No. Yuck. What about brushing your teeth?”

“You get up and go into the bathroom and brush your teeth. You can even pee if you want.”

“That’s romantic.”

“It’s better than wetting the bed.”

She shuddered. “Can we change the subject?”

“Is it the idea of sex or bodily functions that bothers you?”

“I can deal with the peeing. I have medical training. I know how things work. It’s just, really? Sex before lunch?”

“You’re obsessed with meals.”

“I like to eat.” She stared at him. “This is all going to be normal, right? You’re not one of those people who wants to wear fur handcuffs or anything, are you? Because that’s not on my play list.”