All Summer Long (Fool's Gold #9)

The other volunteers stood in small groups. They eyed the building, probably trying to gauge how bad it would be. Clay knew he was more than capable of completing the task. Being physically fit wasn’t the issue. Right now he was more concerned about Charlie.

He hadn’t seen her in a couple of days. Although they hadn’t had an appointment, he would almost swear she was avoiding him. When he’d arrived at the drill tower, she’d been busy unloading hoses. In front of others, she was usually all-business. Still, he couldn’t escape the sense that something was wrong.

“Line up, people,” Charlie called. When everyone was in front of her, she pointed to the skeleton structure. “This is the drill tower. Today you’re only going to have to climb it. Twice. If you are selected for actual training, you will spend hours in it, learning every brick. You will grow to love it and hate it.” She grinned. “At the same time.”

It was mid-September. The heat of summer had eased a little, but it was still going to be close to eighty. Which meant it was already in the seventies. The first trip wasn’t going to be too bad, Clay thought. The second one would be a bitch.

“You will have five minutes to climb seven stories,” she continued. “Once you’ve completed that, you’ll put on the gear, pick up a hose and go again. The second climb must be completed in ten minutes. Any questions?”

Someone asked about a water break. Clay was impressed that Charlie didn’t bite the guy’s head off. He knew the times given were generous. When there was a fire, no one could afford to wait ten minutes for someone to saunter up seven stories. He planned to take the stairs at a run.

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.