All Summer Long (Fool's Gold #9)

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.”

She blinked. “How did you know it was my mother?”

“It wasn’t hard to figure out. Plus I’ve caught her glaring at me a couple of times at the grocery store. What’s the deal? She doesn’t think I’m good enough for you?”

Charlie managed a strangled laugh. “Right.”

He crossed to her and cupped her face in his hands. “Don’t doubt yourself. Not you. You’re the strongest person I know. I admire you.” One corner of his mouth turned up. “You’re also sexy as hell and right now all I can think about is how much I want to get you in bed.”

Fifteen minutes ago, she would have sworn there was no way he could talk himself back into her life. That she was determined to be smart about what was going on. That she wasn’t like other women, seduced by a man’s words...and touch.

But she would have been wrong.

The first second his mouth touched hers, she was lost. She found herself clinging to him, holding on as if she would never let go. He was strong and solid, warm and familiar. She knew his scent and the sound of his laugh.

When his lips brushed against hers, she parted for him, then stroked his tongue with hers. Wanting turned liquid. Need burned through her. In less than a heartbeat, she was hungry for all that he did to her.

He drew back and stared into her eyes. “Tell me you want me,” he murmured. “I mean it, Charlie. I need to hear the words.”

Perhaps to be sure this was what she wanted, too. Perhaps because he knew she needed to say them.

She stared into his dark eyes, seeing the passion there. The acceptance and maybe even affection.

“I want you.”

Her voice was a whisper, but it must have been enough because he gave a low groan and kissed her again. Harder. His touch more insistent. She felt the passion in him and it fed her own. His mouth claimed hers before moving lower. He kissed along her jaw, moving toward her ear. When he reached the sensitive lobe, he nibbled until her breath caught.

She rested her hands on his shoulders, feeling the broad, thick muscles, then moved her fingers down his chest. Each defined rise and dip excited her. When she reached the waistband of his jeans, she pulled his T-shirt free and put her hands on his bare belly.

Clay sucked in a breath. “Okay, we’re doing this right,” he said, stepping back and taking her hand.

He led her down the hall to her bedroom. Once there, he kicked off his shoes, then pulled a box of condoms from his front pocket and tossed them on the nightstand.

Charlie stared at the small box, waiting for the first wave of panic. After all, she knew what they meant. What would happen next. She waited, braced for the need to run. But there was only anticipation.