All Summer Long (Fool's Gold #9)

Charlie nodded.

“I already told Clay he did a good job. He stayed calm.... He took control of the situation. He made sure his people were safe and then he put the equipment back where it belongs.” She smiled. “I was wrong, Charlie. You said to give him a chance and that was the right thing to do.”

“Thank you.” Charlie was careful to keep her expression neutral. No one needed to know that on the inside, she was doing quite the dance.

“I expect him to be one of our best,” Olivia continued.

Michelle turned. “There it is. The high sign. Clay’s heading to the showers. I want to enjoy the show.”

Charlie’s stomach twisted. But before she could react, the captain stepped in front of Michelle. She drew her eyebrows together and glowered.

“I must have misunderstood you, Michelle. Because I know how you would cause a stink to high heaven if a man wanted to spy on you in the shower. Clay Stryker is one of us now. You will show him the same respect you’d show anyone you worked with. Or anyone in the community, for that matter. Do I make myself clear?”

Michelle flushed and ducked her head. “Yes, ma’am.”

Olivia sighed. “I’m going to make sure no one else has your bright idea.”

Charlie exhaled slowly.

Michelle waited until the captain had left to put her hands on her hips. “I just wanted to look,” she grumbled.

“I believe that’s illegal in all fifty states.”

“But he’s perfect.”

Charlie thought about him touching her, kissing her, then taking her to the stars. “He really is.”

* * *

CLAY FOUND THE drive back to the ranch anticlimactic. Okay, maybe he didn’t qualify for superhero status and a cape that made him fly, but he deserved something pretty damned close.

It had been a great day. Watching the firefighters work the line had been a rush and a half. Actually being able to do something was even better. But the best part had been the captain saying he’d done a good job.

He was used to being complimented. But all the accolades were about how he looked—something he had very little control over. Sure he worked out, but he knew that his appearance was simply the luck of the draw. He’d been gifted when it came to certain genes, nothing else. But putting out that grass fire, taking charge and getting it right was about who he was inside.

He drove onto the ranch and parked. As he climbed out of the cab, he saw Nate slipping into the barn. While there was nothing unusual in that, he didn’t like the way the other man glanced over his shoulder, as if hiding something.

Clay walked into the barn. It took his eyes a second to adjust. When they did, he wished they hadn’t.

Nate stood by a girl, his hand at her waist, her arms around his neck. Clay didn’t care if his farm manager was making friends. What he did object to was the age of the friend. His use of the word girl had not been idle. She didn’t look old enough to drive.

“Afternoon,” he said into the silence.

The couple jumped apart. Nate turned and swallowed. “Boss. You’re back.”

“I am.” He crossed to them. “I’m Clay Stryker.”

The girl—a pretty blonde with big blue eyes, smiled shyly. “Hi. I’m Candee.” She held up two fingers. “With two e’s.”

“Nice to meet you, Candee. I need to talk to Nate for a minute. If you’ll excuse us?”

Candee giggled her agreement. Clay grabbed Nate by the arm and dragged him to the other side of the barn.

“I won’t even get into the fact that you’re supposed to be working,” he growled. “What the hell are you doing with a girl her age?”

Nate bristled. “She’s over eighteen.”

“You sure?”

“She swore she was.”

“Did you bother to confirm that?”

Nate shook free of Clay’s grasp. “This is my personal life we’re talking about. I run your farm. Whom I date is my business.”

“Not when it’s on my time.” He paused to remind himself that getting pissed wouldn’t help the situation. “This is a small town, Nate. You’re new here. If you expect to avoid getting attacked by a crowd of angry mothers with pitchforks or worse, you need to be sensible. Find someone closer to your age. Or at least out of high school.”

Clay glanced back at the girl. “If she’s under eighteen, you’re fired.”

Nate went pale. “No, boss. Don’t say that. She’s not. I know she’s not. I really need this job.”

“Maybe you should act like it.”

Nate nodded. “You’re right. I won’t see her again.”

“Fair enough.” Clay returned to Candee’s side. “I need to see your driver’s license.”

Candee blinked at him. “Why? I’m not trying to get a drink.”

“Humor me, please.”

She opened her small handbag and held out her wallet. He leaned in to check the date.

God was smiling at him, for sure. Candee had turned eighteen the previous month. He straightened.

“It was nice to meet you, Candee.”

“You, too.” She rocked forward and back on her feet. “Are you who they say? That model?”