All Summer Long (Fool's Gold #9)

Her chest suddenly got tight as heat burned a path to the center of her body. Wanting followed, leaving her weak at the knees. The man knew how to get to her, she thought, unable to summon any regret for the fact.

Two college-age women walked past. They caught sight of Clay and did a comical doubletake. One of them nudged the other and said something Charlie was glad she couldn’t hear.

It happened all the time. Everywhere he went, women noticed. She would guess that he was offered phone numbers and sexual invitations on a nearly daily basis. Was he tempted or did it get old? She was almost afraid to ask.

As far as she could tell, he’d never been unfaithful to Diane. Personality-wise, Clay didn’t seem interested in screwing around. Maybe he’d gotten it out of his system while he’d been younger. He had mentioned his dog days, before he’d met Diane.

“You got serious,” he said. “What happened?”

She jerked her head toward the girls. “You have fans.”

He didn’t bother looking. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“You don’t get bored and think ‘what the hell’?”

“No.”

“As simple as that?”

“I’ve got what I want. Why would I go looking?”

Meaning her? She didn’t think he was saying that, exactly. They weren’t involved. Not in the traditional sense.

“I’ve suspected that being you isn’t as easy as it seems,” she admitted. “Now I’m starting to learn that being with you isn’t that easy, either.”

“I’m worth it,” he said with a grin.

She thought about how she felt when she was with him. Not just sexually, but how she enjoyed his company. With Clay there weren’t any games. Just a sense of connection.

He was worth it, she realized. He was someone she wanted to be with. Which was going to make saying goodbye more difficult than she would like.

* * *

BY FOUR O’CLOCK, Charlie had lost her glow. She was tired, her feet hurt and the endless parade of small children asking the same question over and over again had ceased to be charming. She reminded herself it was her own damn fault for signing up for a double shift at the festival. Michelle would be on to relieve her any second. Then Charlie was going to go home, open a bottle of wine and sink into a bath. She might never come out.

Fifteen minutes later she’d handed over the reins, so to speak, and was about to head to her house. Clay appeared at her side.

“Hey,” he said. “Finally done?”

They were across the street from the fire engine, standing next to the seating for the band that would start in a couple of hours. The sidewalks were crowded, the attendees loud and the late-afternoon warm. Around her were perfectly normal men, some of whom were even good-looking. Life would have been so much easier if she’d just been attracted to one of them.

“Charlie?”

She grabbed his hand and drew him away from the streaming pedestrians and over to the side of the stage. It seemed to be the quietest, least crowded place in the festival.

She had to tell him the truth. Honor dictated she come clean and release him. It would be wrong to take advantage of him. Temptation was strong, of course. Need. Tingles. All reasons to keep things going. But she’d always prided herself on her character. She might have flaws but not being honest wasn’t one of them.

“We need to talk,” she told him, allowing herself to get lost in his dark eyes.

One corner of his perfect mouth turned up. “You know guys hate hearing that, right?”

“Maybe, but it’s true. I’ll make this easy on you. I’ll talk and you listen and then we’ll call it a day. How’s that?”

“It depends on what you have to say.”

“A cautious man.”

“I’ve been married. I know there are hidden pitfalls.”

She wanted to laugh, or at least smile. But right now it was hard enough to keep breathing. In a very short period of time, Clay had become important to her. Not in-love important—she wasn’t a complete idiot. But he was someone she liked having around. She would miss him. A whole lot more than she would have thought possible.

She supposed the good news was that with her healing came the prospect of a regular relationship. Sadly, she wasn’t interested in anyone else. Which made her the star in a bad teen movie.

She reminded herself that doing the right thing might hurt in the moment, but it always felt better in the long run. She sucked in a breath and plunged ahead.

“I want to thank you,” she said. “For helping me. For being patient and funny and godlike.”

She expected him to smile at that, but his gaze remained serious. “I know where this is headed.”

“Maybe so, but I’m still the one doing the talking. Remember?”

“Go ahead.”

She tucked her hands behind her, then dropped them to her side. “You were great. Better than you had to be. The bottom line is you’re going to get fair treatment at the department and I’m healed. So, technically, we’re done.”

She stared into his face, trying to figure out what he was thinking. There was no obvious sign of relief, for which she was grateful. A loud “Thank God!” would have been humiliating.

“No more deal,” he confirmed.

She nodded.