All Summer Long (Fool's Gold #9)

“No obligation.”


“Right.”

“Good to know. Now we can start dating.” He put his hands on her waist and drew her closer.

She stared at him. “What?”

“Dating. You know, going out. Seeing each other.” He leaned in close and pressed his mouth to her ear. “Hot monkey sex whenever we want.”

She shivered in anticipation, but still had to pull away and stare at him. “You’re saying you want us to go out?”

“No, I’m saying I want us to be a couple. Exclusive. I don’t like casual relationships. It’s too confusing.”

“Dating?”

“Yup.”

She felt bubbly inside. Almost girlie. But she wanted to make sure she understood. “We’ll exclusively date each other for an undetermined period of time.”

He gave her a slow, sexy smile, then took her hand in his and laced their fingers together. “Uh-huh. What do you say, Charlie?”

“I say yes.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“IT’S A BAR,” Dominique said as she glanced at the name on the door. “Are you sure?”

“That it’s a bar or that we should be here?”

“Both.”

“Mom, you gotta trust me. I eat here all the time. You’re going to love it.”

Dominique glanced from the sign proclaiming they were about to enter Jo’s Bar back to her daughter. “Very well.”

This was their first outing together. Dominique had offered lunch and Charlie had agreed. It sounded shorter than dinner, but offered more time together than coffee. Not that Charlie was looking for more time. Still, it was a good compromise.

They stepped into the bar and Dominique paused as she looked around. Charlie tried to see it from her mother’s worldly and elegant perspective.

The walls were a pretty mauve, the lighting bright enough to keep the place from being creepy, but still flattering. Dominique had always been a sucker for good light. The big televisions were turned to what looked like a fashion show and shopping and the clientele were all women.

“Very nice,” she said, at last. “I like it.”

“I’m glad.” Charlie motioned to a booth on the side. “Want to sit here?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“Hey, Charlie.”

She glanced toward the bar and waved to her friend. “Hi, Jo.”

“Great burgers,” Charlie told her mother when they were seated. “I hear the salads are terrific.”

Dominique glanced at her daughter. “Ah, to be young and physical again and not have to worry about my weight.”

“Mom, you look great. Seriously. You’re practically bony. Give herself a break and have a burger.”

“Is the meat organic and grass-fed?”

Charlie rolled her eyes.

“I’ll take that as a no,” Dominique murmured.

Jo walked over with a couple of menus. “Ladies,” she said. “We’re running a special on the barbecue chicken salad. I can also make it into a wrap. And in honor of the fact that it’s nearly fall, we have sweet-potato fries today.”

Charlie moaned. “I love those.”

Jo grinned.

“Jo, this is my mom. Dominique—”

“Dixon,” Dominique said, interrupting her. “Dominique Dixon.” She held out her hand.

“Jo Trellis. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.”

“You have a mother,” Jo said, raising her eyebrows.

“I didn’t just hatch,” Charlie told her. “I’ll have a diet.”

“A glass of Chardonnay for me,” Dominique said. “No. On second thought, I’ll have a Corona with a lime.”

Both women stared at her. She stared back.

“Beer?” Charlie asked when Jo had left. Before this moment, she would have assumed her mother didn’t even know what beer was.

“It will go better with my nonorganic burger. And sweet-potato fries.”

“Impressive.”

“I can be fun,” Dominique said with a sniff.

“Apparently.”

Annabelle and Patience walked into the bar. When they saw Charlie they waved but didn’t approach. Instead they joined a table that included Nevada Janack and Liz Hendrix.

“Friends of yours?” Dominique asked.

“Yes. Annabelle works at the library. She’s engaged to Shane.” Speaking of Clay’s brother reminded her of a conversation she needed to have with her mother, but she would get through the who’s who list first.

“Patience works at one of the local salons. Divorced. Her husband was a real jerk, but she’s got a great kid. Lillie. Nevada—” Charlie pointed “—is one of three triplets.”

Dominique glanced at her. “I’ve met her mother. Denise. She’s very nice.”

“I’m glad you think so. Liz is married to the oldest Hendrix son, Ethan. She’s a mystery writer.”

“I’ve seen her books in the bookstore. What a wonderful place. I know we’re all going to be getting books directly implanted into our brains soon enough, but I still enjoy a good old-fashioned book in my hands.”

“Paper over electronics?” Charlie asked.

“Yes.”