All Summer Long (Fool's Gold #9)

Charlie blinked. “What?” she asked, bad-seed references running through her head.

Miles kept his gaze on Clay’s suddenly unreadable face. “It has to come out, Mr. Stryker. As soon as it germinates. And not just the seed. The soil, as well. It’s been contaminated. I brought specific instructions with me, along with information about our insurance. We will, of course, cover the cost for removal and returning your farmland to its previous condition. We’re going to get this right. It will just take a little time.”

Charlie leaned against the back of the sofa. “It all has to go?” she asked.

“Yes,” Miles told her. “Along with eight inches of topsoil. I’m very sorry.”

Clay hadn’t said a word. He stood there, not moving. Taking it all in, she thought sadly. Watching his dream be destroyed before it had even begun. First the burial site, then Nate and now this. He must feel like his Haycation dream was cursed.

“Hand it over,” Clay said.

Miles gave him the paperwork and Clay walked him to the door. When the other man was gone, Clay looked back at Charlie.

“I need to go deal with his,” he told her.

“Are you okay? How can I help? I want to do something.”

He looked resigned. The next words came out slow. “I’ll be fine. We’ll get this fixed and then I’ll plant a new crop next spring. It’s not important. Not like I was feeding people.”

“Clay, don’t. You have a great idea. The Haycations are going to work out. This is a setback.”

“A hell of one,” he muttered. He leaned in and kissed her cheek. “I’ll be in touch.”

He left. She didn’t try to stop him—not sure if she should. While she knew that offering comfort was part of the dating relationship, she wasn’t sure about anything beyond that. Should she have insisted he stay and talk? Forced him to verbalize what he was feeling? She was figuring out the girlfriend thing as she went and not doing that great a job, she thought grimly.

She did believe that too much was coming at Clay too fast, which could send him to a bad place. What she didn’t know was how he would act when he got there. Or what it would change about them.

* * *

“I’VE NEVER known anyone who lived in a hotel before,” May admitted. “It seems so decadent.”

Dominique poured tea into the cups and then set down the pot. “If I were to buy a house, I would need staff. Someone to clean and do the cooking. Someone else for the yard. This seemed easier.”

May smiled at her. “You don’t cook?”

“I don’t like to cook. The food here at the Lodge is good, so why not let them take care of the details? With a suite, I have all I need. Meals are delivered and housekeeping takes care of everything else.”

They were seated in Dominique’s suite at Ronan’s Lodge. She’d ordered afternoon tea for herself and her guest. Not just a luxury, she thought with a sigh as she passed over a plate of cucumber sandwiches. A necessary stand in the battle of civilization over chaos.

“I don’t mean to pry,” May said, “but isn’t it expensive to live in a hotel?”

Dominique took a sandwich for herself and placed it on the delicate plate in front of her. The hotel had lovely china for their tea service. Traditional and just fussy enough to be feminine.

“Money isn’t a problem,” Dominique said quietly. “I did well in my career and I’ve been even more fortunate with my investments. I could live in hotels for three lifetimes and never touch the principal balance. But as I’m sure you learned a long time ago, money might buy security, but it doesn’t buy relationships. Besides, I believe that me living in a hotel helps Charlie. It makes my time here seem less permanent and therefore she’s less threatened by me having bought the dance studio.”

“Impressive,” May said, then sipped her tea. “Looking at it from her point of view.”

“It seems to help.”

Dominique had come to see that she still had a long way to go when it came to understanding the mother-daughter dynamic. But progress had been made. Charlie took her calls and reacted favorably when Dominique suggested they get together. It would be some time before they were truly close, but Dominique was willing to do the work. When she was around her daughter, she felt a sense of belonging she hadn’t experienced since Dan had died. Her only regret was the years she’d wasted being so self-centered and foolish.

“You’re doing well,” May told her.

“I hope so. Once I started to understand what I was doing wrong, I was able to make progress.” She smiled. “I do miss talking about myself, though.”

May laughed. “That’s why you have friends like me.”