All Summer Long (Fool's Gold #9)

“I heard about what happened with the seed and Nate,” Rafe said, tossing him the tablecloth they were supposed to put on the table. “You okay?”


Clay’s good mood faded. “No. I’m pissed and confused. First the graves, then Nate, then the seed. I’ll admit the seed and the graves are just bad luck, but I’m the one who picked Nate. I went with experience over my gut and I was wrong. What gets me is that he was screwing around in town. I want to live here for a long time. I don’t want parents mad at me because my farm manager has a thing for teenage girls.”

“You handled it. He’s gone. The situation is resolved.”

“I still feel like an idiot.”

“Next time you’ll listen to your gut.”

“Agreed. I keep waiting to find out how else I’ve screwed up. With the seed, I’m playing a waiting game. It has to sprout before it can be pulled out. Something about the toxicity. My schedule will get pushed back, which I don’t like, but can’t do anything about.”

“No fall alfalfa?” Rafe asked.

Clay faked a punch. “Shut up.”

“I’m being sympathetic.”

“Yeah, sure you are.” Clay told himself to shake off his mood. He was going to see Charlie. That was worth smiling about.

“Hey, I was going to send flowers.”

“Are you two fighting?” their mother called from the kitchen.

“Who us?” Rafe yelled back.

“You two boys get along, you hear me? Charlie and her mother are joining us and I want you to make a good impression.”

Clay thought about last night in Charlie’s bed. She’d wanted to be in charge again—a circumstance he found he enjoyed. She was learning more and more about what she liked and what they could do together. Good thing he worked out regularly—otherwise her energy could kill him.

“Charlie, huh?” Rafe asked. “When did you start seeing her?”

“While you were gone.”

“She’s good people.” His older brother frowned. “Don’t screw with her.”

Clay knew what Rafe meant and he liked that Charlie had people to care about her. “She’s important to me,” he said, then he grinned. “And she can’t get enough of me.”

“Then you’re a lucky man.”

“I know.”

“I can’t remember the last time you brought a girl around.”

“I was still a teenager when I headed to New York,” Clay reminded him. “I did most of my dating out of town.”

“We all liked Diane, but it’s good you’re moving on.”

Clay nodded. With Charlie, there was a growing emotional connection. He knew her and respected her. He wanted her, but that was easy. They were good together. It wasn’t love, but it was more than he’d ever expected.

They finished setting up the table, then went into the kitchen. Shane and Annabelle were collecting ingredients for nachos. Glen was in charge of the barbecue, where he would cook the wings. May had just put a large tray of stuffed mushrooms in the oven.

The old-fashioned kitchen was crowded and loud. There were plenty of “excuse mes” and “coming throughs.” Still, it was warm and Clay knew he’d been right to come home and settle here. Sure, Nate had been a mistake, but he’d made it right. He’d already put a call in to Ty and they were going to talk about the farm-manager job.

He heard a truck in the driveway. “They’re here,” he yelled and went out to greet their guests.

He winked at Charlie but walked around to the passenger side where he opened the door.

“Hello, Dominique,” he said, holding out his hand and helping her to the ground.

“Clay.” She reached back inside and passed him two pastry boxes. “I brought pie.”

“We love pie.”

“Make sure you keep working out after you eat pie. My daughter deserves a handsome boyfriend.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, taking the boxes from her. “Mom’s in the kitchen.”

“I can find my way.”

Dominique started for the house. Charlie came around the side of the truck and winced. “That was a little heavy-handed,” she said. “Sorry. The parental thing is new to her and she’s still figuring it all out.”

He grinned. “You do deserve a handsome boyfriend.”

“You’re in no danger of falling short.”

“I might get fat.”

“Not if you want to make it as a volunteer firefighter, big guy. We’ll test your physical prowess every year.”

He leaned in and kissed her. “On or off the field?”

She leaned in, her mouth hungry against his. “I’ll come up with some very special qualifying activities.”

“I look forward to that.”

He shifted the pies to his right hand and cupped his left behind her neck. Her mouth was insistent on his. He nipped her lower lip, then slipped his tongue inside. Heat burned through him, making him want more. She grabbed onto his biceps, as if in danger of falling.

“How do you do that?” she asked with a whisper. “Make me want you with just a look or a touch?”

“Magic.”

She rested her forehead on his and tried to control her breathing. “I’m thinking that might be it.”