Читать книгу All Summer Long - Сьюзен Мэллери - Страница 8
ОглавлениеCHAPTER TWO
CHARLIE CHECKED THE saddle one last time, then patted Mason’s side. “Ready?” she asked her horse.
He snorted, which she took to mean yes, then led him out of the barn.
The morning still had a touch of coolness, although it would climb to nearly ninety later in the afternoon. The sky was blue and she was going on a ride. It was already shaping up to be a good day in a pretty good life. She had a job she liked, friends she could depend on and a place where she belonged.
From the corner of her eye, she saw movement and turned. Clay Stryker strolled toward her.
“Heading out?” he asked with an easy smile. “Want company?”
The word that came to mind was no. She didn’t want company. She wanted to ride alone because she preferred it that way. But he was new in town and what with one of her best friends marrying one of his brothers, not to mention her other best friend getting engaged to another Stryker brother, she was going to be seeing a lot of him. It was simply the nature of living in Fool’s Gold.
She eyed his body-hugging jeans and idly wondered if they cost less or more than her monthly house payment. “You know how to ride?”
The smile turned into a grin. The flash of amusement in his dark eyes gave her the answer before he spoke. “I think I can figure out how to hang on. Give me five minutes.”
He turned toward the barn. She found herself staring at his butt, which was as spectacular as it had been the last time she’d seen him. Being physically perfect must be interesting, she thought, leaning against Mason and scratching behind his ears. Clay managed to get her attention, which was something of a trick. Maybe if she spent the afternoon with him, she would feel that flicker again. As her goal was to solve her “man” problem, having a source for flickers and maybe even tingles was a good thing. If he could get her fired up for normal guys, all the better. She would be healed and able to get on with her life.
He returned within the five minutes, a saddled horse walking behind him. She took in the long legs and perfect face. He sure was easy on the eyes.
“I recognize speculation in that look,” he said as he approached. “Should I be worried?”
“Not about me.”
She stuck her foot in the stirrup and swung up and over, landing lightly in the saddle. Clay slipped on sunglasses, then did the same. His graceful movements told her this wasn’t his first rodeo.
“Nice day,” he said as the horses fell into step with each other.
She settled her hat more firmly on her head. “You’re not going to talk the whole time, are you?”
“Is that a problem?”
“Yes.”
“You say what you think.”
“Not as often as I should. Like the other day. You weren’t helping.”
“I broke your fall.”
She rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t have fallen if you hadn’t gotten in my way in the first place.”
“You’re welcome.”
She held in a groan. It had been three minutes and the man was already making her crazy. She told herself to ignore him and instead focus on the beauty around her. The Castle Ranch was west of town and south of the new casino–hotel being built. Maybe a thousand undeveloped acres with plenty of trees and shrubs. Years ago, old man Castle had run cattle on the land, but when he’d died, the place had been abandoned.
She and Mason had a route they usually followed. It skirted the fence line and took them past the property Clay’s brother Shane had bought for the racehorses he bred, around the back of the ranch and down by the main road.
As soon as they cleared the corrals, Mason picked up the pace. She touched him lightly with her heels and he started to trot. They moved together, familiar with each other’s expectations. He broke into a canter and then galloped full out for a quarter mile or so. She let him set the pace, waiting until he eased back into a steady walk.
Clay had kept up through it all and now moved his horse next to hers. “You two have been doing this for a while.”
“We have an understanding.” She took in his comfortable seat and the way he held the reins. “You’ve obviously spent some serious time on a horse. Be careful. Shane will put you to work exercising his.”
“There are worse ways to spend a day.” He turned his attention to the horizon. “I grew up here. We moved when I was still a kid, but I remember liking everything about this place.”
Charlie knew the story of the Stryker family. May, Clay’s mother, had worked as old man Castle’s housekeeper. The miserly bastard had paid her practically nothing, all the while promising he would leave her the ranch when he died. When he finally passed, May had discovered the ranch had gone to relatives back East. She’d taken her children and left.
A few months ago, unusual circumstances had brought May and her oldest son, Rafe, back to the ranch.
“Are those memories why you’re here now?” she asked.
“Some. I wanted to be close to family.” He glanced at her. “I’m starting a business. Haycations.”
She’d heard the term. “Families spend a week on a working farm. Living like it was 1899.”
He grinned. “I plan to offer indoor plumbing and internet access.”
“That will make their kids love you.” She thought about the vacation rentals Rafe was building and the riding horses Shane had recently bought. “Fool’s Gold is a tourist destination as it is. This is going to bring even more visitors. That will make you a popular guy with the city council.”
“I hope so. I meet with them Friday.”
“Haycations aren’t an intuitive leap for a male model.”
He shrugged. “I had to do something with my life. I’m thirty. Being a butt double is a young man’s game.”
She felt her mouth drop open. “I honest to God don’t know what to say to that.”
Clay chuckled. “Trust me. No one wants to see some old guy in his underwear.”
Charlie was sure that was true, but Clay was light-years from anyone calling him “an old guy.”
“You’re quitting before they ask you to leave?” she asked.
“Something like that.” He pointed to the stream that cut through the north end of the property. “Want to have a seat?”
“Sure.” She drew Mason to a stop, then slid to the ground.
They left the horses in the shade and walked to the bank of the stream. She was aware of Clay beside her. Taller, which was nice. Broader through the shoulders. They settled on the grass, next to each other, but not too close. He pulled a pack of gum out of his shirt pocket and offered her a piece.
She took it and slowly unfastened the wrapper. “You lived in New York before?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Fool’s Gold is going to be an adjustment.”
“I’m ready for the change.”
She glanced at his profile. He looked a lot like his brothers, but with the added patina of perfection. She knew almost nothing about his personal life, but would guess he didn’t lack for female attention. Too pretty for her tastes, she thought absently, sticking the gum in her mouth. A man that flawless would scare the hell out of her.
To be honest, nearly any man would scare the hell out of her if she thought he was interested in sex, but no one had to know that. Still, she was determined to conquer her lone, lingering weakness. Just as soon as she found the right guy.
“How long have you been a firefighter?” he asked.
“Nearly nine years.”
“All of them here?”
“No. I started out in Portland.” She smiled. “Oregon, not Maine. Stayed there about three years. I was on vacation when I found Fool’s Gold. I went by one of the stations while I was here and introduced myself. Three days later, they made me an offer.”
“The town seems to have more female firefighters than most places.”
“The town has more women in traditional male jobs than most places,” she said. “Until recently, there was something of a man shortage.”
The slow, sexy grin returned. “I hadn’t heard.”
“Yes, you had and I doubt you care.”
He leaned back on his elbows. “You’re assuming I always get the girl.”
“Don’t bother trying to convince me I’m wrong.”
“I wouldn’t try to convince you of anything.”
“How did you become a model?”
He moved his sunglasses up on top of his head. His dark gaze looked past her to the horizon. “I was discovered at a mall.” He glanced at her. “Swear to God.”
“I thought that only happened in the movies.”
“Me, too. There was a fashion show. I went because hey, pretty girls parading around in what I’d hoped were short dresses. One of the male models hadn’t shown up. They were frantic. I was his size. They shoved me in his clothes and told me to walk. I did. After the show, an agent came up to me and talked to me about becoming a model. I moved to New York a week later.”
“Lucky break.”
“That’s what I thought. I’d just graduated from high school and didn’t have any idea what I wanted to be or do. I started working right away. Within a few months, I had landed a couple of campaigns.”
Ah, a man with a charmed life. She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised. “Fame and fortune followed?”
“I’m not so sure about the fame, but, yes, I did well. During an underwear shoot, there are a lot of changes. No one bothers going behind a curtain. Somebody saw my ass. A few days later my agent got a call asking if I wanted to be a butt double in a movie. At the time it was a little embarrassing, but they were willing to pay, so I said yes.”
“Is it true you had your butt insured?”
He chuckled. “Not anymore, but, yes, I had insurance on several parts of my body. Along with limitations. No sports that can disfigure. I had to maintain a certain weight and build, no tan lines. No tattoos.”
A lifestyle she couldn’t imagine. “What happens now? You gain fifty pounds and get ‘Mom’ tattooed on your butt?”
“I doubt I’ll do either. I’m ready to settle down.”
“Won’t you miss the groupies or whatever they’re called?”
“Nope. I gave them up years ago.”
“After the first couple of hundred, it gets boring?”
“Something like that.”
Casual sex. She’d heard about it, of course. Didn’t understand it, which was part of the problem.
“I’m not sure you’re going to be comfortable here,” she said. “We’re pretty traditional. Family friendly, lots of festivals.”
“I like festivals. Besides, I’ve seen the rest of the world already. This is what I want.”
He looked at her as he spoke. There was an intensity to his voice and his gaze. For a second, she felt that tingle again. An awareness of his long legs and the muscles in his chest and arms.
She reminded herself that being attracted to Clay hardly made her a special snowflake. She would be one of a million and expected to take a number.
“Good luck with settling in,” she said and rose. “I need to get back.”
She walked toward Mason.
“Charlie?”
She turned back to Clay and waited.
“I want to talk to you about the volunteer firefighters. I hear there’s a class starting soon.”
He stood there, bathed in sunlight. The pose was powerful, his body well-defined. He looked like a model in a shoot. Probably not a stretch for him. He’d spent the past decade looking good. No doubt his idea of a hard day was having to get spray-on tan and a haircut. Pretty but useless, she thought.
“I don’t think so,” she told him. “It’s a rigorous process.”
One eyebrow rose. “You’re saying I can’t handle it?”
“I’m saying no.”
The humor faded and his expression became unreadable. “We don’t want your kind?”
“Something like that.”
She didn’t want to be rude to her best friend’s brother-in-law, but this was different. Life-and-death different. Charlie took firefighting very seriously—mostly because if she didn’t, someone would end up dead. If Clay couldn’t handle that, well, that wasn’t her problem.
She swung into the saddle and rode away.
* * *
THE FOOL’S GOLD firefighters worked a nine-day cycle. In that period of time, they worked three twenty-four hour shifts. She did her cardio in the exercise room at the station, but she preferred the gym for strength training. Nearly every morning she was off, she started her day with a grueling workout.
By eight, the business people were long gone and the moms had yet to arrive. There was a lull and she enjoyed the quiet. She left the weight machines for others, preferring to use free weights. Her goal was always to challenge herself, to stay strong. Not just for her job, but for herself. Being strong meant being safe. Dependence was weakness, she reminded herself as she used a towel to wipe sweat from her face.
But today she wasn’t able to find her usual centered place. Her movements were off, her concentration shot. She knew the cause, too. Clay.
She’d been mean the other day, dismissing him the way she had. She wasn’t usually like that and couldn’t help wondering if her reaction had something to do with her awareness of him. Being attracted to a man frightened her and when she got scared, she got defensive. Maybe not her best quality, but one she couldn’t shake.
The crazy part was she knew she had to deal with her problem so she could move on emotionally. So feeling something close to sexual attraction should be a good thing. But her intellect was unable to convince her gut that all was well.
Knowing she had to figure out a way to have sex with a man was one thing. Actually doing it was going to be another. Gritting her teeth and thinking of England had been her original plan. Based on how she’d snapped at Clay, she might need to rethink her strategy.
She glanced toward the punching bag in the corner and wondered if she should try to take out her indecision on something less human. Before she could decide, the man in question walked into her gym and threatened to ruin her entire day.
She felt the subtle ripple go through the building before she saw Clay. A group of women leaving the aerobics room stopped as one and turned to watch him. He walked by the free-weight alcove on his way to the cardio equipment and everyone else in the gym turned to watch. Charlie found herself just as mesmerized by the long, muscled legs and strong arms.
He wore exactly what every other guy wore. Shorts and an old T-shirt. Yet he stood out. Maybe it was the way he walked or the power in his shoulders. Maybe it was that indefinable something that had made him so successful. Whatever, she would swear she heard every woman within two hundred feet sigh.
Clay walked to one of the treadmills. He put in earbuds and flicked on his iPod, then started the machine. Within a minute, he was jogging. Five minutes later, he set a pace that would have challenged her on her best day.
Charlie returned to the rest of her workout. As she finished up with triceps work, she was aware of him just out of view. The loud music in the gym meant she couldn’t hear the pounding of his feet on the treadmill, but she imagined the steady beat and felt herself drawn to both it and the man.
She set the weight back on the rack and faced the truth. When it came to Clay, she’d made assumptions. People had done that to her all her life. They’d taken one look at her too-tall self, at her big feet and strength and thought they knew who she was. Especially after the rape.
She’d always prided herself on being better than that, on getting to know a person, but somehow she’d forgotten. Or she’d been blinded by his appearance. Presumed he couldn’t do the hard work of becoming a firefighter because of what he was rather than who. In her world, those were fighting words.
Aware that there was only one solution, she wiped her face again and walked toward the treadmills. She circled around so she came at Clay straight on, her gaze meeting his.
He didn’t look away. He also didn’t smile. He kept running, his long legs moving with practiced ease, chewing up the miles. When she stopped in front of the machine, he straddled it and hit the stop button. Then he pulled free the earbuds and waited.
She cleared her throat. “I was, ah, thinking. About what you said before.”
His dark eyes were like his brothers’ but without the friendly welcome she usually got from Rafe or Shane. Guilt made her shift in place.
“Fine,” she grumbled. “I was wrong. Is that what you want to hear? I judged you unfairly. I don’t usually but you’re not like other people.”
“Is that your idea of an apology?”
“Yes, and you should accept it because it doesn’t happen often.”
“I can tell. You need practice.”
“Bite me,” she growled, then winced when she realized he might take that wrong. “We are starting a class for volunteers,” she added quickly, before he could speak. “It will cover CPAT preparedness. Oh, CPAT stands for—”
“Candidate Physical Ability Test. I’ve done my research.”
“Good. Then you know you’ll need to pass it before you can start training. I run the classes.”
“Lucky me.”
She couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not but decided not to ask. “If you’re interested in applying, you should. I’ll tell you that the volunteers are well prepared and we have high expectations. If you’re willing to do the work and be dedicated, then there shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Do I get a break because you owe me?”
“No. I don’t owe you and no one gets a break.”
One corner of his mouth turned up. “Just checking.”
“I can’t be bought.”
“Neither can I.”
She huffed out a breath. “The applications are online. The class starts next week.”
“Think you’ll enjoy kicking my ass?”
She grinned. “Oh, yeah. I run a tough class. But over ninety percent of the candidates who complete my training pass the test.” Her smile faded. “People probably assume a lot of things about you, don’t they?”
“All the time.”
“I’ll do my best not to let it happen again.”
“Taking me on as a project?”
“Hardly.” He wouldn’t need her help for anything. “I believe in being fair. Plus, I don’t like it when people judge me. Like I said, you’re welcome to apply.”
“Thanks,” he said and smiled.
The flash of thousand-watt attention caused a distinct clenching low in her belly. She mumbled something that she hoped sounded like “Goodbye” and made her escape.
Once safely in the women’s locker room, she sank onto a bench and held her head in her hands. Even she knew that a clench was much, much worse than a flicker. She could only hope that Clay was a busy guy and totally forgot about applying. Otherwise, she was going to have to face him twice a week for the next eight weeks.
And not just in a “Hi, how are you” kind of way. They would be spending serious time together, working out together. There might even be touching.
Aware that anyone could walk into the locker room at any second, she refrained from banging her head against the wall, even though it seemed like the best plan on the table. Attracted to Clay? Talk about a stupid move.
She straightened and squared her shoulders. No, she told herself. Being attracted to Clay wasn’t a problem. The clench was a sign that she should get started on finding the man who would take her all the way to normal. Or at least seminormal. She would take a lover, do the deed, then get on with the rest of her life. Easy.
When she got home, she would start a list of potential instructional partners, then figure out how to tell some guy that she would very much appreciate it if he would teach her the finer points of the whole sex thing. Oh, and on her way to her place, she should probably stop by the liquor store because that conversation was going to require her to be more than a little drunk.
* * *
CLAY HAD PREPARED for his presentation to the city council. He’d never had to deal with a local government before, but his Haycation idea was going to change that. He wanted the business to be welcome and would use his time to show how tourists would bring plenty of dollars to the area. In return he was hoping for a few minor zoning changes and a little less trouble over permits.
Rafe had told him that Fool’s Gold was business friendly, with Mayor Marsha Tilson taking a personal interest in what was happening in her town. Still, Clay wanted to be prepared. He was the new guy and more than willing to work harder than established businesses. It would be worth it. By this time next year, his Haycations would be going strong.
After setting up his laptop, he tested the spreadsheet program on the large screen in the room. Then he waited for the meeting to start.
By five to eleven, the seats around the long conference table were filled. Charlie had mentioned that women filled most of the jobs traditionally held by men and he saw that was true in city government, as well. Not one city council member was a man. The women who had filed into the room ranged from their early thirties to those “of a certain age.” The mayor had to be close to seventy.
Clay sat in the back of the room. The mayor’s assistant had told him that while he was the star of the morning, the council would need to do a little business first. In a town as dynamic as Fool’s Gold, there was always something going on.
As he glanced around, he found himself thinking it would be nice if Charlie were here. She’d surprised the hell out of him the other day, when she’d admitted she was wrong and apologized. He grinned as he remembered her practically biting the words as she said them. She was tough, both physically and mentally. And fair. Qualities he could admire. He found himself thinking she would have liked Diane, which was surprising. On a physical plane, they were nothing alike. Yet inside, where it mattered, they had the same strength of character.
The mayor called the meeting to order.
“While we’re all here to listen to Clay Stryker’s presentation, first we have an issue with parking behind the library.”
Mayor Marsha picked up a sheet of paper and slipped on reading glasses. She wore her white hair in an upswept kind of bun. Despite the fact that much of the town subscribed to what Clay’s fashion friends would call “California casual,” she dressed in a tailored suit.
“As most of you know, there is a lower parking lot. It’s used for overflow parking and backs up on several warehouses,” the mayor began. “A few years ago we decided to plant trees to provide a visual separation from the more industrial area.” She paused.
“No good deed goes unpunished,” one of the older ladies announced. “You should know that, Marsha. We put in trees to make it pretty and now they’re being used against us.”
The mayor sighed. “While I don’t agree with your theory about good deeds, Gladys, we seem to have inadvertently created something of a problem. The trees have given the parking lot a somewhat secluded feel. Local teenagers have decided to use the lower parking lot as a—” she paused and coughed delicately “—make-out spot.”
An old lady in a bright yellow tracksuit leaned toward Gladys. “Think we could go there and get lucky?”
Mayor Marsha looked at the two women. “Eddie, if you interrupt, I won’t let you sit next to Gladys anymore. I don’t want to have to separate the two of you, but I will.”
Eddie straightened and muttered something Clay couldn’t hear.
“I’ve spoken with Chief Barns,” Mayor Marsha continued. “She’s going to make sure the evening patrols get down there more regularly. That should help.”
“They have to do the wild thing somewhere,” Gladys announced. “Give ’em a break.”
Clay felt his mouth twitching as he tried not to smile. He’d always assumed watching government at work would be boring, but he was wrong. This was fun.
“Call me old-fashioned,” Marsha told her, “but I would prefer to make things a little more difficult for them.”
“Winter will help,” another council member said. “As soon as it gets cold, they won’t be able to stay in their cars for too long.”
“Lucky us,” the mayor murmured.
“Play music.” Eddie shrugged. “I read online somewhere that teenagers can be driven off by playing certain kinds of music. The library has an outside sound system. We could turn on the speakers at the back of the building and use them to play music kids can’t stand.”
“Disco, perhaps?” Mayor Marsha said with a slight smile.
There was more discussion about the kind of music that turned off teenagers. Eddie volunteered to find the article and report back directly to the mayor.
Mayor Marsha glanced back at her sheet. “Under old business, we still have the issue of Ford Hendrix.” She stared at them over her glasses. “I don’t have to remind you that this is a sensitive topic, not to be discussed outside of this room.”
Gladys shook her finger at Clay. “That goes double for you.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The name was familiar. There had been several Hendrix brothers back when he’d been a kid, he thought. Sisters, too, but when he’d been five or six, girls had been less interesting to him.
“Ford has been gone nearly a decade,” the mayor continued. “From what I’ve learned, his latest tour of duty ends next year. It’s time for him to come home.”
“I’m not sure we should get involved in this,” one of the younger women said. “Isn’t Ford’s decision to reenlist or not up to him and maybe his family?”
Eddie sniffed. “You young people spend a lot of time with your heads up your asses, if you ask me.”
Mayor Marsha’s expression turned pained. “I don’t believe anyone did ask you.” She turned to the younger woman. “Charity, you’re right. It’s not our place to meddle. Normally I wouldn’t, but Ford needs to come back to where people love him. Being in Special Forces takes a toll on a man. He needs to heal. And Fool’s Gold is the best place for that.”
There was a brief discussion on how to get the mysterious Ford back in the fold, so to speak. At the end of that conversation, the mayor invited Clay to make his presentation.
“Good morning,” he said as he walked to the front of the room. “Thanks for inviting me to speak.”
“We enjoy looking at an attractive man,” Eddie told him with a grin. “We’re shallow that way.”
The mayor sighed, but Gladys gave her a high five. Those two must have been hell on wheels when they were younger, he thought.
He passed out the printed version of his business plan and then connected his laptop to the cord for the screen.
He clicked on the first slide and began to talk about Haycations. He showed pictures of the land he’d bought, a diagram of what would be planted where and a few stock photos of people driving tractors for general interest. He outlined the number of families he hoped to attract, extrapolating about how much they would bring to the local economy. He had a rough idea of what kind of advertising he would do, along with about how many local people he would be employing.
Twenty minutes later, he finished with a request for the three small zoning permits.
“Impressive,” Mayor Marsha told him. She smiled warmly. “We all appreciate how you’ve taken the town’s needs into account as you’ve written your business plan. I believe there are several local business owners who would like to hear about this. They might have some helpful ideas for you.”
“That would be great.”
“You’ll be settling here permanently?” she asked, her blue gaze steady.
“That’s the plan.”
“We’re not exactly New York.”
Something Charlie had mentioned. “I’m ready for a change.”
“You know,” Gladys said, her wrinkled face bright with amusement, “if you really want to help the town, I know a way.”
“Don’t,” Mayor Marsha said, her tone warning.
Gladys ignored her. “You could loan your butt to a campaign we’re planning.”
“Stop it right now,” the mayor said forcefully. “That’s not what we’re here to talk about.”
“He’s got a famous butt. I’ve seen it in the movies. We all have. Work with your strengths, I say.”
Clay was used to faking any expression a client wanted. It was why he’d become so successful. Now he made sure he looked amused rather than angry and uncomfortable.
Gladys slapped a tabloid magazine on the table. The headline was clearly visible. Famous Model Insures Butt for Five Million Dollars.
“Why waste money on something like a Haycation when you only have to flash the real deal to make a mint?” she asked.
The mayor winced. “Clay, I’m so sorry. There was some discussion about asking you to be in our campaign.” She glared at Gladys. “We were going to use your face, however.”
“A waste of resources if you ask me,” Gladys mumbled. “Everybody would rather see his ass.”
