All Summer Long (Fool's Gold #9)

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?”