All Summer Long. Susan Mallery

      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