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
