Page 25 of Crushing Clover

It wasn’t quite dawn yet, although the sky was a clear, dull blue. Usually, we’d still be asleep at this hour, but Lucky wanted to surf, and he’d convinced the other two to join him.

They’d refused to leave me at home, unfortunately. As much as a day at the beach sounded fun, so did sleeping in.

“Uh-oh. The sign says no dogs on the beach,” Saint said, flicking the bell on my collar as I got out of the truck.

“Is that a ‘Saint owns me’ joke, or a ‘you’re ugly’ joke?” I asked flatly.

“Either? Both?”

I rolled my eyes. “If you don’t tell me, how am I supposed to decide how offended to be?”

“Full offense meant.”

“I appreciate the clarification.”

“For fuck’s sake, will you two stop for five minutes?” Lucky admonished. “We’re here to relax, not listen to the two of you snipe at each other.”

“Sorry, Luckface,” Saint said with saccharine sweetness, punching Lucky’s shoulder hard as he passed him.

“Sorry, Lucky.” I kissed his shoulder and fell into step with him, carrying the blankets we would be laying out. I was wearing one of my new bathing suits, but considering how cold I’d been at the beach with Rush, I was wearing his hoodie (which I still hadn’t returned) and a pair of sweatpants.

Unloading took a few trips, but in no time, they were in their wetsuits.

Lucky ran to the water with his board, like a merman who’d been separated too long from his first love.

The other two were talking and laughing about something I couldn’t hear.

Was this what they’d been like as teenagers?

The stress of running the restaurant must weigh on them, even though they loved it.

Saint left Rush to stride my way, putting on a special glare, just for me.

“Don’t even think of running off. I have a piece in my wetsuit, and I won’t hesitate to pick you off from out there.”

“Yes, Saint.” I didn’t bother studying the wetsuit for the telltale bulge of a gun. The only bulge in that wetsuit was muscle and cock. Even if he was carrying, what were the chances he could hit me from a moving surfboard so far away?

I did my best to look worried and cowed.

“Stay put and things won’t have to get ugly.” He turned and strode away as quickly as he’d come.

Moments later, he and Rush were paddling out into water that was still too dark for my liking.

On the horizon, large ships loomed like far away fortress walls.

I settled in to watch as the sky turned various colors of pastel, making me wish I’d chosen painting as my new hobby, rather than crochet. Unfortunately, I’d never had the time, money, or inherent skill to pursue art past what we’d done in school.

Other surfers were already in the water, and the waves looked too big for my comfort. I couldn’t imagine choosing to get into those dark waters, even though it was beautiful. Here and there, a few people strolled along the shore, looking picturesque against the morning sea and sky.

Lucky was a natural on his board, as though it was a part of him that he had to surgically remove when he came to land. Rush and Saint weren’t too shabby themselves, although I knew absolutely nothing about surfing.

When they got tired, I thought they would come out and sit with me, but they only sat on their boards, bobbing in the sun like otters on logs.

Although it was windy, eventually the sun warmed the air enough for me to strip off my hoodie and sweatpants to get some sun—but only whatever could get through the SPF 50 I’d slathered on. With my skin tone, I tended to burn rather than tan.

If anyone had told me I’d be hanging out on a beach after being sold at an auction, I never would have believed them. This was hardly the hell Annika had warned me about. Sure, the three of them liked to get rough, but it was hot when I wasn’t suffering too much.

“Hey,” someone said, rousing me from the nap I hadn’t known I’d started.

I opened my eyes to find a guy with a friendly face hovering at a respectful distance. He was in his early twenties, with brown hair shot through with gold.

My smile was awkward as I sat up. I felt all too naked and exposed. Saint had warned me not to talk to people, so I didn’t say anything. If he saw me talking to a stranger, he would lose his shit.

“Cool place, huh?”

I nodded, but couldn’t help but glance at the water, worried about breaking the rules. Would talking to a guy be a shootable offense?

“I’m Lance.”

I smiled politely.

“Why aren’t you in the water?”

That was a question I couldn’t answer with a nod or smile. Dammit.

“Sharks,” I said simply.

“Sharks?” He laughed, flashing straight white teeth. Sure, he had a pretty smile, but he was nothing compared to my guys.

My guys?

“You don’t like sharks?” he persisted, not taking the hint.

This was ridiculous. I couldn’t just ignore him. Every time I’d ignored a man trying to hit on me, they’d gotten hostile. Maybe Saint would punish me again, but I’d rather get punished than murdered.

“I like sharks just fine. I just don’t want to visit their house, you know?”

“If you leave them alone, they pretty much leave you alone.”

I pressed my lips together and shrugged.

“I haven’t seen you here before.”

I shook my head

Oh please, why wouldn’t this guy buy a clue and fuck off? I didn’t want to be rude and tell him to go away, but I also didn’t want trouble.

His brows rose. “You’re too pretty to be shy, so what is it? You’re not into guys?”

I gave him a helpless shrug. When I shifted, the bell on my collar jingled. His eyes fastened on it, and he reached a hand toward me. I jerked back, eyes wide, but he only flicked the bell.

“Cute.”

I stared at him, not sure what to do.

“I’m guessing one of those guys is your boyfriend,” he said. “So, which one is it?”

Boyfriend?

Pointing out one of the guys might get him to leave me alone, but which one did I claim as mine? Lucky seemed like the easiest answer, but then either of the other two might come over and stake a claim now that this guy was hovering around.

“Why do you need to know who my boyfriend is?”

“I’m wondering who I’m in competition with.” He gave me a dazzling grin. “I’ve always had a thing for redheads.”

“Get away from her,” growled someone with a dark voice.

I whipped my head around to find Saint standing a few feet away, water streaming down his wetsuit, his damp hair shoved back. From the rise and fall of this chest either he was pissed, or he swam like hell to get back here. Possibly both.

“Chill out. We’re just talking.”

Shit.

“She’s ours.” He said it with such vehemence my heart fluttered. Then again, he probably meant it more literally, as in they owned me, not that they were attached to me as a person.

“Three boyfriends? Now I know why I couldn’t get you to say much,” he said, winking at me before walking back to his friends.

“How many times do I have to fucking tell you, girl? No talking to strangers.” His muscles were tense, even though he was doing his best to look relaxed.

“I was asleep in the sun, and he started talking to me. I didn’t even know he was headed this way.”

“What did you say?”

“He was asking me why I wasn’t in the water, and I told him I was afraid of sharks. I wouldn’t tell him my name. Then he asked me which of you were my boyfriend, and I wouldn’t tell him that either.”

He narrowed dark eyes at me. “That’s it?”

“What on earth do you think I’m going to tell a complete stranger at the beach?” I demanded in a whisper. “I don’t want you to get rid of me.”

“Why did he touch you?” he demanded tightly.

“He noticed my collar, and he flicked the bell. He didn’t touch me.”

Saint hauled me up. “Grab your shit.”

He stripped off his wetsuit.

“We were supposed to stay for the day,” I reminded him.

“Guys keep looking at you, and now one of them is sniffing around even though they have to know you’re unavailable. You’re wearing a collar, for fuck’s sake.”

He stalked back down the beach and talked to Rush, who’d come to shore. Saint gestured at the guy who’d talked to me, and when I glanced that way, he was still checking me out. Rush gave a curt nod and headed back out to Lucky.

“I’m not about to run off with some random guy,” I promised him.

“Couldn’t Lucky find you bathing suits that don’t show so much skin? You’re attracting too much attention.”

I sputtered in disbelief. “This is a standard bathing suit, Saint. It’s modest, compared to what I see other women wearing.”

“He could have bought you a swim shirt and board shorts. Don’t they sell modesty swimwear?”

“Why would I get that? I’m not religious.”

He grabbed his T-shirt. “Maybe not, but you’d better pray I don’t find that guy’s phone number written on you anywhere.” He seized my wrist and dragged me toward the truck, leaving all of his shit behind.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this. Nothing happened. You don’t need to freak out and ruin Lucky’s day.”

“Lucky and Rush are staying here. Your ass is coming home with me.”

“Well, can the rest of me stay? Please, Saint? It’s so pretty here.”

He stopped and glared at me. “If we stay, one of us is going to sit with you the whole time.”

“Okay.”

He shook the sand out of his T-shirt and jammed it over my head.

“Do I have to wear your T-shirt?”

“You’re getting sunburnt,” he muttered.

We walked back to our stuff, where I reclaimed my seat.

I definitely wasn’t getting sunburned yet, but I got the message that he wanted the shirt to stay on.

It smelled like him—like a combination of the products he used.

If I was alone, I probably would have sniffed it, but I wouldn’t give the jerk the satisfaction.

He sat next to me on the blanket, almost in my lap, even though there was plenty of room.

“You’re being weird.”

“You’re a surfer’s wet fucking dream. I don’t know what we were thinking, bringing you here.”

I wrapped my fingers around my bell, and bit my lips together, knowing better than to laugh.