Page 47 of Crushing Clover

The restaurant we were trying out was new, and had great reviews. I’d worn my prettiest dress, and had fussed with my hair.

We were seated promptly for our reservation, which was a mark in their favor.

The place was packed, even though the ambience wasn’t as nice as Cygnet’s.

As far as I was concerned, the mural that had been painted on the longest wall made the space feel too busy.

The servers weren’t as good either, but maybe loyalty was clouding my judgement.

“I still don’t understand why we had to come with you,” Lucky grumbled.

“Trusting the two of you alone together for twenty-four hours seemed like a bad idea,” Saint said, scanning the classy menu.

“We’re not teenagers. We’re not going to throw a party.”

Saint lifted a brow. “You’re soft on her. You’d either help her run off, or you’d drag her to the courthouse and marry her ass.”

I’m not sure which of us blushed more, but the look on Lucky’s face made me warm all over.

He hadn’t denied it.

Even after all my years with Noah, I hadn’t been able to joke with him about getting married one day.

He always got pissy about it, and said getting married was for rich people.

He wasn’t wrong, but seeing the flush on Lucky’s face made me realize that was the reaction any woman would hope to see—excitement and pleasure, rather than irritation.

“Your crush on our little captive is officially out of control.”

“It’s not like we could do that anyway.” Lucky glanced at me then quickly looked away. “She doesn’t have any ID.”

“Wow, this isn’t a new idea for you.” Rush didn’t look upset, which was good. They loved each other so much. I’d hate to get in the way of that.

Lucky’s blush traveled further up his face until it reached his hairline.

“There was a time you’d be the first one in the truck to go to a new restaurant,” Rush said.

“I’m just tired,” Lucky admitted. “Work’s been busy.”

Lucky grabbed Rush’s hand under the table, and they shared a look that made Saint quietly gag. It was a polite gag, since we were sitting in a packed, trendy restaurant, and we were all dressed up.

It almost felt like a four-way date.

The server returned as soon as Saint had put aside his menu, and we ordered, even though I’d almost fainted when I’d seen how much everything cost. Then again, Cygnet’s prices were steep, too.

I’d half expected Saint to act like an asshole, but he was unfailingly polite. He didn’t even complain when I ordered something that sounded suspiciously like chicken fingers.

“So, how did the three of you end up together?” I’d wondered since I’d met them, but this was the first time it felt like we might be something approaching friends. Well, friendlier…

“We met in high school,” Rush said. “We surfed, played video games, drank. Saint and I hooked up once when we were drunk, then we didn’t stop. We kept it a secret. The problem was, we both liked to be in charge, and we were both tops.”

“That’s how I got dragged into things,” Lucky said.

“Dragged? Rush hinted he might be interested, and you practically jumped in his lap.”

“Anyway, I was only supposed to be a piece of ass, but I was willing and convenient.”

“And the most adorable fucking twink.”

Saint rolled his eyes. “They went from making fuck-me eyes at each other, to big cow eyes. It was disturbing, to be honest.”

“You were jealous,” Rush shot back at him.

“Of you getting a piece of Slutty McSlutterson? Hardly.”

Rush flicked Saint’s ear, and Saint covered it with a protective hand. “And you didn’t complain about him being a slut when you started joining in sometimes.”

“Why would I?”

“Saint started seeing Arabella when we were in culinary school,” Lucky said, looking amused. “Then we were all hanging out every weekend. We... I don’t know. It just happened.”

“She wanted to watch,” Saint said, surprising me.

I’d expected him to shut down the conversation entirely once Arabella came up.

“She wanted to spy on you two, so I asked Rush, and he agreed.” He shrugged.

“The next time she wanted to watch, we ended up fucking in the same bed. Things deteriorated after that.”

“Then we went to your father’s cottage that one week,” Rush added. “That sealed the deal.”

“Then, two years later, she ghosted us.”

“She had aspirations that didn’t include three boyfriends and a food truck.”

Rush snorted. “Look at her now. Husband, baby, successful restaurant. She didn’t need us.”

The discussion soured the mood, of course, and I wanted to kick myself for ruining things.

I’d suspected they were angry because they’d considered her a possession, and she’d left, but the quality of the silence made me realize it was a different feeling altogether. They’d all loved her.

And she’d chosen to leave them.

I couldn’t imagine being in such an interesting, dynamic relationship and choosing to leave. For what?

“Maybe she wanted a regular life, and that was never going to happen with three boyfriends.” The words were out before I could reconsider them. I hadn’t meant to share the thought.

“Maybe,” Saint conceded.

“Or maybe you were such an asshole to her that she ran away,” Lucky mumbled under his breath.

He glared at me, as though I’d been the one to say it. “I wasn’t always like this.”

“No offense,” I teased, “but I have a hard time believing that.”

“Believe what you want.”

Rush took a sip of his beer. “It’s true. He’s never been a ray of sunshine, but he didn’t used to be this bad.”

“That’s not something you can blame your ex for,” I said, wondering why I was playing devil’s advocate. Maybe it felt like I had to be the representative of my gender. “Or maybe she felt outnumbered.”

“She was cheating on us,” Saint grumbled.

“We don’t know that.”

“She got married less than a year after she left us.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

Saint shrugged. “I know it’s the truth.”

I rolled my eyes. “Have any of you tried to talk to her about it?”

“I did,” Lucky admitted. “I tracked her down and tried.”

“You brought her flowers and groveled. Played loud music outside her window until she called the cops.”

“So, you threw a tantrum.”

Saint laughed, surprising the hell out of me. “He made an ass of himself.”

“I wasn’t thinking straight. At least I didn’t slash her tires or key her new boyfriend’s car.”

“Classic,” Rush said, smirking. He fist-bumped Saint, and I rolled my eyes again.

“The three of you acted like completely unhinged children.”

Saint put a finger on my lips. “That’s enough personal shit for now. We’re here in a professional capacity.”

That was it? He wasn’t going to threaten to murder me or something?

“Don’t worry, girl,” he said even more quietly than we’d been talking. “We’ll punish you later for that little comment.”

“What? It was a casual observation.” I smoothed the skirt of my dress.

Saint glanced at my lips, then met my gaze. “No, it was a cry for negative attention. When you don’t get punished in a while, you start acting up until you get in trouble. Did you think we wouldn’t notice?”

I snorted. No, I didn’t…did I? “You’re delusional.”

“You’re the brattiest girl I’ve ever met.” He hooked a finger under the lace collar Rush had put on me in place of the leather or metal ones I usually wore. Gently, he pulled me closer, putting his mouth to my ear. “And don’t even think of trying to ask anyone for help while we’re here.”

“Help?” I asked. “I’m not going anywhere until you get rid of me.”

He pulled back and stared into my eyes, as though he were trying to gauge whether I was lying.

The server came with our appetizers, and he let me go with a reluctance that made me warm all over. It probably looked very intimate. Hell, it had felt intimate to me even though he’d been issuing a vague threat.

As she served, I didn’t miss the way her pretty brown eyes lingered on the guys. She was beautiful, good at her job, and subtly trying to figure out which of them were single. I wanted to shoo her away from them, but they weren’t mine to be jealous about.

The appetizers were good, even if I couldn’t identify them all.

Lucky had an opinion about their use of tarragon in something, but I could barely follow what they were saying.

The entrees arrived not long after, and soon we were up to our elbows in plates, since they’d each ordered two.

They shared everything, passing dishes back and forth, and I watched the effortless dance of it with enjoyment.

“Their salmon is better than ours,” Rush said, holding the plate out to Saint as Lucky nodded in agreement.

Saint took a bite of it and grunted. I’d expected him to be annoyed, but he looked pleased. He took another bite before Rush put the plate down. “We can do better.”

I worked on eating my very good not-called-chicken-fingers, and even tried the asparagus, even though I usually hated it.

“Does the girl like their food better than ours?” Saint asked Rush, offended, as though I couldn’t answer for myself.

“She ordered what she wanted,” Lucky pointed out. “At home, she doesn’t get a choice.”

“How did I not notice what she ordered?” Saint asked. “Who orders chicken nuggets at a restaurant of this caliber?”

“They’re not nuggets, and apparently enough people order them that they’ve kept them on the menu,” I pointed out. “They’re delicious. Not every meal needs to be fancy.” I nudged my plate toward him. “Try one.”

Lucky took me up on my offer.

“How adorable,” Saint said, his tone cutting. “She wants to share her chickie nuggies.”

Ignoring Saint’s snobbishness, Rush speared one with his fork and took a bite. He frowned, nodding. “They’re good. Tasty, but not trying to show off by getting fancy with the seasoning.”

“Maybe we should have a few options like this on our menu,” Lucky hazarded.

I gestured at my plate. “Some people don’t enjoy complicated spices or goat cheese, and you don’t have much on the menu for them.”