Page 48 of Crushing Clover
“Complicated spices. You think fucking ketchup is complicated.” Grudgingly, Saint took the other half of the one Lucky was eating right off his fork and put it in his own mouth.
“Maybe you have a point,” Saint said thoughtfully. “They’re fine, I guess.”
“I’m not the only one in my family who doesn’t have a refined palate. My sister is the same way.”
“You have a sister?” Rush asked.
“Yes. I have an older sister named Violet.”
“And your parents?”
Hadn’t Lucky told them this? I glanced at him, but he shrugged. “Your history isn’t mine to tell.”
“The short version is that my sister and I got separated when we were really young and went into foster care. We were taken away from our dad because he’d leave us alone when he went to work. Mom took off not long after I was born.”
“Welcome to the fucked-up family club,” Rush said, as Saint stole another of my chicken strips because he thought I wasn’t paying attention. “Lucky’s the only one who was raised by his parents.”
“I met his mom. She seems nice.”
Saint snorted. “If you don’t mind family dinners and matching Christmas pajamas.”
“If you don’t like having Christmas with my family, you can always stay home,” Lucky said slyly.
“It’s not like we have anything else to do on December twenty-fifth,” he said magnanimously.
“Quit trying to act so blasé,” Rush said, jabbing him in the leg with his fork.
“Ow!”
“I barely touched you.”
“It’s going to leave a bruise.”
“Admit it—you love Lucky’s parents, and you’re a slut for Christmas. Your Grinch act isn’t fooling anyone except possibly Clover.”
“Christmas with Lucky’s family is slightly less horrible than Christmas tends to be,” he conceded.
“With an attitude like that, I’m going to raid your Christmas stocking.”
“You keep your filthy paws off my chocolate orange.”
As they bickered, the server came back, and Lucky asked for the check.
They were still in high spirits as we strolled out into the evening.
The sidewalks were still warm through the soles of my sandals, and my dress swished around my thighs.
I smiled to myself as the guys passionately debated seasonings for the hypothetical chicken fingers they might add to the menu over Saint’s dead body.
There was a lightness in me that felt dangerous.
Happiness wasn’t a feeling to be trusted.
Maybe I’d let myself enjoy it for an hour or two.
It was hard to imagine the three of them wearing matching pajamas at Lucky’s parents’ house at Christmas.
Unfortunately, I doubted I’d be around to see it.
Who knew where I’d be by then? Christmas and birthdays had never meant much to me, but occasionally I found myself wishing I was important enough for someone to make a bit of a fuss.
“Why is the bootlicker so quiet?” Saint demanded.
“Probably because we’re ignoring her.”
Lucky appeared beside me and threaded my arm through his. Rush did the same on the other side.
“I apologize,” Rush said. “Were you feeling ignored?”
“No, I was enjoying the conversation.”
“Did you even understand the conversation?” the pompous ass said from behind me.
“Sorry—I was enjoying the tone of the conversation. Is that better?”
A big hand closed over my nape. “Such a mouth on this girl.”
A couple was approaching us on the sidewalk, and the woman made concerned eye contact with me, as though she was wondering if I needed help. I grinned at her, and she smiled back uneasily, like she wouldn’t trade places with me for a million dollars.
“You like my mouth?” I asked Saint innocently.
“Let’s take a walk on the beach,” Saint said, not-so-innocently.
At his statement, Rush and Lucky locked my arms in theirs with their opposite hands, and the easy way they restrained me made it obvious this had been the plan all along. So much for them being fun and maybe a little romantic. I didn’t try to tug my arms free, and their holds relaxed somewhat.
Uneasily, I let them guide me in the direction of the beach, which was only a street away.
“We’re going to get sand in our shoes,” I pointed out.
“Your shoes are going to be the least of your concern.”
Memories of what the men had done to me at the resort I’d worked at flooded in, but it had been the middle of the day, and the men had been strangers.
This was different. I trusted these men.
Wow, I really trusted them?
The realization came as a shock.
“But we just ate a big meal!” I complained. “If you jostle me too much, I’ll puke.”
“Good. Both gagging and puking shows your commitment to giving us a good time,” Rush said.
The sand, when we reached it, was still warm from the day’s sun.
It shifted underfoot, making walking difficult with the three of us linked together.
The wind whipped my skirt around and threatened to Marilyn Monroe at any moment, but I didn’t have a free hand to hold it down.
Seagulls called in the windblown distance, their voices haunting.
Despite the gathering dark, it was possible to see the beach had mostly emptied of people, but in a few minutes, we wouldn’t be able to see a thing.
“We’re going to play a little game.” Saint moved to stand in front of us. He leaned down into my face as though he were having a serious talk with his dog. It was hard to tell if it was condescension or the effort to be heard above the crash of waves and whipping wind that brought him so close.
“Am I going to like this game?” I asked skeptically.
“We’re going to let you go, and whoever catches you gets first dibs.”
Lucky groaned. “Running? That sounds like a lot of work on a full stomach.”
“Go sit in the truck if you don’t want to play.” Rush sounded amused. “More Clover for us.”
“Can I go sit in the truck?” I asked.
“No,” Rush and Saint said simultaneously.
“And there’s no home base? There’s no way for me to win?”
“Aww,” Saint mocked, grabbing my face and turning it up to look at him in the growing gloom. “Has getting dicked-down already lost its thrill for you?”
I tried to shake his hand off my face, but he clutched it harder, digging his fingers and thumb in to hold me still.
Saint sighed and let go. “Fine. I guess, for the sake of fairness, if you get back to the truck and touch it before we catch you, you win.”
“Do you remember your safeword?” Rush asked, letting go of my arm. Lucky dropped my other arm.
“Yes, sir.”
I couldn’t believe Saint was going to let me out of their sight in a place where I could easily disappear.
I couldn’t believe the three of them were going to chase me down.
Adrenaline-charged arousal rose in me. Running from men on the island had been terrifying, but this? It would probably be rough, but they were slowly convincing me that I liked it rough, but only with them. My main concern was getting charged with public indecency.
“What if the cops catch us?” I asked, anxious.
“You’re so beautiful, they’ll probably watch, then let us off with a warning.” Saint’s unfriendly smile flashed in the dark.
He thought I was beautiful? Thank god my red face would be impossible to see in this light.
“Being beautiful isn’t going to save you from us, Clover. Mercy isn’t in my nature.”
“If mercy was in your nature, this game wouldn’t be much fun,” I said without thinking.
All three of them let out low chuckles.
“Boys, I think she’s flirting with us,” Saint said, sounding genuinely surprised.
“I think she likes us,” Lucky observed.
Rush snorted. “We’ll see if she still likes us by the time we’re through with her.”
I shivered with anticipation-laced dread. My muscles bunched, ready for Saint to start the game.
“Hard to believe you were going to be a doctor,” Saint mocked. “Now you’re nothing more than a few pretty holes to keep us entertained.”
“Only if you can catch me,” I shot back. “Besides, my main goal in becoming a doctor was so I could stop worrying about money. Now, that’s your problem, not mine.”
“You focus on keeping that pussy wet for us. No need to think anymore.”
He was trying to rile me up, but I gave him a sweet smile. “Yes, Saint.”
This game meant I could fight back, and having the opportunity of ‘accidentally’ giving Saint a black eye or kneeing him in the balls sounded like fun.
“Do I get a head start?”
“A small one, and you’re wasting it.”
“Shit!” I shook off my sandals and raced into the dark.