Page 61 of Crushing Clover

Even though I’d washed off the worst of the grime, I still felt dirty. Maybe what the guys had done to me in the shower was to blame.

As I stood, waiting for the barista to call my name, I could feel the tips of my ears getting hot. Could people with normal lives tell what three hot men had been doing to me forty-five minutes ago?

They wanted me to go to therapy, but for now, knowing they loved me was all the therapy I wanted.

Between deciding where we were going next, selling the house, and packing everything up, I hadn't had a chance to dwell on things.

There would be time for a real therapist after we reached the East Coast and the guys got the food truck up and running.

When it came to having sex with them in the aftermath, they hadn’t pressured me at all, but I hadn’t been able to resist them for long—and as soon as the doctors had given me the all-clear, every condom left in the house had gone in the trash.

“Clover?” the barista called.

I stepped forward, but he only shoved one coffee cup at me.

“Sorry, but I ordered three black coffee and a hot tea.”

He looked up at me and frowned. “Miss, you ordered one chai latte.”

“Chai latte?” a woman said from a few feet away. “I ordered a large.”

The barista looked from me to her and back again.

“Uh—sorry.”

The woman and I glanced at each other and exchanged polite smiles.

When my brain registered her face, I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

The floor beneath my feet started to sway, and I put a hand on the counter to steady myself.

It was like looking at an uncanny valley version of me, and my psyche was trying hard to reject what I was seeing.

“Arabella?” a second barista called.

She turned away and shook her head at the second barista, who was trying to give her a tray of drinks.

“No, I only ordered a chai latte,” she said. “I think you got our orders confused.”

“Wow! Can you blame me?” The first barista gestured at me, and the other woman turned to look. This time she seemed to really see me.

Her brows rose. “I thought it was because we were both redheads, but…”

“Yeah.” My chest tightened. The guys were doing a last check of the tie-downs on the trailer, but if I took too long, they might come looking for me. Part of me wanted to rush her out the door, but another part of me wanted to do an in-depth interview.

“Um…” She shook her head and blinked a few times, like she might wake up. “Hi, I’m Arabella.” She held out a hand, and I shook it.

“I know.” I gave her a pained smile.

“Pardon?”

I heard the guys come in before I saw them. Lucky was laughing about something while Saint was telling him to shut up.

They came up behind me and Saint slung an arm around my shoulders, like it was the most natural thing in the world. He’d done the same thing a few days ago, but it had felt rehearsed. This time, it felt real.

“You took so long, we decided to send in a search party.”

I desperately wanted to say something clever in front of this woman, but my tongue felt like it had been coated in rapid-dry concrete.

The three of them fell silent as they saw her, and she saw them.

“Oh,” she said, taking a sip of her latte as if it were a shield. “Hi.”

We stood there in awkward silence for a few moments before Lucky jumped forward and pulled Arabella into a fierce hug that made her latte dribble on his back.

He kissed her cheek, and my heart broke for him, and a little for me, too.

He’d been so in love with her. She let herself melt into the embrace.

Jealousy licked at my insides, making them feel like water, but I couldn’t blame her.

“It’s good to see you,” he said honestly, squeezing her even tighter before letting her go. “How are you?”

I glanced over at Rush, who was looking thoughtful, but not angry. Saint, of course, looked sullen.

Arabella turned to me. “The resemblance really is uncanny.”

Saint scoffed loudly. “You don’t look anything alike.”

“Oh, come on,” Arabella protested. “I was so shocked when I saw her that I thought I might faint.”

“Look at the shade of your eyes and hair, and the way Clover tilts her head when she’s considering something. You don’t dress the same, and you definitely don’t have the same personality.”

“Yeah,” Rush agreed. “Nothing alike. No offense, Arabella, but why are you even here?”

She raised her coffee cup at him. “I know you guys like this place, but what were the chances of running into you here so early? I assumed you’d still be asleep. Besides, it’s been long enough that I didn’t think you’d care anymore.”

“We don’t,” Rush assured her rudely.

“This is fucked up.” Saint ran an aggravated hand through his hair.

I sighed. “Can you two be polite for two fucking seconds?”

“Sorry,” Rush grumbled. “We’re headed for the East Coast. I think moving Lucky’s dresser killed my back.”

She hazarded a smile. “Wow. You’re moving? What about Cygnet?”

Saint shrugged. “We sold it.”

Her mouth opened in shock, and she seemed to be searching for something to say.

“How’s the restaurant? Rik? The kid?” Lucky asked.

“Why don’t you join us for coffee?” I blurted.

Arabella’s eyes crinkled with warmth, and she flashed me a smile. “Thanks. I’d like that.”

Saint sputtered. “We need to get on the road.”

“Twenty minutes won’t kill you.” I stood my ground as he glared at me. Fuck, if they could get some closure about this woman, it would be a good day, even if we sat here for hours.

“It might kill one of us,” he grumbled. Despite his dire words, he took the tray of coffee from me and led the way to a four-person booth.

Rush borrowed a chair from one of the center tables, placing it at the end of the booth.

Arabella settled into the added chair as though it might blow her ass to smithereens, but considering how the guys were staring at her, I didn’t blame her.

For a moment, I felt bad, as though I had shoved the poor woman in front of a firing squad. I should have known better than to expect them to make more small talk.

“I always wondered why,” Lucky admitted. “Things seemed good and then all of a sudden you were gone.”

Arabella smiled sadly. “Leaving the three of you was one of the hardest decisions I’ve made.” Her eyes drifted from him over to Rush and Saint.

“Then why?” Saint asked gruffly.

She shook her head. “I told you why.”

“Because you wanted the restaurant to have a different vibe.”

She huffed a laugh. “I hope you listen to her better than you did to me, or you’re going to lose her, too.”

All three of the men looked from her to me and back again.

“Saint, you’re shitty at aftercare. I could handle you being a dick and always wanting to get your way, but leaving all of the aftercare to Rush and Lucky wasn’t fair to them or to me. I understand it’s hard for you because of the kind of family you came from, but I needed more than that.”

He didn’t say anything, not even attempting to defend himself. At least he was that self-aware.

“And then there’s the rest of it. I wanted a wedding. I wanted babies.”

“I told you we could discuss it,” Saint said a little heatedly, then grimaced at himself. “None of that matters anymore anyway. You got it from someone else.”

“You wouldn’t even have the conversation. All I kept thinking was, ‘what if that conversation gets deferred forever?’”

“I told you we’d give you kids if that’s what you wanted.”

“But none of you wanted to be a stay-at-home parent. If I was going to get my restaurant off the ground, I needed someone willing to fill that role.”

“You could have stayed home.”

“I have too many other goals to stay home. Remember?”

“Lucky could have stayed home.”

“Lucky didn’t want to. Just because he’s the nicer one, and you boss him around, it doesn’t mean that’s what he wants out of life.” She shrugged. “Our priorities didn’t line up. It doesn’t mean I didn’t love you. I needed to move on with someone whose priorities aligned with my own.”

Lucky and Rush were nodding.

Saint crossed his arms and shrugged irritably. “Okay, fine. So what? I’m glad to know you’re happy now.”

“Thank you.”

Saint turned back to me, frowning. “Why did you want us to have coffee together? Aren’t you supposed to feel threatened by her or something?”

“I can handle some temporary discomfort if it means the three of you get some closure.”

“I don’t understand why you always have to meddle,” Saint grumbled.

“It’s because she loves you, dork.” Arabella sighed.

Saint glared at me suspiciously. “Did you two organize this little ‘accidental’ meet-up?”

“No,” Arabella assured him, “but it was probably good for all of us. I was dreading bumping into you.” She got to her feet.

“Anyway, Rik is trying to get to the gym, so I’m off to take the kids to the park—we have two now, by the way.

If you ever want to chat, unblock me, you cowards.

” She gave all of us a cheeky smile. “And don’t take her for granted. ”

I rose, too. “Thank you.”

She drew me into a firm hug, surprising me. “You take care of these three. They’re a little rough around the edges, but they deserve to be happy. Make sure they don’t steamroll you.” She winked at me.

Saint heaved a sigh. “I’m sorry I was such a dick when we were together and that I made the break-up so toxic.”

“I’m sorry I called you a spoiled man-child.”

“Well, you weren’t wrong.”

“No, but it was mean.”

He shrugged. “I’ve only gotten worse.”

“Well then, I’m even more glad you’re not my problem anymore.”

They both laughed.

He nodded to me. “I’ll unblock you if Clove is comfortable with that.”

I wasn’t sure if he was blowing her off nicely, or if he really planned to talk to me about it later, but hearing him say he cared about what I thought made me smile.

As soon as she was gone, we grabbed our coffees and headed out, too.

I settled into the backseat of Saint's truck and Lucky grabbed me and kissed me. “Are you ready to start your new life with three homeless surfers who run a food truck?”

“I’m so fucking excited.” It was nothing but the unvarnished truth. They even planned to teach me how to cook.

Thank goodness they'd shipped the food truck ahead of us with most of our belongings. That thing was slow and took corners only when forced. Selling two of the pickup trucks had been sad, but we needed the money.

Rush was watching us in the rearview mirror.

“You can play with her, Luck, but don’t get her off.” Saint’s chuckle as we rolled out of the parking lot was positively evil.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Didn’t Arabella tell you guys to be nice to me?” I grumbled.

“Nice is a relative term.” Rush grinned. “She doesn’t know what you like the way we do.”

If I could get off before Lucky realized I was going to, they’d pull the truck over and punish him for it.

Hot.

I had all sorts of games in mind for this trip, and it was going to be a long fucking drive.