Chapter Twenty-Four
Dustin handed Clover a paper plate and motioned for her to go through the line first. He masked his worry over her with a smile. He had no idea she had some sort of social anxiety, but the truth was written right there on her white cheeks when she almost passed out. Leaving was an easy option if it would make her feel better. He was DVRing the derby anyway, and the idea of watching it on his couch with Clover tucked into his side wasn’t a bad one.
She’d rallied well, and the color had come back into her cheeks. He would be lying if he said holding her face in his hands hadn’t affected him. Thoughts of kissing her pummeled him at regular intervals like a pitching machine set on high speed. He was still thinking about her mouth as they loaded their plates. All the while, he did his best to maintain some form of physical contact, even if it was just their hips touching as they loaded up on fresh watermelon balls.
He snagged two cans of iced lemonade and nodded to a blanket in the corner. The red blankets with the team logo on them were a nice touch. Clover stayed close, and they leaned shoulder to shoulder as they ate.
They weren’t sitting there long when Brayden and Tilly joined them. They were holding hands and carrying plates. “There’s Brayden.” He nodded their direction.
She squinted into the setting sun. “He’s the one who lives by you, right?”
“Right.” He took a swig of lemonade. “He’s probably the nicest guy on the team. But don’t tell him I said that.”
She pretended to lock her lips with a key and toss it over her shoulder. He pretended he didn’t want to kiss the lock open.
Clover smiled shyly at Tilly, who sat across from her on the blanket.
Tilly was probably used to interacting with strangers as a climbing guide. Her arms were ripped and her calves super-toned. Tilly grinned back at Clover. “Nice shoes.”
Clover glanced down. “Thanks. I borrowed them from my roommate.”
Dustin hooked his pinkie with Clover’s and gave her a look, silently asking if she was okay. She nodded discreetly, and Dustin gave Brayden his attention while the women talked about shoes.
“How do you think the rookie will do?” Brayden asked.
“There’s so much hype over Judge. It’s a lot to swing on the end of a bat,” replied Dustin.
“My man!” Juan called from ten feet away where he’d been talking to Brian Tuttle. Tuttle was in the middle of a divorce—it was a sad thing; he hadn’t seen it coming and was devastated.
Dustin masked his cringe at the way Juan rubbed his hands together. Juan was a lot to take in for an average person; he’d terrify Clover. He mentally kicked himself for not warning her or warning Juan off.
Juan offered Dustin a fist bump, which he returned. “This is your pretty lady?” His eyes roamed Clover, all eager beaver.
Dustin tensed. Clover linked all their fingers together.
“Hell-o, beautiful.” Juan sank to his knees in front of her. “Why are you with him? Huh?”
Clover exchanged a look with Tilly, who rolled her eyes. “Knock it off, Juan.” Tilly shoved him. “You’ll scare her away.”
Clover’s eyes brightened a little and she gave Tilly a grateful smile.
“You cannot be jealous, Rocky.” Juan adjusted his ball cap. He’d called Tilly Rocky since she eagerly encouraged him off the side of a cliff during a lesson. He’d hung there, petrified for ten minutes, before his legs worked again.
“Why would I be jealous when I have this guy?” Tilly wrapped her arms around Brayden’s middle and snuggled close.
Juan huffed. “Riiiight.”
Just then, Juan’s daughters approached, carrying paper plates piled with cookies and brownies and a scoop of ice cream. Juan frowned. “I told you to get dinner.”
“We did. We’re having cookies for dinner,” said the oldest. Her hair was in a French braid that reached all the way to her belt. The other girls didn’t look as well put together, but they were all smiling as they stood there with their plates.
Clover scooted, bringing her back flush with Dustin’s chest. He instinctively placed a hand on her hip, ready to scoop her into his lap for protection. She patted the front of the blanket where she’d been sitting. “Come sit down,” she told the girls. “There’s lots of room.”
Dustin put his lips close to Clover’s ear. She smelled of coconut shampoo and something floral and feminine. “You doing okay?”
She nodded, her hair tickling his neck. “They’re adorable,” she whispered.
And that, right there, was what he found so dang attractive about Clover. While he’d seen the crooked braids and untucked shirts, she’d seen their smiles and cherubic faces. He pressed his lips to her earlobe. She gasped quietly—a pleasurable sound, to be sure, that ignited a fire in his chest.
He chuckled, liking that he got that kind of response out of her. If she gasped when he kissed her there, what would she do when he kissed her proper? Better yet, what would she do when he kissed her improperly?