Clover made her way into the hotel with slow steps. She was ten minutes early for the night shift, and there was no need to rush. Evening in the desert was an experience she appreciated. The colors were vibrant, especially the faded blue of the sky as it changed to gold, then red, and finally denim blue before black. Stars weren’t shy, hurrying out to say hello. And the temperatures, which were scalding during the day, became a pleasant warmth—like a blanket that had just been pulled from the dryer.

July 4^th was a mixed bag of a holiday in Clover’s life. Her mom would spend the day panhandling on a street corner, easily collecting enough money to get them to the next town. She never let Clover beg with her, and she never explained why. Clover liked to think that her mom was protecting her from the embarrassment, but that may have been giving her mother too much credit. Rainbow liked to work alone.

Alongside the muddled memories of her mother were the celebrations. It didn’t matter what city they were in over Independence Day; there was always something for a child to do. When she was young, she’d find a friend and they’d share cotton candy and giggles. As she got older, friends were harder to come by, but boys grew more interested. She’d had more than one kiss under the fireworks, happy to be someone’s somebody special for the occasion.

Looking back, the stolen moments were hollow. What was a kiss if there wasn’t love behind it? She’d become much more selective since then about who she shared her lips with on any occasion.

Which meant she hadn’t kissed a guy in a while.

Which would explain why—on the Fourth of July—she found herself thinking about Dustin’s lips.

Which was ridiculous, because the guy was in Cincinnati, and she was stuck at the front desk making sure the guests who’d had too much to drink didn’t smash a hole in the big-screen television. Even though it was different guests each year, somehow, someone managed to put the television in jeopardy. She considered leaving it off in hopes that no one would notice it if the screen was dark, but she wanted to watch the Redrocks game.

Brayden hadn’t pitched in a couple games, and she wondered if Dustin’s friend had done something wrong. The starting pitchers always looked angry when they were taken out of a game. But then, there was a different starting pitcher each game, so they could take turns. She’d have to ask Dustin. If she ever saw him again. He may be a jerk, but he was the only link to baseball she had, and she was falling in love with the sport. There was something poetic about the game that spoke to her.

She flipped the television on and found the baseball station with the commentators who were fast becoming her mentors. As they made their way through the pregame show, she rearranged the furniture in the lobby to create an alleyway for guests that would keep them far away from the screen. If the television was damaged, she’d lose the chance to watch games at work.

Once done, she brushed off her hands and smiled. She may not be getting kissed tonight, but her romance with baseball was just beginning.

The camera panned over the team, and her breath hitched at seeing the number 26 on Dustin’s jersey. He wasn’t facing the field, but was talking to one of the coaches. Fireworks exploded inside her chest. Not the big ones that fill the night sky with color, but a smaller fountain that popped and sizzled. She shook out her arms and then allowed herself to appreciate the way Dustin looked in his uniform. He wore the knicker-like pants with the long socks. She liked that he chose those pants instead of the long ones. He looked more like a player from the past, and baseball’s history was as romantic as any paperback novel she’d read.

They cut to the bullpen. She squinted, trying to make out Brayden. He was harder to find because she didn’t know his number. He was standing in the corner, talking to the catcher who never got to play in the game.

The desk phone rang, pulling her away from the screen and her admiration of the players. “Stick to admiring the game,” she told herself as she rounded the desk. “He’s not what you want him to be.”

With that, she started her shift and did her best to keep thoughts of Dustin Colt and fireworks far away.