Clover yawned as she placed heads of lettuce on the shelf. The yawn ended in a smile. She worked the night shift at the hotel five nights a week and didn’t feel this tired. Being at the baseball game last night was too much excitement, and she couldn’t fall asleep when she got home. She ended lying in bed with her phone, scanning the Redrocks website and watching YouTube videos. Some of them had her laughing into her pillow—baseball players had a sense of humor she wasn’t expecting. They did choreographed dances in the outfield and held dance-offs during rainouts. They charged the mound to protect their teammates, and they hit batters who had too much attitude. Rivalries between teams were as big as rivalries between siblings. In short, baseball was a family, and she wanted to be a part of it.

Dustin’s media circus yesterday had been good for The Pantry—much to her chagrin. They’d gotten a donation of fresh fruits and vegetables from a local grocery store this afternoon. The food chain was a major sponsor for the Redrocks. Canned goods came in fairly regularly, but the fresh stuff was always a blessing. Jane was in the office, texting some of the regulars on their government issued cells about the apples and bananas so they would know to come in before the fruit was gone.

Clover hummed along to the love song playing over the speakers. They kept the station tuned to a local oldies favorite. Music was subjective, but no one objected to Buddy Holly and Elvis Presley.

The door whooshed open, and Dustin charged in, his arms stiff. Clover found herself smiling at him. He’d looked so good in his uniform last night—even better than on television. He stopped on the other side of the produce and folded his arms over his chest. His arms bulged in the tight workout shirt, and she swallowed.

Clover jerked herself out of admiring his physique. She wasn’t that shallow. Dustin was a fine specimen of manhood. Usually, she felt threatened around a guy that big. That was part of her mother’s training—stay away from men who are bigger than you. Dustin didn’t give her that sense of danger. Even though he was glaring at her and acting like a bear protecting his cave, she still felt safe.

Her eyes didn’t get much past combing over his arms when he snapped, “Do you even know how to catch a ball?”

Clover’s defenses sped from zero to one hundred at his tone. She planted a hand on her hip. “No.”

“No?” he asked incredulously. Like it was impossible for a person to not know how to catch a ball. He needed to get out more.

“No,” she said firmly.

His arms fell to his sides and his anger melted into disappointment. She wasn’t sure what was worse. “You never played T-ball or volleyball or anything?”

“Nope.” She bent down and pulled a head of lettuce out of the box and set it on the display.

“Baseball is the all-American pastime. It’s everywhere. Kids should learn how to play catch.”

Clover shrugged. She wasn’t about to tell him they never stayed in a town long enough for her to have an address, let alone play a full season of T-ball. “We moved around a lot.”

“That’s not an excuse.” He picked up lettuce with both hands and threw it at her. “Catch.”

“Aaahhh.” She fumbled, and the lettuce ended up in the box. “Hey—you can’t waste food like that. There are people counting on this for dinner tonight.”

He grabbed another. “Then catch it.” This time he smiled before he threw.

She managed to clutch this one to her chest. “Are you insane?”

He scratched his chin. “You know, when a player throws you a ball during a game, you’re supposed to catch it.”

Her shoulder suddenly ached. She’d forgotten that he’d hit her with a baseball last night. That was rude. “Why?”

“Why? Because it’s part of the game.”

She rubbed her shoulder. “That’s stupid.”

He scowled. “I can’t talk to you if you’re going to disrespect baseball.” He stormed through the door.

Jane cleared her throat. She was standing in the doorway to her office. Clover had no idea how long she’d been there, but the disappointment on her face was clear as day.

“I know. I’m supposed to play nice with the rich guy.”

“You’re supposed to play nice. I think you owe him an apology.”

Clover nodded at the same time she sighed. “He attacked me. He threw lettuce.” She tossed her hands in the air. “He is the most unlikeable man on the planet.”

“And yet, you were drooling.”

“Was not!”

Jane lifted one eyebrow.

“Eavesdropping is as big of a sin as drooling.” Clover pointed at her in an effort to move the spotlight.

Jane pushed off from the door. “Fine, I’ll jump in next time and keep him from throwing produce if you’ll tell him you’re sorry for calling what he does for a living stupid.”

Clover flipped around and leaned against the display. “That’s just it—baseball isn’t stupid. In fact, I think I’m in love with baseball. But Dustin makes me so mad I say things I don’t mean.”

“Maybe it’s time you two start over.” She pinned Clover with a look. “An apology would go a long ways to making that happen. Remember, a nice word for a not-nice one.”

“Well, I can’t run faster than a Camaro, so the apology will have to wait.” Inside, she was relieved. Talking to Dustin was hard enough; eating crow in front of him would be awful.

“The Redrocks are playing at home tonight. I’m sure you could track him down.”

“I’m working.”

“The game doesn’t start until nine. You’ll be fine going over after your shift.”

“Sure.” What’s one more sleepless night?

Jane hesitated. “You know, I don’t think he came in here to throw vegetables at you.”

Well, he did. Clover opted to keep her snarky comment to herself. “Then why did he come in?”

“I think, and this is just a vibe I’m getting, but I think he came in to play.”

Clover had no idea what that meant. “Play?”

“To play. He’s looking for a friend.” Jane lifted her shoulders. “It’s just a feeling.” She headed back to the office.

Clover rubbed her sore shoulder again. When the ball hit her arm, she thought Dustin was throwing it at her, but now she wondered if he’d been throwing to her. The second time he tossed a ball to the crowd, he’d looked right at her. She hadn’t been sure because his face was partially in shadow from his hat, but she’d felt his eyes connect with hers.

Catching Brayden’s ball had been fun, like she was part of the game that happened on the field. Come to think of it, the people around her had reached for those fan balls.

Had Dustin been trying to include her in baseball? If so, then she did owe him an apology. She probably owed one to Brayden too, considering she’d handed the ball to a little kid on their way out of the stadium. Sheesh! For someone who wanted to join the baseball family, she wasn’t doing a very good job of being a good sport.

Dustin must think she was a baseball idiot. Or an idiot in general, because she couldn’t play a game of catch. Her stomach sank. There was a good chance that the majority of the problems between them—the reasons they couldn’t get along—started and ended with her.

Well, that was going to change. She’d march herself right on down to the stadium and do what needed to be done as soon as she was off work. Never let it be said that Clover Maes couldn’t admit when she was wrong.