Clover leaned back in her chair in the stands and rested her feet on the dugout, mirroring Dustin’s posture. The big screen had been turned off, and a small army of workers cleared the buffet, folded blankets, and stacked chairs on a dolly that would roll to some storage room.

One angry grounds crew member muttered as he combed the outfield, looking for divots in the grass. He didn’t need to worry. Most everyone had taken off their shoes and enjoyed the cool grass on a dry and hot evening.

Even after the sun disappeared behind the red cliffs, the hot air bounced off Clover’s skin. Of course, she took all this in, but what truly grabbed her attention was Dustin.

The players and their families had all gone home. Well, not Juan. He and his girls were playing an imaginary game of baseball. Juan was pitching, and when Julia, the seven-year-old, swung a pretend bat, Juan clicked his tongue loudly, and she took off for first base.

Clover and Dustin laughed, as Juan was the only defensive player on the field and ran back and forth, tracking a high foul ball that apparently touched the clouds.

“Should we help him?” asked Dustin lazily. They’d had a great time in their little corner of the park. Several players had wandered over to say hi, but their group remained relatively small, and Clover found that she enjoyed herself once she quit worrying so much about what everyone thought about her.

“Nah, let them wear him out. He’ll sleep better that way.” Clover settled deeper into her seat.

Juan was loud and thought himself much too funny for his own good. He’d joked about Clover ditching Dustin and going home with him. He’d also teased Tilly about getting out of her “obviously rocky relationship” with Brayden and trying out a stable guy like him.

The girls giggled as they circled the bases, scoring three runs off one hit. Juan charged them, promising the tickle of a lifetime, and they ran, screaming in all directions.

Clover wouldn’t mind a chance to touch her toes to home plate. For now, the image of the girls—their hair falling out of their braids and their skirts flying behind them as they ran, their giggles and grins full of that joy that children can grab in an instant—was soothing.

“Front-row seats are sweet.” She laid her head on his shoulder, enjoying the firmness.

“I’ll keep my spot on the field, thank you.” Dustin lifted one side of his lips in a sultry grin.

Clover dropped her lashes. He’d been looking at her like that a lot tonight—all interested. Each time, her stomach did that bubbling-brook-happy feeling. She was definitely interested in Dustin. She wasn’t sure what to do about it yet. The two of them came from different worlds, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be together. They’d held hands most of the night, and she’d leaned against his firm chest for part of the show.

The derby exceeded her expectations. The players on screen made the whole thing look like a party. Under the smiles and the joking, there was a strong level of competition. They all wanted to win something fierce. Balancing friendship and competition was difficult, and yet they made it look like another day at the ballpark. She’d seen that same drive in Dustin and found it incredibly attractive—like a primal need inside of him to come off the conqueror. It was so very alpha male and triggered something primal inside of her to grab on to him and not let go.

Before she could let herself sink deeper into this swirling pool of desire, he needed to know what he was getting himself into. She turned her attention back to the girls spinning circles around the pitcher’s mound.

“They remind me of me.” She nodded to the field.

Dustin pulled his eyes off of her. Funny how she could feel his gaze as easily as she could feel his thumb stroke her hand. The sensation was pleasant and exciting at times. Especially when he pulled out that devilish grin.

“How so?” he asked. He moved his thumb back and forth, slowly.

Clover had to think hard to get past the sensations his touch created inside of her. “My mom was … unconventional. She didn’t care if my hair was done.” Or hers, for that matter. Rainbow’s wavy blonde hair hung all the way down her back, ending in a V. Brushing it was a chore, and washing it was worse unless she kept it braided.

“My mom was like that too, depending on the day. Sounds like our moms would get along.”

Clover closed her eyes, feeling the sting of being different. It would be so easy to agree with him and drop the conversation. To let him believe she had come from a middle-class neighborhood with a white fence around the yard and stories about recess and a dog she’d loved. But then what? What if all the feelings that were growing within her led to a relationship where he wanted to meet her parents? After all, that’s what normal couples did. They dated for a while, and then, to take it to the next level, they met the family. The level after that involved a ring. It could take months or even years to arrive at that point, but suppose they got there and he thought her mom was going to be at the wedding? Eventually she’d have to tell him. “I don’t know where my mom is.”

“What?” Dustin’s thumb stilled.

“My mom’s a gypsy. She raised me on the streets.”

His hand gripped hers. “I don’t—”

“We were homeless.” The words weren’t a confession, nor were they a plea for understanding. Clover couldn’t change the past any more than she could flick her fingers to extinguish the stadium lights.

Dustin’s eyes softened. They were so green under the bright lights, green as the infield grass. “That actually explains a lot about you.”

“In a good way?”

He squeezed her leg. “In the best ways.”

She let out a sigh. “I’m sorry I freaked out earlier—in the dugout. It seems silly now.” Yes, there had been a lot of people here, but they were all kind—at least the ones she’d met. And Juan’s girls were adorable with their cocoa-colored eyes and round cheeks—the picture of a happy childhood. And their smiles could talk their daddy into anything. They waved as they disappeared through the dugout. Clover and Dustin waved back.

“Does it?”

Clover put her free hand over his. “All my life I’ve been treated as if I was invisible or told to act as if I was. I revert to that when I feel uncomfortable.”

Dustin reached out and ran his fingers down her cheek. “I can’t seem to look away.”

“I don’t want you to,” she rasped, her voice abandoning her in a pool of desire.

Dustin lightly traced her lips with his thumb, turning on every one of her nerves and stirring desire in her lower belly. She barely stopped a whimper from escaping her throat. His eyes dropped to her lips as he leaned forward.

Clover had been kissed before, but never had she wanted a kiss as badly as she wanted Dustin’s. His warm, brownie-tinted breath brushed her face, and her eyes fell shut, heavy with the need for him.

His lips met hers, warm, sweet, and then he smiled, breaking contact. Cupping the back of her neck gently, he didn’t let her move away. Not that she wanted to. Her breaths came deeper but also faster, her chest lifting and falling. Heaven help her, her chest was heaving while Dustin’s cheek brushed hers once, twice. A whimper came from deep inside her throat.

Dustin’s smile melted against her lips and he kissed her again, more insistent this time. She wrapped her fingers in his shirt and held on for the ride, because she was flying, soaring through this moment.