Clover pulled into The Pantry parking lot and rolled her eyes at the sight of the shiny red sports car parked in the corner. “He’s baaaa-aaack,” she said in a creepy voice.

No doubt Dustin would be full of himself after hitting two doubles and scoring two runs the night before. The game had been on in the lobby at the hotel where she worked. Okay, she’d turned the game on. It wasn’t like being on a first-name basis with people who were on television was normal for her. Not that Dustin was as cool as he thought he was, but still …

With a hearty sigh, she headed into the building, determined to be a little nicer to him today. The Pantry needed all the free press it could get. Most of St. George didn’t realize they were here. Spreading the word about The Pantry was the main reason she gave out the essentials bags. If people knew where to get nutritious food, she knew they’d come. And others would help. People were good. Yes, there were a few who were completely self-absorbed or miserly, but most were open to an opportunity to help their fellow man. They needed to know where to put their time and resources.

Clover stepped inside to find Dustin playing catch with Damarius. Her heart melted at the sight of the brown-haired, brown-eyed boy grinning from ear to ear. He was missing a front tooth and had a hole in the knee of his jeans. His right shoelace untied as he chased after a ball he missed.

Damarius’s mom, Serena, was answering the photographer’s questions, her eyes tight. Serena’s husband was a mean drunk. The last time he’d erupted on his little family, Serena took off. Not even Clover or Jane knew where she was staying, and her visits to the soup kitchen were at uneven intervals. She insisted that she only came to for Damarius. Jane always slipped in some scented body wash or ChapStick or a shirt for Serena so she felt taken care of, too.

The photographer showed Serena the screen. “See, I only got him from the back. No one will recognize him. Is that okay?”

Her forehead smoothed. “Thank you.”

“Sure.” He put the lens cover on. “I think we’re good here.”

Dustin hung on to the ball and hunkered down to talk to Damarius. He glanced over, and his eyes caught Clover’s. His face brightened and her heart jumped. His smile couldn’t have been just for her, but it sure felt that way. He looked good in a pair of basketball shorts and a tight tee pulled across his very nice chest. His hair was damp, and she wondered what his morning was like and if he smelled like soap. She adored the smell of soap.

Clover rolled her eyes at herself and made her way over to talk to Serena. She had to pull her hands into fists and focus on her nails biting into her skin to keep from looking back at him. She swore she could feel his eyes on her like he had laser vision or something. “Hey.” She reached out and hugged Serena. “How are you guys doing?”

Serena smiled. “Fine.” Her smile fought to stay in place but wilted. “I’m tired. Tired of running away.”

“I know.” Clover gave her a side hug. “You’re so brave, Serena. It’s hard, but you’re a fantastic mom. When I watch you with Damarius, I know you were put in his life for a reason.”

Serena wiped at the moisture in the corner of her eyes. “I swear, Clover, you know exactly what to say to get me through another day.”

Clover hugged her again. “I’ll keep praying for you two, if that’s all right.”

“I’ll take all the help I can get.” Serena returned her hug. “I won’t keep you—I know you’ve got important work to do. “

Clover waved to Damarius, ignoring the handsome guy showing him how to grip a baseball. His little fingers barely covered the space from seam to seam. “Come see me before you go, okay? I have a treat for you.” She kept a box of Hostess cupcakes in the kitchen for such occasions.

Damarius nodded shyly.

“Do you have one for me too?” asked Dustin. His mouth twisted in a lopsided, goofy smile.

Clover nodded dumbly and stumbled through the swinging door. What she wouldn’t give to be able to sound normal in front of Dustin. Her whole face was on fire with humiliation. Thankfully, the kitchen was a ghost town.

Jane had put pork roasts in the slow cookers that morning, and the smell was incredible—light spice and a little sweet. Clover took a deep breath. She was in charge of the coleslaw and slicing buns. They wouldn’t have leftovers tonight, not when it smelled so good.

She washed her hands and put on an apron before retrieving the cabbage. She’d thinly sliced one head and was starting on a second when Dustin came through the swinging door. He filled the whole doorway with his muscles and his presence.

Clover jerked her chin in greeting. She had a large knife in her hand and needed to concentrate. Just because he’d been nice to Damarius in front of the camera didn’t mean he was a nice guy.

He leaned against the doorjamb, all chill. Acting like he was eye candy. Okay, he might be easy on the eyes, but the fact that he knew he was handsome negated any yumminess he possessed.

Whatever.

Seeing Damarius must have softened her up, because she was having all sorts of softening in her knees when she looked at Dustin. That just wouldn’t do.

“Is recess over already?” She sent him a verbal jab, hoping to keep him away from her. Many times on the streets, a first attack had spared her from pain. Though what type of pain she was trying to save herself from with Dustin, she wasn’t quite sure. His green eyes had a way of seeing right through her bluster, which made her feel vulnerable. She detested vulnerability and became even more agitated.

He took an apron off the hook by the door. The darn thing looked fantastic on him. “The bell rang.” He washed his hands and sidled up next to her. She caught the clean smell of him. His skin gave off a slight musk, tickled her senses, and filled her brain with his scent.

“You’d better skedaddle on back to class, Peter Pan.”

“You’re funny.” He scooped up handfuls of the chopped cabbage and dropped it into the giant stainless steel bowl in front of her. His arm brushed hers, and their hips bumped.

Clover gritted her teeth against the thrills shooting through her belly. “I’m a regular Tina Fey.”

“I like Tina Fey.” He continued to work alongside her. Right alongside her.

Clover shifted her weight so there was space between them. He was making her think more about him than about what they were doing. “You probably know Tina Fey.”

He smiled, and she was dazzled. “Never met her.”

“That’s a shame.” She searched his green eyes, sensing there was more to him than she could find in that one brief moment.

He tickled her side, and she jumped. “My agent might be able to set something up, though.”

There he went, throwing his fame in her face like it grew on the field and simply needed to be scooped up. She turned away from him, still shaken by the current that launched through her at his touch. “You should get on that.” She tossed her hand towards the door. “Go make a phone call or something, big shot.”

He turned to face her and leaned his hip against the counter. “I think I’ll stick around.”

“And watch me do all the work.” She chopped mercilessly at the cabbage.

“If you insist.”

“You’re such a child.”

“You’re bossy.”

She blinked. “You’re pretentious.”

“You’re a snob,” he shot back.

She set the knife down and turned to face him. “I’m too poor to be a snob.”

“It’s all in the attitude.”

Her frustration grew. She turned back and scooped up the last of the cabbage. “I don’t have an attitude.”

“You’re oozing with it.”

“You’re oozing with … pheromones.”

His eyebrows shot up, and her face burned red.

She hadn’t meant to say that! “It’s annoying.”

A small smile appeared on his lips, and Clover noticed how the lower lip was fuller than the upper lip. She briefly wondered how that bottom lip would feel against hers. Her eyes jumped from his lips to his eyes and she found a hint of mischief there. “On my gosh! You’re arguing with me on purpose.”

“Does that make you angry?” He brushed the back of his fingers across her flaming cheek.

She should have jerked away, but the caress was soft and tender, something she hadn’t experienced often in her life. Desire and a need for stolen kisses and whispered promises sprang to life. “You … you …”

The swinging door bounced open. “Hey, Dustin, can we get a shot of you in front of the building?” Jane pulled up short. Her attention tiptoed back and forth between the two of them standing so close.

“You bet.” Dustin peeled himself away from her, Clover feeling every millimeter of space. He disappeared through the door, still wearing the apron.

Jane lifted both her hands, silently asking what was going.

Clover picked up the butcher knife and pointed it at the door. “He came in here to pick a fight with me.” She closed her eyes, willing her face to cool off. “There is something wrong with that man.”

“From where I was standing, it looked like there was something right with him, too.” Jane winked and hurried after Dustin.

Clover reached for the carrots, ready to chop them into tiny bits. She replayed the last fifteen minutes in her head, pausing at the moment when Dustin’s fingers had touched her face. Time slowed, stopped, and then spun in giddy circles. It was a good thing Dustin was all about money and fame—otherwise, she might let herself like him.