Page 39 of Crushing Clover

“You don’t need to make anything fancy for me. A box of Pop-Tarts is more my speed.”

He gave a pained chuckle. “If I still had a suspicion that you might be Arabella, that statement would have killed it.”

“Pop-Tarts?” I asked hopefully.

“Saint would burn this house to the ground before he allowed a box of Pop-Tarts in his kitchen.”

“Isn’t it your kitchen, too?”

“Well, yes.”

“So don’t you get a say?”

He arched a blond brow at me and grinned behind his shaggy beard. “Are you trying to make me complicit in planning a mutiny?” He led me down the hall.

“So, he’s your captain? I wouldn’t have thought you’d let him boss you around.”

“Watch yourself, brat.” It was a warning, but his tone was sexy rather than threatening.

“Yes, sir.”

When we got back to the table, Saint John had disappeared.

Chapter 10

As Lucky helped me out of his truck, I surveyed the half-empty parking lot.

“I still can’t believe you’re going to let me wander around a mall without, like, a gag and handcuffs.”

“Don’t tempt me, woman.” He shut the passenger door behind me, and his lips twitched. “At least I won’t have trouble spotting you in a crowd, wearing that.”

“Shut up. I’m having a Viking burial for this dress tonight.”

“If you start a fire in the house, Saint is going to beat your ass again.” He turned to look at the building that seemed to go on forever and groaned. “Have I mentioned that I hate shopping?”

“Maybe twelve times since we left the house.”

Lucky grumbled as we entered the mall. The place looked as if it had been a bustling hub of activity back in the day, but like every other mall I’d been to lately, it was a ghost town. Empty storefronts held signs advertising space for lease, and the stores that were open were running a skeleton crew.

Back in the day, I had worked retail, but that had only lasted six months—until I realized it wouldn’t pay both our rent and food. Then there were the internet and cell bills…

Briefly forgotten financial worries crowded back into my mind, but those problems weren’t mine anymore. Sure, some things would probably keep coming out of my account until it ran out of money, but there was no helping that. I doubted the guys would let me borrow a phone so I could call around to cancel services. The damage it would do to my credit rating made me sick, but would I ever need a credit rating again?

I’d taken such a large step sideways, out of the reality I had inhabited for so long, living hand to mouth. Knowing where the money came from wasn’t my problem anymore. Was this how it had felt for Noah all these years? He’d spent most of what he bothered to earn on games and snacks while leaving the rest of the bills for me to handle.

“Where do you usually shop for clothes?” Lucky stopped in front of a touchscreen mall directory.

“I doubt they’d have an outlet in this mall.”

“Damn, I should have guessed you’d have expensive taste.”

“I wouldn’t call it expensive, just very specific, and tied to my work.” I shrugged. “I used to wear leggings and T-shirts most of the time when I wasn’t working.”

“So, what do you want to wear now?”

“Anything is fine.”

He sighed in aggravation. “If you’re not careful, I’m going to take you to a department store.”

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