Page 40 of Crushing Clover

I snorted. “Oh, the horror.”

Still threatening me, he led me to a coffee shop and ordered a black coffee almost as big as my head.

“Do you want anything?”

“No thanks. I’m not a coffee person.”

It felt weird to not be carrying a purse and a cell phone. I trailed after him like a dependent child, not sure what to say.

“I don’t need anything expensive, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Saint isn’t going to be happy if you’re dressed in cheap clothes, and since I’d prefer to get this all done at once, we should probably get at least a week or two worth of clothes, plus whatever else you need—you know, underwear and stuff.”

“And stuff?”

“Shoes, socks, bras and lingerie or whatever.” He’d said lingerie in a way that suggested he had never said the word out loud before.

“Are you serious? Like, today?”

“How hard can it be? People dream about going on shopping sprees, right?”

“On nineties sitcoms, maybe.”

He took a sip of his coffee and sighed with satisfaction.

Considering they hadn’t wanted me in the first place, I was still shocked they weren’t locking me in the basement in rags.

“So, how long have you been…” His eyes went shifty. Was he making sure no one was listening to our conversation? “Uh…in this line of work.”

“I worked retail, and then I was a dancer. That’s where I heard about the sex resort I worked at for about a week and a half before I got hurt. After that, I ended up with Warren for a few days, then he gave me to Saint John.”

“That’s it?”

I nodded.

“And what do your parents think about it? Do they know?”

“Our mom took off when I was a baby, and our dad lost custody of my sister and I when we were really small because he used to leave us home alone when he went to work. I can’t blamehim—it’s not like he had any other choice. We were put into different foster homes. Dad died not long after.”

“What about your foster parents?”

“My last foster mom thought I was a piece of trash, and we’ve been no contact since I got moved to my first group home. So no, no one cares where I am, or what I’m doing, if that’s what you were asking.”

“Your mom took off? Don’t hear that very often. They’re usually the ones who stick around.” His gaze lingered on mine, and for a moment I thought he might kiss me. Crud. Did I want him to?

“What can I say? I have the wrong pole of a magnetic personality.”

He grinned at me, his golden eyes drawing me in. It felt like sinking into warm honey.

Damn.

Was I already developing a crush on this boy? Man. He definitely wasn’t a boy.

The way he looked at me made me feel as though he liked me.

Yummy.

Damn it, Clover, he looks at you like that because you’re basically a clone of the ex-girlfriend he hasn’t gotten over. No catching feelings for any of the men who own you.

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