Page 61 of Crushing Clover

He regarded me with such ennui, I felt suitably embarrassed for attempting to joke around with him. “It’s a mystery, but I’m on page thirty-five and I’ve already sorted out the ending.”

“Not much of a mystery, then. Maybe there’ll be a twist you don’t see coming,” I said conversationally, having no investment in whether he enjoyed the book or not. He didn’t give the impression he enjoyed much in life.

“I doubt it, but I’m still reading because at least the prose is good.”

“I’m surprised you read fiction.”

“Why?” He grabbed his T-shirt by the back of the collar and yanked it off.

I’d seen him naked several times—hell, I’d watched him fucking—but his leanly muscled body was a work of art and hard to look away from.

“Because you seem to take yourself far too seriously to read anything except non-fiction.”

He caught me looking at him, and his mouth curved in a sardonic smile, as though he pitied me for admiring him. I prized away my gaze, wishing I’d gouged out my eyes rather than staring.

“Everyone needs some escapism in their life. For me, fiction is better than weed.” He stretched, and I managed to keep my eyes averted. “Don’t tell me you’re some kind of literary snob,” he said, jumping into the pool before I had a chance to answer him.

“Hardly,” I said when he resurfaced. “I like genre fiction. Romance, fantasy, mystery. I’ve even read the occasional western if that was all I had access to.”

He swept his messy black hair from his eyes. “Nice to know our little pet isn’t snobby.”

“I’ve never been in the position to be a snob about anything.”

“You weren’t born into a rich family? I’m shocked. Your table manners would suggest otherwise.” His tone was so dry it was probably lowering the water level in the pool.

“How would you know anything about my table matters? You don’t even let me use utensils.”

“A man does what he must to keep his family safe from the interloper we had foisted upon us.”

“Foisted?” I laughed. “I’m supposed to be here for your convenience, and you act like I’m the world’s biggest nuisance.”

“You are the world’s biggest nuisance. Owning you is even more annoying than owning a dog. You’re lucky I don’t make you pee outside.”

“You’re even luckier than I am on that account, considering you have a pool instead of a lawn.”

“Yeah, make sure you don’t pee in our pool.”

I was about to say something funny to make him wonder if I was sneaking out here sometimes to do just that, but he began to swim laps, ignoring me entirely.

Even though it was still relatively early in the morning, at least for people on our schedule, the sun was delicious. I wished we saw daylight more often, but the schedule was tight. They never really seemed to take a day off, because even when it was technically a day off, they were still busy with work-related tasks. I supposed that was all par for the course for people who owned a business. Considering how much there was to do, I had no idea how someone could run a restaurant by themselves.

Saint continued to swim laps until I thoroughly baked in the sun, having been lulled to sleep by the rhythmic sound of his exacting strokes.

I woke with pinpricks of cold water hitting my skin. Was it raining? I opened my eyes to find Saint John looming over me, his hair dripping pool water.

“What are you doing?” I demanded.

He scooped me into his arms, which were cold and damp. I arched away from him, and he glowered.

“Put me down!”

“Stop wiggling before I drop you.”

“I don’t like being carried!” I tried to smack him but I was tossed into the air. I screeched with fear, then landed in cold, wet silence, stunned by the frigid water. Somehow, I had held my breath as I hit the water and floated underwater for a moment. I’d been shocked, but now that I was down here, it was kind of nice.

Saint John hit the water, disturbing my peace, and I was snatched away from the deep and pushed to the surface. I gasped in air, and cleared the water out of my eyes, only to find his dark glare studying my face.

“Fuck! I thought I killed you or something.”

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