Page 74 of Crushing Clover

I stared at him, not sure what to do.

“I’m guessing one of those guys is your boyfriend,” he said. “So, which one is it?”

Boyfriend?

Pointing out one of the guys might get him to leave me alone, but which one did I claim as mine? Lucky seemed like the easiest answer, but then either of the other two might come over and stake a claim now that this guy was hovering around.

“Why do you need to know who my boyfriend is?”

“I’m wondering who I’m in competition with.” He gave me a dazzling grin. “I’ve always had a thing for redheads.”

“Get away from her,” growled someone with a dark voice.

I whipped my head around to find Saint standing a few feet away, water streaming down his wetsuit, his damp hair shoved back. From the rise and fall of this chest either he was pissed, or he swam like hell to get back here. Possibly both.

“Chill out. We’re just talking.”

Shit.

“She’s ours.” He said it with such vehemence my heart fluttered. Then again, he probably meant it more literally, as in they owned me, not that they were attached to me as a person.

“Three boyfriends? Now I know why I couldn’t get you to say much,” he said, winking at me before walking back to his friends.

“How many times do I have to fucking tell you, girl? No talking to strangers.” His muscles were tense, even though he was doing his best to look relaxed.

“I was asleep in the sun, and he started talking to me. I didn’t even know he was headed this way.”

“What did you say?”

“He was asking me why I wasn’t in the water, and I told him I was afraid of sharks. I wouldn’t tell him my name. Then he asked me which of you were my boyfriend, and I wouldn’t tell him that either.”

He narrowed dark eyes at me. “That’s it?”

“What on earth do you think I’m going to tell a complete stranger at the beach?” I demanded in a whisper. “I don’t want you to get rid of me.”

“Why did he touch you?” he demanded tightly.

“He noticed my collar, and he flicked the bell. He didn’t touch me.”

Saint hauled me up. “Grab your shit.”

He stripped off his wetsuit.

“We were supposed to stay for the day,” I reminded him.

“Guys keep looking at you, and now one of them is sniffing around even though they have to know you’re unavailable. You’re wearing a collar, for fuck’s sake.”

He stalked back down the beach and talked to Rush, who’d come to shore. Saint gestured at the guy who’d talked to me, and when I glanced that way, he was still checking me out. Rush gave a curt nod and headed back out to Lucky.

“I’m not about to run off with some random guy,” I promised him.

“Couldn’t Lucky find you bathing suits that don’t show so much skin? You’re attracting too much attention.”

I sputtered in disbelief. “This is a standard bathing suit, Saint. It’s modest, compared to what I see other women wearing.”

“He could have bought you a swim shirt and board shorts. Don’t they sell modesty swimwear?”

“Why would I get that? I’m not religious.”

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