Page 93 of Crushing Clover

“We appreciate the offer,” Rush said smoothly, “but you don’t have the right look.”

I snorted derisively. “Because I’m not all edgy and tattooed like you guys? What was I thinking?”

“Stop being a brat,” Saint snapped.

“Our servers have to fit the aesthetic. It’s nothing personal,” Lucky explained. “You’re too wholesome looking.”

“We appreciate the offer,” Rush said, “but the vibe is almost as important as the food.”

“So, you only hire hot alternative people to be servers here?” I asked. “Do the patrons shove their tips directly into their…Doc Martens?”

“No!” The three of them replied in unison, in various levels of consternation. Lucky, for one, seemed amused. Saint looked like he could cheerfully strangle me.

“So, dress me up. No one needs to know I’m not edgy.”

“Ha!” Saint John retorted. He paced the room. “We’ll have to shut down Marty’s section, at least for tonight.”

“Suit yourself.” I leaned back against the couch and fanned myself with the paperback I was a quarter of the way through. “Sounds like you’re burning money.”

Lucky chewed his lip ring. “I doubt a change of clothes will do the trick. You’re too sweet.”

The three of them stared at me.

“She’d need a complete makeover,” Rush mused.

“Even if Lucky could make her look the part, she doesn’t know enough about serving.”

“We’ll try it and see,” Rush said firmly. “It’s better than cancelling that many reservations last-minute.”

Saint John grumbled something but didn’t come back with another objection—at least not out loud.

Lucky grinned. “I think my mom still has my high school stuff.”

“Your high school stuff might be too short for Clover.” Saint snickered and Lucky rolled his eyes.

“It’s funny how those jokes don’t bother me anymore.”

“Yeah. You got rolled around in enough beds that you stretched like a piece of clay,” Rush said, his smirk evil.

“One of those beds was yours, so as much as you like making fun of how short I used to be, you didn’t seem to mind at the time.”

“I never could resist our little pocket-sized slut.” Rush pulled him in for a kiss, and it was hard not to sigh. There was nothing like watching two hot guys make out, even if they had their clothes on.

“Enough of that, you two. The dinner rush is going to start in about an hour and a half, and if this is going to work, she can’t look like a cute little snack.” He circled his finger in my general direction, sneering faintly.

Did Saint just say I look like a snack?

Ugh! Why did I care?

I willed away my blush, even though I was pretty sure it didn’t work like that.

Lucky beckoned to me, and I dropped the paperback on the end table next to the couch.

“Where are you taking her?” Saint demanded.

“She’s going to have to try things on.”

“You’re bringing her to your parents’ house?” Saint put his hands on his hips, looking extra grouchy.

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