In the Dark (The Rules #2)(15)

A girl with a healthy appetite is sexy as f*ck, I gotta admit. And every time she leans forward to grab her soda out of the center console, she offers me a glimpse of her cleavage peeking out of the rounded neckline of her tank top. She’s wearing some lacy bra thing because I catch a hint of sweet virginal white lace covering those perfect tits every time she bends over too.

She makes me sweat. My imagination is on pure overload. I shove my mouth full of fries, trying to temper my needs with food but it’s not working. I don’t want food.

I want Lucy.

“Tell me where you’re from,” I say after I swallow the last bite of my burger. If she wasn’t going to hold back, then neither was I. I lick my fingers, catch her watching me and put on a better show. For once, she’s the one watching and I’m the one performing. That look in her eyes is straight up hunger. “Why are you staying in that big house all by yourself?”

She takes her napkin and very carefully wipes her hands off and I can hear the little grains of salt and seasoning hit the wax paper that lines her burger basket. “Why do you think I’m staying in that big house all by myself?”

Good question. Lucky for her, I have a vivid imagination. “Let me think. Hmm.” I tap my chin with my index finger. “I’m guessing you’re a sheltered only child.”

She looks surprised at my first assessment. “You’re right.”

Triumph slips through me. I’ve always been good at reading people. It’s what makes me so good at poker. I miss playing, miss hanging out at the gambling house I run during the school year with Shep and Tristan. Though it’s also a complete pain in the ass too, like a real fulltime job. Oh, and the fact that it’s illegal just adds a thrill to the entire production. “Divorced parents, Daddy isn’t much in the picture.”

Lucy says nothing but I can tell from her wide eyes that I hit the nail on the head again.

“Is it your dad’s house?” I ask. She nibbles on her lower lip then nods her answer. “And let me guess. He’s a total workaholic who said he’d spend all summer with his baby girl and then he bailed at the last minute. He’s out on some sailing expedition with his new girlfriend who’s only a couple of years older than you and he won’t be able to make it home to see you during your visit. He hopes you understand though, and you always do. You just take his credit card and rack up a ton of purchases, knowing he’ll never protest because of his guilt over never seeing you.”

She stares at me, her burger basket forgotten, her lips parted as if she’s trying to answer but having a difficult time finding the words.

“Not even close?” I ask, raising a brow.

“Scarily accurate,” she finally says with a little laugh. “Only he’s touring Europe with his new girlfriend. Daddy’s uncomfortable with being on large bodies of water.”

“Ironic then that he chooses to live in Santa Barbara, considering it’s right by the ocean,” I say, grabbing my Coke and taking a big sip. It’s almost all gone and I want more. Wonder if they do refills.

“He likes the climate,” Lucy says.

“Ahh.” I study her, let my gaze rove over her glossy dark hair still in that messy, sexy bun, her big, brown eyes watching me in return. Her lips are full, cheekbones sharp and her nose might be considered a little too big. Not that it matters. I think she’s f*cking beautiful. “Where’s Mom?”

“Farther south. Near Los Angeles.”

“Uh huh. And I was right that you’re an only child?”

She nods. “I always wanted siblings though.”

“What happened? Mama couldn’t stand the thought of having more brats to take care of?” I smile to offset the harshness of my comment. I don’t want to be mean but I know how some of these rich ladies are. They have one baby, freak out over how disgusting it is, how their bodies are altered forever and all that crap, and never have another. I’ve overheard enough stories straight out of my mom’s mouth to know it’s true.

“Mama wanted more babies too. It just…it was never in the cards for her.” Lucy sounds sad and I immediately want to change the subject. I don’t want to bring her down. Not tonight.

“How was your burger?” I wave my hand toward her burger basket, which is currently devoid of any burger and is still filled with leftover fries.

“Delicious,” she admits, sounding the slightest bit guilty. “I’m stuffed.”

“Really?” I grab a fry and pop it in my mouth, chewing on the salty goodness. “You ate that thing like you haven’t had a real meal in months.”

“More like weeks,” she admits. “I’m on a diet.”

I don’t get why. Really I don’t. I wasn’t lying when I told her I thought her body was banging. Granted, I’ve never uh, dated—is that what we’re doing? Dating?—a girl with a body like Lucy’s before but that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate it. Because I do. I had my hands all over her last night and I didn’t even touch the good parts.

“Why are you on a diet?” I try to keep my voice bland but I hear the disbelief. Does she?

“I’m too curvy. I have a bit of stomach. Eating burgers and fries and drinking vanilla Cokes isn’t going to help my diet either.” She sounds sad again. Damn it. “But everyone’s allowed a day to cheat, right?”