He desperately wanted a glimpse of her face, but she never turned around.
Lucca found himself turning off the car and getting out, wondering how this was more important than anything else he could do with his time. His instincts were what kept him going, following her into the store.
Lucca prided himself on being able to go unnoticed. His appearance of dark jeans, black shirts, and black sweatshirts allowed him to do that, plus his scruffy face and hair. He could go places no one in the family could go. Made men demanded attention with their suits and immaculate grooming, whereas he didn’t need that kind of attention. I have other ways to get the attention I demand.
Entering the store undetected was easy with all the expensive shit it held. He navigated the store, finding the girl in all black who seemed to be looking for a particular piece. A slight glimpse of the left side of her face revealed her soft porcelain skin. He stalked closer.
Have I seen her before?
Another small glimpse revealed her young age.
Stopping, he was about to turn around. She’s too young.
The girl turned then went back to a table she had missed.
His heart stopped a beat when he saw the whole left side of her face and a striking gray eye. The other half of her face was covered by a veil of hair. He wished he could reach out to feel the pure black strands of silk and move it to reveal the rest of her face.
Leave now. Nothing good would come of this. He should have left the moment he had noticed she was just a teenage girl.
He was unable to place it yet, but something about her called to him. It kept him from looking away from the girl and leaving.
The whole thing felt so wrong yet so right. He was being pulled in different directions. His mind told him to leave, but his body kept him patiently waiting.
Watching her hand go up to her face, he felt his breath catch in his throat when she swept her hair behind her ear. Fuck.
His heart skipped another beat at the sight of her face in its entirety. His eyes traveled down the right side of her gorgeous face that held a scar from above her eyebrow down to the hollow of her cheek. Another one graced the right side above and below her luscious lips. The instinct to let his fingertips glide down each mark was so strong he thought he might break his cover.
Her gray eyes held the story behind the scar, a story of sadness, grief, and torture. It was like staring at a perfect porcelain doll that had been dropped one too many times. Others would see a flaw in the cracked doll, making her no longer perfect, but he saw only beauty. She was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.
He could watch her study the delicate piece with gentle hands for hours.
The gold, ornate piece she was infatuated with was unfamiliar to him until she opened the egg-shaped object, and music began to play. Her eyes danced as she watched a ballerina twirl to the music. He wondered what it would feel like if she looked at him that way.
“It’s a beautiful piece, isn’t it?” the older woman who looked to be the storeowner asked as she came up to her.
The girl quickly became startled, shutting the music box. He wanted her to go back to the way she had been a moment before.
When her tongue peeked out to lick her lips, he eagerly waited to hear the voice that belonged to her.
“Y-yes.” She went back to looking at the box, avoiding the gaze of the woman. “H-how much is it?”
“Three thousand dollars.”
She removed her fingers from the piece. “Oh.”
The woman kindly smiled. “I know Christmas just passed, but you could always ask for it for your birthday, maybe. I could hold it.”
She shook her head. “Thank you, but it’s too much.”
The lady smiled. “Well, you could always come back if you talk your parents into it.”
“Thank you.” The girl took one last glance at the music box before she left the store.
Watching her leave was harder than he had thought it would be. He wouldn’t be able to come out of the store until she pulled out. Therefore, he had to watch her go to the car through the display window, and that wasn’t close enough for him.
A vibration in his pocket had him pulling out his cell phone. He didn’t say a word when he accepted the call.
His friend Sal came over the phone. “The BMW is registered to Maxwell Masters.”
That wasn’t what he had expected, though it explained why he felt like he had seen her before.
“Girl,” Lucca spoke into the phone carefully, watching her approach the driver’s side.