Page 7 of A Game of Ruck
“Hi,” he says, his voice low and smooth like aged whiskey.“I’m Luca.”
Oh.Oh no.
His voice is hot, too.
Like, panty-melting hot.
The kind of deep, growly rumble that makes you want to sin and then apologize for it in a confessional while doing it all over again.
I forget how to speak for a moment.
Then my brain kicks in with a firmsay something, idiot,and I blurt, “Annabeth Martinez.Nice to meet you.If you come with me, we can get this over with fast.”
Smooth, Annabeth.Really elegant.
He tilts his head, just slightly.
Not rude.Not even surprised.Justevaluating.
Like I’m a spreadsheet.Or a stubborn knot he doesn’t feel like untying.
Still, he nods.“Lead the way.”
So I do.
Because I’ve already made a fool of myself by showing up, bidding, and winning.No point stopping now.
And as we walk, side by side, a hundred pairs of eyes on us like we’re the next royal couple or a particularly juicy scandal waiting to happen, one truth slams into me like a runaway tackle.
I don’t think I’m going to survive this weekend.
Not with this man.
Not without falling headfirst into the fantasy.
And definitely not without making a complete and total ass of myself.
But it’s too late to stop now.So, I do as he says.
I lead the way.
Chapter Two-Luca
She doesn’t sayanything for the first few steps, just marches ahead like a woman on a mission.
It’s oddly hot.
Especially since this vantage point gives me a perfect view of her gorgeous peach of an ass.
I follow slightly behind, hands in my pockets, trying not to grin like a lunatic.
I don’t know what I expected when I saw paddle #69 shoot up—and yeah, you know I clocked that, too—but it wasn’t her.
Curvy as fuck.
Gorgeous eyes.
They’re the exact same color as my favorite blend of espresso beans.
