Page 9 of Little Sunshine

He smiled down at me, but he didn’t say anything further.

There was no reason for him to be mindful of my ego. Getting caught stealing and then becoming a charity case had already destroyed what little, tattered one I’d started with.

It was officially DOA.

We walked in silence for a couple of minutes before reaching the food court. So many mouthwatering scents hit my nose at once, I worried I’d start to drool.

“What’re you in the mood for?” he asked.

Everything.

Anything.

All of it.

My choices were Mexican, chicken, burgers, and a deli sandwich place. I scanned the prices before sticking with my original—and inexpensive—plan. “A burger.”

He lifted his chin and guided me over to that register. “Order what you want.”

“Can I have a junior burger, please?” I asked the wide-eyed cashier.

Not that I blamed her reaction. Shame-spiral or not, even I knew the man at my back was hot.

Maybe she thought I was a juvenile delinquent out for lunch with my social worker.

Or parole officer.

“Make that a double,” the behemoth said.

“Cheese?” the cashier asked.

I shook my head. “No?—”

“Yes,” the behemoth answered for me.

“Bacon?” the cashier asked.

“No—” I tried, but again, the behemoth contradicted me.

“Yeah. And a large fry, a large drink, and a chocolate milkshake.”

Oh duh.

He must be eating, too.

“And a salad,” he added, rounding off the meal with something healthy. Like some lettuce would cancel out the thirty million calories in the fries and shake.

He’s well over six feet of solid muscle. He probably needs a ton of calories to fuel a body like his.

My cheeks flushed at my thoughts. I had no business thinking about his body.

And I certainly shouldn’t have been studying it the way I was.

When I dragged my eyes up to his face, I saw he looked down at me expectantly.

My face burned hotter.

If he’d noticed me checking him out, he didn’t say anything. “What dressing?”

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