Page 67 of Devil's Claim

He wasn’t budging.

So I ducked under his arm. “What are you hungry for, little man?”

“McDonald’s. Pwease?” Maverick was clapping his hands.

Kruz turned his head, his expression making it impossible to know what he was thinking.

I laughed nervously. “I told him we were on an adventure. Since that can’t happen very often, he knows it’s special when I do. That always means I get him something from McDonald’s.”

Why was it at the most important times Kruz turned into Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Silent?

“Honey, I don’t think they have McDonald’s here. We’ll have to find something else you like. Maybe a littlefoie gras.” The last two words I said under my breath, looking away briefly.

Kruz remained silent as a church mouse but was suddenly walking toward my baby boy. For a brief second, I was terrified that the huge Spaniard would smack my baby. I must have reacted defensively because Kruz snapped his head in my direction.

There was no anger in his eyes.

Only surprise mixed with hurt.

His exhale was labored as he dropped down on one knee, his face so close to my son’s that the little boy giggled.

“You’re big,” Maverick said. “And scarwy.”

I bit my lower lip to keep from laughing. There were so many special things about kids of his age including that they never told a lie.

“I take that as a compliment,” Kruz said.

“I wouldn’t,” I whispered, still biting back a laugh from the look Kruz gave me.

Kruz cocked his head. “You must be Maverick.”

“Yup. Maverick Cowwahan.” He was doing everything in his power to say the name properly. His eager face was just another reminder of why I loved him so much. And why I should be grateful for what Kruz had done. I just… How could I make it right in my mind?

“And I’m Kruz. Nice to meet you.” Kruz took my son’s hand into his, giving the little boy a proper handshake. “So, you’re hungry, huh?”

Maverick nodded about fifteen times.

“Then I guess we need to rally up so we can head to McDonald’s. Would that be okay with you?” He waited until Maverick clapped his hands with glee before lifting a single eyebrow as he turned his head in my direction.

Wonders never ceased.

There was something different about Kruz, including his expression. He was still sexy, but almost boyish. The tingling sensations were unwanted. This wasn’t a love affair and Kruz would never be my son’s father. However, I nodded in approval.

I didn’t question the decision. At least with chicken McNuggets in his stomach, he’d likely go to sleep quickly.

Maybe then I could find out the plan.

If there was a plan.

At this point, I had a feeling Kruz was winging it.

At that moment, my innocent son, the one with the cherub cheeks, threw his arms around a stranger and I realized my life had taken a bizarre turn. I folded my arms, trying to shake away the electric shiver.

I was spending time with a brutal drug lord kind of man who on the plane over had called himself a dictator. That kind of shit only happened in the movies. Right?

“Go get your shoes so we can go, baby,” I said quietly, uncertain how I was supposed to feel any longer.

“O-tay, Mommy.” He was jumping his way through the doorway.

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