Page 36 of Damned
“She is,” Kruze breathed.She gets that from Bree.“What grade are you in?” he asked Robin.
She shook her head. “I not in school yet, Mister Kruze,” she scolded as if he should know better. “Mommy says I get to go to pre-school next year, but I’m not old enough now. Not yet. I hafta wait until September,” she said with a dramatic sigh. “How old are you?”
“I’m pretty old.”
“Old enough to know better, but dumb enough to do it again?” Bree teased.
He glanced over his shoulder at her. She’d hung his jacket on the arm of the couch. But after the astounding events of this day, there wasn’t a teasing bone left in Kruze’s body. He met Bree’s light-hearted comment with a stern, “And again and again, if that’s what it takes.”
She blinked at what he’d insinuated, that he was dumb enough to make love to her again, the prettiest pink blush climbing up her creamy neck and cheeks. Even her dad chuckled at Kruze’s forward-march declaration. He was standing opposite his wife and granddaughter with his elbow cocked, and his chin in his fist as he watched. Yeah, Brandon knew exactly what Kruze said—and meant. Bree might ignore his insinuation to make more babies with her, but another man recognized a challenge when he heard one. Kruze meant to claim this woman. Soon.
“Do what again?” Robin asked. Not waiting for an answer, she grabbed hold of his index finger and asked, “Wanna come color with me? I got two sets of pretty pencils and a big bucket of crayons and a really cool pencil sharpener. I’ll let you use them, and Nana just bought me a brand-new coloring book, too. It’s got puppies in it and lions and lots of baby animals. I like baby animals. Come on! I got a table and two chairs in my room. Wanna see?”
Kruze blinked back tears at her light-as-a-feather touch, then blinked again, not going to cry in front of his daughter. But when he lifted to his feet, and Robin ordered him to, “Carry me,” he lost it.
Bending over, he picked up his daughter for the first time in his life and settled her little butt on his forearm. His heart pounded like a beast. Robin was so small, and she weighed next to nothing. He tipped his nose into the side of her head. The scents of baby shampoo and powder, or whatever it was, filled his heart. He was as bad as Chance and Pagan. He was head over heels in love and falling apart.
Robin squirmed on his arm as she ran her fingers over his head. Giggling, she declared, “You got lotsa nice, soft hair, Mister Kruze. And it’s long, like mine. But I like how it feels here. It’s prickly!” She ran her fingers over his ears and around the closer shaved part of his skull.
Thank God, Bree wiggled her hand into the crook of his arm and rescued him. “One picture, you guys. Just one. Then it’s bedtime, young lady.” Or he would’ve started bawling.
She steered Kruze and Robin toward the hall and into the pinkest room he’d ever seen. The ceiling and carpet were white, which made the walls and furnishings pinker. It reminded Kruze of the time he and his brothers bicycled to the carnival back in San Diego. There, after Pagan had snarfed a dozen cotton candies and three cans of pink lemonade, he’d hurled pink for an hour. The memory lived on in infamy whenever the Sinclair brothers were in the same place at the same time and relaxed enough to reminisce.
Robin wiggled to get out of his arms, so he set her gently on the floor. She was a bundle of energy, bouncing like a baby goat with springs for legs. “Do you like my room? Mommy and me painted it. It’s pink! Pink is my favorite color!”
“I see that,” Kruze replied calmly to her enthusiasm. “Sure, I like pink.” He did now.
She grabbed his hand and pulled him over to the miniature wooden table—the pink one—in the corner. But when she pulled a pint-sized, pink chair out, she was smart enough to look at it, then look way up at him. “Wow, Mister Kruze. You are really, really big, like a giant!” she exclaimed, her hands on her hips and her head tipped back.
Kruze fell in love with the way her bright green eyes turned into saucers. She was the most adorable kid he’d ever met. “I am, huh? Well, how about you take the chair, and I’ll sit on the floor beside you?”
“Okay!” she replied with gusto. That seemed to be her modus operandi for life. She embraced it. Hell, Robin embraced everything, even him. Kruze couldn’t help but wonder if she got that from her mother. Had Bree always been this full of life and energy before she’d met him? Before he’d left her? Kee-rist, the depth of the pain he’d caused Bree and indirectly, Robin, stole his breath and his nerve. He had no business being there. He didn’t deserve Bree or Robin. They were both sweet and kind; he was a homewrecker. Not worthy. Not even close to being the man these two women deserved.
Damned if Robin didn’t pick that precise moment to tilt her head back and giggle. Just that fast, Kruze heard his mother’s voice in his child’s joyful laugh. Her wise words came back to him.Live passionately, son.
Blinking like a damned sissy, Kruze folded his long legs, rested his elbows on his knees, and made up his mind.‘I will, Mom. From now on, I’ll be the man you raised me to be. I’ll change, you’ll see. I’ll make you proud again.’
Picking up a darker pink crayon, Kruze started to color in earnest. He was on a mission, the very best mission of his life.
