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.
Chapter Seventeen
Bree couldn’t believe how quickly Robin had taken to Kruze. She wasn’t a shy youngster by any means, but she usually took more time studying a person before she warmed up to them. Not Kruze. She must’ve recognized something in him, maybe the fact that they were so obviously related. Standing outside her daughter’s bedroom door, Bree watched Robin hand her father a red crayon, then tell him what and how to color. When his hair flipped over his forehead, she smoothed it back over his head and out of his eyes.
It was the most endearing thing Bree had ever seen. There was the gentle man she’d fallen in love with in France. Whether Kruze knew it or not, there was a tenderness behind the brash, warrior façade he hid so well behind, the man who had captured Bree’s heart. They had made love in Paris. He’d been sweet and considerate, his touch soft and mellow. Not once had he cursed or diminished her in any way. He’d been polite and attentive, courteous to a fault. Which had made his leaving her behind so much worse.
And now he’d met Robin. She was an easy child to handle, according to her doting grandmother. She was smarter than a whip, which was why Bree had selected a nearby charter school for above-average children, instead of the state’s public-school system. Yet Robin still required one-on-one interaction, from the moment she opened her eyes in the morning, to the second she closed them at night. There were no breaks or time-off days to parenthood. Kids threw up and pooped their pants without warning. They whined when they were sick, threw tantrums when they didn’t get their way, and required tons of patience even on their best days. And that was if they were lucky enough to have both a mother and father.
Bree could still remember how tired she’d been those first months of Robin’s life. She’d been living back at home by then, and her parents had helped. But childcare had still been a twenty-four-seven endurance test. And yes, the sight of Kruze sitting with Robin and coloring the same cartoon elephant, was heartbreakingly beautiful. The gruff, bossy man he’d been in that cave certainly had a charming, pleasant side. Listening to Robin tell her father he was as big as the elephant they were coloring, gave Bree pause. This was his first daddy/daughter date, and it was obvious Kruze adored Robin. He was smitten. Who wouldn’t be?
But his current job was extremely dangerous, and it required extensive travel to far-off places. He’d told Bree that just tonight. How could a driven man like him take on the full-time job of fatherhood? Oh sure, it was nothing to sit and color with a smart little girl, but when things got tough, would he stay?
That was the real question, wasn’t it? Bree shook her head at the notion of him disappointing Robin, of him telling that sweet baby girl goodbye, even for a month or two. But what if he were killed in action on one of those dangerous jaunts? That would be hard enough on Bree, but to knowingly impose that kind of future heartbreak on her little girl wasn’t fair, and Bree knew it. She was Robin’s stability. Her rock. She honestly wasn’t sure what Kruze was or how he’d fit in. Maybe it was best if he remained a man-friend, not Robin’s father. That actually made good sense.
“He’s very handsome,” her mother murmured, her hand gentle on Bree’s arm. “Look at those shoulders. And that chest. I don’t usually like today’s hairstyles, but that one looks good on him.”
“He is handsome,” Bree replied without looking at her mom, and sweet little Robin had just confirmed her daddy’s hair was soft.
Bree knew a lot about that man and everything beneath his clothes. Kruze was handsome in a rugged, all-male, kick-ass way. Not only handsome, but he was a fierce fighter, a balls-to-the-wall warrior who’d been willing to die for her. He’d climbed a mountain with her slung over his shoulder, then carried her while he ran to the helo on their last day together. He’d run!
“You chose well,” her father said quietly. “I knew Kruze was more than just a friend the second he came into the house, but when he walked straight to that oil painting…” Her dad ran a hand up the back of his neck. “It’s obvious he’s Robin’s father. What are you going to do with him?”
Bree glanced at her parents, both standing behind her, both supporting her like they always did. “I haven’t chosen anyone, Dad, and I’m not doing anything with Kruze. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. It’s not like he and I are headed to the altar. We’re not dating. I don’t even know how long he’ll be in the country this time.”
“We have a guest room,” her mom suggested at the same time her father asked, “What kind of business did you say he’s in?”
Bree took a long, deep breath. “No guest room, Mom. Kruze isn’t staying. He’s a former Navy SEAL, Dad. I’m not sure who he works for now, but he’s the man who came to my rescue in Turkey.”
“All by himself?” her father asked.
“Yes, just him.” She licked her bottom lip, remembering. Her lips had been chapped and cracked back then. Kruze had given her his tube of lip protection and a roll of peppermints. They’d both been small acts of kindness, but they’d meant so much that night. For a moment, Kruze had been her whole world, and he
’d kindly shared pieces of America with her.
“Oh, my,” her mother sighed. “I didn’t know that. He’s very brave. He saved your life, honey.”
Yes, and now Kruze was going to complicate her life.
“We can’t turn him away, not after all he’s done for you,” her dad said earnestly. “We won’t. We owe this young man more than we’ll ever be able to repay.”
And so it begins. “Just because we made a baby together doesn’t mean we’re getting married. That’s not how things work anymore. Just because people hook up doesn’t mean they’re compatible.” Although Bree and Kruze had certainly been compatible in Paris.
“But you love him,” her mother declared quietly. “You’re not fooling me. I see how much you care for him in your eyes. And you’ve never brought a man home before, not even when you were in college.”
“No, Mom. I don’t love Kruze. Lord, I was only with him once before Turkey. That was Paris, remember?” How could they forget?
Her mother lifted her chin like mothers who thought they knew everything did. “He’s the guy who walked out on you?”
“Yup.” Unintentionally, Bree made the P pop, darn it. Just like Kruze. Was he rubbing off on her? “He walked away from me then, and you two know the rest of that story. That night in Paris was a mistake. Let’s talk later. I don’t want Robin to overhear us. Look at her.”
Robin hadn’t taken her eyes off Kruze. The poor, sweet thing was drooling. Bree knew the feeling. Kruze might be rough around the edges during hair-raising operations, but he was the most beautiful male she’d ever laid eyes on. Chiseled, like a marble statue in the Louvre, that was what he was, and he had no problem walking straight into danger. Make that running. He was durable, made tougher than most to take risks others wouldn’t dare take, and he’d come out of that rescue operation smelling like a rose. A rugged, melt in your mouth, manly rose.
Bree’s dad grunted. “You look at her, Bree. That little girl of yours is in love with… Her. Father. Robin hasn’t taken her eyes off Mister Kruze long enough to color anything. He’s doing all the work. She’s—”
“Entranced,” Bree’s mother murmured. “Robin’s got the same look on her face that you did when he touched her in that portrait.”
Oh, Lord, Mom was right. The sight of Kruze standing there with his mouth open had made for one heck of a heart-stopping moment, and Robin was certainly watching her father intently now. She wasn’t coloring, but she was thinking too much. Calculating. Her lips were pinched. She’d cock her head one way, then the other, like she was trying to figure him out.
They looked exactly alike. Robin probably felt as if she were looking in a mirror. She’d lean over the edge of the table and look down at the long, manly legs tucked beneath it. Every once in a while, she patted the back of his hand or stroked his biceps. She liked touching his hair. He’d smile at her. She’d grin up at him. Bree wondered what was going on in that smart little girl’s mind. Either Robin was encouraging Kruze, or she needed to make sure he was real.
“Come on, you two,” Bree’s mother said. “Let’s talk in the kitchen where it’s more private. I’ll make coffee.”
*****
So... Bree didn’t want him hanging around, and she didn’t love him, huh? Kruze tried to ignore the buzz from the Banks’ family conference in the hall, and hoped Robin couldn’t hear it. But whispers always carried farther than people thought.
He had one word for that stubborn woman chatting about him behind his back with her parents. Yet. Bree didn’t love him—yet. She was right. They’d only been together twice, intimate the one night. But to Kruze, Robin was a damned good reason to marry her mother, to spend the rest of their lives together, making sure Robin and however many more brothers and sisters came along after her, were well cared for. Loved. That was what moms and dads did, they loved their kids and put them first, no matter what. Like Scarlett had. This might be the biggest challenge of Kruze’s life, convincing a stubborn woman to love him, especially after the way he’d bailed on her. But he was a SEAL, and this woman obviously didn’t know SEALs never gave up.
Things were about to change. Kruze hadn’t told Bree about Berfende being in the States yet. Since she and her parents had stepped away and were obviously holding court without him, he put a quiet call into Senator Sullivan. It might be late, but Kruze doubted McQueen was home, more likely at his office.
Sure enough. The man from Texas answered his own phone with a terse, “Sullivan.”
Kruze winked at Robin as he replied, “Senator, Kruze Sinclair here. I’m sorry to disturb you this late, but have you heard any more on our friend from Turkey?”
Robin’s eyes lit up. Kruze hoped she was thinking Thanksgiving turkey. He winked again. She scrunched her nose and squeezed both eyes tight. That was a kick, her winking like that.
“Nothing yet. Why?” Sullivan sounded grumpier than usual.
“Permission to act as personal bodyguard to the target in question.”
“You mean Miss Banks? Good idea. Do you know where she lives? I can get that information for you.”
“Already on it. In fact, I’m visiting with her parents at the moment.”
“Good. Anything else?”
“No, sir.”
“Then get it done.” The connection ended.
“Yes, sir,” Kruze mumbled to himself as he slipped his cell back into his rear pocket. “Should we go see your mommy?”
Robin ducked her head into her shoulders, a definite gleam of mischief in her eyes. “Can I say boo and scare her?”
“Sweetheart, you can say anything you want.” Straightening, he held out his arms.
Robin scrambled off her chair and barreled into him with a delighted, “Let’s go!”
This child wasn’t afraid of anything. When she snuggled under his chin as if she belonged there, Robin stole his heart all over again. Kruze stood there, a sinner lost in paradise. There was no way in hell he deserved this child. She was perfect and her mother was a saint. They deserved better, but he was damned if he’d let them go.
His nose was deep in Robin’s curly hair, and his heart was in his throat. Just breathing. Just beating. Daring to believe that everything was different now. After all these hard years alone, he had something excellent to live for.
“I love you, Robin,” slipped easily off his tongue.
She burrowed in closer, her arms tucked between them. “I love you too, Mister Kruze. You smell really good.”
What could a guy say to that? Kruze already loved this little girl more than he’d ever thought possible. And one way or the other, he would make amends for being an ass, and he absolutely would marry Robin’s stubborn mother.
Chapter Eighteen
“I’m just saying that, yes, I like Kruze. But I don’t know him well enough to jump into marriage.” Bree poured a splash of cream into her coffee. “Lord, Mom, give me a break.”
Her father nodded, his gray eyes serious, yet patient. “Understood. We’re not pushing marriage, Bree. Not at all. We’re just concerned. Your young man in there seems like a stand-up guy, and he did come here to meet his daughter. That says a lot about his character. Too many guys these days never step up to the plate to take care of their children. They take off at the first hint of responsibility. Look at the climbing rate of single mothers in this country. Make no mistake, that man intends to make you his. You heard him. And he served his country, Bree. For the love of God, he was a Navy SEAL.”
Her father seemed overly impressed with Kruze’s military service. Bree was not. “Not all SEALs make good husbands, Dad. For Pete’s sake, they have the highest divorce rate in the country. I’m not rushing into anything just because he got me pregnant.”
“Now, now, don’t be short with your father.” Her mother reached across the table and patted her arm. “We’re just trying to help.”
“Boo!” Robin shrieked from the doorway, where she leaned out of Kruze’s arms like a
little monkey. She was peering through her fingers, her hands still up to her face. “Ha! I scared you, Mommy! You jumped! I saw you! Ha, ha!”
“You did scare me,” Bree exclaimed with a touch less enthusiasm. How long had Kruze been standing there, and what had he heard? His leather jacket was slung over one shoulder. Was he leaving? So soon? Well, didn’t that just figure?
“Boo Who?” Her father stood and poked Robin’s tummy, making her giggle. Not like she could fall out of Kruze’s capable hands. He seemed to know just how to handle that little girl, and he was grinning like a cat that ate the canary, feathers, feet, toenails, and all. He was up to something. Bree could tell.
“I just heard back from my boss,” he said, those green eyes of his sharp and too authoritarian for Bree’s liking. “We need to talk. You got a minute, sugar?”
“Sure,” she replied indifferently.
“You called Mommy sugar,” Robin said brightly. “Is she sweet? Like me?”
He nuzzled his nose into the corner of her neck and shoulder, making her wiggle. “Sweetheart, no one’s as sweet as you, but Mommy comes really close.”
Her father reached for Robin. “Let me take that sleepy girl off your hands. Come on, kiddo. It’s past your bedtime, and you’re not looking too chipper.”
“No, Grampa, I don’t want to go to bed,” Robin whined as she curled her body more fully into her father’s chest. “I’m staying with Mister Kruze. He’s my boyfriend, too, and he says I’m sweet.”
Bree would’ve slapped the tender look off Kruze’s face if he hadn’t spoken up and told Robin, “But your Mommy and me need to talk for a minute. You keep Nana and Grampa company until Mommy and I get back, okay?”
Damned (SOBs Book 4) Page 14
