I’m not in the mood to argue with him, so I shrug. “You pick.”
He gives me a wry look. “Sorry, but I have yet to meet a woman who will allow me to select food for her and then be happy with the choice I make. Just tell me which one you hate the least.”
“I hate beef the least.”
He affects a Cajun accent. “An excellent choice, mademoiselle. I shall order you the smallest burger known to man.”
I glance down and see my son about to blow a gasket, he’s so happy and full of three-year-old, animal-cracker-cookie-fueled energy. “If you don’t mind, I’ll take Sammy out to the playground to help him work off some of the energy he’s got bottled up.”
We both watch Sammy spin circles and then fall to the floor onto his knees. I reach into my purse, pulling out my wallet.
Dev puts his hand on my wrist to stop me. “Lunch is on me.”
His hand is so warm, I want him to keep it there. “I can’t let you do that. You bought the pizzas.”
“I don’t keep score. Besides, I get to write this off. The company will pay for it if I turn in my receipts. If you pay for it, that doesn’t happen.”
“Should I feel bad about your boss paying for my lunch and my son’s lunch?”
“No. He told me to, so we’re good.”
I want to mull that over for a little while, and decide whether I should take advantage of Ozzie’s generosity, but unfortunately this is not the best place to do that. Sammy’s going to make himself nauseous with all the spinning he’s doing. “Okay. Thanks. We’ll be outside. I’m going to find a table out there for all of us. I don’t trust Sammy on his own, even though the air-conditioning would be nice.”
Dev is looking at the menu, but he answers me. “Don’t worry about the heat. I’m used to it.”
I take Sammy by the hand, and together we walk out to the playground. I barely get his shoes off his little feet before he’s running away, screaming like a wild animal suddenly let loose after years in captivity. He leaps onto the nearest net he can climb that will bring him into the tunnel system, which looks like a playground for giant hamsters.
By some miracle, a family gets up from a table just as I’m looking around for a spot to claim, and I snag it, happy to dust off the salt and the fries and the various bits of lettuce that have fallen from their lunch. I sit down and the sun hits me in the face. Normally this would be immediate cause for complaint from me, but today, not so much. I close my eyes and soak up the beautiful warmth and the energy. Yes, it’s going to make me sweat, but I don’t care. Right now, my life is exactly how I want it, and that feeling doesn’t come to me very often. I’m going to enjoy it while it lasts and not question where it’s coming from.
CHAPTER TWENTY
I probably shouldn’t make a big deal about having a McDonald’s baby burger and tiny order of fries delivered to me at a dirty plastic table out on a playground made for oversize hamsters, but when Dev arrives with that tray along with his dimpled smile, I can’t help but feel like I just won the lottery.
Everyone stares at him as he walks by, even the children. It’s like a superstar has entered our midst. People are whispering, and I can almost guess what they’re saying; they’re wondering which NBA team he plays for.
I pretend like I don’t notice how amazing he is. And I pretend not to feel proud that this man is here with me. I don’t really have the right; we’re just coworkers and maybe friends. But being friends is pretty awesome when it’s with a guy like Dev, so I allow myself to be happy.
“Here you go.” He puts the tray down in the middle of our small table. “A little protein, some carbs, and a tiny bit of sugar to keep you sweet.” He hands me a miniature shake and grins.
Taking it from him, I try to will my silly blush to go away. “I don’t normally allow myself to have those things. It’s like eating dessert in the middle of the day.”
He sits down, somehow managing to fold himself nearly in half so he can fit onto the tiny chair. It looks really uncomfortable, but he’s not complaining. “I try to avoid sweets for the most part, but when it’s a special occasion I let myself indulge.” He holds up a second shake and wiggles it at me. Between his two big fingers, it looks to be about the size of a thimble. I doubt the contents will even spike his blood sugar a single notch.
“You must not get out very often, if McDonald’s is your special occasion.” I giggle because I think I’m pretty funny, but when he answers, my laughter stops.
“I’m not just at McDonald’s.” He takes a sip of his mini-shake. “I’m at McDonald’s with a very pretty lady and her cute son.” Dev turns toward the playground, so he doesn’t see my face turning red, thank goodness. “Where is the little bugger, anyway?”