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Kaz narrowed his gaze at Rafael. “What do you think you are doing?”
Rafael stopped chuckling and placed his hands in his pockets. “I am merely lightening up the mood and providing a comical sign of respect—”
“You are scaring the kids.” Kaz glared.
“Well, that is not my intention.” Rafael took one hand out of his pocket and headed over to Paolo. “Hello, I am—”
“Do not touch him!” Kaz’s face shifted to the look that told me he wanted to slap someone. Thank God he was still holding Emilio.
Rafael stepped back. “Sorry.”
I cleared my throat. “Thanks for the welcome, Rafael.”
“I am glad someone appreciated my performance.” Rafael did another dramatic bow. “Anyway, I am here for you at all times. In fact, I am your tour guide through this lush paradise of cultural mystique and—”
“Get in the fucking car and take us to Delphine!” Kaz roared.
I took Paolo’s hand and scowled at Kaz. “The kids are here, baby.”
Kaz lowered his voice. “He is an idiot. He is lucky I have not shot him.”
“Apparently, the long flight does not have everyone in the best mood.” Rafael brushed the front of his jacket down. “Let us embark on this—”
Groaning, Kaz guided us away.
I glanced over my shoulder and saw Rafael shrug. “Thanks, Rafael.”
Then, I turned back to my stubborn lion. “Kaz, you’re supposed to be on your best behavior.”
“That was my best behavior.”
Max muttered behind me, “Squishy Spider, Em.”
Chapter six
Mean-Mug
Kazimir
The journey from the airport to Delphine’s property was nothing short of breathtaking.
I found myself in the back of our SUV, drinking the vibrant landscape of New Orleans.
The city was alive and breathing beneath the sultry Louisiana sun.
Outside my tinted window, a symphony of colors and sounds. Jazz notes floated from the corners, blending with the chatter of locals and the ever-enthusiastic tourists. Whimsical architecture greeted my eyes. I guessed it was a unique blend of Spanish, French, and American styles.
When we entered the French Quarter, Paolo climbed onto my lap. With his little finger, he pointed at things rushing by the window.
It shocked me to no end how comfortable Paolo was getting with me.
He turned my way and switched to Italian. “Where are we, lion?”
My heart warmed at his calling me lion. “We are in New Orleans?”
He batted those lashes as if trying to figure out in his head where that would be. “New. . .Orland?”
“New Orleans.”
