Page 41 of Mister Mom

I pop another chip in my mouth and glance over to the room beside us to check on Payne. He’s playing with the puppies and having fun.

“Must be hard to be so wanted.” My voice is thick with sarcasm because Leo doesn’t date. Like ever.

He can thank that bitch Yvette for that. I swear he doesn’t even notice anyone with a pussy unless it’s an actual pussy cat because I think he sometimes grooms them here. I’m convinced it’s why he’s okay with the rumor he’s gay.

“They like the outside package, that’s all.” He shrugs.

“Well, they could like the guy on the inside if you ever… I don’t know, went out on a date.” I catch Payne walking toward the door, stopping to pet another dog.

“We’re focusing on you, remember?”

“My life is peachy keen.”

“That’s why you’re screwing the lead actress in your movie.” He leans against the wall, crossing his arms, allowing the overhead dryer to finish off the Golden Retriever.

“Don’t try to bait me. I’m not fucking her.”

“But you want to.”

“No.”

“Bullshit. I’d bet good money you’re having a hard time keeping your hands off her.” That know-it-all grin covering his face is making me crazy.

I hop down from the counter. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Hold up.”

I stop mid-stride.

“Remember it’s not just her.” His gaze moves to Payne in the other room. “It’s them too.”

The hint of sadness in Leo’s eyes reminds me that he grew up with a single mom. That he probably saw his fair share of dipshits come and go.

“Got it.” I nod.

“He really likes you and from what you say he needs a father figure in his life, so don’t mess it up.”

“Leo.” I stop and hold my hand up in the air. “I got it.”

“I hope so… now, go buy something.” He smiles and I walk out of the grooming area only to have Payne at my feet seconds later.

“Can we buy a dog?” he asks, jumping up and down.

I ruffle his head. “That’s your mom’s department.”

“Pleeease,” he whines. His hands are up in a prayer position. “Please?”

“Leo, I’ll catch you later man.” I give him a half wave which he returns and then I push the door open.

“Please,” Payne begs, his footsteps dragging along the pavement.

Spying the ice cream shop a few doors down I figure a distraction might work. “How about some ice cream?”

“Yay! Ice cream.”

He grabs my hand and drags me forward toward the placard that has a picture of a giant ice cream cone. “Do they have cookie dough?” he asks, practically vibrating with excitement.

“I dunno, buddy. Let’s go take a look.”

---