Page 2 of Hot Momosa

“Let it go.” I strode across the lawn to the adult buffet and loaded my plate. With any luck, I’d scarf down my food, kiss the birthday boy, and get the hell out of there before Dahlia, and whoever-the-hell she was bringing, showed up.

Never one to take a hint, Gabe followed me. “It’s been a year, Leo.”

“I’m aware.” I glanced down at my lunch and wondered where my appetite had gone. Ten seconds before, my stomach had growled loud enough to wake the dead.

Leaning close, he whispered, “Talk to her. You two belong together.”

“Did you miss the part where she’s seeing someone else?” I marched back into the house and unceremoniously dumped my plate in the kitchen trash can.

A female gasped behind me. “Leo?”

My name on Dahlia’s lips made my heart lurch as if it planned to burst out of my back like the alien in a Sigourney Weaver movie. I turned and forced my voice to remain neutral. “Dahlia.”

I’d grown so used to seeing photos of her in business suits with her hair pulled back, I’d almost forgotten how stunning she looked in normal clothes. Her skinny jeans showed off her mile-long legs, and the fitted T-shirt hugged her chest. She wore her jet-black hair down and hadn’t bothered with makeup—exactly the way I liked her…or used to like her.

“It’s been forever.” Dahlia glanced away.

My God, I’ve missed her.

“Almost a year.” I shoved my hands in my pockets to keep from grabbing her and begging for a second chance like a middle-schooler with his first crush. Then again, Dahlia had been the first, and only, woman I’d ever loved—as in I’d fallen ass over tea-kettle for her.

“Yeah.” She swallowed hard. “How have you been?”

“Busy with work.” I rested my hip against the kitchen counter. “How are things going with your father’s campaign?”

“Chaotic.” Dahlia tilted her head and stared as if I’d spoken in another language. In a way I guess I had. We’d never been the type of couple to waste time with small talk.

Is this the new us? Is this how it’s going to be? Chit chat with me while she has real conversations with the other guy?

She glanced around as if searching for something to say or maybe an escape route. “How’s your dad doing? Did he fly in from Sicily?”

“He’s hanging in there, but his doctors didn’t think it was a good idea for him to travel.” My chest ached like it did every time someone mentioned my father’s health.

Dahlia nodded and dipped her chin.

It’d been two years since he’d been diagnosed with stage IV lung cancer, and eighteen months since he’d made the decision to stop treatment. No one had expected him to live as long as he had, but he’d made a career out of proving people wrong.

Time to change the subject.

It struck me as odd that she was alone. Call me curious, or masochistic, but I had to ask. “Did you bring Harrison?”

“No.” She sighed and opened her mouth as if to say more, but I cut her off.

“When Gabe told me you had a plus one, I thought it was either Senator Ken Doll or Gunnar. My vote was for the kid.”

She shook her head so quickly I worried she’d pulled a muscle. “Harrison had last-minute plans, and you know it’s not a good idea to bring Gunnar here.”

I held up my hands. “I know. I know. He looks too much like me. I get it, but you can’t hide him from your friends forever. I don’t know how you’ve managed to pull it off this long.”

“It hasn’t been easy, especially now that everyone is married and/or having babies.” Dahlia stared out the patio doors. “Which is one of the reasons I’m moving to Baton Rouge.”

The news hit me like a right-hook to the jaw. On the surface, it made sense. Dahlia’s father was in an all-out battle to win the Democratic nomination for the presidency. She’d spent the past few months working on his election campaign. However, I knew her family’s deepest darkest secrets. Governor Waylon Calhoun might have been a great guy, but he and the First Lady of Louisiana absolutely hated each other.

Dahlia had always sworn she’d never move home and expose our son to her parents’ arguing.

I studied her body language but couldn’t get a read on what was going on in her head. “Not with your parents, right?”

“No.” She sighed. “I’m looking at condos on the other side of town.”

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