Page 29 of Hot Momosa

Leo

My plan wasto take care of the little guy so Dahlia could sleep in. After what she’d gone through the previous night, she needed to take it easy. If she slept through the plans she’d made with Harrison-fucking-Meriwether, all the better.

I’d replayed her half of the conversation with Harry a dozen times. She’d seemed surprised he was in town. Had he just happened to make an unexpected visit on the same night someone broke into her house?

Coincidence? I think not.

I’d bet my left nut he had something to do with the stalker. In fact, I wouldn’t put it past him to have written the letters himself to scare her into his spray-tanned arms.

“Mamma!” Gunnar’s frightened voice, and subsequent cries, snapped me back to reality.

I set my coffee on the kitchen counter and hurried toward the guest room.

“Mamma!” The toddler sat in the center of the bed surrounded by poodles. His dark curls stood up in gravity defying spikes, and his face was red and soggy from crying.

I walked into the room and reached for him, but stopped when he shrank from me. “Hey, it’s okay. Your mom is sleeping in the other room.”

“Want…Mamma.” He hiccupped between each word.

Easing down beside him, I lowered my voice in hopes he’d do the same. “How about some scrambled eggs and cartoons?”

“Waffles?” He wiped the snot from his nose and rubbed his hand on Fifi.

I added bathing the dogs to my growing to-do list. “Waffles it is.”

Gunnar sighed, untangled his legs from the covers, and launched himself at me.

Two seconds after impact, I realized I had a problem. Moisture had soaked through my T-shirt, the toddler, and the bed. The freaking diaper had leaked. “Let’s get you cleaned up, little man.”

He scrunched his face. “I peed.”

“I see that.” Chuckling, I lifted him into my arms and carried him to the guest bathroom.

He took one look at the walk-in shower and shook his head. “Tub.”

“I don’t have a tub.”

He cocked his head. “Mamma takes showers.”

“Yes, she does.” It had to be a major sin to think about Dahlia wet and naked with our child in my arms, but my brain went there before I could stop it. “What do you say? Want to try it out?”

He gave me a dubious look but nodded.

After stripping him out of the ten-pound diaper and piss-soaked pajamas, I reached in and started the water without thinking. The last time I’d used the shower was to bathe the dogs, and of course, I’d forgotten to hang the detachable nozzle back up. The damned thing wiggled and whirled like an angry snake. Thankfully, the shower enclosure was the size of a walk-in closet and the water didn’t soak the floor.

Gunnar backed away from me, shaking his head. “Tub please.”

I turned the water pressure down. “It’s better now. Nothing to be afraid of.”

“Tub.” He folded his arms.

“I don’t have a tub.” It occurred to me I was arguing with a two-and-a-half-year-old—and losing. “Give it a try.”

Gunnar pursed his lips. “You try.”

“Why the hell not?” I stood, pulled my T-shirt over my head, and slipped out of my PJ pants. “Come in with me.”

Gunnar cracked up laughing. “You have undies on.”

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