Page 33 of Hot Momosa

“You okay?” Leo walked into the bedroom without knocking and gawked at my bra-covered breasts.

I should have covered them or turned my back. Instead, I took my sweet time dressing. “Yep.”

He ran his hand over the back of his neck. “It’s going to be okay. We’re all going to leave together. You and Stuart will go one way. Beth and I will take Gunnar and the dogs the other. I’m counting on them to make enough noise to create confusion.”

“Who—the dogs or the reporters?” I tucked the shirt into my jeans and took a step toward him.

“Both.” He lifted his hand as if to touch me, but stopped short. “Getting you back into the building will be easier. The shop next door opens at noon today. They have a delivery entrance and access to the fire escape. From there, it’s four flights of stairs and a short jump to my deck.”

“I’m sorry I’ve caused you so much drama.” I stood close enough to smell the soap and aftershave on his skin. It took every ounce of my willpower to keep my hands to myself.

“Stop apologizing. Dodging the paparazzi is a small price to pay for time with you and Gunnar.” Leo reached for me again, only this time he didn’t drop his hand. He cupped my face and ran his thumb over my cheek. “Don’t go to Baton Rouge.”

“Leo…” Part of me wanted to stay, but I needed time and space to think things through. I couldn’t do that with either man. I wanted to go home, but between Robert’s threats and the stalker, that wasn’t possible.

“I know. I hurt you. It’s too soon.” He kissed my brow. “But promise me I can see you and the little guy on Christmas.”

Spending the holiday with my family meant a stuffy dinner at the governor’s mansion. On the other hand, the Marchionnis started celebrating with the traditional feast of the Seven Fishes on Christmas Eve, partied through New Year’s Day, and didn’t stop until the Feast of the Epiphany. It would be a blast, but it was out of the question. They didn’t know about Gunnar.

“My family will be expecting us.” I absolutely hated how complicated everything in my life had become.

“Ma’s planning to host everyone in Comiso this year.”

“You want us to go to Sicily?” I understood why Evelyn would want the Marchionnis in Italy for the holidays. It could very well be Leo’s father’s last Christmas.

“That would be incredible, but no. I thought we could celebrate here, just the three of us.”

My heart broke for him, for our son, and a little for myself. I followed him to the front room. “We could do breakfast and open presents before I go to my folks…or if I’m in Baton Rouge, I could bring Gunnar to visit you on Christmas Eve.”

“Sure, that sounds great. You should go before you’re late.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just so—”

“Complicated.” Leo smiled, but I knew his expression was a lie. He handed me Beth’s hoodie before turning to Gunnar. “Let’s get your jacket on, little man.”

“We go bye-bye?” He glanced between the adults.

Kneeling in front of him, I helped him with his coat. “You’re going for a walk with Leo and the dogs. I have a meeting, but I’ll be back soon. Okay?”

Gunnar ran to Leo and held up his arms. “Up.”

My vision blurred as Leo settled Gunnar on his shoulders. Father and son wore expressions of pure joy, and there I stood on the outside looking in.

Stuart turned to me. “We’ll give them a minute or two head start.”

“Sure.” I had serious doubts the plan would work, not to mention, second thoughts about going at all.

Beth clicked the leashes on the poodles and slid on an enormous pair of sunglasses. “Ready?”

“As ready as I’m going to be.”

Leo’s grin faded. “Dahl, we’ve got this. They’ll be too busy snapping pictures of me and Beth—”

“It’s not about the reporters.” My voice cracked.

He furrowed his brow. “Then what is it?”

Gunnar wanted no part of whatever was happening between the adults in the room. He grabbed Leo’s ears and used them like reins to steer his noble steed back toward the door. “Let’s go. Now.”

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