Page 85 of Hot Momosa

“It was chaotic this morning. Gunnar was having a tantrum. The dogs didn’t want to go in their crates. I was a complete basket case… I got a package from the stalker.” Not only had her shoulders tensed again, her voice quivered as if she might lose it.

I am definitely an idiot.

Drawing her into an embrace, I nuzzled against her cheek and whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m not blaming you. Shit happens.”

She nodded.

I pulled back enough to meet her gaze. “Artie let himself in?”

She tensed again. “Yes, but I don’t think he meant any harm. He must have gotten spooked when he heard us come home and hid in the shower.”

Bit by bit, I put together what had happened and didn’t like it. Mr. Guzman had some serious explaining to do.

“Why is Artie afraid of Gabe?”

“It’s a long story.” A long story I didn’t want to get into. “Speaking of Gabe…” I opened the front door and motioned for him to come back inside.

Dahlia took the boy from him but seemed to avoid looking him in the eye.

“Everything okay?” My brother glanced between us.

“Artie-freaking-Guzman is in the bathroom.” I couldn’t keep the frustration from my voice.

Gabe’s mouth fell open. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope.”

He had his reasons for not wanting to see our father’s former accountant, and I had mine. Dahlia, on the other hand, had no idea what the hell was going on. She rolled her eyes and walked down the hall, only to return a moment later with Artie.

It’d been a while since I’d seen the guy, but he hadn’t changed a bit. What had changed were my dogs. Normally, they would have been all over me demanding love, but the Three Poodle-teers hung close to their former master with their fuzzy little heads down.

They know. They know he’s going to take them home. And they want to go.

“Surprised to see you in New Orleans. Where are you living these days?” Gabe stepped closer to Artie, who stepped back.

“I’d rather not say. I…uh…just came for the dogs.” The poor guy’s voice shook. Not that I blamed him. Coming face-to-face with the man who had been ordered to oversee your murder would do that to the strongest of men, and Artie Guzman was far from strong.

Gunnar lifted his head from Dahlia’s shoulder. “Bad man.”

I couldn’t agree more. “Let me get this straight. You break into my house, terrorize my family, and you think I’m going to let you walk out of here with the poodles?”

Dahlia sighed. “Leo, they’re his.”

I hated that she was right, but damn it, I didn’t want to give them up. They’d seen me through the worst year of my life. Listened to me whine about losing her, missing my son, envying my brothers’ lives. I didn’t know what I’d so without my furry little therapists.

Things are different now. I have my family. He should have his.

As much as it killed me, I knew what I had to do. “Dahl, take Gunnar in the bedroom.”

“Oh God. No. Please.” Artie shuffled backward until his back hit the wall. “Don’t hurt me. I’ll…I’ll go. Keep them.”

“No one’s going to hurt you.” Did he actually think we’d rough him up with my son within earshot? I waited until Dahlia left the room. “The kid’s been through a lot lately. I didn’t want to upset him. Give me a minute to pack their things.”

Artie glanced from me to the hallway and back. “He’s yours?”

“He is and he loves the Three Poodle-teers.”

Artie snorted out a laugh. “Cute nickname.”

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