Page 112 of A Dish Best Served Hot

He was partially right. Lola had gotten it for the same reason she got her other tattoos, because it meant something so important to her that she needed to express it somehow. Even if it was just for herself. However, she also hoped that he’d see it and understand the true meaning behind it. “You know why,” she murmured.

“Tell me anyway.”

“Because you and Rosie make me feel whole, not alone. With you two, I have a real pride, a family.”

He rewarded her honesty with a kiss that was somehow deeper and more intense than all the rest. It zinged all over her body until it landed securely in her heart, spreading a sweet warmth to all her limbs, like slipping into a bath. It surrounded her surely as his arms did.

“I love you both so much.” She spoke against his lips. “I love Rosie and I love you. You’re my very own patron saint.”

“That’s blasphemy,” he said, but he smiled against her mouth.

“Ask me if I care.”

“Of course you don’t. You’re Lola León. You make your own rules.”

“Damn straight.” Lola marveled that this man knew her so well, loved her so well, and he was hers to keep.

EPILOGUE

“Oww! ¡Coño! That hurts.”

“Do it again anyway.”

Papo Vega looked up from the half-completed coloring page featuring a picture of the “Be Our Guest” scene fromBeauty and the Beast. He examined his grandsons.

Leo was currently growling at Saint, who was leading him through one of his many shoulder exercises. “This is fucking bullshit. This is supposed to make me feel better, not worse.”

“Watch your language around my daughter,” Saint said with more patience than Leo probably deserved at that point.

Rosie’s head popped up at the mention of her and she gave her uncle a pitying look.

Leo had been staying with Saint and Rosie ever since his release from the hospital and it was clear that everyone was ready for him to go home. His funny and lighthearted grandson had been replaced with a bitter and angry asshole, for lack of a better word. He was difficult to be around and snarled at everyone like the beast he was beginning to resemble. Everyone was letting him get away with it too, because he’d been shot. More so because he’d been shot protecting the family (although Papo still hated to call that asshat, Benny, family).

But what the family couldn’t see was that Leo didn’t want to be babied or treated like a hero. That was why, the more they ignored his behavior, the worse it became.

That was also why Papo refused to tiptoe around him. “When are you going to shave your face and cut your hair?” he asked Leo. “You look like a werewolf who got stuck in the middle of changing.”

“Better than looking like the Crypt-Keeper fromTales from the Crypt,” Leo shot back.

“How dare you? I still have all of my hair.”

“That’syour problem with what he just called you?” Saint shook his head.

“Who’s the Crypt-Keeper?” Rosie asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” Saint told her before anyone else could chime in.

“Yeah, I’ll show you later,” Leo said.

Saint gave him a death glare and Leo glared right back.

“You must really want the other side of your clavicle broken,” said a voice from behind them all.

Everyone turned just as Lola stepped fully into the kitchen and pushed the door closed behind her. Even though she moved quickly the humid air had rushed in reminding Papo that it was the hot and muggy beginnings of summer, which also probably contributed to Leo’s mood.

“Saint isn’t going to break my other shoulder. He’s my overprotective big brother.”

“I meant me,” Lola said. Sashaying up to Papo and giving him a kiss on the cheek while never taking her eyes off Leo. “Show Rosie anythingTales from the Cryptrelated and I’ll be the one breaking your other shoulder.”

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