Page 43 of Single Mom's Guide to Love

I’m sure I was, and poor Kat is the one who had to live through it.

Back in England, I wasn’t exactly a catch at secondary school. I was the captain and founder of the inaugural e-Sports team, and the only reason girls talked to me was to do their math homework. Or to see if they could use me to get to my brother, Callum.

But at Stanford I was an unknown. I could shed the reputation I carried back home and could become my own man. A new version of myself. And while the video game geek never went away, I did manage to stumble one day into the gym of the student recreation center.

I was hooked from that day on. I gravitated to the challenge of lifting weights. I loved the feel of the burn when pushing my muscles to the brink. Before I knew it, my body was developing in ways I didn’t know it could. And with that, I started getting attention from the girls I had never gotten before.

And like any other nineteen-year-old lad, I let it get to my head.

And my cock.

Yes, I maybe went a little hard, but in my mind, I was making up for lost time.

Oh, if the Logan from back then could meet the Logan now. That guy would’ve been champing at the bit to date models and celebrities. And laughing hysterically that I’d be willing to spend thousands of dollars just to be around a woman.

“I really do owe you for putting up with me all these years,” I tell her.

“Don’t worry. I figured that money into my contract negotiation.”

I laugh. “Of course you did.”

A buzzing sound comes through on the intercom system, notifying me that Maeve is at the gate. I mean, it could be someone else, but I’d have to tell them to bugger off.

“Thanks for stopping by, but you can leave now,” I say to Kat, wanting a few minutes to compose myself before Maeve enters.

“That’s not happening.” Kat gets up and starts making herself a drink from the cart she rolled in. From the looks of it, there’s hot and iced coffee, tea for me, and a few other options that I couldn’t tell you what they are.

“What do you mean?”

She tops off her coffee with some sort of syrup before stirring it with a metal straw. “I told one of the workers to let her in so I can stay right here. We can’t take the chance that she walks out again. We didn’t think we were getting this second chance. So I’m staying right here to do potential damage control. Plus, if you had it your way, you’d have your bedroom designed in superhero sheets. I need to make sure that doesn’t happen. Especially if you want Maeve to ever sleep in them.”

“I’d never do that,” I say, though I wonder if they make California King sized Batman sheets. “Now a movie room? That could be fun.”

She rolls her eyes at me when a knock comes from the door of my office. I try to take a hidden breath from Kat—she already has enough ammunition against me—but it catches in my throat the second Maeve walks in.

How is she even more gorgeous? Her brown hair is down today and in long waves. Her makeup is subtle, making her blue eyes pop. And the outfit she’s wearing? Bloody hell, I need to bite my lip to control myself. A fitted blouse that hugs her perfect tits. A pencil skirt that is so tight I don’t know how it’s not going to rip when she sits down. And the heels? I’d sell every share of every stock I have right now to feel those digging into my ass as I drove into her.

If this is how she’s going to come to work every day, maybe making her an offer she couldn’t refuse wasn’t the smartest move for my sanity.

Or my cock.

“Holy tension, Batman,” Kat whispers. “Hey! Jaw up. Remember to blink. And don’t fuck this up.”

“Shut it.” Hopefully Maeve didn’t hear my whisper-yell as I take a few steps toward her and extend my hand. “Good morning.”

Her eyes rapidly blink a few times when she puts together that I didn’t call her Love. And that I’m beginning this in the professional manner she suggested.

Designer and client…just like she asked. Little does she know I’m playing the long game here.

“Thank you again for coming over today. Coffee?”

“Yes, please,” she says before noticing the coffee cart, which I’m now noticing has more options than Starbucks. “Wait. What is all this? Logan…”

I hold my hands up in defense. “I know you said nothing extravagant or nothing over the top. You may notice there isn’t a breakfast buffet. But with the coffee, it’s simply not my morning beverage of choice, and I didn’t know what you liked, so we wanted to provide options.”

Her face softens just enough to assure me I didn’t go too far too quickly. Good thing she doesn’t know I set up a recurring order of Diet Coke for her. “Thank you.”

We stare at each other for a moment, a rush of electricity passing through us before Kat rudely interrupts us.

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