Page 5 of Single Mom's Guide to Love

She’s right. I did promise that.

“Sorry,” I say as I look back at the bar bustling with customers. “Maybe we weren’t as smart or ahead of the game as I thought.”

My attempt to lighten the situation doesn’t work. She turns back to look at the check-in counter, as if anything changed in ten seconds.

“I’m going out on a limb to say that you’re not good at being patient or not being able to control situations.”

Her eyebrow is raised as she turns back toward me. “Am I that transparent?”

I don’t know if she’s any more relaxed, but at least she’s distracted from the growing bustle of angry travelers. “Yes. But also, my best mate Kat is like that. I think there’s a picture of her in the dictionary next to ‘control freak.’”

“Sounds like my kind of woman,” Maeve says as she sips on her martini. “My siblings call me ‘Mama Maeve’ because of myneed to not only plan everything, but also to try and fix their problems.”

“Oh, you really need to meet Kat,” I say with a laugh. “I swear she derives far too much pleasure from controlling my life.”

“Well, I don’t know about pleasure. I think the only pleasure I’d get is that of relief if my siblings figured out, say, the holiday schedule without me.”

I quirk a brow. “Really? You’d be fine giving up control and letting others figure it out for themselves? No one knows who’s bringing the Christmas crackers…the Secret Santa wasn’t perfectly arranged so three people got themselves and never said anything…Or! Maybe they didn’t plan an itinerary. Or worse…they would say things like ‘come over whenever.’ Put that together with Grandma putting too much booze in the Christmas pudding and you have a day of disaster.”

She starts to speak, but stops herself as she visibly shudders. “No. You’re right. It would give me hives.”

I pick up my drink and tip it to her. “That’s what I thought.”

We share a smile and take sips of our drinks when her mobile vibrates on the bar.

“The hotel?” I ask as she looks at it then shakes her head.

And I let out a breath of relief. If it’s the hotel she’s gone. And I’m not ready for this night to be over yet.

“No. My sister,” she says, starting to type something back. “With the delay, I needed to mobilize the team to watch my son for the night and get him on the school bus tomorrow morning.”

“You have a son?”

“Yes. In first grade.”

I start to ask her if he’s a video game fan, but I don’t. I want to remain invisible as long as I can. “Is everything straightened out?”

She nods and puts her phone down. “Yes. My sister is going to spend the night at my house. Just so his routine can be somewhat normal in the morning.”

“Does your son also like things nice and organized?”

She shrugs. “I mean, he’s six. He understands the concepts of bedtime, school time, play time, and screen time. And he’s pretty good about staying on it when he’s with me. But I think that’s also because he knows when he’s with his dad that it’s a free-for-all. I swear, when he’s with him, it’s just a video game binge session.”

I fight the smile that’s threatening to pop. I wonder if he’s a SpaceCraft fan. He’s the perfect age range for it.

“Mom is the strict parent?”

I meant the question to be so we didn’t accidentally fall down talk of video games where I’d say something revealing, but the sigh she releases signals that I hit a nerve.

“My ex-husband is many things. Strict is not one of them.”

The way she clips the end of that sentence, I can tell she’s done with this line of questioning. Which is fine by me. I have a feeling if I hear any more about her ex I’ll want to do something like track him down, hack into his computers, and make his digital life very uncomfortable.

You don’t become a video game developer and not learn some hacking skills along the way.

Plus, the silence in conversation lets me take her in. Not that I haven’t done it a dozen times tonight, but every time I look at her, I swear she gets more lovely.

Her slender face has sharp features, but somehow she’s still soft despite the edges. Her hardness is only doubled down with her brown hair being slicked back into a tight bun. Her blue eyes are a sapphire that radiate against her ivory complexion.

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