Page 8 of Single Mom's Guide to Love

Because yes, I’ve quite enjoyed being just a guy in a bar having drinks and conversation with a stunning woman. But I can’t let her think I’m someone I’m not. I’ve always been unapologetically me, so it’s time to come out from behind the curtain.

So as much as I’ve enjoyed just being Logan from Birmingham, it’s time she knows who I am.

“Have you heard of the video game SpaceCraft?”

It takes her a second to acknowledge what I’m saying, though I think the bottle of gin she’s consumed tonight has something todo with that. “My son plays that. And when I say play, I mean is obsessed.”

I smile and hold out my hand. “Logan Matthews, developer of SpaceCraft and CEO of GameTech, also known as the company that developed it. So actually, I’m worth ten figures, and it’s not for clock radios. Though we do have consoles with an alarm and clock in them, if you’re in need of one.”

She’s too stunned to laugh at my clearly hilarious joke. “And as for being in finance, I stay as far away from the books as possible. I only do enough math to code a game.”

It’s entertaining to watch her jaw drop as I lay out my confession. I’ve never told anyone about me like this, and it’s quite fun to watch the realization play over her face.

“Also, I never schedule a meeting that could be an email. Actually, I prefer to never have any meetings, if at all possible. Oh, and yes, while my assistant does handle many things for me, she’s compensated handsomely, as are my other employees.”

She thinks I’m done, but I curl my finger, asking her to come closer. When she does, I breathe her in, wanting to memorize the hints of vanilla and amber. “The only cliché thing about me is that from the second I saw you in the bar, I couldn’t stop wondering what it would be like to make you scream and come apart underneath me. Which makes me no different from every man you’ve ever met.”

She shakes her head, but doesn’t pull back. “Men don’t think of me like that.”

“Then they are all bloody fucking fools.”

guide to love rule #92

One-night stands don’t count when they’re in different zip codes from where you live.

3

maeve

His lips are right there.

Inches away from me.

If I moved ever so slightly, they’d be on me, touching me in a way I haven’t been in such a long time.

Can I do it? Should I do it? I told myself years ago, after my divorce, that men weren’t worth it and I needed to focus on my son. So I did what any single mom would do—I swore off the opposite sex and everything to do with them.

That means sex. Dates. Anything. They were out of my life until an unknown future date and time.

Is that time now?

No…can’t be. When I made that rule for myself, I figured it would be when Jayce was at least a teenager, not the first grade. And until this night, I’ve never even considered ending my self-made sexual hiatus.

But I’d be a fucking liar if I said I wasn’t attracted to Logan. Or how I want nothing more than to feel his lips on mine.

Or on other places…

But just as I’m about to move in ever so slightly, hoping he comes in the rest of the way, my phone vibrates loudly on the bar next to me.

The buzzing snaps us both out of the spell and I quickly grab it, hoping it’s the hotel telling me my room is ready so I can leave this situation before I get myself into a lot of trouble.

Except when I look at the phone, it’s not the hotel. It's a FaceTime from Jayce.

“Hey, buddy,” I say, looking around to see if there’s somewhere quiet. “Hold on one second, okay?”

I lower the phone and signal to Logan that I’m going to step outside to take the call. It’s still raining pretty hard, but luckily I see an awning that appears to be keeping the rain out. I take a deep breath as I hurry to it, allowing the air of the storm to cool me off from the stuffy bar and hotel.

And the presence of Logan.

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