The Player and the Single Mom

Apparently he wasn’t overwhelmed by the urge to kiss me like I was him.

When I went in the restroom I had a good idea why. I looked like roadkill. Going into a stall, I delicately and carefully changed into my sundress, leaving my slides on. It was an improvement over the giant sweatshirt and leggings, but still practical. I wish I had thought to layer up with a cute sweater instead of my enormous coat, but I had little travel experience.

In the mirror, I slapped on some light coverage foundation, gave myself some eyebrows and eyelashes, and took my hair out of its messy bun. Finally, I swiped on tinted lipgloss and walked back out, determined to keep my nerves at bay.

Cash was waiting for me. “I got you some Sprite and ginger chewing gum. It’s supposed to be good for your stomach.”

Honestly, could he be any nicer? I wanted to speak to his mother to learn her secrets of success in raising a thoughtful son. “Thank you.”

Also, here I was hoping he would kiss me when I had just told him I felt sick. That I was going to throw up. What man in his right mind would slip me the tongue after that?

Yeah. I was not exactly excelling at seduction. I crammed a piece of ginger gum in my mouth.

Auntie Sera needed to invite in only sexy energy for the rest of this damn trip.

Cash

It wasa relief when we were finally in our seats on the plane. Sera had been a bundle of nervous energy since we’d arrived at the airport. She had talked all through my breakfast about nothing in particular and she had asked a million questions about the airport, flying, the resort. I was shocked that she’d never flown before and I wish I had known.

I could have prepped her a little better. Given her advice. Taken a later flight so she could have a glass of wine first. Anything.

Because now we were supposed to be going on a trip that would be nothing but sex, nonstop, and Sera thought she was going to throw up.

And I was a nice guy. Sweet.

Which wasn’t a bad thing when you were dating someone. It wasn’t the best when you were consumed with thoughts of nailing her against the nearest wall.

We weren’t exactly killing the vibe.

She seemed more relaxed in the sundress at least. Like she had shed a layer of “mom” by taking off the yoga pants.

“So this is first class?” she whispered, swiveling her head to try to eyeball coach behind us.

I had the aisle because of my long legs but I was currently unable to stretch out because other passengers were still boarding. “This is business class,” I told her.

She turned back and looked at me.

“What?” I asked.

“I’m waiting for you to make a dad joke about taking care of business.”

“Not my style.” It might be sometimes. But not today. I was already sweet. I didn’t need to add dad humor to that. “Do you want something to drink?” I asked. “The flight attendant is making her way around business class.”

“What are my choices?”

“Basically anything. Water, coffee, juice, a soft drink, a Bloody Mary. Wine, if you want.”

“How much are they?”

“They’re free.” Just padded into the substantially higher price of the ticket.

“Shut up. That’s crazy.” Sera looked out her window. “I want a Bloody Mary. I need something to take the edge off. I’m still nervous.”

I didn’t drink in the morning, but it didn’t sound like a bad idea at the moment.

When the flight attendant approached, I ordered a Bloody Mary. When she asked Sera what she wanted, she didn’t get a response. Sera was texting furiously on her phone.

“Sera,” I said. “She asked you what you want to drink.”

“Hm?” She looked up. “Oh, sorry, I was texting the kids in case we die and they’re left orphans. A Bloody Mary, please.”

“A big one,” I said, giving the flight attendant a look, as if she could help me. “Damn, Sera, no one is dying today. The kids are not going to be orphans.”

“You don’t know that. It’s okay, they’ll be fine. My sister can raise them and she’s a better mother than me anyway.” Tears were suddenly in Sera’s eyes and her lip was trembling.

I sat up in alarm.

“Two Bloody Marys. On it,” the flight attendant said and turned away quickly.

“Hey,” I said, squeezing her knee. “Do you want to get off the plane before the doors close? I don’t want you to do this if you don’t want to.”

“Are you trying to bail?”

Hardly. “No. Absolutely not. But I don’t want you terrified and I don’t want you to have regrets. You’re obviously upset.”

“I’m upset that here I am on my first real vacation with a big sexy man who almost made me come just from rubbing against me and I ruined it right off the rip. There’s me saying I look like your mom and I’m going to throw up and blah, blah, blah. Both completely unsexy topics. No wonder you haven’t kissed me or said anything about fucking.”

Her voice was a little loud to be dropping f-bombs on a crowded plane but I didn’t want to say anything and upset her further. Instead, I felt relieved that she wasn’t sorry she was here, she was sorry we weren’t already having sex.

Almost made her come on New Year’s Eve? I didn’t hate hearing that.

“You haven’t ruined anything.” I turned and took her hand in mine. I stroked her soft skin with my thumb. “Maybe six weeks was too much lead time. Maybe you got in your head about it.”

“Oh, I’m in my head about it,” she said, nodding urgently and wiping her eyes. “I’m so in my head and it’s a scary, scary place in there, Cash. I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t have a single clue. Not one.”

“Take your panties off,” I said.

She blinked, her sniffles instantly stopping. “Excuse me?”

“You’re wearing some, right?”