The Player and the Single Mom

ChapterFour

Sera

Leaning back against my seat, I rolled my head, feeling much more relaxed. That had been awesome. Astonishing. Liberating. I sighed and eyed Cash, who looked very smug about the situation. I wasn’t even mad about that. He deserved to be smug. “I recommend orgasms for anyone afraid of flying. It beats booze hands down.”

Cash grinned. “Hands down?”

“Unintended pun. And for the record, don’t call me girl. I’m too old for that.”

“I can’t call you ma’am, I can’t call you girl… what am I supposed to call you?”

“Sera works.”

“Sera is for everyone. I want a pet name for you to make you feel more comfortable with me.”

That made me laugh. As if I was a pet name type. “I’m very comfortable with Sera, but thanks for being so considerate.”

“How about boo? I know you won’t like babygirl. How about sweetcheeks? Angel face? Lobster?”

He could not be serious. One look over at his face proved he was not. “I’ve never seen this side of you,” I told him. “You’re being playful and you’re not even the one who had an orgasm.”

“I have more sides than my noted calmness.”

I studied him. “Yeah? Well, I have more sides than the frazzled flour-covered nutjob.”

“I don’t think you give yourself enough credit,” he said. “You hold it together pretty well, all things considered. I mean, you weren’t thrilled but you didn’t exactly freak out when I fell through your window.”

“I was screaming internally.” I had actually been shocked that a grown man would be playing football so enthusiastically that he wouldn’t notice he was perilously close to a picture window.

Then again, football was his passion, his paycheck. He probably took it seriously every time he touched the ball.

The corner of his mouth turned up. “It was an accident, ma’am.”

I laughed. I didn’t mean to. But I couldn’t prevent it from slipping out. “Just stop. Thank you though for so quickly replacing the window you busted with your giant body. The old one was forty years old. This one retains the living room heat much better.”

“I’m glad it worked out. See, this giant body has its uses.”

“I can’t wait to learn more.”

“Me either.” He ran his knuckles down my cheek. “You’re very beautiful.”

I actually found myself wanting to blush. Like I was sixteen. It was ridiculous.

I had three kids and his fingers still had the scent of my sex on them. This was an arrangement, not blush-worthy. “I always assumed you were more shy than you’re proving to be.”

“I don’t know why people say that about me. Isn’t shy what you are when you’re seven? I’m quiet, sure, and I’m not a narcissist. Sometimes I’m not even that quiet, though. I just don’t need to be the center of attention.”

He had a good point. He definitely was confident, but in no way a narcissist. Which was a good chunk of the reason I liked him. “I guess I just thought since you don’t have a girlfriend and I never see or hear anything about you flirting or hooking up with women that you’re… reserved. You’re not like that with me at all.”

“Oh, we’re talking about male-female relationships? I thought we were just talking general personality.”

I wasn’t sure what we were talking about. I felt like I was suddenly fishing, and I didn’t mean to do that. “Never mind, I don’t know what I’m saying.”

But Cash kept talking. “I don’t like going to strip clubs or bars or clubs where it’s all so phony. Women pretending they like me when it’s really about my money or some other reason that has nothing to do with me as a person. That all makes me uncomfortable. I prefer to get to know someone in a more traditional environment.”

The flight attendant came over then with a little tray and a server’s pad and I was grateful for the interruption. She asked us if we wanted the egg croissant or the granola cereal for breakfast.

To my surprise, Cash ordered the egg croissant. He’d already eaten breakfast. But I guess he burned a lot of calories in his day job. I requested the granola. I probably needed to have more in my stomach than coffee and a Bloody Mary.

When he squeezed my knee before putting my tray down for me for my pending cereal, I felt a tinge of jealousy for the lucky woman in the future who would marry Cash and have a family with him. He was truly a good guy.

“You can call me Serafima if you want,” I said. I considered that a gift of trust.

“What?”

“My full name.”

“That’s your full name?”