The Player and the Single Mom

“I like this for you, Mama. The whole younger man thing. You need this.” Ava nodded like a sage who had seen something of life.

Her complete confidence that she knew something about anything made me nuts, but I was glad she wasn’t angry.

Marigold, on the other hand, was sucking her thumb.

I wasn’t surprised. I wasn’t thrilled, but it was what it was.

I bent down to pick her up, which instantly made me nauseous. I winced as I put my hands under her armpits and tried to haul her up to my hip. She suddenly seemed like she’d gained ten pounds overnight. I couldn’t even get her six inches off the floor. I set her back and braced myself for another attempt.

“Hey, who wants ice cream?” Cash asked. “There’s that new place that just opened up in Franklin.”

“Oooh, ice cream,” Marigold said, pulling away from me and running to Cash.

He picked her up with zero effort and threw her up into the air. “Ice. Cream.” He shook her gently to each word, making her giggle.

Thank you, I mouthed to him.

He winked at me.

Maybe there was a real advantage to having a baby daddy eight years younger than me.

I really needed to find a better label for him than baby daddy.

Ava came up to me and gave me a side hug. “I told you that you needed a boyfriend.”

I guess Cash Young was my boyfriend.

How completely ridiculous was that?

“I don’t need a boyfriend,” I told her, determined not to raise a daughter who thought she had to have a man. Besides, it was true that I didn’t need anyone. I could do this on my own. I had been doing it on my own for the last three years. But I’d been insane to not at least explore what it would be like to be with Cash.

I stole a glance at Cash, who was heading toward the door with a laughing Marigold under his arm like a football. “I just wanted this one in particular.”