“Fine.”

“Did you learn any new plays?”

Shrug.

“Meet any new friends?”

“Mom, I’m not six years old. It was fine, okay?”

Nathan took his cereal bowl to the sink and dropped it in there.

“In the dishwasher, please. I’m not your maid.”

“Whatever. I have to go get ready for practice.”

He rinsed his bowl and threw it in the dishwasher, then huffed out of the kitchen and into his room, where he slammed the door shut.

Delightful.

Tara let out a long sigh. Why didn’t parenthood come with a manual? There were no guidelines for dealing with a teenager, and she had no parents or siblings to go to for help.

Had she been this difficult at his age?

Probably.

Ugh. Then again, she was much nicer than her own parents had been. Point in her favor. Not that it was helping with Nathan. She could be pleasant to him or she could be surly, and neither seemed to impact him in any way. He had attitude down to an art form. No matter what she did or what she said, he was pissed-off about it.

He was turning fifteen in a less than a month. She should plan something fun for him, let him invite his friends over, and ...

And what? She had no idea what he liked anymore. He had his earbuds shoved in his ears and listened to music or played games on his laptop when he was home. Otherwise he played football and hung out with his friends. The kid wasn’t exactly a social butterfly. As far as she knew, girls hadn’t yet entered the picture.

As far as she knew. And admittedly, she didn’t know much, though she was determined to not be like her parents. Like it or not, she was going to be involved in her son’s life.

She chewed on a hangnail and nursed her cup of coffee, pondering how to reach her recalcitrant child who really wasn’t a child anymore.

He was almost fifteen. At fifteen she’d been partying with her friends and with boys. And she was getting pregnant, mainly because her parents were too busy with their own private demons to pay any attention to what she was doing with her life. And oh, how she’d screwed up her life.

Lord. She rubbed her temples and sent a silent prayer to God that history wouldn’t repeat itself.

No, it wouldn’t. She was on top of Nathan and what he was doing. She wouldn’t let him fall through the cracks. She loved her son, paid attention to his schoolwork and his after-school activities. It was only this past freshman year in high school that he’d gone quiet and sullen on her, and she’d chalked that up to hormones and puberty. She had to give him some space, hated those parents who laid a thumb over their kids, never giving them any freedom. So far, Nathan’s grades were good, and he hadn’t given her any reason to think he was in any kind of trouble.

She owed him her trust—until he gave her a reason not to trust him.

And she hoped to God she could trust him, because it was summer and she had to go to work and he was too damn old for a babysitter.

But at least he had football practice that would keep him busy for part of the day, and that was part of the day she wouldn’t have to worry about what he was doing or what kind of trouble he was getting into.

Which was another reason she couldn’t get involved in any kind of relationship right now. Nathan was her first priority. She had to stay on her toes, and frolicking with a hot guy like Mick Riley would definitely divert her focus away from Nathan. That she refused to do.

By the time she got into the office, she’d managed to shove worry over Nathan into the corner of her brain she normally compartmentalized him into. Always there, but not overpowering her every thought. He had a cell phone and knew he could call her in case of an emergency. Her office was ten minutes from home, so she could get there in a hurry if necessary.

The day went by in a flurry of meetings about clients and events. Thank God for her job and her clients, and for Maggie and the other women, who kept her sane.

By the time four o’clock rolled around, she was astounded the day was already gone. She sipped a cup of tea and went over paperwork and entered dates into the computer.

“Have you been seeing that hot quarterback any?”

Tara looked up to find Maggie making herself at home in her office.

Actually, it had been a week since that night on top of the mountain with Mick. He hadn’t called her. He said he would. Then again, he was a man. They’d had sex. He was popular and went through a ton of women, none of whom had children. Tara knew once she’d dropped that bomb on him, it would be the end of Mick Riley pursuing her.

It’s what she’d wanted. Still, it stung. Just a little.

Fortunately, she’d been too damn busy all week for it to bother her too much.

“No. Not seeing him at all. I told you we weren’t getting involved.”

“Uh-huh. He’s in the front waiting area.”

Tara shot forward in her chair and spilled drops of tea all over her paperwork. “Shit.”

Maggie laughed.

“Dammit, why didn’t you just tell me that?

Maggie grinned and grabbed a few tissues to blot the tea stains. “More fun this way.”

“Bitch.” Tara smoothed her hands down the front of her flowing black-and-white checkered skirt, adjusted the wide black belt, and was just vain enough to take a quick glance at her hair in the mirror over her desk.

Her blouse was tucked in and looked fine. She looked fine.

“What is he doing here?” she asked Maggie.

Maggie shrugged. “I’m sure I don’t know, but he looks good enough to eat.”

Tara rolled her eyes, moving around her desk toward her door. “You need a man of your own.”

Maggie sighed and followed Tara out of her office. “Don’t I know it.”

She was nervous as she walked to the front of the store. Mick stood there at the window, his dark hair highlighted by the sun streaming in. He was so tall, so imposing, so incredibly gorgeous. He turned when he heard her and smiled that dazzling smile that made her just a little bit weak in the knees.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi, yourself.”

Maggie came up next to her, and Tara had to turn and give her a look.

“Oh. Yeah. Paperwork. Later, Mick.”

Mick’s lips quirked. “Later, Maggie.”

“What are you doing here?”

“It’s been a week since I’ve seen you.”

“I realize that. Figured you’d moved on.” She almost bit her tongue clean off. Why did she have to say that? It sounded ... mopey and girlie and needy and all those things she’d rather not sound like.

“No, I just had some business things I had to take care of. I would have called you at night or come by your house, but you didn’t give me your cell number or your home address.”

She crossed her arms. “When has that ever stopped you? Couldn’t your oh-so-stealthy agent scout them out for you?”

“Actually, yes, she could have.” He cocked his head to the side. “I figured maybe you’d want to give them to me yourself this time. Maybe even invite me over to your house.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

“Because you like me.”

Telling him no was on the tip of her tongue. She’d just gotten to the point where she thought she’d never see him again.

And she’d spent the entire week missing him and feeling achy about not seeing him. How utterly pathetic, especially since she hadn’t wanted to start up a relationship with him in the first place.

“I’d really like to meet your son. Does he like football?”

She sighed. “He loves football.”

He moved in closer, picked up a strand of her hair, twirling the curling end between his fingers. “Invite me over for dinner. We’ll have pizza.”

“You don’t strike me as the pizza type.”

“Then there’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

No doubt. “That’s not a good idea.”

He leaned in closer. God, he smelled good. Her hormones noticed.

“Invite me over for pizza.”

“Would you like to come over for dinner tonight, Mick?” Damn hormones.

His smile could melt a woman straight into the floorboards.

“I’d love to. Give me your address.”

She jerked a piece of paper from the pad on the table and wrote her address.

“Might as well add your cell phone number, too.”

She did, then handed him the paper. “Six thirty okay?”

“Perfect.”

He leaned in and brushed his lips across hers, and her stomach did flip-flops. Her utterly girlie stomach. Dammit.

“See you then.”

He walked out. Tara stupidly stood at the window watching him walk across the street, his stride eating up the asphalt. He looked damn hot in a pair of cargo pants and a white T-shirt that stretched tightly over his mighty fine muscles.

Maggie’s sigh over her shoulder jolted her back to reality. She whipped around to face Maggie, Ellen, and Karie.

“What?”

“You’re dating the captain of the football team,” Karie said with a dreamy sigh.

Tara rolled her eyes. “Go back to work. All of you. This isn’t high school.”

“No, but it’s every girl’s dream from high school,” Ellen said with a laugh.

Her house was a disaster, the scourge of having an unsupervised teenager running amok during the day. Empty soda cans littered the tables in the living room, the sink was filled with dishes, and said culprit had already taken off for his friend’s house for the night.

The kid was going to be toast. She’d have him on housecleaning duty the rest of the week.

She picked up, ran the vacuum, tossed the dishes into the dishwasher, then dashed upstairs to change clothes, deciding Mick was either going to have to deal with her life and the state of her house or he’d leave, preferring the jet-set lifestyle of caviar, maid service, and supermodels.

Tara was neither caviar nor supermodelish, and she sure as hell didn’t have maid service. She was pizza on a Friday night, and the way she looked now, which was tank top, blue jeans, and flip-flops, with her hair wound into a messy ponytail thingy. He was going to have to take it or leave it.

She let out a low shriek when the doorbell rang, then hurried downstairs toward the door, shooting a glance at the clock as she took the stairs two at a time.

She was out of breath by the time she flung the door open, and Mick frowned.

“Asthma attack?”

“More like a panic attack. I was picking up the house and trying to make myself presentable.”

He walked in with a bouquet of flowers in his hand. “You look pretty presentable to me. These are for you.”

Wildflowers. Not a dozen roses, but daisies and bellflowers and lilies and freesia and baby’s breath. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

He followed her into the kitchen. “You didn’t strike me as a roses kind of woman.”

“I’m not a roses kind of woman. I love these.” She grabbed a vase and filled it with water, then arranged the flowers in it and put it on her dining room table.

“Where’s Nathan?”

“Not home.” She wasn’t about to tell him that Nathan was spending Friday night at a friend’s house. She wasn’t ready for Mick to meet him yet. It was too soon, and she wasn’t sure where she and Mick were headed. Hell, she wasn’t sure about anything. No way was she going to involve her son.

“I see.” He grabbed her around he waist and jerked her against him, then planted his lips on hers, giving her one seriously hot kiss that melted her feet to her kitchen floor. Tara sank into the kiss, forgetting all about where she was until Mick pulled away.

“Wow.”

He grinned. “Figured we wouldn’t get any alone time for that tonight, so wanted to get it in now.”

She blinked to clear her head. “Okay then.”

He looked around. “So show me your house.”

“It’s just a condo, Mick. Nothing fancy.”

He turned to her. “I live in a condo. Nothing fancy, either. So show me yours, and when you come to my place I’ll show you mine.”

His words evoked images of you show me yours and I’ll show you mine that had nothing to do with living space. She tried to suppress the tingle that rolled down her spine, but as she led him from room to room, she felt his eyes on her and wondered if he was really looking at her place or at her.

“You have a nice place, Tara.”

She shrugged. “I try to make a home for Nathan. And he’s a slob, so if you find stinky tennis shoes anywhere, blame him.”

He laughed. “You forget who you’re talking to. And I’m glad we’re not at my condo right now, because you probably would find smelly tennis shoes somewhere. So relax. The fact you have a teenage boy and he actually lives here isn’t going to send me running out the door. I was a teenage boy once. I get how they live.”

“Fine. I’ll try not to panic.” She took him through the living room and dining room.

“I don’t think you want to see the upstairs.”

“Sure I do. I want to see your whole house.”

She sighed. “Fine.”

They took the stairs, and again she felt his gaze on her. It wasn’t making her uncomfortable, exactly, just aware that she was alone in her house with a man. When was she ever alone in her house with a man?

Uh ... never? She never brought guys over, never wanted to parade a stream of men in and out of Nathan’s life. She figured if she’d ever thought about having a permanent relationship with a guy, she’d let him meet Nathan.

So why had she invited Mick over? They weren’t even really dating.

“There are three bedrooms up here. Nathan’s room, my room, and the third I use for an office. I should probably warn you about Nathan’s room ...”

“You can skip it. That’s his private domain, and I don’t want to violate it.”

She stood outside her bedroom door. “Oh, but you’d be fine with violating my private domain?”

He leaned over her and turned the door handle. “Honey, I’ve already violated your domain.”

There went that flutter again, her sex and her nipples all too aware they were entering her bedroom.

She stood back and let him look, figuring he’d take a cursory glance and they’d be on their way back downstairs.

“It looks like you.”

She stared at her bedroom, at the cream and brown comforter, the pictures on the walls, the photos of Nathan. She turned to Mick “Really? How?”

“Colorful. The art on the walls isn’t just some mishmash of crap. The textures of the two pictures over the bed bring out the colors in the bedspread. I like Mondine’s art, by the way. She’s trendy, but doesn’t paint that weird shit where you can’t figure out what the hell it is. The black-and-white photos of your son seem to capture his personality. He looks like he’s trying damn hard to be serious as hell and all grown-up, but he’s just a big goof and probably feels dorky a lot of the time. Curse of being almost fifteen. Cute kid, by the way.”

“Thank you.” Her voice caught because he’d so perfectly described her son’s early awkward teenage years.

“I can tell you put thought into each piece. Same thing with the knickknacks that you have spread throughout the house. It’s not overkill, just subtle touches. It’s not fussy; it’s simple. I don’t feel like I have to watch where I walk or where I would set a glass down. And I imagine your son is comfortable living here. Your place looks lived-in. It’s inviting.”

She stared at him for the longest time, until he laughed.

“What?” he asked.

“Who are you?”

“Huh?”

“No football player knows art and décor. And you know who Mondine is.”

“Oh. Well, blame Liz for that.”

“Liz?”

“My agent. She makes me go to gallery openings and museums and charity events for the arts—the kinds of things no football player should have to endure. You soak enough of it up, some of it sticks. Like this sculpture here,” he said, picking up the entwined lovers. “It says something about who you are as well as the artist.”

“What does it say about me?”

“That you know good art. I saw this at a gallery opening a few months back. It also says you’re a romantic.”

She sat on the end of her bed and looked at him. “There are sides to you that boggle me, Mick Riley.”

He sat next to her. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

She rubbed her temple. “I haven’t decided yet.” She knew he’d wowed her because he was way more complex than she’d given him credit for.

He pulled her onto his lap. “When you decide, let me know. In the meantime, I want to tell you how much I missed you this week.”

Just being close to him set her nerve endings firing, waking up all the female parts of her that had missed him, that craved his touch. The logical part of her, on the other hand, just knew this was a bad idea, especially since they were sitting on her bed. But she couldn’t get her damn body to listen to the signals from her brain that told her to get up. Instead, she wound her arms around his neck and snaked her fingers into the thick softness of his hair. “You missed me?”

“Yeah. If I’d had your number, I’d have called you.”

“I’m glad I gave you my number, then.”

“I missed being able to talk to you.”

“I like talking to you, too.” That was the truth. He made her laugh. He was smart and wicked funny. He was interested in her, in who she was as a person, not just as someone to have sex with. Men like him were so rare.

He rolled her onto the bed. “I thought a lot about kissing you.”

“Is that right?”

“That’s right.” He pressed his lips to hers, his tongue diving inside and taking her breath away, making her forget everything except his taste, his scent, the feel of his hard body next to hers. She slung her leg around his hip and brought him closer, already wet and needy as a hey-I-missed-you kind of kiss became something deeper, more passionate. She pulled his shirt out of his pants and slid her hand inside, pressing her palm against his hot abdomen, needing to touch his skin, to feel his pulse beating against her hand.

Mick rolled her over onto her back, his body on top of hers as he moved his lips from her mouth to her jaw, his tongue sliding to her neck. She shivered as he applied suction there.

“That makes my nipples hard.”

He pulled her tank top up. “Does it? Let’s see.”

He jerked her bra up over her breasts, smiled up at her, and covered one nipple with his mouth. She arched against the wet heat and the way he gently sucked her nipples.

Yeah, she’d missed him a lot. And now that he was here, she had a sudden quaking need to feel him inside her.

“Mick, please. Fuck me.”

Instead, he popped the button of her jeans and unzipped them, then kissed his way down her belly.

Tara gripped the comforter with both hands, her entire body taut with tension and need as he dragged her jeans and panties down her legs. He spread her legs and crawled between them, draping them over his shoulders and planting his mouth over her sex.

“Did you touch yourself this week?” he asked, looking up at her.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Too busy.”

“You should never be too busy to come, Tara.”

“I need to come now.” She reached down and slid her fingers into the softness of his hair.

“I like that you haven’t come since you were with me.” He kissed her thigh, then put his mouth on her.

“Ohhhh” was all she could manage as he licked the length of her sex, his tongue and lips finding her clit. She was so ready for an orgasm she arched against him, leaning forward to touch him, to watch as he licked her, sucked her, slid his tongue inside her, and did every possible thing he could to take her right over the edge. He swirled his tongue over the most sensitive spot, relentless in taking her right there only to ease off until she was panting and begging to come.

And when she tugged at his hair, he fit his mouth around her and rolled his tongue flat and gave her just what she needed.

“Yes. I’m coming.” She pushed her pussy against his face and he held her hips while she came in hot, sweet waves that rolled over and over, stopping her breath. And when she fell to the mattress he was right there, climbing up her body to kiss her, to let her taste the sweetness of her own pleasure. She wrapped her arms around him and licked his lips and chin, taking one hand down his body to palm his cock.

“Now fuck me. Hurry.”

He pulled a condom out and flipped her over the edge of the bed onto her stomach. He entered her hard and fast, and she gasped, chills breaking out on her skin.

She rose up, and Mick smoothed his hands down her back as he eased out and thrust inside her again. He leaned over and swept her hair to the side, pressing his lips to the nape of her neck.

“You’re wet. Do you know how wet and tight and hot you are?”

She didn’t think his question required a response. She was too busy gasping as he moved inside her, so she couldn’t have answered him. Her only reply was moving back, giving him more access to her.

Mick grabbed her hips to draw her against him. He leaned over to cup her breasts, pounding inside her with hard thrusts now. Tara fisted the comforter and braced herself against the edge of the bed as he pushed deep, then retreated, each time faster than before, each time taking her higher, his shaft seeming to swell inside her, brushing all her sensitive tissues.

She wanted to come with him inside her. She moved her hand between her legs and rubbed her clit, so filled with him that just touching herself made her climax draw closer.

Mick slowed down and took it easy then, wrapping one arm around her waist and rocking against her in an easy rhythm, seeming to know what she needed. She felt the pulses, felt her pussy grip him in a tight vise as she rolled over the edge with him.

He groaned and tightened as he thrust over and over again. Tara cried out with her orgasm until they were both spent, her facedown on the bed and Mick lying on top of her back.

She breathed in and out, enjoying the feel of him against her. She felt dizzy, elated, took her time to get her bearings as she opened her eyes just as her phone rang.

“You going to answer that?”

“I should. It might be Nathan.”

She grabbed her jeans and fished her cell phone out. It was Nathan. She blushed as she answered, even though Nathan couldn’t know Mick was here.

“Hey.”

“Hey, Mom. I forgot my key, so I just wanted to make sure you were home.”

She shot off the bed. “Your key? Why?”

“I need to get a game I left there. Be home in about ten minutes.”

“Uh, okay.”

“Shit!” she said, grabbing her panties and jeans as she clicked off the phone.

“What?”

“It’s Nathan. He’s coming home.”

Mick’s lips lifted. “Oh. Sooner than you thought?”

“No. He wasn’t supposed to be here at all. He was spending the night at his friend’s house.”

“So. You got me over here with false pretenses, huh?”

“Oh, shut up and get your clothes on.”

She dashed into the bathroom and turned on the faucet, threw a washcloth at Mick, who grinned as he walked by her. How dare he look so relaxed and at ease?

She cleaned up in record time, put her wild, sex-crazed hair back in a ponytail, and splashed cold water on her flushed face, then practically dragged Mick out of her bedroom and down the stairs.

“Okay, kitchen,” she said, out of breath as she dashed into the kitchen and started making tea.

“Would you relax? He’s not here yet, is he?”

“No. But my God, he could have walked in. What were we thinking?” She shook her head as she filled the pot with water.

He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. “I don’t know about you, but I was thinking how good it felt to be inside you.”

She shoved him with her hip. “Stop that.”

“Mom! I’m home!”

She jerked around and plastered on a smile. “In here.”

If only her heart would stop frantically slamming against her chest, she might not drop into a dead faint.

Nathan came into the kitchen, took one look at her and then at Mick, and his eyes widened.

“Holy shit.”

“Nathan, watch your language.”

“You’re Mick Riley.”

Mick smiled and went to shake Nathan’s hand. “I am. And you’re Nathan. Nice to meet you.”

Nathan swallowed, and Tara was sure she’d never seen her son so incredibly starstruck before.

“I take it you know who Mick is?”

He didn’t even glance at her, just kept his stunned gaze focused on Mick. “Duh, Mom. I’m not a moron.”

Mick pulled out a chair and sat. Nathan sat in the chair next to his. “Your mom says you play football.”

“Yeah. Junior varsity since I’m just a freshman. Well, I’ll be a sophomore in the fall.”

“I played JV as a freshman, too. Didn’t make the varsity team until I was a junior.”

They started gabbing away about football, which gave Tara a minute to get her heart rate under control. Okay, disaster averted. Her son hadn’t found her and Mick in the middle of wild monkey sex. Good Lord, where had her common sense gone? She never brought a man over to the house, let alone had sex with him there.

Mick was a very bad influence on her.

“So where did you two meet?”

“Your mom planned an event for our team a couple weeks ago.”

Nathan shifted his wide-eyed gaze to her. “You did?”

Tara brought tea to the table. “I did.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“I believe I mentioned it. More than once, as a matter of fact. You might try listening when I talk about my job.”

Nathan shrugged. “Your job is mostly boring.”

“Evidently not,” Mick said, “or you wouldn’t have missed the part about her catering an event for my team. She might have even finagled you an invitation if you’d been paying attention.” Mick elbowed Nathan. Nathan had the decency to bow his head and blush.

“Yeah, okay, so maybe I should have been listening. Anything else good coming up, Mom?”

“Sadly, no. Unless you want to accompany me to a luncheon for the city council. Or maybe a garden party for the Daughters of the American Revolution?”

Nathan shook his head. “No, thanks. I’d rather have my legs waxed.”

Mick laughed. “Can’t say as I blame you, buddy.”

Tara ordered pizza, and Nathan somehow managed to finagle invitations for a “couple” of his best friends to come over. Tara balked at that, but Mick said he didn’t mind. Before she knew it, five teenagers were hanging on Mick’s every word and devouring the ten pizzas she’d ordered, which Mick had insisted on paying for. Once the ravenous horde of teens and one very hungry adult male had been satiated, Mick sat in the living room with Nathan and his friends crowded around him, and they talked nonstop football.

Tara leaned against the wall and listened. Mick seemed so at ease with the kids, didn’t mind answering the barrage of questions, and she hadn’t heard her son talk this much since he was six years old. Of course, it wasn’t like she routinely talked football with him, either. After all, she was his mother. And a girl. So many points against her, whereas Mick was made of hero. He was a football star, and he never had to do the dirty work like tell her son to do his homework or ground him for not making his curfew.

So unfair.

“And what about Gavin? Is he as awesome as he seems?” Nathan asked.

Tara mentally ran through the list of all of San Francisco’s players and came up blank. She thought she knew them all. “Who’s Gavin?”

Nathan shot her a look that said she was a complete idiot. “Gavin Riley, Mom.”

“Uhhhh ...”

Tara shifted her gaze from Mick, who looked amused, to Nathan, who looked appalled.

“Mom, Gavin Riley is not only Mick’s younger brother, he’s also a professional baseball player. First base? Plays for Saint Louis, which, by the way, is also Mick and Gavin’s hometown? What planet are you living on, anyway?”

“Mars, apparently,” Tara said, shooting a helpless look to Mick, who laughed.

“I don’t think she’s required to know every player in every sport, Nathan. And your mom and I just recently started going out, so she doesn’t know my bio as well as you do.”

“Yeah, but if she’s going out with you, she sure as hell should know who your brother is.”

“Language, Nathan,” Tara shot back.

Nathan just shrugged.

“We’ve mainly been just talking about each other, not getting into family history, Nate,” Mick said with a smile that was directed at Tara.

The guys ooohed and ahhed in a very adult way. Nathan cast a curious look at Tara that made her want to slink out of the room.

“That is gross. So anyway, about that game with Green Bay ...”

Saved by football. Tara slipped out of the room before any other embarrassing topics about her and Mick came up. Tara let Mick enjoy the adoration of teen boys for a while longer, until he found her in the kitchen doing dishes. At least she hoped the guy sliding his arms around her was Mick. She turned around when he kissed her neck.

“You don’t have to hide in here,” he said.

She dried her hands on the kitchen towel and backed away. “I didn’t want to get in the middle of such hero worship.”

“Good kids. But like all boys, they tend to want to be the center of attention. I’m dating you, not them. And you have a right to assert yourself.”

“I didn’t mind. Where are they now?”

“I sent the fan club home. Nathan is upstairs working out some plays for tomorrow’s practice with his buddy, then they’re taking off. He said he has practice tomorrow, so I told him he should be asleep by eleven.”

Tara heard the heavy stomping of feet down the stairs. Nathan and Devon appeared in the kitchen.

Her son was smiling. Grinning, even.

“We’re outta here. Bye, Mom. See ya, Mick.”

“See ya, Nathan,” Mick said. “Don’t forget to get some sleep.”

Nathan saluted. “You got it.”

After he left, Tara snorted. “Lights out at eleven? Yeah, right. Like that’s going to happen.”

“It will. He promised me.”

She arched a brow. “You’re serious. He’s actually going to sleep at eleven.”

Mick shrugged. “I gave my speech about growing boys and athletes needing sleep and how much football practice takes out of a body every day, especially in the summer. I can guarantee at eleven p.m., he and his friend will go to sleep.”

Tara leaned back. “I’m ... stunned. I can’t tell you how often I fight with him about going to bed at a decent hour.”

“I was a teenage boy once. I know how hideous we are and I apologize for my gender.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “Apology accepted.”

“Good. Now come sit down with me and relax.”

He dragged her into the living room, turned on the television, and flopped down on the couch, then expected her to snuggle up with him.

She hesitated.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t bring guys over here.”

He propped his feet up. “Why not?”

She sat on the chair instead of the couch with him. “I don’t know. I just ... don’t.”

“So you think it’s wrong for your son to know you have a guy over watching television with you?”

She stared at him. “Mick. I don’t know. I don’t ... date.”

“He’s fourteen, Tara.”

She chewed her bottom lip. “His birthday is next month.”

“So you’re telling me that he’ll be fifteen next month, and you’ve never brought a guy over? In how long?”

“What do you mean?”

“What about his dad?”

She hesitated. “He’s not part of Nathan’s life now.”

He studied her. “How long has his dad been out of the picture?”

“Oh.” She looked down at her hands for a few seconds.

“I’m prying. Sorry.”

“His dad’s never been in the picture.”

“Ever?”

“No.”

“Bastard.”

She shuddered an inhale and lifted her gaze to his. “Long story.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Not tonight.”

“Okay. But still, you’ve got a right to have a life.”

She shrugged. “I’ve been busy, first when Nathan was little, and then with my education, and now trying to get my career going.”

“Again, you need to have a life. And it’s okay to bring a date over now and then.”

When he put it like that, it sounded ridiculous and provincial. “I just never wanted to be the kind of single parent who paraded a bunch of guys in and out of his life.”

“And you haven’t, have you?”

“No.”

“Then come over here and let’s watch a movie. I promise not to ravish you.”

“Well, where’s the fun in that?”

He liked this woman. Really liked her. And he liked her kid, too. She was a good mother; he could tell. She wasn’t out for her own pleasure. She took care of her son and his needs, obviously didn’t party to the detriment of Nathan’s welfare, and was actually one of those women who put her kid first.

And this was so far out of his element he had no idea what he was doing.

An hour and a half into the movie and she was zonked out on his shoulder, lightly snoring, which he found incredibly—real. No woman Liz would fix him up with would be caught dead with her mouth open and snoring on his shoulder, let alone her hair sticking out the sides of her ponytail.

He adjusted and laid Tara’s head in his lap. God, she was cute. Not drop-dead gorgeous in the sense that he was used to. He’d had plenty of stunning women on his arm before. But he liked that Tara was just ... normal and pretty. And she snored. Yeah, he really liked that about her.

She snorted once and then rolled over onto her side, drawing her knees up toward her chest. Mick grabbed the blanket from the top of the couch and covered her with it.

She didn’t wake up, was probably exhausted. He wondered how long she’d been doing everything alone. Raising a kid by herself? Man, there couldn’t be anything easy about that, and she didn’t say anything about her family.

Nathan seemed like a nice kid, too. So did his friends. Which meant she was doing everything right. Alone.

As if he didn’t like a lot about her already, he had to go and start admiring her, too.

Yeah, he was in big trouble with this woman.