Page 3 of Hard Hat Hottie

Last summer I reached out to Matt, asking him to come help while I attempted to create a secure environment so Mom could remain in my home. He never hesitated, and shortly thereafter, Joyce came onto the scene. She has a real calming spirit about her. She has a way of communicating with my mother, where Matt and I still struggle. She’s a soothing, tranquil presence in my mother’s life. In all our lives, to be honest. One I hadn’t realized I needed. I’m aware the day may come when I have to re-evaluate our current situation, but for now, I’m simply grateful I can have my mother home with me.

Even if it makes for a lonely existence when Mom is trapped in her own head.

“Hey, boss, we’re gonna knock off for the night,” Vincent bellows from the ladder, the familiar rhythmic clank of work boots against metal as he descends before making his way to his car.

Glancing at my watch, I notice it’s 6:55 p.m. Hell, this day really got away from me. I give another colleague a curt wave before returning to my call. “Hey, Matt, I’m going to wrap things up here and head home.”

“Holy shit, you’re still at work this late?”

“Yeah. The weather’s thrown us off schedule lately. Trying to catch up where we can.” We normally finish up around 4:30, but with the recent afternoon thunderstorms blowing through the southern coast of Florida, we’ve been attempting to make up for lost time. Reaching behind my neck, I pull my soaked T-shirt over my head and wipe my brow. “I’m going to pick up some food on the way home. If you can keep your hands off your girl long enough, give me a call later. Okay?”

He snickers. “Not making any promises, but I’ll try. It’s been too long, bro. We need to come pay you guys a visit.”

“You’re right. You’re overdue.” My heart clenches. I miss this guy more than he knows. His life is full with a job he loves, his brotherhood of firefighters, and Ellie. A stark reminder that I’m basically just going through the motions. But I’m committed to providing for my mother. And I’m tired of putting my trust in fickle bitches who don’t understand my priorities.So, it is what it is. Isolated or not. I rub concentric circles over the location of the recurrent ache that’s returned to my chest. “Talk later?”

“Yeah. Definitely. We’ll grab a beer and a video chat.”

As the call ends, I bend to gather my things and try to push away the emptiness I feel. If things get bad enough, I can always ask Joyce for an extra night with Mom so I can try to hook up with a tourist at The Wild Shrimp. It’s a local hangout, but we get plenty of vacationers there who won’t be looking for more than one night.

At least I hope not.

Yet honestly, one-night stands haven’t done much for me lately. The work of finding a woman with enough physical chemistry to be worth dealing with the before and after can be exhausting. I’m too old to be excited by the chase. And the work of remaining anonymous or simply aloof can get tiresome. The itch has to get pretty bad for me to want to scratch it anymore. It’s almost easier to take care of business on my own.Jesus, what’s happened to me?Who knew thirty-one years of age was old enough to cause my libido to dry up?

Returning my phone to my back pocket, I glance down to find my crew making their way to their cars so they can head home to their loved ones, tools in hand. I reach to massage my stiff neck muscles, stretching my sore back, preparing to face another quiet night alone when my eyes land on the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.

It’s her.

The curvy, brown-haired beauty with colorful tattoos trailing down her left arm, reminding me of the silvery scales of a mermaid. I have no idea what it is about this particular creature that steals the very air from my lungs every time I see her. Sure, she’s stunning. But I’ve met a bevy of beautiful women in my life. And growing up in Candy Cane Key, Florida, tanned, tattooed women aren’t unique.

Yet, there’s something different about her. It’s as if I can feel her presence when she’s near. And though we’ve never spoken, it’s as if an entire conversation occurs with one look from her eyes to mine. Are they green? Blue? Gray? I’ve yet to be close enough to tell for sure. And if she has this effect on me from a distance, what the hell would she do to me if I was up close and personal? My dick twitches at the sheer thought of it.

With fantasies of this sexy siren, who needs a disappointing hookup with a random, nameless tourist?

As if she can hear me, this striking woman’s eyes hold mine as she walks closer to the emergency room entrance. And just before she moves out of sight, a dazzling smile curls the corners of her mouth. Suddenly, the hollowness in my chest has dissipated. One look from her is all I need to send my night on a whole new trajectory.

If she only knew the things I’ll be doing to her later.

CHAPTER TWO

HARLOW

“C’mon, boys. Grab your backpacks and get down here. Your dads will be here soon.” Reaching for the coffeepot, I pour a second steamy cup as if I’m on autopilot. It feels like ages since I’ve slept well.

Lately, my shifts at the hospital have fluctuated between morning and night hours, throwing off my usual schedule. But vacations and maternity leave require every nurse to be flexible in order to cover the needs of the emergency room. I’m so ready to get back to normal. When you’re a single mother of two rambunctious boys, having a dependable routine is a must. But life doesn’t always go according to plan. Add to this, it’s my exes’ weekend with their kids, and everything has felt even more off-kilter.

Handing my children off to their fathers never gets easier, despite the constant self-talk that it’s good for Alec and Justin to spend quality time with both parents. I lived with each of their dads long enough to know my children aren’t learning any positive life skills over there. These men never ask for anything beyond the bare minimum when it comes to their allotted time with their boys. I honestly think they liken their weekends to babysitting versus the opportunity to love on their kids. Butthat’s fine. The less time my children spend away from their momma, the better.

Taking a sip of the new Columbian blend I purchased, I wince. I’d given the first cup a pass, thinking I wasn’t fully awake enough to judge it fairly. The grounds smelled good in the store, but this is clearly bitter. Reaching for the flavored creamer, I pour in a generous amount, hoping to make it more palatable. This seems to be a metaphor for my life.

If only I had big plans to distract me while the boys are gone. Juggling a social life when you’re an overworked single mom isn’t easy. I’m sure most women jump at the chance to enjoy some adulting in their children’s absence. Yet I’m working all weekend. I try to plan my schedule around their time away to limit the need for sitters. I spend enough time away from my kids.

Dating life as a single mother is like playing Fortnite. You have to seize opportunities where you can find them, moving toward the grand prize: a healthy relationship despite all the obstacles in your way. I guess that’s a true mark of a boy-mom. Analogies to the latest video game. Hopefully, I can build in a little quality time with Stewart before the boys are home. It’s been a while since we’ve had any of that.

I’m trying to make smarter choices with men. My children have enough working against them with chauvinistic, disinterested dads for role models. I certainly don’t need to introduce them to another man who excels in disappointment. But so far, Stewart seems like a good catch. He’s kind, well mannered, and hasn’t shown any narrow-minded behavior. Not that we’ve gotten serious enough for those opportunities to be evident yet. He appears to understand my limitations, given my situation with the boys, and never gives me a hard time when I can’t meet up as often as he’d like. Plus, he has a good job andtreats me like an equal. That’s already leaps and bounds beyond my first two serious relationships.

“Ready, Mom,” my five-year-old belts out as he flies down the stairs like a trapeze artist, standing tall with a grin of pride as he sticks the landing.

“Did you put your toothbrush and toothpaste in your bag like I asked?”

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