He said ...
So what if I thought he was gorgeous? He was also kind of a jerk. But then our kids decided to be best buddies, and I kept having to see the guy, and ... well, keeping him strictly as fantasy material who never opened his mouth got a little harder after that.
He said ...
I don't have time for a personal life. I've got a son whose medical history requires my full attention and a company I need to keep afloat in this awful economy. Making friends just isn't a priority. At least until the choice got taken away from me.
They said ...
On the surface, the only thing single dads Peter Irving and Aaron Hardison have in common are their eight-year-old loner sons. But both men soon learn that appearances can be deceiving ...
I was a little surprised that I recognized Peter. If someone had asked me an hour ago what he looked like, I would have stared at them blankly. In the four years I'd been working from home, my ability to remember faces had dwindled into nothing. But the dark hair and tall, lean frame I zeroed in on felt ... familiar. Very. Like I saw him every day. That bugged me a little. Because I didn't know this guy at all. I didn't even know what he did for a living. All I knew was that Sammy liked his kid, that he kept on talking whether someone was listening or not, and that he had these long, well-manicured, almost graceful hands he moved around a lot when he talked.
Yes, I realize what that sounds like. I might have a small fetish about hands.
Sammy had already reached him and Morgan before I'd even moved onto the grass. I was too far away to hear what they were saying, but before Sammy's mouth stopped moving, Peter's head was swiveling in my direction. He grinned when he saw me and waved me over.
My temper was short because of the idiots I worked with who thought a half-assed job was good enough, so I really wasn't in the mood for company, but ignoring Peter or walking in a different direction would make me look like a jerk. If our kids were going to be friends, I had to make an effort.
As I headed across the grass, a single, unbidden -- and wholly unwanted -- thought crept in. I promptly shoved it away. It didn't matter that Peter had a geeky cuteness about him. He wasn't my type. Not specifically because he was a guy, because even when his gender had been my preference, he wouldn't have been my type.
Besides, I wasn't looking to get involved with anyone right now, male or female. Sammy needed stability, not disruptions, and porn was readily available to take the edge off when I got too horny.
And I was going straight to hell for thinking about porn on a kids' playground. Especially standing in front of a probably very straight father.
I nodded my head in greeting and immediately turned to see what the kids were doing. I hadn't been this uncomfortable since ... well, the last time I'd come to the park.
"You can relax a little. I told Morgan the climbing equipment and the merry-go-round were off-limits for the day," Peter said. "He brought his pail and shovel for some serious castle building."
I grimaced. I should've thought of that.
"Sammy really wanted to show Morgan his favorite car, but we couldn't find it before we left." I glanced at Peter out of the corner of my eye. "I told him, next time. You know. If Morgan's interested in playing with him again."
"I hate it when the favorites disappear. It was bad enough when he lost his Matchbox cars. Now it's video games, and he's always shocked by my refusal to just buy him a replacement."
I think I was beginning to understand some of Morgan's appeal to Sammy. "Please tell me you don't have a Wii."
"Not yet, but he acts like he'll die if he doesn't have one soon. I'm holding out until Christmas, at least."
"If the boys turn into real friends, I'll pay you to hold out even longer."
"What's wrong with the Wii? Is it something personal against Nintendo?"
"No, no, it's not that. I just worry Sam would push himself too hard with it if we got one." My gaze drifted back to the boys. Lo and behold, they were both crouched in the sand, feet bare, digging away. I stifled the urge to yell at Sammy to put his shoes back on. He wasn't going to get anything into his lungs through his toes. "Until the most recent tests, he wasn't ever really strong enough to spend much time outside. So he's turned into an expert gamer, instead."
Peter sighed dramatically. "Well, that's it then. You better get used to me. If I let him, Morgan would spend every single waking second on his computer. He'd sleep at the desk and insist I'd feed him by hand so as not to disrupt his game."