1. Larkin

“I’ve beenonline dating all of one day, and I already have three dick pics in my inbox,” I said to my sister, Taylee, who was stifling laughter on the side of my tablet screen. I adjusted the device in its protective case shaped like a dinosaur, feeling so opposite from my sister.

Even though all I could see behind her were gauzy curtains and white textured walls, I easily pictured her view of the Seine from her apartment balcony. Meanwhile, I was surrounded by boxes in the world’s smallest two-bedroom house in an equally small Texas town.

Even though she was in her late thirties and I was five years behind her, I’d always looked up to her, from her string of French suitors to her beautiful Parisian apartment and her job as a professor at a university there. I could live vicariously through her.

“It’s all a numbers game,” she said, ever the math professor. “If you meet enough men, there is sure to be a diamond in there somewhere.”

I gave her a look and held up my phone with one of the offending pictures. “I’m deleting this app. Dating in my condition isn’t a good idea anyway.”

“You’re a single mom, Larkin, not dying of syphilis,” she retorted.

I laughed. “I don’t think you can die of syphilis.”

She shrugged. “Maybe Seth can test that theory.”

“You’re bad,” I said with a laugh. “I’m trying to be nice about him, for the kids’ sake. He’s taking this move pretty hard.”

“He’s a piece of shit who doesn’t deserve the benefit of the doubt,” my sister replied. “Leaving you and those precious babies for another woman.”

My lips pressed together, and I tried not to be bitter about the small, shabby house we were renting in the small town where I’d never planned to settle down. But I needed support, even more so now as a single mom, and I didn’t have enough of it in Dallas or make enough money on my own to hire help there. For all Seth’s flaws, his parents loved our two children to death and offered to babysit them for free. “I will admit, it was the most awkward month of my life, living in the house with him after the divorce while I waited for this place to open up.”

Tay pointed at her mouth like she was going to be sick. I couldn’t blame her. The whole situation was not one I would have chosen for myself, but here I was.

“I gotta go pick up the kids,” I said. “I told the grandparents I’d be there at five so they could go to their church dinner.”

“I should probably grade these papers,” she replied. “You’ll get through this and land on your feet, Lark. I know you will.”

I lifted a corner of my lips, thankful for her faith in me but not feeling quite as confident in myself. “Love you,” I replied, clicking out of the call, and then taking a couple deep breaths before standing up.

I’d spent the day unpacking, but it felt like I’d hardly made a dent in the place, other than setting up the room Emily and Jackson would share for the time being. But it was important to me that my children felt at home here, especially Emily. Jackson was only one, but at four years old, Emily had taken the split so hard, crying more nights than not over the last month. She used to be such a lively and playful four-year-old, but she’d changed into a reserved, quiet little girl, and it broke my heart. Hopefully having all her things set up would help her feel more at home here.

With a sigh, I grabbed a cookie from the plate one of our new neighbors, Mrs. Halstead, had brought over earlier with a smile that made the wrinkles deepen all around her lips and eyes. The gesture was so kind I’d almost cried. Probably shouldn’t mention that on the dating app.

Not that signing up for it had been my idea—my sister encouraged it, saying that a rebound was exactly what I needed to get Seth off my mind. With the onslaught of dick pics, I wasn’t sure a good rebound was in my future. I’d have to heal the old-fashioned way—with time.

I crossed the small living room to the front door, grabbed my keys from the Command hook on the wood paneled wall, and went outside. There were two steps down to the cracked sidewalk that stretched to the street. The lawn had been mowed but consisted mostly of weeds. I stepped slightly off the sidewalk and into the “grass,” sending small grasshoppers and other insects fluttering up before falling back down to the ground. Ugh. I hated bugs. Luckily there was a small park just a couple blocks away I could take the kids to.

Reaching my minivan, I opened the door and got in. I hated the car now—it had been a “push present” from Seth after having Jackson, a reminder that we wanted to have a big family together with at least four kids just months before I found out he’d been cheating on me while I was still pregnant and on bedrest.

Maybe it was because I was mad, but I lost track of my speed, and suddenly, I saw red flashing lights behind me as I drove out of town toward their grandparents’ house. And when I looked down, I realized I was driving ten miles over the speed limit.

“Shit. Shit. Shit,” I muttered. A speeding ticket was the last thing I needed right now with money so tight. I was half tempted to turn onto the next dirt road and see if I could ditch him. But who was I kidding? I wasn’t some hot-rodding teen. I was a thirty-four-year-old mom in a minivan.

I sighed and pulled off to the side of the highway, putting the car in park and taking out my license, registration, and proof of insurance. I glanced in my rearview mirror, noticing a man getting out of the cop car.

He was tall—had to be over six feet—with a taut body and strong arms with tattoos winding down from his uniform sleeves.

My mouth went dry.

My marriage may have been dead, but my libido was not. In a quick glance, this man was doing more for me than any of the explicit pictures I had received on my phone.

If I hadn’t been terrified of getting a ticket, my imagination may have run away with me, thinking up all the things he could do with that pair of handcuffs dangling from his hip. I swallowed, hard, and prepared myself for his approach.

He reached my vehicle and spun his finger for me to roll down my window. My chest heaved with the force of my breath.

“Ma’am, do you know how fast you were going?” he asked, all stern voice, aviator glasses giving nothing away.

“I’m so sorry,” I said quickly. “I’m running late to pick up my kids from their babysitter’s. I really can’t be late. Is there any chance you’d let me go if I promise to drive the speed limit from here on out?” I may not have been as cute as I once was, but I batted my eyes in what I hoped would be an effective display of outright begging.

He lifted his aviators, revealing a set of deep blue eyes and long dark lashes that would have taken my breath away if it weren’t for the outright skepticism in his pursed lips and arched eyebrows.

Looking pointedly at my back seat, he said, “If you have kids at daycare, where are their booster seats?”

Did he think I was lying? Why would I drive this vehicle if I didn’t have children? “I had to leave them for the sitter, in case she wanted to take them somewhere.”

“Uh huh,” he deadpanned.

“Do you not believe me?” I asked, incredulously.

There was a spark of amusement to his voice. “How about this? If you really are late to get your kids, I’ll personally offer you a police escort so you can make it on time.”

My jaw dropped, just the expectation of embarrassment coloring my cheeks. I could only imagine what Seth’s sharp-tongued mother would say if she saw me pulling up with a police officer flashing his lights. “No, I—”

“Or you could take a ticket.” He shrugged, reaching for a pocket notebook. “Up to you, darlin’.”

Something about the way he said darlin’ made my shoulders snap straight with defiance. “Fine,” I huffed. “After you.”

“What’s the address?” he asked.

I rattled off the street name and number, and he nodded. “Follow me. With that lead foot, you should have no problem keeping up.”

My jaw dropped open in indignation, but he didn’t notice, already turning back to his car.