The only problem?
She wasn’t going to like it.
Chapter Thirteen
“Being a mom it is wise to compromise.” —Linda, Ohio, United States
Gavin
“Why do you have an app calledLet’s Hookupon your phone?” Gavin’s jaw went slack as his mother—his supposed-to-be-innocent mother—swiped right or left or whatever in front of him.
Since they were in his office, he couldn’t exactly walk away. Mostly because she blocked his exit from around his desk, so to leave he’d have to re-live his high school football days to tackle her.
She was his mother, so he wouldn’t do that.
Mom held the phone in front of him again. A beautiful blonde woman filled the screen with a cheerful smile and a lot of cleavage. He appreciated the cleavage, but he didn’t appreciate his mother forcing it on him.
“What about this one?” she said as though they were picking Honeycrisp apples at Safeway instead of someone for him to hookup with.
“Mom.” Gavin pushed the phone away with the eraser of his pencil. “No.”
He should really check with the HVAC guy for the building because…was it getting hot in there? Yes, definitely uncomfortably hot. And not the good kind; the bad kind that left sweat rings.
Mom ignored him, continuing to do whatever she was doing with the app. Her eyes lit right up. “She said yes to you. That’s a good sign. She likes you.”
“She likes a photo of me and whatever you’re saying to her.” Two things that did not a solid relationship make. Or a solid hookup, honestly.
Also, oh God, what was she saying to this woman?
Gavin tried to study the latest donation recommendations from his team—he managed the Puffle Yum Foundation and all the company’s philanthropy projects. Unfortunately, his time was up with his mother’s patience on his dating habits, which was really wrecking his ability to get work done.
“This lady owns her own business.” Mom slid the phone into his line of sight. A very nice-looking brunette smiled back at him.
“Does Dad know you’re on a hookup app?” He pushed the phone away with his thumb.
Mom scoffed. “That’s what you need to do, Gavin. You need to hookup.”
See, that’s where there was a disconnect. Uh-huh. Right here. He was pretty sure that her definition of a hookup and the rest of the world’s definition were two different things.
“Do you even know what hookup means?” he asked.
“Having coffee or going to a show.” She was swiping again. Dear God, make her stop swiping.
Or put his brother Dave on the app and start swiping.
He could be okay with either option.
“I hooked up with Audrey last week when we had tea at the Brown Palace,” Mom said, cheerfully unaware of what the hell she was saying.
“Mom.” He gave a subtle headshake. “To hookup means to have sex without expectations or a relationship.”
This time it was his mother’s jaw that dropped. “I did not do that with Audrey. You can ask my cat.”
He believed her. Scones and tea were not allowed at most hookups—he was pretty sure. It was more of a beer and pretzel kind of deal. But he’d have to check the hookup manual, which was not a thing, so he didn’t have one.
“Google it,” he suggested instead as he stood, tapped the reports into a tidy pile, and seriously considered hiding out in his brother’s office until his mom was over whatever this was.
She didn’t google it. She did, however, slide the phone to him with the photo of yet another woman.
