Scoring Mr. Romeo

Here's a tip: never underestimate romance.

Falling in love was the furthest thing from my mind. I'm a single mother raising a strong little boy, and he is my one and only priority.

The universe felt otherwise, sending me—actually, my son's soccer ball—hurdling toward a stunningly handsome, perfect man, who said all the right things. He made it hard to ignore how much I missed romance. 

In the past, when I met a man, they ran as soon as they heard I was a widow with a child. Not this guy. No, he fell in love with my son, and in turn, my son fell in love with him. But it was hard to believe he felt the same about me. My job was to be the strong one―to protect our hearts from sweet dreams that never lasted.

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Women told me I was a master of romance. They were right. I knew how to sweep a woman off her feet, to make her feel special, and good in all the right places. I wasn't a saint. I've had my share of one-night stands. They served their purpose, giving me a steady diet of romance without the hassle of commitment.

Then one day at the park, a soccer ball came careening toward my head, and my life changed in an instant. I never imagined that true love would come in the form of a five-year-old little boy. And then I got to know his mother: She was strong, independent, drop-dead gorgeous, and someone I desired - I just needed to prove it to her.

She called me Mr. Romeo, and that was fine with me.

Lesson learned: Love always trumps everything.