The Agreement by Allyson Lindt

Brooke
Raising twins by myself wasn’t the life I pictured, but the three of us have done pretty well together. They’re in their senior year of high school now, and I’m thinking maybe I can finally get back into the dating pool.
Given that my late-husband was my high school sweetheart—my one and only—and it’s been more than twenty years, I have no idea where to start. Do I swipe right, speed date, or maybe just stand on a corner and shout forty and single, please date me?
When an associate offers a trade—my business knowledge in exchange for his hook-up expertise—I jump on the agreement far faster than I should.
But I draw the line at taking the coaching into the bedroom, especially if his best friend is joining us. This cougar knows better than to ogle the cubs nearly a decade younger than me. 
Don’t I?