Single Mom's Protector - Complete Series

by Nella Tyler

  I started taking notes as Katie told me about my new clients to come, focusing on the details that she emphasized about each one. I always wanted to go into a new coach-client relationship with someone armed with as much information as possible; it gave me an opening to get through to them, the same way that I had managed to with Zeke and had failed to with Asher. I could only hope that one or two of the new members of my roster would be as quick as Zeke was—certainly they couldn’t both be as bad as Asher. The odds just had to be against it. I told myself firmly that I was going to make the best of it either way and do my best by my new coaching subjects, as I pushed my thoughts away from Zeke.

  Chapter Twelve

  Zeke

  As I walked up to Putt-Putt Mini-Golf, I grinned to myself, anticipating Natalie’s smiling face when she saw me. I’d heard the ripple of concern in her voice when I’d told her over the phone that I wanted her to bring Brady with her on our practice date. “I don’t normally—my clients usually don’t even know that Brady exists,” she’d said to me.

  “Well, I already know he exists,” I’d pointed out. “And besides, it’ll be good to change things up. Don’t you think he’d have fun?”

  Trevor had come through for me on the date idea beyond even my high standards, purchasing a package for me, Natalie, and Brady: two rounds of mini-golf, drinks, food, and tickets for the prize area that would work regardless of how well or how poorly any of us did on the course. He’d picked a day that wouldn’t be quite so busy—I didn’t think Natalie would enjoy trying to wrangle her three-year-old son if he started to have a tantrum—and set it all up easily for me, so that all I had to do when I arrived was present my ID to the ticketing clerk.

  I was more than a little apprehensive about having a practice date with Natalie with her little boy present, but I’d told myself that not only would it score major points with my date coach—who I still wanted to impress—but also it would prepare me for the possibility of some of my real dates having kids and teach me how to deal with them. At my age, I’d figured, more than a few of the women in the world looking for a husband would have kids, either from a previous marriage or on their own. It was only smart to prepare to deal with that in a dating context.

  I spotted Natalie and her little boy hanging around the entrance. Natalie wasn’t even looking for me, she was busy talking to her son. For a moment, I just stood there, watching her. She looked so beautiful, so sweet, crouched down a little bit so she wouldn’t tower over the little toddler, her face so open and so loving. It was as obvious as the sun in the sky that she loved her little boy more than anything—or anyone—else in the world. That’s how it should be, though, I told myself. It didn’t make it any less beautiful to see that look on her face, the warmth in her eyes and the way that her little boy responded to it, beaming back up at the woman who’d given him life in a way that told me plainly that it wasn’t just for show.

  I shook my head and made myself keep moving forward, towards my coach and her son. “Hey, Natalie!” I felt a little tingle of apprehension at the possibility that it’d been a huge mistake to insist that she bring her son. As great as it had been to see Natalie interacting with Brady, the possibility that the toddler wouldn’t like me, or that I’d do something that would be inappropriate, or that he’d get over-stimulated and throw a fit before the date was halfway over weighed on me. But I had already made the choice, and I’d have to go with the flow. “This must be Brady,” I said, gesturing to the little boy and looking down at him. Brady’s eyes were wide when he looked up at me and he ducked behind his mother’s legs, peering out from between her knees.

  Natalie laughed. “Yes, this is Brady, my sweet little boy,” she said, half-stepping aside and turning her head to look at the toddler. “He’s feeling a little shy, I guess,” she told me, smiling wryly. I thought about that for a moment; everything about this date—and the decision of whether or not it was a success—hinged on how I handled the situation.

  Acting on impulse, I dropped down into a crouch, so I wouldn’t tower so much over both Brady and his mother. I balanced on my haunches, looking at the little boy with the kindest expression I could make my face into. “Hey, Brady,” I said, smiling at him. “If you don’t want to say hello to me just yet, that’s fine. I just didn’t want you to think I was ignoring you, okay?” Brady nodded, his eyes still wide but his face otherwise calm, and I rose back up, grinning at Natalie.

  “I’m sure he’ll warm up,” she told me, reaching down and behind her to tousle her son’s hair. “He’s usually pretty quick to get social.”

  “Something he has in common with his mama,” I countered with another grin. “I’ve got everything set up for us—I was assuming Brady would want to play, but of course he can take turns or not however he likes.”

  “Let’s go on in, then,” Natalie said. She looked over her shoulder and then turned around to face her son. “You ready to play, Brady? Can you give me your hand, or do you want me to pick you up?” He considered that question and his face looked like that of a much older child for a moment. Finally, he threw his arms up in the air, obviously opting to be picked up. She bent forward and lifted her toddler son off the ground and settled him at her hip. She looked so natural, so right like that, I wished that I could have taken a picture—but I thought that even if I could, it would just come across as creepy.

  I led my coach and her son towards the ticket counter and showed them my ID. “Oh yeah, I see it right here,” the teenaged clerk said, nodding as she found some note in the ledger on the desk. “You’ve got the full package. Let me just pull that together for you.” I waited patiently, glancing at Natalie and Brady from time to time. Brady, still feeling coy, buried his face against his mother’s shoulder or neck every time I glanced in their direction, and I fought back the urge to laugh.

  In a matter of moments, we had our wristbands on, tickets for drinks and food and prizes in hand, and we’d collected our putters and balls, and pad and pencil to keep score. I’d volunteered to do the honors, since I figured Natalie would have her hands full keeping up with Brady. “You know, I almost regret this,” I told her as we made our way to the first hole.

  “Why?” She looked at me, startled and worried, and I realized my gaffe.

  “No—it’s not Brady, it’s just that I wanted this to be a relaxing, fun date for you, too,” I told her. “I guess I have a lot to learn about kids.”

  She laughed. “It is relaxing in its own way,” she told me, handing Brady his putter. “Don’t swing it at anything but your ball, little man,” she said to the toddler. She looked at me again. “I don’t have to worry about how he’s doing with the sitter or whether he’s behaving himself with her, anything like that. And, it’s nice to be with him—I always feel a little guilty when I have to be away for any length of time.”

  “In that case, I give myself a pat on the back for my innovative idea,” I said, smirking as I pretended to pat my shoulder. She laughed, and I couldn’t help smiling even more at the genuine delight I could see in her face.

  Brady began to warm up to me after the first hole, especially when I insisted that it would be perfectly fine for him to have both a cake pop and a soda; I made up for it with Natalie by agreeing with her that he should have a hot dog as “real food,” as well, and we all settled into the date properly, going from one hole to the next.

  “It’s weird,” Natalie said as we got to the ninth hole of fifteen. “I don’t think I’ve been this relaxed, or had this good of a time, at any date I’ve been on since…” she shrugged off the end of the sentence.

  “Then I should get major coaching points, right?” I grinned and took my first shot—it hit the bumper and went wild of the hole, and I shook my head, sighing with exaggerated exasperation. “You see how distracting your mother is, Brady?” The toddler giggled. “She’s ruining my game here.”

  Natalie snorted. “I’m the distracting one? I see a little three-year-old boy who’s doing a great job of getti
ng all the attention,” she said, giving her son a playful, arch look. “Your turn, little man.” Brady squared up, mimicking my stance, and I shot Natalie a grin.

  I got Brady another cake pop with some of the food tickets, and we let him go at it on the tenth hole. It was far more challenging than a three-year-old should be able to manage at all, but none of us was really interested in the points or winning. Brady barely kept on task at all, but Natalie had expected that. “I’m just glad that he isn’t trying to climb the waterfall,” she told me, shaking her head. “That little boy is absolutely fearless, and I worry constantly that he’s going to climb out on a high, thin branch on a particularly fragile tree someday.”

  “It’s not a bad trait to have,” I pointed out. “He’s brave, just like his mother.” She rolled her eyes, grinning and blushing in spite of her show of dismissal.

  “I’m not brave, just practical,” she told me. “Brady, hon. Don’t swing the club so high.” She took a deep breath and watched as her son adjusted his swing.

  “I think it’s pretty brave,” I countered. “To go on dates with big jerks like me—or guys who are even worse.” I raised an eyebrow. “That shows a lot of optimism that you can fix us hopeless cases.”

  “There are some I know I can’t fix,” Natalie said tartly. “There’s one client that I’m going to have to let go—he just won’t listen to any advice I give him.”

  “Oh,” I said, giving her a sympathetic smile. “That’s a shame. I hope it isn’t me?”

  “No,” she replied, grinning. “Not you. You’re still in the good book—especially now.” Brady got the ball to the other side of the obstacle, and Natalie turned her attention onto helping him get it into the hole. I liked watching her and her son together; it seemed so much more genuine than the dates I’d been on with her before—except for maybe the last one.

  “You know,” I said, as we came to the end of the course and started towards the prize section. “I think, since I’ve been such a great coaching client today, that I deserve more goodnight kiss practice, don’t you?” I’d been unable to get the feeling of kissing Natalie out of my mind in all the days since our last date together. She gave me a quick look—it was almost angry—and then she smiled.

  “I don’t know that that would be a good idea in general,” she said gently, and I recognized the polite veneer that came over her face; it disappointed me, especially after the genuine warmth I’d seen in her all day. “Especially in front of Brady.” I glanced at the toddler, who was watching us from the line to collect his prize. I gave Natalie a true smile, nodding my agreement.

  “I’m totally fine with that,” I told her. “I just thought I’d see if I could—no obligation on your part, obviously.” I took a deep breath; I definitely wished that I could kiss her again, but I was not going to ruin a great practice date by being pushy. The genuine smile came back onto Natalie’s face and I knew I’d made the right decision.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Natalie

  “Mama! Duck! Duck, Mama!” I followed after Brady, smiling at his observation and looking out to make sure that in his haste to get after the ducks waddling near the edge of the pond, he didn’t end up in the water himself. Since I had the day off, I’d decided to take my little boy to the park again, and he had gotten sidetracked from the playground by the appearance of some ducks. I could only hope he wouldn’t decide to also go after the geese I could see camped out yards away—they would not be quite as friendly as the Muscovy birds wagging their behinds and looking up at Brady hopefully.

  “Do you want to feed them?” Whenever we came to the pond I always brought something that Brady could share with the tame wildlife there—grapes or seeds and peanuts for the squirrels and birds, sometimes corn.

  “Yes! Yes! Feed the ducks! Wanna feed the ducks!” I gave Brady a little bag of halved grapes and sat down out of the range of the birds, giving my son a little push towards the waiting, quacking flock. I watched carefully as he approached them, looking for any hint of aggression. It wasn’t mating season, but I knew from experience that some of the drakes were mean. Brady got the bag open with no trouble and began distributing his treats to the ducks, making sure that no one bird got more than its fair share.

  I looked around the park; most of the other kids were climbing the jungle gym, swinging on the swings, or playing in the sand, gabbing and chattering as much as the ducks or geese could. I was sure that once the ducks lost interest in Brady—when they figured out that he was out of treats—he’d head over in the direction of the other kids, to go about his own playtime. But for the moment, it was nice to be able to relax a bit, to watch him, to enjoy the sun and the murmur of the water.

  “Mama?” I looked up. Brady was almost out of grapes already, and I shook my head, grinning.

  “What’s up, sweetie?” He flung a few grapes at one of the slower ducks and caroled happily when the hen gobbled them down. His bag emptied, he came back to me, sinking into the grass.

  “The man,” he said, furrowing his brow as he struggled to figure out how to communicate what he wanted to say. “Nice man. Mr. Zeke?” I nodded.

  “What about him?” I’d introduced Zeke to Brady as Mr. Zeke because it seemed easiest—Mr. Baxter would have been tricky for him to pronounce.

  “He’s nice,” Brady said. He looked up at me. “He makes you smile.”

  “Does he?” I found myself smiling even more. “He is nice, you’re right about that.”

  “Is he…” He pressed his lips together. “Is he like Daddy?” I frowned, trying to understand what my son meant.

  “Like Daddy?” Brady took a breath and blew it out through his nose—not sulky, but almost frustrated.

  “He’s nice,” he said steadily. “Not like the others.” He looked up at me. “Like a Daddy.”

  “Are you asking if I like him?” He considered the question and nodded.

  “He makes you smile,” he pointed out. “You made faces.” I laughed at his astute observation.

  “I make faces at you, too, little man,” I countered.

  “But he’s big man,” he told me. “Bigger than you.” I fought back the urge to laugh at that.

  “He is,” I agreed. “Do you like him?” Brady thought about that and then nodded.

  “He gave me soda,” he said slyly. “And cakes.”

  “Oh, so you like him because he was all about giving you treats?”

  He shrugged. “Nice,” he insisted. “Likes you.”

  “You think he likes me?” Brady nodded.

  “He made faces at you,” he informed me. “Nice faces.”

  I chuckled. “He’s not for me, little boy,” I told my son. “He’s for someone else.”

  “Why?” That was a good question.

  “He needs to be someone’s daddy, maybe. He’s just a client. He’s like a friend, and I’m teaching him how to be friends with another mommy.” I was surprised at how difficult it was to explain in terms that a three-year-old might possibly understand.

  “But you’re a mommy,” Brady pointed out. “And, you need a daddy.” I took a quick, deep breath, wondering just how much was fair to explain to keep Brady from saying something that would be inappropriate to his babysitter or one of the parents of his friends.

  “What you mean is that I need a…” I hesitated. “Husband. Or a boyfriend. Those are the words that mommies use for daddies.” It was the simplest way I could explain it—at least, that’s what I thought at the time.

  “Husband?” Brady frowned, trying to understand the new word.

  “I’ll explain more another time. But I don’t need a man to be—friends with—like that, little man.”

  “Why not?” He looked over at the playground. There were some married couples, off to the side, watching their kids.

  “That’s complicated,” I told my son. “But I don’t need a boyfriend.”

  “You’re sad sometime,” he insisted, turning his attention back onto me. “At night.” I swallowed ag
ainst the dry feeling in my throat. Distract him. This isn’t a good road to go down with your son—not when his father is God knows where doing God knows what right now, not even caring all that much about him. I took a deep breath and grinned at my sweet, thoughtful little boy.

  “I’m sad sometimes, but not right now,” I told him. “Let’s go see what’s going on at the monkey bars.”

  He accepted that idea without hesitation. We walked back over towards the playground, Brady rushing ahead of me to get in on the action. I stood off to the side with the other parents, watching but not too closely: he had already demonstrated that he could take care of himself on a playground, and as long as some of the bigger kids didn’t come into the same area, he wasn’t likely to get into much trouble.

  I had known that I should expect the kind of questions that Brady had started asking, about my love life; I had just hoped that he might be in school before they came up. Part of my mind was proud that my son was apparently so observant, but I was also worried. If my son thought I needed a boyfriend or a husband, was there something he thought was missing in his life? Had it been a mistake to agree with Zeke’s insistence on me bringing Brady with me on the date to the mini-golf course? I sighed, shaking my head to myself, though I kept a smile on my face in case Brady looked over at me.

  I thought about the date itself. It had actually gone better than I had expected, and it was obvious that even without the bribery of cake pops and soda, Brady had liked Zeke. I snickered to myself, remembering the way that Zeke had gotten down into a crouch to introduce himself to my son, how he’d had that cautious, careful air of a man who wasn’t sure he knew how to relate to a small child. Once everyone had warmed up a bit, it had gone as smoothly as any date I’d ever been on in my life, and I hadn’t missed the fact that Brady had started mimicking some of Zeke’s mannerisms—including his golf swing—through the course of the date. Maybe my real mistake had been keeping the fact that I had a son secret from the rest of my clients?