Single Mom's Protector - Complete Series

by Nella Tyler

  “Well, then when we do get to our next session, I’m sure we’ll have plenty to discuss,” I said, swallowing against the dry feeling in my throat. “What do you want to do for our next date?”

  “I was thinking we could visit the mini-golf course again—without Brady this time, unfortunately,” Zeke told me. I nodded, glancing at the brace on my wrist.

  “Well, I can’t promise to give you as much of a challenge as I did last time, but I am definitely game for a rematch,” I said, keeping the smile on my face. “When do you want to meet?”

  “Let me get in touch with Trevor, and see what he can arrange with my schedule and yours,” Zeke suggested. “Did you visit the doctor?” I laughed again.

  “I did. I am actually on a few different medications right now—most of them pain ones. But of course, since I don’t want to miss Brady trying something he shouldn’t, I’m only taking half-doses of the pain pills.”

  “Maybe you should have someone come over and watch Brady for a few hours while you get some sleep?” I shrugged off that idea.

  “I’m icing down everything that I should, and Brady is being very good about playing with his toys,” I said. “I should be up to working again in a few days—so whenever you can arrange the date for, let me know and I’ll make it.” Katie had given me three days of personal time to get over the worst of the healing process; she’d been especially vehement about it when she’d seen the pictures of my injuries.

  Zeke asked a few more questions: whether he could order some food to be delivered to my house, or send someone from the cleaning service he used to straighten up for me, or any of the other things he could do to help me out, but I declined them all. I finished up the conversation with him with another reminder to let me know about our date as soon as possible, and hung up when he finished wishing for my quick recovery. I sat on the couch a little while longer, pretending to watch Yo Gabba Gabba, but actually feeling more depressed than ever—though I couldn’t quite admit to myself the reason why.

  Chapter Twenty Six

  Zeke

  I arrived at the mini-golf place with about ten minutes to spare and spotted Natalie waiting for me at the entrance; she was still wearing a brace on her wrist and knee, but the bruises had begun to fade and there was only a little scab on her lips where it had split. She looked as though she’d mostly recovered from the attack, and I was glad. I would have felt incredibly guilty meeting with her if she still looked as injured as she had the night of the assault.

  “Hey,” I said, smiling as I leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. “Have you come up with your tall tale for how you got knocked about yet?” Natalie laughed.

  “Not yet,” she said. “Actually, the true facts of the story make for a pretty good tale on their own, don’t you think?”

  I chuckled. “That’s a good point.” I was practically dancing from the desire to tell Natalie about the date I’d been on with Brigitte. I wanted so much to thank Natalie for her advice, for her encouragement, but I knew better than to jump into that right away. Instead, I led her into the building and collected our passes and tickets to use the course and helped her pick out a ball and a putter.

  “Brady was sad that he couldn’t come this time,” Natalie said, before flashing me a grin. “But I’m pretty sure by now his babysitter has taken out the bubbles, so he’s probably forgotten I even exist.”

  “Nah, kids never forget Mom,” I told her. “I’m sure he’s fine, but he’s aware you’re not there.”

  “That’s comforting,” she said, smiling at me still.

  “I had my date with Brigitte,” I said; I couldn’t hold back any longer.

  “That’s great,” Natalie told me. She stepped back to let me take my putt. “How did it go?”

  “It went so, so well,” I replied. “It was great—totally unlike any other normal date I’ve been on. Everything was exactly the way it should be, and I think I really, really charmed her.” I took my putt and managed to get almost to the hole—but not quite. “Your turn again.”

  She limped slightly on her way to where her purple ball had landed, and took her shot. She was just short of the hole. “What was so special about it?” I looked at her for a moment; there was something in the tone of her voice that struck me as a little odd, but I pushed the idea of that aside.

  “I followed all of your advice,” I explained. I took my shot and landed in the hole, then stepped back to let Natalie go ahead. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you—I don’t think—but it started with asking her out.”

  “Oh?” Her back was turned to me, and I waited for her to putt before I spoke again, so I wouldn’t distract her. She sank the shot and I updated our scorecard.

  “Yeah,” I said, smiling as we went from one hole to another. “I spotted her in line behind me at the café we both go to, and I bought her drink. I remembered her usual order and didn’t make a huge fuss or anything, just walked up to the register like usual, ordered my drink and hers, and paid for both.”

  “That’s really nice,” she said. I waited for her to take her first shot on the hole before I continued.

  “She agreed to go out with me right away,” I told her. “So I picked a Moroccan place for dinner for us. I figured it would be a little more intimate, a little more romantic than a standard high end restaurant.”

  “That’s a good choice,” she agreed. “Did you bring her flowers?”

  I shook my head. “I didn’t, because I didn’t know which ones she would prefer—just like you said. I wanted to follow your advice to the letter, and I did, and it was great.”

  “That’s awesome,” she told me. I took my turn and missed the ball. I was too excited. I stepped back and let her take her second turn.

  “I did get a goodnight kiss,” I said when she had taken her turn and sunk the shot. I went up to the tee and managed to hit the golf ball close, but not right into the hole. Since Natalie was done, I took another shot and missed. “It was really nice.”

  “Glad to hear it,” she said.

  “I think I could really get to like her.” I sank the shot finally and we moved onto the next hole. “What have you been up to, other than—obviously—recovering from that hellacious meeting?”

  “Just spending time with Brady,” she said. “I’m starting to look at getting him ready for pre-K.” We talked about that for a little while, moving from one hole on the course to another, and I listened as Natalie explained that she wanted her son to be prepared as possible, but she didn’t want Brady to feel overly pressured. I could understand—objectively, at least—the reason for her concern; she didn’t want to stress her son out, but she didn’t want him to be stressed out later, either, when the stakes were higher.

  We talked about a few more things after that, but my thoughts kept turning to Brigitte and the date. “She’s a really pretty fascinating woman,” I told Natalie as we started to reach the more difficult holes of the course—the ones with more and more obstacles.

  “How so?” I glanced in her direction as she took her putt and waited for her to finish before I explained.

  “She’s a translator at one of the banks here in the city,” I told her. “She speaks English—obviously—and French, along with German and Dutch.”

  “That’s awesome,” she said, smiling at me. “I’m glad you had a good time.”

  “I’m really looking forward to seeing her again.” I took my turn, but managed to hit one of the obstacles. Natalie went up to make her second putt.

  “Keep in mind, the goal is to prepare you for someone from the matchmaking service,” she pointed out. “Of course, you’re not required to end up with someone that Katie picks out for you, but this is supposed to be a practice kind of thing.”

  “Oh, of course,” I said, nodding. “I’m really looking forward to meeting some of the people that Katie comes up with.” Natalie’s ball hit one of the bumpers and went wild. “But in the meantime, it’s nice to actually have a successful date with someone, you know? A
nd feel like I am looking forward to seeing them again.”

  “I bet,” she said. “Take your turn, Zeke.”

  “Oh—right, sorry,” I grinned, and Natalie smiled, but it wasn’t her usual warm, open smile. I took my turn and missed yet again. “I mean, it’s just that she’s really interesting, you know?”

  “Well, I’d hope that if she was boring, you wouldn’t be looking for a second date with her,” she pointed out.

  “Of course,” I said. I watched her take her turn and stepped up to make another shot at my ball after she’d managed to get to within a few inches of the hole. “Where do you think I should take her for a second date? I should probably come up with something fun, something that’s a little less traditional—don’t you think?”

  “I think that you hopefully know her better than I do,” Natalie said.

  “I’ll see if Trevor can come up with some ideas for me. He’s been really good so far with what he’s put together for me for our sessions. Maybe I’ll take her to a roller rink! That’d be fun.”

  “Sure,” she agreed. I putted my ball and managed to get it over to the other side of the hole from where Natalie’s sat.

  “It’s just really gratifying to finally go out with someone who’s really interested in me, who actually wants to go out with me, you know?”

  “Right,” she said. She took her putt and managed to sink it, and I went up for what I hoped would be my last shot at the ball for that hole.

  “I’d almost say that mini-golf would be a fun idea, but I don’t want to spend the whole date with Brigitte thinking about my dating coach—at least, not any more than I did the last time, remembering all of your advice and tips.” I sunk the ball and we moved on.

  “Movies are always good,” Natalie said, lining up her shot at the next tee. “I was hoping I could take Brady to the next Pixar movie that comes out, actually.”

  “Those are great movies,” I agreed. “Can he sit still through a whole movie?”

  “That’s what I’m waiting to see,” she explained. “Of course, at three, he doesn’t have much in the way of focus, but he pays pretty good attention to the TV shows I let him watch sometimes. So hopefully by the time it comes out in a few months, he’ll be up for it.”

  “It must be exciting, though, watching him start to develop into a fully aware person,” I pointed out. In the back of my mind, more thoughts about Brigitte began to pile up. “I asked Brigitte if she was interested in ever having kids, you know.”

  “Did you?” I took my putt, and managed to land it in one, but only because I’d played probably dozens of holes with a windmill obstacle before.

  “I did,” I replied. “She said that right now with her career, she’s not looking to settle down just yet, but that she does want to have kids eventually.”

  “Very diplomatic of her,” Natalie said. I laughed.

  “I think it was probably the truth,” I pointed out. “She seems ambitious.”

  “There are different kinds of ambitions,” she countered. “Some people have wide ones and some have narrow ones.”

  “Brigitte seems to have her head screwed on pretty much the right way,” I told her. “She wants to have it all, or as much of it as she can get.”

  “More power to her,” she said as we moved to one of the last three holes of the mini-golf course.

  “I’m probably just being ridiculous, but I think she’s probably one of the more interesting women I’ve met. Can you imagine being fluent in three or four different languages?”

  “Not really,” she admitted. “I used to be semi-fluent in French, but I’m pretty rusty now. She sounds very accomplished.”

  “She’s great,” I said. “I’m really looking forward to seeing how things go on a second date. I might start asking a few other women out, too, see if I can get in some more practice before Katie starts setting me up with people.”

  “That’s a great idea,” Natalie said.

  “Or I might just stick with Brigitte for a little while, along with the sessions with you. She’s really interesting.”

  “You’ve mentioned that,” Natalie said, giving me a little smile I couldn’t quite read.

  “I know,” I told her. “I’m just so thrilled that I actually had a successful date, you know?” We came to the second-to-last hole of the course and I grinned at Natalie.

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  Natalie

  When Zeke had first begun telling me about his date with Brigitte, I tried to do the right thing—the professional thing—and be encouraging. I tried to keep myself focused on the task at hand, which was to hear about his ventures and keep him on track, provide him with feedback about how he could improve his odds, how he could refine his dating techniques.

  But as the game wore on, and the holes on the course got more and more difficult, I started to feel flustered. Not only was I struggling to keep up with the game as my wrist and knee beginning to hurt, but the ongoing rush of Zeke’s praise of Brigitte started to get on my nerves. Try and change the subject again, see if it sticks this time, I told myself. I didn’t want to make a fuss about Zeke going on a date with someone—especially when we were technically just client and coach, not anything more—but I couldn’t keep listening to more and more praise of this strange new woman in his life.

  “I read an article recently, saying that golf—the traditional kind, at least—is actually really good for you,” I said.

  “I’ll have to reconsider bringing Brigitte here then,” Zeke said. I closed my eyes.

  “You know,” I told him, carefully keeping my voice as neutral as possible, “even considering this a practice date, and not the real thing, it’s generally considered bad manners to monopolize the conversation, especially about someone who isn’t present at the date.”

  “Oh,” he said. I opened my eyes, keeping my smile plastered on my face as strongly as I could. I had started trying to wean myself off of the pain pills completely, especially for dates like the one I was on—where I was working with clients—I didn’t think it was safe or professional to even have a half-dose of an opiate in my system while I was supposed to be present and aware. “I’ve just been waiting to tell you all about the date, you know—I wanted to see what you thought of it, and I guess I’m a bit overexcited about Brigitte. She’s really great, you know?”

  Before I could control myself, I gripped the putter tightly in my hands and turned to face Zeke. “I don’t care,” I said. “I really don’t care that much about how your date went. I’m glad I could help you score with her or whatever, but unless it went wrong somewhere, it’s not like you have to tell me every little detail about how perfect and awesome and wonderful she is.” The words tumbled out of my mouth almost uncontrollably, one after the other. He stared at me in shock, and in the back of my mind I thought that I should walk away, wait until I could regain my composure, but I kept speaking. “And really, it’s not even like you’re ready for actual dating! You can’t even manage to make the effort to pretend like you care about what’s going on in my life other than for maybe—what—three minutes total the entire time we’ve been here?”

  “We’ve talked about your life for more than three minutes,” he said, his voice starting to tighten and while his face fell into defensive, almost angry lines.

  “Every topic of conversation I try and pull up, you somehow manage to turn it into something about Brigitte,” I pointed out heatedly. “Don’t you think that if you tried that with any of the women that Katie is going to set you up with, you’re going to strike out with every last one of them?” I putted the ball angrily and nearly threw the golf club down in frustration. I knew what the real problem was: I’d felt the first tendrils of jealousy as soon as Zeke had mentioned his date with Brigitte.

  “Well, obviously,” he sputtered. “It’s not like I’d mention a real date I’d been on with any other real date I went on.”

  “You’re supposed to be treating this like practice,” I told him. “You should
at least have the decency to pay enough attention to the person you’re talking to that you can realize that they don’t feel like continuing in whatever topic of conversation you keep pushing on them!” I took a deep breath. “If you keep going this way, you’re not going to find any long-term success with anyone because you’re just going to keep offending the women you go out with.”

  “What’s up with you tonight?” He scowled at me. “You’re supposed to be my dating coach. I thought I would tell you about a successful date I had gone on. I thought you’d be glad.” I clenched my teeth and breathed in slowly through my nose. My heart was pounding in my chest. I exhaled and picked up my club.

  “Please,” I said, opening my eyes and meeting Zeke’s gaze. “Please pay attention to the feedback I’m giving you.” I breathed in deeply again and felt myself calm down—just a little bit, but enough to keep from flying off the handle once more. “I know I’m being really tough on you right now, but the basic point I’m making is a valid one. You need to pay better attention to the person you’re speaking to. You need to learn when to focus on what they want to talk to.”

  “Okay,” he said, stepping back from me slightly. “I’m sorry I offended you.”

  I sighed. “You didn’t offend me,” I told him, shaking my head. I swallowed against the bitter taste in the back of my throat and forced myself to stay on task. “You frustrated me a little bit, but I might also still be… a little bit sensitive after the whole thing with Nathan Giles.” I knew for a fact that that wasn’t the reason I’d blown up at Zeke, but I couldn’t tell him the real reason; I could barely admit to myself the fact that my feelings had taken over. “I think—as much as I hate it—I should probably go home, call it a night.”

  “Why don’t you let me buy you a drink? We can call the game in your favor, and sit and calm down for a bit,” Zeke suggested. “We’ll collect some prizes, talk about other things, and you can go home to Brady and get some rest once you’re nice and relaxed.” The thought of having a drink with Zeke—of talking like just two people, not as client and coach, not fighting—was tempting, I had to admit. But I knew that he wouldn’t be able to keep from mentioning Brigitte at least a few more times, and I knew that it would only continue to irritate me, even if I shouldn’t let it.