Single Mom's Protector - Complete Series

by Nella Tyler

  “I like that one,” Phoebe said. “It’s the same color as your eyes.”

  “Okay, I’ll try this one and the off-white one there,” I told the salesgirl.

  “I’ll get you a bra and underwear to put on first, but you’ll have to keep them, they can’t be returned,” she said it with disdain, assuming that mine were too worn or dirty to touch even the underside of her precious dresses. She was right, but it still kind of pissed me off. I kept the sarcasm in check as I thanked her.

  I told her my sizes, and she was back in a few minutes with a bra and underwear the likes of which I’d never seen. On top of the nice fabric they were made of, they were exactly the same shade of green as the dress I’d chosen. I slipped into the dressing room and peeked at the price tag on the bra. My heart nearly stopped. I wasn’t sure I had enough boob to stuff into a bra that cost a hundred and fifty dollars. I had to force myself to put it on and once I did, I wasn’t certain that I’d ever take it off. It was the most comfortable thing that I’d ever had next to my body…besides Drake. I pulled on the underwear next. I didn’t bother looking at the tag on those. I slipped on the off-white dress first, but as soon as I got it over my head I knew that it wasn’t for me. It had a plunging neckline and even in the pretty new bra, I had nothing for it to plunge into. I pulled it off and put the green one on. My breath caught in my throat when I looked at myself. The dress was gorgeous and in it, so was I.

  I left the dress shop with the underwear, the dress, and a pair of shoes with four inch heels I wasn’t sure I’d be able to walk in. The girl tried to talk me into a three hundred dollar bag, too, but what the hell was I going to put in it? I figured I’d spent enough of Drake’s money already. I had no idea that he wasn’t even close to finished.

  He’d written directions down for me, first the dress shop and then the salon. I was more nervous about that than I was the dress shop, but after Drake finished making the girl at the front desk blush with whatever magic words he uttered over the phone, she insisted that Phoebe and I both would be treated to “the entire spa experience.”

  Not long after, I lay submerged in hot, bubbly water that smelled like a field of wildflowers and wondered if I had died and went to heaven. When I got out of the sensuous bath, I was treated to a massage and then a facial. I wore a fluffy robe and slippers while my nails were buffed, lengthened, and polished, and then I was treated to something I hadn’t had in many years – an actual shampoo and condition of my hair. I’ve had the dreads for so long, I had almost forgotten how good it felt to have a scalp massage and I’d never had one from a professional. A girl could definitely get used to this. I was so relaxed while she was trimming and dyeing and fluffing my hair that I almost fell asleep in the chair. When she pronounced that we were done, Phoebe was staring at me with her mouth wide open. She looked great. I actually hardly recognized her.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “You look…you look like one of those girls on the front of the magazines. God, Summer, you’re beautiful.”

  “Really?”

  “Oh, yeah!”

  “So are you, have you seen yourself?”

  I think she actually blushed when she smiled. I’ve never seen her do that before. “I do look hot, don’t I?”

  I laughed. “Yeah, you do.”

  “Okay, honey, here you go.” The girl who had been tirelessly working on my hair for the past three hours handed me a mirror. My gaze was caught on the reflection in the glass I was holding, but the girl staring back looked nothing like me. She has my green eyes and tanned skin, but the long, soft hair with varying shades of blonde from platinum to honey layered on top of each other that hung down across her shoulders and framed her face certainly wasn’t mine. This girl’s green eyes looked happy and relaxed. They sparkled with the kind of joy that I’d personally not seen or felt in years.

  “Wow…”

  The girl and Phoebe both smiled. “Just you wait, honey, our make-up artist Lulu gets to have a go at you next. You really won’t believe your eyes when she’s finished.”

  “I already don’t believe them. I’m not sure my date will even recognize me tonight.”

  “Speaking of your date,” the girl said, “I have a message for you.” She handed me a note. I unfolded it and read it twice. I shook my head and folded it back up.

  “What?” Phoebe asked.

  “This man is crazy,” I whispered to her as we followed the girl towards the make-up room.

  “What did he do?”

  “Besides all of this, you mean?”

  She giggled. “Yeah, besides all of this.”

  “He rented a hotel room for me to finish getting dressed and ready in when I’m done here at the Indigo in San Diego.”

  “Wow! Nice!”

  “It’s too much, Phoebe.”

  “Honey, did you ask him for any of this?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “Does he expect anything in return?”

  “I don’t think so. He’s not like that.”

  “Then it’s not too much. It’s what he wants to do for you. He obviously believes that you deserve it. At least for today, Summer, let yourself believe it, too.”

  *******

  I held onto Phoebe’s words throughout the rest of the afternoon as my make-up was done to perfection and a car that cost more money than I might ever see in my lifetime took me to the Indigo hotel. Drake hadn’t rented me a room – it was a suite. I stood aghast in the center of it, afraid to touch anything. For a moment, I forgot how clean I actually was. When I remembered how I’d been washed and scrubbed today from head to toe, I allowed myself a feel of the soft, plush cushions on the sofa and recliner in the sitting room. I walked into the bedroom and slid my hand across the down comforter on the bed. It was softer than butter in my hands. I almost expected it to melt between my fingers. I sat down and, forgetting about my perfect hair, I laid back on it and spread my arms open like I was making a snow angel. I was so overwhelmed by it all that I could hardly breathe.

  When it was almost time for Drake to pick me up, I reluctantly pulled myself up off of the luxurious bed and put on my pretty dress and shoes. I turned on the bright light and examined myself. The colorful tattoo sleeves were slightly visible through the sheer lace, but they definitely looked classier than they did uncovered. I used my fingers to smooth the soft, silky hair I still didn’t recognize down my back. I had butterflies in my belly the size of full-grown dragons and more than once as I stood staring at the unrecognizably pretty girl in the mirror, I asked myself what I was doing. Fairytales don’t exist…do they?

  A sudden knock at the door pushed the panic button deep inside of me and I actually considered locking myself in the bathroom and refusing to come out. It took every shred of courage in my body to walk like a baby deer in those four inch heels over to the door and open it. As soon as I saw Drake, there was no question in my mind any longer. Fairytales do exist…and Prince Charming was standing at my door.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  DRAKE

  Every particle of oxygen in my entire body was sucked out when Summer opened that door. I have seen women across the world. I’ve intimately known women who spend nearly every waking hour primping and preening and doing something simply to make themselves more beautiful. I know women who have literally paid tens of thousands of dollars re-make what God gave them. What I have never known or seen and might possibly ever see again, is any woman who was one tenth as beautiful as Summer is tonight.

  “I don’t even have words.”

  She blushed, which was a miracle in and of itself, I think. “You look really, really nice, too.” I looked down at my suit and suddenly remembered the flowers I had in my hand. I wanted to tell her how dull they looked next to her, but I knew that was just too cliché. Instead, I held them out to her and for a second ,I thought that she wasn’t going to take them. When she did, her eyes were filled with tears. She dipped her head down to inhale them, but I als
o think it was to gather herself before she looked back up at my face. A strand of that gorgeous hair had fallen across her forehead and everything inside of me was screaming, itching, and aching to touch it. But tonight, I was going to be her gentleman. Tonight was the night Summer deserved, her opportunity to see that she’s every bit as good as everyone else there, and better than most. I want her to know I think of her as more than a sex toy. I have enjoyed every minute of getting to know her. She’s smart and funny and tough and she has a great heart. She’s so different from the spoiled, petulant women I’m used to.

  “Are you ready?”

  “I have no idea,” she said with a nervous look, but she took my hand and went with me. The drive to the hotel where Mother was holding the gala was a short one and we were both silent. Summer because she was nervous, I think…and me because I was literally intimidated by how beautiful she is. When we got there and I helped her out of the car, she clutched my arm and I could feel her shaking. I almost wanted to turn her around and take her home. This frightened girl wasn’t the little spitfire I knew. The last thing I wanted any of this to do was change her. Her personality is as sexy as she is – if not sexier.

  “I think I’m going to throw up,” she whispered as we walked through the double doors and towards the welcome line where my mother stood. I looked down at Summer and I must have looked worried because she laughed and said, “Now you look like you’re going to throw up. I feel better.”

  I shook my head at her, but I had to smile. She is the most amazing little creature I’ve ever met.

  “There’s my handsome son.” The sound of my mother’s voice made me cringe involuntarily. I pasted a smile on my face that she would easily know was fake. The beauty of my family is that no one cares. As long as you act the part in public, no one cares how artificial you are.

  “Hello, Mother.” She was elegant as always, dressed in a cream-colored ball gown with her pretty hair done up in some kind of braided twist. Her figure was as perfect as it had been in her twenties and her skin as smooth and clear as a newborn’s. It was all bought and paid for, of course, but the result was pure beauty. She leaned in and I kissed her cheek as her crystal blue eyes landed on Summer. Summer’s back was straight and her head was high. I could only hope she would leave here with the same posture and me having to disown any members of my family.

  “Who is this gorgeous creature?”

  “Mother, this is Summer French. Summer, this is my mother, Ellen Spencer.”

  Summer smiled and as usual, parts of me surged with blood – not all of these parts were ones that you wanted surging in the presence of your mother. She held out her little hand and my mother took it. “It’s lovely to meet you, dear.” I saw my mother’s eyes take her in from head to toe, pausing almost imperceptibly as she ran them down her arms.

  “It’s nice to meet you, too, Mrs. Spencer.”

  “French…that name doesn’t sound familiar. Are you from San Diego or La Jolla?”

  “Neither, ma’am, I grew up back east…mostly.”

  “Oh, how nice. So how long have you been in California?”

  “Mother, you have other guests waiting. Maybe you can interrogate my date later.” My mother gave me a tight smile before turning back to Summer.

  “We will talk later, dear. I suppose my son is right and I should greet my guests.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” I saw Summer take a heavy breath as my mother walked away. It was a sigh of relief, no doubt. She grabbed hold of my arm again as we walked deeper into the ballroom. I could see my sister standing next to the dessert table sipping from a glass of Dom Pérignon. I knew what it was without tasting it or seeing the bottle. It’s the only champagne she’ll drink and my mother caters to her every whim. I wanted to do my best to steer Summer in the opposite direction. For the most part, my sister Chrissy is not a bad person, but she can be a snob and, when she drinks, a bitch.

  I glanced at Summer as we walked across the room. Her green eyes were taking in the giant crystal chandeliers overhead and I tried to imagine what she was thinking. I guessed if I came from where she did and I walked into this place, I’d wonder what the collective cost was and think about how many people on the street that money could feed. I saw her looking at the table laden with food. The gala was a buffet-style benefit supposedly, but the caterers were there, fussing over their wealthy guests.

  “Are you hungry?” She shook her head, but never took her eyes off of the food. “Are you sure? Did you eat today?”

  She put her free hand across her stomach. “I couldn’t eat anything. I really would throw up. I just want to look at it.” I noticed that she wasn’t just looking at the food. Her pretty green eyes were taking in the glossy ballroom floor and the people milling around in their expensive party attire. A waiter walked by and I grabbed two flutes of champagne off of his tray and tried to hand her one. “I don’t drink.”

  “Oh…okay, good.”

  “I’m eighteen.”

  “I know that.”

  “You’re trying to provide alcohol to a minor.”

  I laughed. “You’re not a minor.”

  “True, but I’m not of legal drinking age, either.” I rolled my eyes and downed both glasses of champagne before sitting the delicate flutes down on one of the tables.

  “There, better?” She raised an eyebrow at me, but she didn’t say anything. “Let’s find a table and sit down.”

  “Sit at my table, little brother.” I hoped my flinch at the sound of my sister’s voice wasn’t apparent.

  “Hi, Chrissy.”

  “Hi.” My pretty sister smiled at me and then looked at Summer. “Hello, I don’t know you.”

  “Summer French, this is my sister Chrissy Spencer.”

  “Hello,” Summer said with a nervous smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “And you,” my sister said. She slung her arm through Summer’s free one and said, “I love that dress! Did you get it at Felton’s Boutique?”

  “Yes.”

  Chrissy started walking. Summer had no choice but to go with her, and I followed. “I love that store. When I don’t have time for an original, I go there every time. From across the room I thought this one was multi-colored, but I see the sleeves are your own.” Summer grimaced slightly before Chrissy said, “Where did you and my brother meet, Summer?”

  Summer glanced up at me and I tried to hide my smile as I heard her say, “We were in the surf shop in La Jolla at the same time one day…and the rest is history.”

  “Isn’t that sweet? So, you’re a surfer? I guess that explains the ink.”

  We both ignored the ink comment as I said, “I’m helping her get ready for a competition.”

  “Oh, well, you’ve always wanted to teach, so that worked out good.” My sister led us to her table. I was horrified to see who was already sitting there. Her friends Paris and Searcy were sitting there with a few others I didn’t know. Paris and Searcy are two of the biggest stuck-up bitches I’ve ever known.

  “Chrissy, I think we’re going to sit up closer to the bandstand.” Chrissy kept her grip on Summer’s arm.

  “Nonsense, it’s much too noisy up there. You won’t be able to hear yourselves think.” She introduced Summer to her friends. The whole time, Summer hadn’t looked at me. I suddenly realized what a mistake this was. She looked better than all of them put together, but they were all still looking at her like she was an outsider and for some reason, my sister’s claws were already out. “Sit down, Summer, and tell us about yourself. Where does your family come from?”

  Summer did look at me then. I wanted to pick her up and carry her out of there. I saw her pull on the hem of her dress as she sat. Of course, Chrissy never misses a thing. I saw her rake her eyes across the tattoos on Summer’s legs. I took a chair across from them as Summer was saying, “I grew up mostly on Long Island, but we traveled a lot.”

  “Of course,” Chrissy said. She thought Summer was talking about the kind of ceaseless traveling we di
d as kids, one vacation after the other.

  “My grandfather was a professional surfer.”

  “Oh my! But what about your parents?”

  “I never really knew them,” she said.

  “That’s a shame,” Chrissy said. Paris rolled her eyes and said,

  “Oh I don’t know. Some days I wish I’d never known mine.” They all laughed. Summer didn’t.

  “Summer, why don’t we go get something to eat?”

  “You go get her a plate, Drake,” my sister told me. I wanted to strangle her. “Be a gentleman.”

  “I’m really not hungry,” Summer said.

  “Go get her some appetizers, she can pick at them.”

  “Really, it’s okay…” Summer’s green eyes had panic in them. She didn’t want me to leave her and I wasn’t about to.

  “We’ll eat later. Do you want to dance?” Her eyes got wider. I hadn’t thought to ask if she could dance. I’m an idiot.

  “Sure.” Maybe she could dance. I got up and went around and took her hand.

  “We just started talking!” Chrissy pouted. “You’ll come back, right?”

  “Sure.” Summer scooted back her chair and stood up. All three of the women were looking at her legs now. Summer looked down and pulled on her skirt to cover the tats peeking out. As she did that, she teetered on her heels and had to reach forward and grab onto the table. I hoped she missed the subtle looks of amusement on my sister and her friend’s faces, but I doubted it. I started to lead her towards the dance floor, but she leaned in and whispered, “Maybe some air instead.”

  “Good idea, I’ll take you out and show you the garden out back.” I led her towards the French doors in the back of the ballroom. I opened them for her, and she stepped out into the fresh air and sucked in a breath.