Sleeping with a Billionaire - Complete Series (An Alpha Billionaire Romance Love Story)

by Nella Tyler

  “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 getting 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 t
hat 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 against 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?

  I pushed that idea aside; most of my clients wouldn’t have been nearly so capable of interacting with Brady in an appropriate way as Zeke had been. A lot of them that I’d worked with—past and present—would have made the event into a nightmare of epic proportions simply because they couldn’t remember that they were around a child. It was definitely a point in Zeke’s favor that he’d gone with the flow and looked out for boredom from my son.

  My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I watched Brady for a few moments longer, making sure he wasn’t doing anything that might make a momentary lapse of attention a danger to him. He was down in the sand with some of the other kids, involved in one of the many incomprehensible projects they invented at a moment’s notice; he wasn’t likely to put himself in any danger in a span of a few seconds, and that was long enough to read whatever text message had come to my phone. I slipped my phone out of my pocket and unlocked the screen.

  I have our next date set up, if Tuesday works for you. The message had come from Zeke, and I felt myself grinning almost before I realized I was doing it. I shook my head, glancing up from my phone to make sure that Brady was still okay. He was fine—still absorbed in his playing with the other kids in the sand pit. I typed my reply to Zeke.

  Where will the date be? Is there any particular way I should dress? I tried to suppress the little tingle of excitement I felt, reminding myself that it was a practice session—it wasn’t a romantic thing. We would just be interacting together, conversing, and I would be coaching him about what he could do differently, how he should conduct himself in a particular setting.

  It’s going to be a surprise. Meet me outside of the Burleigh Mall. That was definitely a novel approach, I felt a little uneasy at a surprise date, but I had to admit that it was unlikely Zeke was going to put me in a position to embarrass myself. Just when I was going to press for some kind of detail—at least enough to know how to dress, apart from my usual professional standards—my phone vibrated again, and his follow-up text popped up. Dress however you want, we’re not going to be going anywhere too fancy. I messaged him back that I understood and put my phone back into my pocket, telling myself that even if I was excited, I was at the park to play with my little boy.

  I mulled over the possibilities of a date that would require us to meet at the mall, even as I joined Brady over by the swings. Burleigh Mall had a bunch of restaurants, an arcade, one of those rock wall places, and a whole lot of other attractions. As I pushed Brady on the swings, I tried not to let myself be too excited about the prospect of my next practice date with Zeke. After all, there was nothing between us except for a professional relationship. He had wanted to kiss me again, but I told myself that it was just because he was a guy, and only because he wanted to see what he could get from me—not out of any interest in me particularly. I couldn’t help but wonder what we would be doing together the next time we met in a few days though; even as Brady and I played until he was so tired I knew he’d fall asleep on the way home, I wanted some hint, some clue as to what Zeke had in store for me. It wasn’t a feeling I’d ever had with any of my clients before, and that—I knew—was dangerous.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Zeke

  Natalie was standing at the entrance to the mall, waiting for me, and I grinned to myself as I walked up, anticipating the fun of the idea I’d had. Burleigh Mall was the biggest mall in the state—so I’d known when I’d planned our date that a surprise would be easy to pull off. There were so many things we could have done just within the mall itself, but I remembered something that Natalie had told me when I’d asked her in passing what kinds of dates in general were best: “Simple things—you really don’t need frills when it comes to a good date. It’s all about connecting, getting to know someone.”

  She saw me as I approached, and gave me a little wave and a smile. “How’s Brady?” I asked as soon as I was within greeting distance.

  “He is having a great time with his sitter. She informed me a few minutes ago by text that they’re working on a puzzle together,” Natalie replied. She looked around quickly and then met my gaze again. “So do I get to know what the surprise is now that we’re both here?”

  I nodded. “I’m taking you shopping,” I told her. “Any store you want to go in, anything you want to buy.” Her eyes widened.

  “That’s…” she licked her lips and for just a second, all I could think about was how it had been to kiss her; I pushed the thought out of my head. “That seems a bit extreme for a practice date. Did your PA plan this?” I shook my head.

  “I planned it myself,” I replied. “And you were the one who told me that dating is about getting to know someone, and making a connection, right? Shopping seems like a good way to do that—you get to talk about the things you like and don’t like, stuff like that.” She stared at me for a moment longer.

  “It seems like it could get really expensive with someone else though,” she said hesitantly.

  “It’s a practice date,” I told her, shrugging. “I have plenty of money in the bank, and I think it’ll be fun.” I wagged my finger at her a bit. “I checked with the agency: there is nothing inappropriate about a shopping date.” She raised an eyebrow at that.

  “You checked?” she laughed, shaking her head.

  “I did. I asked if there was a price limit allowed on the dates that I go on with you as my coach, an
d they said that there wasn’t. And I asked if shopping would be considered acceptable, and they said it was up to me to decide how I wanted to spend my practice sessions with you—within reason, of course.” She pressed her lips together and for a second I thought I’d screwed up again, that she’d tell me that I’d come up with the worst plan for an evening out together that could possibly exist.

  “We can browse, at least,” she said finally. I smirked. I am going to find a way to convince her to actually let me buy something, I told myself.

  “If there’s nothing you want, then of course we don’t have to buy anything,” I agreed. “But we can at least wander around and look, right?” She gave me a quick up-and-down look, her eyes full of skepticism, and then she nodded.

  “I can go along with that,” she told me. I gestured for her to precede me into the mall, and took advantage of the moment she turned around towards the entrance to take in the outfit she’d chosen; like always, Natalie looked clean-cut, professional, but slightly casual, with a pair of jeans that fit her perfectly and a blouse that went with it, green with some kind of lace on the sleeves and at the hem. She’d worn sensible heels and a bracelet on her wrist. God she’s hot. If the women they actually set me up with are even half as hot as she is, I’ll be lucky. I followed her into the mall and we started off, looking around.

  “Where do you want to check out first?” I gestured all around us, ending my pointing at the big layout display. She took a quick breath, and I could see the wheels turning in her head.

  “You’re going to hate this,” she said, grinning at me. “I want to look at a couple of things for Brady.”

  “Lead the way,” I said, spreading my hands out in front of me and matching her smile. I had thought—once she gave into the idea of the date—that she’d turn it into something that she thought would irritate me like that. I was still determined to get her to pick something for herself that I could buy for her, but I was willing to go along with her until she started to get comfortable with the idea.