Dirty: The Complete Series (Secret Baby Romance Love Story) (110 page)

“So let’s get to talking about the next
couple of clients that I’m giving you,” she said. I nodded and pulled up a new
document on my tablet to take notes. I had graduated two of my clientele the
week before, and I had been expecting two—maybe three—new coaching clients to
introduce myself to.
Hopefully, one or
more of them will help me get my mind off of Zeke for a while,
I thought
optimistically. I knew that not telling Katie about the goodnight kiss was a
fine line away from lying to her. I needed new clients. I needed to delve into
my work more generally. I was definitely in danger of putting too much thought
into Zeke Baxter if I didn’t, and that was one of the things I most wanted to
avoid.

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 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.