The Sandbar saga : Age Gap Romance

by Debra Kayn

  He clamped his hand down on surfer boy's shoulder. "Out. Now."

  Katie, taken out of the kiss, blinked at him as if she couldn't focus in her aroused state. He turned to the others and pointed his finger. "Party's over. Get out."

  The boys groaned but congregated together, grabbing their towels. He glared, catching their glances, blocking them from looking at Katie.

  When the last one walked down the side of the house out of sight, he turned to Katie and found her gone. The sliding door behind him shut.

  His relief that he'd separated her from her male friends never came. He'd need to talk to her about boundaries and looking within to soothe the frustrations going through her.

  She couldn't continue the kind of risky behavior that would get her in trouble, or worse, hurt.

  Chapter 19

  Race poured himself a cup of coffee and held the phone up to his ear. "Can you identify your negative thoughts?"

  Katie walked into the room, winding her hair up on the top of her head. He lifted his chin and motioned toward the stove where the teapot was warming, then walked out on the patio while Ann, one of his patients, listed what would happen if she attended the concert with her friends."

  He sipped the coffee and sat down in a chair, facing the pool. "Let's look at being around a crowd. What can you do to soften the noise?"

  "Don't go," said Ann.

  "How about wearing earplugs."

  While Ann listed the pros and cons of his suggestion, he kicked off his shoes and used his big toe to drag his socks off. It'd been a long day, and yet he had an open-call policy with a few of his patients that were on the verge of making it on their own. They came first before he relaxed for the night.

  "Worrying about others seeing your earplugs is a cognitive distortion. There are many reasons why people would wear ear protection at a concert. For one, to protect their hearing." He unbuttoned the front of his shirt, yanking the tails out of his trousers. "Yes, of course."

  Ann teeter tottered between wanting to go and making excuses. Finally, she decided to go for a half-hour, and if her anxiety worsened, she'd come home.

  "Remember, any amount of time you succeed at going out is something you can count as a reward. You're making the effort." After a few more words of encouragement, he disconnected the call.

  Tossing his phone on the cushion of the chair next to him, he rotated his shoulders, needing a good soak before he called it a night.

  "You made the woman feel good," said Katie behind him.

  He glanced behind him, waiting to strip off his clothes until Katie went inside. "You're not supposed to listen to my calls with patients."

  She walked around him and sat in a chair. "Am I just a patient to you?"

  "No." He frowned at her. "Why would you ask?"

  She pointed to her neck. "Your tone of voice when you were talking to her was similar to how you've talked to me. A lot. I don't like it."

  "You don't like my voice?"

  She shook her head, and her lips pinched together. He stood and walked over to her in his bare feet. Grabbing the arms of her chair, he leaned down and kissed her forehead.

  "Do you think I'd take care of you when you were a child, invite you into my house, live with you while you start a career if you were only a patient?" He waited until she looked up at him. "I don't kiss my patients on the forehead."

  She shuddered. "I don't like to think that you would."

  He studied her. Was she jealous?

  Straightening, he walked toward the house. "I'm going to grab a pair of shorts and take a soak in the hot tub. Grab your suit. It's too nice of a night to spend it inside."

  Not waiting to see if she would take his suggestion, he went into the bedroom. After changing, he walked back outside. Katie had left. Whether she was going to join him or not, he lowered himself into the sectioned area at the end of the pool and turned on the jets.

  Letting his head fall back, he closed his eyes.

  Something brushed his arm. He looked and found Katie sitting on the edge with only her lower legs in the water.

  "Aren't you going to get in?" He eyed her.

  She wore a bikini. All he could see were her breasts and her eyes.

  "No." She leaned over and cupped her hands in the hot tub and poured water over her thighs. "I took a shower earlier. I don't want to take another one to wash the chlorine off me."

  He closed his eyes again to keep from staring. It was hard to relax with her moving beside him, her leg brushing his arm.

  "Donna mentioned there was a real estate course coming up next month. Beachcomber Real Estate will pay for it if I want to go." She dribbled water over his shoulder.

  "Do you want to?"

  "I think so." She paused. "It'll take one hundred and fifty hours to complete, and then, of course, there's the state licensing exam I'd need to pass. You should see some of the money the realtors get when they sell waterfront homes or the ones up here in Sherwood Community. Selling one house in those areas would give me enough money to rent an apartment for a year, or close to it. Donna even mentioned that I'm a people person and would be a good fit if I wanted to work as a realtor for Beachcomber, can you believe it?"

  He lifted his head and opened his eyes, turning sideways to face her. "I can. You adapt well and have a non-confrontational personality with others. You put people at ease because you're not pushy. There's nothing worse than a realtor or car salesmen that pushes a product on a customer or drowns a person in personality."

  She raised her brows. "That's one way to say it, I suppose. I just don't know if I'm that outgoing to approach people."

  "Most of them come to you. They'll be seeking a realtor to help them. You're good at helping others."

  She shrugged. "I'm going to think about it for the rest of the week before I give her an answer. I do know that the job I'm doing now will only be temporary. I can't expect you to foot the bill for food, and you won't let me contribute to your house payment or anything."

  "You don't have to worry about that." His overheated body had enough of the hot tub, and he stood. "I'm going to swim a couple laps and cool off. Want to match me?"

  She shook her head. "Still don't want to get in the pool."

  He chuckled and walked over to the wall and climbed over, sliding into the colder water, even though the temperature was warm. While he swam, he thought of the progress Katie had made toward working.

  She was dedicated, never missing a day. Her coworkers invited her out often and seemed to enjoy being around her. She'd come to him for his opinion, but he could tell she'd already made up her mind—she'd independently set goals for herself and was going after them.

  He swam one more lap. Maybe he'd focused too much on her hanging out with Pete and his friends and let his own confusion about letting her grow up cloud his opinion.

  Instead of going to the steps, he pulled himself out of the water. Katie stood there with a towel.

  "Thanks." He dried his face and chest. "I'm proud of you."

  "Because I'm thinking about the class?"

  "No, not just that." He lowered the towel. "You've grown up and figured out what you want in life now. A lot of people older than you struggle, especially when it comes to jobs and planning for the future."

  She stared at his chest. "I couldn't do it without you."

  "Sure, you can." He reached out and curled his finger around her ear, playing with her earring.

  She smiled, sadness tugging at the corners of her mouth. "I still think about everything."

  "You always will," he said, knowing what she was talking about. "I still think about my mom."

  Her gaze softened. "You must miss her."

  "I do." He tossed the towel to the chair. "But it gets easier. It doesn't mean I forget the love and good times."

  "What about your dad?" She slipped her hand into his. "You never talk about him. You've just mentioned that he had passed away."

  "Do I miss him?" He looked down at her holding hi
s hand as if to comfort him. "I suppose you want an honest answer."

  She nodded. As if their roles were reversed, he rubbed his jaw. It would be easy to say yes and be done with the conversation, but that would be a lie, and he wasn't going to start keeping stuff from Katie when they'd always remained truthful to each other.

  "No, I don't miss him."

  "And, that's all right to feel that way." She lifted his hand and kissed his knuckles. "A very wise psychologist told me that once."

  "Should I be jealous?" His voice had gone husky.

  She shook her head and raised her gaze again, more intense than before. "Why didn't you like him?"

  "Lots of reasons, but mainly how he treated my mom. He had many affairs while married to her, and somehow or someway, he'd lost respect for her—probably his own guilt getting the better of him." Surprised it was easy to admit that to Katie, he didn't mind that she was curious about his past.

  "Can I tell you something?" she asked.

  "Go ahead."

  "There was only one reason my dad was with Miss Cynthia out on the sandbar and even knowing how awful my mom was to live with and they didn't have a good relationship, that wasn't the right thing for him to do." She looked up at him. "I figured that out a few years ago, but never told you."

  "Why not?"

  "Because before that, I thought my dad was perfect. I needed to hold on to that image of having one parent that truly made me happy." She exhaled, gave her head a small shake, and then looked away from him. "I don't need that picture in my head anymore."

  Curious to know how she'd achieved ways to cope with an upset from her past, something she rarely let him see, he said, "Why not?"

  "Because I have you." She kissed his hand again, then let him go. "Want a root beer float?"

  "Sure." He stayed outside as she walked into the house.

  Rolling the conversation around in his head, warning bells went off, telling him she shouldn't look to him for stability. That he could only fill a small part of her life, and she must look outside her circle to find the connections and strength that would serve her well as she moved forward.

  That someday, she wouldn't need him. That she'd look at another man and trust him.

  But he couldn't stop wanting to be the man who gave her the love she desperately needed.

  Chapter 20

  Music assaulted Race's ears the moment he stepped out of his car in the driveway. He stared at the house, knowing who was responsible for blasting the neighborhood at five o'clock in the evening. Katie had obviously gotten home from work before he finished his rounds at the hospital.

  Striding up to the front door, he found it unlocked. He dropped his briefcase in the foyer and marched through the house. In the kitchen, he pulled out Katie's phone from the wireless speaker, silencing the noise. His ears continued to drum.

  Katie ran through the open sliding glass door and pulled up short at seeing him. "I didn't know you were home."

  "Obviously." He set her phone on the counter. "You know the rules. Music stays at a decent level, so the neighbors can't hear it."

  "Ugh." She planted her hands on her hips. "All the neighbors are old. They probably can't hear anyways."

  "What?" he said.

  He eyed her. She'd been in the pool. Her bikini was wet, and she had goosebumps.

  "All the neighbors are old. They probably can't..." She wagged her finger at him. "Oh, funny. I see what you did there."

  He chuckled and picked up the stack of mail on the counter. "Go ahead and set your music up, but don't deafen me. Remember, I am old."

  Walking out the sliding doors, he sat at the outdoor table and shuffled through the mail he'd let stack up the last few days. He separated the practice's bills from his personal ones. Tomorrow, he'd deal with them. Toni, the woman he hired for accounts and receivables, would pick up the folder on Friday and have everything completed by Monday.

  Katie's music came on. Loud, but not enough it'd have the neighbors knocking at his door. He unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled the sleeves up past his elbows. It'd been a hell of a day.

  Two of his patients had voluntarily checked themselves into the hospital for a seventy-two-hour stay at his urging. His consult that morning lasted two hours. An hour and a half longer than he'd planned.

  Hands landed on his shoulders. His body went on alert. "What are you doing?"

  "You're tense. I'll work out the stress in your life and put you in a better mood." Katie's body brushed the back of his head.

  He knew enough to know that it was her breasts that made contact with him.

  Her thumbs dug into the cords of his neck. He groaned at the sudden pain. A pain so pleasurable, he dropped his chin forward, giving her more access.

  She shouldn't be touching him. Even in the privacy of his backyard.

  "Oh, I love this song." Her hands squeezed his muscles in time to the beat. "Have you heard it?"

  "No," he muttered, unable to make himself stop her from giving him a massage.

  She danced her way around the chair and picked up his hand. "Come on, dance with me."

  He pulled out of her hold. "I don't dance."

  "Everyone dances." She grooved to the music, raising her arms in the air.

  Prancing in front of him, she shook her ass. The smile on her face mesmerized him. He couldn't do much more than watch and hope she stopped. Or, continued.

  He stretched his legs out and crossed his ankles. She stepped over his legs, not letting him widen his personal space.

  The bikini top barely covered her breasts. All the material accomplished was covering her nipples. Nipples that poked at the thin, white triangle.

  His body pulsed in one big rhythm. "Katie."

  She needed to stop.

  Katie put her hands on his shoulders and leaned toward him. He had a clear view of her breasts hanging, cupped by the small triangles. He fisted his hands to keep from reaching up and weighing them in his palms.

  "What?" She continued to gyrate her body, no less than performing a lap dance in front of him.

  "I thought you were going swimming." He kept his gaze on her mouth.

  She wet her lips with her tongue. "I was only sitting on the steps of the pool when you were gone, trying to get the last bit of sunshine for the day because my tan is fading."

  His cock pulsed to full hardness. "You need to stop."

  "Stop what?" Her bottom swayed one direction while her upper body another.

  "Dancing like that around me." He gripped the arms of the chair and squeezed.

  He only had so much control and going by her devilish gaze, she knew damn well what she was doing to him.

  Her lower lip came out, and she danced away from him a few feet. "You need to lighten up, Dr. C. Life is for the living."

  He stood before she could come back and trap him in the chair. Her throwback to calling him Dr. C noted, loud and clear.

  When she was underage and living at St. Mary's, he had kept that formality to their relationship, knowing she needed to understand the doctor-patient relationship, but that all went to the wayside when she'd moved in.

  She suddenly turned and grabbed both his hands, putting them on her hips. "Do what I do."

  "I don't dance." He stood there, holding her hips.

  "Ah." She grinned, rubbing against him. "That may be true, but you're dancing with me now."

  He still wasn't dancing.

  He cocked his brow. "Why don't we sit and talk."

  "I don't want to." She wrapped her arms around his neck.

  The length of her body pressed against him. Naturally and automatically, his body responded. She was young, innocent, and obviously pushing her sexuality and experimenting with the opposite sex.

  It was natural for her age group to do what felt exciting and right. It was how everyone, at one point in their life, learned about themselves and what pleased them.

  It wasn't him that she wanted. He was only convenient and safe for her to spread her wings. Sexual
exploration was the initiation into adulthood and would shape, not only how she felt about herself, but about others.

  She probably hadn't learned how to take those feelings and pleasure herself.

  He swallowed hard. Imagining her hot, worked up, and struggling to orgasm. The surprise at the intensity shaking her very foundation, she would call his name.

  "Race!" Katie laughed. "You're not even listening to me."

  He set her away from him, extracting her arms from around him. "We need to stop."

  Needing space, he walked toward the house to go back in. Maybe pour himself a couple of drinks to forget how she could easily make him forget his position in her life.

  Her body collided with his back, and she wrapped her arms around him from behind. "Stay with me."

  His head pounded. He turned and caught her upper arms, pinning her limbs to her side.

  "This isn't appropriate." His gaze softened at the pinched look on her face. "If you want to talk, I'm here. But, no touching."

  "You like it." She challenged him.

  "I'm just a man, Katie." He nodded once. "That doesn't make it right to take advantage of what you're offering."

  "Says who?" She hadn't gotten her way, and she was going to throw questions back at him to deflect.

  Tears pooled in her eyes. His body vibrated. It wasn't upsetting her or the fact he'd made her cry—he'd done those things many times over the years in the name of helping her.

  He was losing control because she was right. There was nothing wrong with how they felt toward each other.

  "Young women your age are feeling a lot, and it's perfectly normal to experiment and enjoy yourself, responsibly." His jaw ached from holding back. "You deserve someone who can—"

  "I want you." She strained against his hold, trying to get closer to him.

  "No." His throat clamped down.

  He needed to be stronger than their unreasonable need to be together. To protect her. To give her a fighting chance at life.

  "No, Katie. It can never happen," he whispered.

  "Please." She whined, reaching for him again.

  His head pounded. "It's normal for you to feel you want to be with me because of our relationship. I'm your psychologist, Katie."