The Sandbar saga : Age Gap Romance

by Debra Kayn

  Anyone she permitted into her life would realize she would always doubt the levels of love given to her. She would forever believe every heartache, hardship, and loss that touched her would come about because of something she had done or thought.

  Stopping her worry, he winked in approval. Katie's brows softened in relief, and she winked back, pursing her lips. The smile inside of him tugged at his mouth. She'd been practicing.

  During spring break, she'd come home with him and spent ten days trying to blink with one eye, and then added what she referred to as duck lips to make it more feminine. Her antics had amused him for hours, long after she'd left and returned to school.

  He exhaled quietly through a tight chest. The time had come to let her go.

  He'd given her everything he had in support, knowing she depended on him more than anyone suspected. She sought his approval, no matter how many ways he tried to push her toward experiencing life with her peers.

  The prayer ended. The principal wished them all well, and the eighty-seven female class members stood and threw their caps in the air.

  Several girls came over and hugged Katie. She smiled, laughed, spoke, and acted exactly like someone who had put their school days behind them tonight, ready to step out and make her footprints in the world.

  He stood and walked down the bleachers, beating the crowd. Escaping the suffocation pressing down on him of an uncertain future.

  The last of Katie's belongings were already packed and picked up before graduation, having shipped most of her things to his house over two weeks ago. All he had to do was wait for her to come to him.

  To go home.

  To be with him.

  Nodding at the nun holding the door, he stepped outside. The last time he'd been around a crowd that size, he'd received his doctorate degree.

  He walked out to his car and leaned against the side, watching the door for Katie. At thirty-six years old, his days were spent seeing patients one on one. The cottage where he met with his patients only a hundred feet from his backdoor.

  His off-hours spent doing mental checks at the hospital and going twice a week to Puget Sound to see Katie. His hour visits early on had quickly turned to two hours, three hours, four hours the older she became, and the more freedom she was rewarded at St. Mary's.

  Now, she'd be coming home with him. Katie would live in a bedroom in his house. Their lives would combine.

  Though the end result shouldn't surprise him. He'd seen what was happening years ago when she made him promise not to leave her.

  Several classmates of Katie's rushed out of the front door. The excitement in their loud voices and the animation in their reddened faces still carried the high from graduating.

  Family members waved and gathered on the brick walkway leading to the stairs. What the hell was he doing here?

  These parents had raised their child for eighteen years, gone through the terrible two's, junior high with the backtalking, rebellious attitudes, and set a course for their kid that would please all of them.

  All he'd done was support Katie financially and emotionally. He'd supplied her with enough necessities to make her comfortable, and been an ear when she wanted to talk. He'd failed professionally to get her to believe that she wasn't responsible for her father's death, her mother's failure to parent, and most of all, to see how she was worth loving.

  She was the one case where he hadn't been pleased with her progress. At eighteen years old, she should be independent and ready to break away from therapy. She showed no signs of wanting to stop.

  And, he was damned if her dependence on him hadn't fed some part of his soul.

  Katie walked out of the building, looking for him. He held up his arm and felt the moment she spotted him in his gut.

  He had to let her go.

  She bounced with each step. Her thick hair waved down her back, and her step lightened. He hit the button on his keychain and stepped back, opening the passenger door for her.

  She paused in front of him, giving him a bright, white smile, and shimmied, undulating her shoulders. "School's over. Uh. Huh. I'm done. Let's go."

  He shook his head at her silliness. "Get in."

  She slid into the car. He shut the door and walked around the front to get in the driver's seat. Thankful she was already buckled, he started the engine and entered traffic. He wouldn't miss traveling two and a half hours each way, twice a week.

  "Remember, take I-5." She played with the stereo, finding a loud and fast song to fill the silence in the car.

  Her fear of the Megler Bridge stemmed from her father dying on the sandbar with the woman he was having an affair with. A fact her mother hadn't kept to herself but thought her eight-year-old daughter needed to know. To make matters worse, the woman involved with her father was Katie's piano teacher. Another person close to her who had left her life dramatically.

  As it often happened, he replayed all the progress Katie had made through the sessions with him, trying to figure out how he could remove the scars left behind. While he held no confidence in hypnosis, he needed to call Greg at the clinic and see what he thought of the odds of it working for Katie.

  She yawned loudly, and her head rolled to the side, facing him. "I don't know how to drive."

  "You just figured that out?" He chuckled.

  "It's been on my mind lately."

  "Do you want to learn?"

  "I think so." She paused. "Yes, I do. I'll need to know how before I get a job."

  "You should think about going to college. You could live on campus. There's no need for a car when you'll be studying in all your free time."

  "I don't want to go."

  "Then, go to a community college. There's a bus that can pick you up in Astoria."

  "I thought you said I could stay with you this summer while I figured out how to earn money to get an apartment." She sat up straighter. "Have you changed your mind?"

  "No, you're free to stay with me. I don't think you should worry about getting an apartment. With college, you won't have time to work to live off-campus." He pushed the button on the steering wheel, turning the stereo down. "It'll be hard to get a job without an education, and I'll pay your way to get a degree."

  She reached out and pushed his upper arm. "Ho' down, Jose'. You're thinking like a doctor. Where do you shop?"

  "What kind of question is that?"

  "Humor me." She crossed her legs. "Where do you shop for groceries? Buy your coffee? Get your car worked on? Where do you get your taxes done? Where do you take your dates? There are a lot of jobs that don't require a college degree."

  "Point taken." He glanced over at her. "Do you think that will be enough to get you a car? An apartment?"

  "Someday." She looked forward. "It took you eight years to become a psychologist."

  "Nine," he muttered.

  "How long did it take you to pay off your student loans?"

  Damn. He cracked the window open, letting in some fresh air. No wonder she passed her debate class.

  "This isn't about me. We're talking about your life." He changed lanes, passing the car in front of him before getting back into the right lane. "We don't have to discuss anything now. You graduated tonight. Ride the high and enjoy your newfound freedom for the summer before you buckle down."

  She stopped the conversation, going back to looking out the windshield. He thought about turning the music up, but she was no longer paying attention.

  Halfway home, Katie fell asleep. Her ideals were dosed with inexperience.

  St. Mary's sheltered her while preparing her for college. Hell, they even bussed in boys from the Jesuit school to attend the dance each quarter. She'd seen very little of the real world.

  He gave her three months, and she'd want to enroll at Clatsop Community College. That would be a good start.

  Chapter 16

  Rain splattered the windshield. Race turned up the speed of the wipers, trying to see through the fog covering the inside of the glass. His overheated b
ody from his run worked against him, and he used the back of his hand to wipe the condensation off.

  Losing the battle, he turned the defrost on high and rolled his window half down. He couldn't get any wetter.

  Pulling through the gate of Sherwood Community, he hugged the shoulder of the road with his car and wound his way up to Hill Street. Looking ahead at the house, he relaxed. Katie had beat him home.

  Parking beside her new car—a car that was twenty years old and on its last wheel, he gritted his teeth and jogged up to the door. She should've allowed him to buy her a dependable vehicle. The salt air had already eaten through the undercarriage of the beater she purchased with the money she'd earned working at Beachcomber Real Estate answering phones and being the gopher at the office.

  On the step, he took off his shoes and socks, knocking off the sand he'd collected on the beach during his run. The door opened before he could put his hand on the knob, and Katie stared woodenly at him.

  Forgetting the need to keep the elements out, he walked inside and put his arm around her. "What's wrong?"

  "The storm. Your note." Her chin chattered. "The bridge."

  He shook his head. "I went to Fort Stevens and ran on the beach."

  "Y-you never crossed the Megler Bridge?" She shook.

  He rubbed his hands along her arms, holding her in front of him. "I took the New Youngs Bay Bridge."

  Her body sagged. He wrapped his arms around her, rubbing circles on her back. He'd hoped over the years her fear of the unknown dangers of the sandbar with the tides coming in would fade. But her maturity only deepened the upset that came over her each time she even thought about him driving over the bridge. Her reactions intensified if there was rain or a storm in the air.

  Sometimes, he suspected her desire to become a real estate broker was driven by her knowledge that she could focus on the market within Clatsop County and avoid going over to Washington. She had no problems driving over the New Youngs Bay Bridge to work every day.

  Her body warmed against him. Realizing he still had on his wet clothes from getting caught out in the storm, he pulled her away from him.

  "I'm going to get some coffee going. Do you want me to put the teakettle on?" He studied her until she nodded. "Will you be okay while I grab a shower?"

  "Are you going to stay at home?"

  He caressed her cheek with the pad of his thumb. "I'm home for the night."

  He was scheduled to meet Sharon Boitano, a nurse at the local hospital, for drinks and dinner, but he'd cancel.

  Katie squeezed his arms, assuring herself he was here and okay. "I'll start the coffee."

  Knowing she'd pulled herself together enough to move forward and put the storm behind her, he left her alone to go to his bedroom. Canceling his date by text, knowing he was selfish and rude, he stripped off his sweat-ridden shirt, shorts, boxers, and walked into the adjoining bathroom.

  He set the water to warmer than usual and stepped under the showerhead. The first assault of the spray brought a groan from him, and he closed his eyes, letting the heat penetrate his skin. He regretted trying immersion therapy on Katie when she was fifteen years old.

  He'd thought the distance away from the bridge with her going to school in Washington would let her view the session as less intimidating since she could leave and not have a visual reminder every time she stepped out the front door or went to the store.

  Fisting his hands at his side, he tried to forget the way she trembled against him. Her reaction had him wanting to surround her with a bubble, protect her from her fears. As her psychologist, he had to put his personal feelings aside.

  He hung his head, letting the water beat down on his neck. His label meant nothing the moment he signed papers taking responsibility for her. Their doctor-patient relationship had ended when his emotions came into factor.

  The barrier he'd sworn to uphold had crumbled long before that.

  Washing his hair and body, he rinsed off the soap. He blinked open his eyes only to have the room go dark. Shit.

  He turned off the water, grabbed blindly for a towel, and dried off his body. The wind howled outside with the lack of power muffling the noise.

  Wanting to get out to Katie to distract her from the storm, he walked into the bedroom. Careful when moving, he took one step at a time, skirting the dresser, the bed, and patted the exterior wall until he found the curtain he hadn't opened earlier.

  With the drapes out of the way, the gray sky gave enough light to the room, he could see everything. He turned to go to his closet.

  The door opened, and Katie entered holding a lit candle in a jar. "The power went out..."

  Her gaze went to his chest, to his stomach, and lower, and her jaw dropped. His cock pulsed to life before he could put his hands in front of him and turn away.

  "Put the candle there." He motioned with his chin and cleared the roughness out of his tone. "Then, close the door."

  She remained staring. His cock throbbed in attention behind his hands. Her innocence and curiosity stroked him.

  "Katie," he said softly. "Let me get dressed, and then I'll come out."

  The cords on her slim neck convulsed, and she looked up, meeting his eyes. Her flushed cheeks came not from embarrassment, but arousal.

  "Get out," he bellowed, aching in frustration.

  She jolted, whirled, and left the room without closing the door. He strode across the floor and slammed the door.

  Breathing heavily, he walked into the bathroom, putting as much distance between him and Katie as possible, and leaned over and gripped the counter. All his blood roared. His skin itched.

  He reached down and clutched his cock, giving it one hard stroke, hoping it would calm the hell down. Pleasure curled around his tailbone. Gritting his teeth, he squeezed his dick. He exhaled harshly, closing his eyes at the onslaught of pleasure

  Braced with his hand on the counter, he stroked slowly. Katie's wide-eyed gaze burned in his memories and showed behind his closed eyelids.

  She looked at him.

  Watched him.

  Wanted him.

  He beat his cock angerly. Imagining her walking toward him, unafraid, tempting. Her arm stretched out as she curled each finger around the width of him. Stroking, marveling, entranced as she held his gaze and slowly brought him pleasure.

  Slowly.

  As if each stroke heightened her own arousal.

  He groaned, matching her desires. His grip loosened. She'd be gentle, hesitant at first.

  The heat coming off his cock warmed his palm. Basked in stimulation, even his skin throbbed. He hardened for her. Grew bigger for her. Wacked himself off for her.

  His balls drew up to his body. He pushed off the counter, straightening until his thighs leaned against the edge of the granite. All the while, he stroked, steady, firm.

  Pleasure went down his spine. He tilted his pelvis forward, jerking his cock faster.

  His ass clenched. Relief hovered over him, and he reached. Reached. Reached.

  His body tensed. He muffled his groan as his climax encased him. Several seconds later, he shot his come in the sink, out of breath.

  He hung his head and gathered air into his lungs. Opening his eyes, his fantasy ended.

  He washed his hands and cock, then dressed in a pair of jeans and a buttoned shirt. Walking out of the room barefooted, he rolled up his sleeves as he entered the kitchen.

  Katie stood at the sink, her back to him. He flinched, guilty over losing control. He should never have acted on his desires.

  He cleared his throat. "I guess with the power going out, it means no coffee and no tea."

  It was natural for her to be embarrassed about barging into his room and catching him naked and witnessing his arousal. Yet, she was old enough to understand the lack of control they had over their own bodies when it came to natural urges.

  She slowly turned around. Her brow was lowered in concentration. He reached around her to get a glass out of the cupboard and filled it with
water, aware that she studied him.

  "Why don't you date?" she asked.

  He choked on the water he drank. Lowering the glass, he coughed. "What kind of question is that?"

  "I've never heard you talk about a girlfriend, and you've got to admit, you spent two days out of the week traveling to see me at school for six years. With your practice and your other patients, that doesn't leave much time to have a relationship. You go out, but you always mention a few names." She reached behind her and held on to the counter.

  The movement thrust out her breasts. He put the glass down and tried not to look.

  "I had a date planned tonight." He looked at her, challenging her to judge his life when it was the guilt over using Katie as his fantasy that put him in a bad mood. "I canceled it."

  Katie lowered her gaze to his chest and raised her brows. "Why?"

  "Because you needed me." He stepped back, needing to get away from her until he had more control over himself.

  "Wait," she said.

  Not giving her time to change his mind, he said, "I'll be out in the cottage working. There should be enough light in there to see with. You know where to find me if you need anything."

  Escaping the house, he strode across the wet grass, ignoring the rain wetting his shirt. All he knew was that he needed to get away from her and figure out where he'd gone wrong.

  Chapter 17

  The front door of the cottage slammed shut. Race lowered the file he was going over and looked expectantly at the door. Katie had left an hour ago to go on a walk with Paige, one of the realtors at her work.

  "Dr. C?" Katie ran into the room, coming to a stop. "Why didn't you tell me my mother sold the house?"

  "Race."

  She glared. "Fine. Race."

  "You never asked." He leaned back in the chair. "I thought you went for a walk on the beach."

  "We came here and walked the path." She sank down in the chair in front of the desk, her slim, bare legs going in opposite directions as she sulked. "We went two and a half miles, then double backed to round it up to five miles, which took us past my old house. Twice. Where is she?"