To Love An Older Man. Debbi Rawlins

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you aren’t thinking about stuff again, are you?”

      She turned away from the window and looked at him. He took his eyes away from the road long enough to give her a smile. It was kind and reassuring, but a little patronizing, too, and she couldn’t hold back any longer.

      “Mr., uh, David, I really appreciate what you’re doing for me. But I’m not a child. Don’t treat me like one.”

      Chapter Two

      David couldn’t wait to unload her on his mother. Had he really been treating Beth like a child? What had he said? He’d only advised her not to worry, not when she was tired and hungry. Anyway, she was young. Twenty-five was still…

      Hell, he’d graduated from law school at twenty-five and if anyone had so much as implied that he wasn’t a fully capable adult he would’ve had a few choice words for them. It didn’t matter that he’d still been riding his motorcycle without a helmet or that he always forgot to balance his checkbook, or that he’d let his bills stack up for two months at a time even though he’d had plenty of money in his account.

      Part of it was that Beth looked so young with her big blue eyes and scattering of freckles across her nose. She was short, probably not even five-two and her long hair hung past her shoulders in no particular style, the way girls used to wear it back in high school.

      He cursed to himself. High school. Amazing he could remember that far back. It seemed like a century ago.

      “You don’t live in the city?” Beth asked as they turned onto the bridge, her eyes widening on the arched lights of the Golden Gate.

      “No, Sausalito.”

      “I’ve never been there.”

      He glanced at her in surprise. “How long have you been living in San Francisco?”

      “Almost a year. But Tommy and I always seemed to be working so we didn’t go out much.”

      Amazing how calmly she could speak of the jerk, when he himself wanted to punch the guy’s lights out. “What do you do?”

      “I was a secretary.” She sighed. “But I got fired. I also worked as a waitress three evenings a week, but…” She turned to the window again, her shoulders sagging. “It didn’t work out.”

      No doubt Tom had a hand in getting her fired at that, as well. But she still said nothing negative about him, for which David didn’t know if he should admire her or shake her. Of course, he reminded himself, it was none of his business.

      She was none of his business. Only one night’s lodging. That’s all he’d offered her. As she’d pointedly informed him, she was not a child. She could take care of herself, even though she looked as if she were fifteen.

      He knew what was really bothering him. His birthday was coming up next month. The big one. And his mother had some awful notion that she should have a huge party for him. As if turning forty was something to celebrate.

      Well, there wouldn’t be any damn party, even if he had to take off to Hawaii for the weekend. He glanced over at Beth, who’d turned back to staring out the window. Maybe she was just the distraction his mother needed.

      He slowed as they approached the security gate at the bottom of his driveway. Beth gasped when he started to punch in the code to let them in, and he darted her a look.

      “You live here?” Her eyes were wide with surprise, her lips curved.

      He followed her gaze toward the house, or at least what could be seen of it through the trees and darkness. There were a lot of lights on but he wasn’t sure what had interested her. “This is home, all right.”

      “It’s huge, and there are so many lights and windows. Can you see the ocean from there?”

      “It’s built into the hill but we have a pretty good view of the bay from most rooms.” He finished putting in the code and watched the gate slowly swing open.

      As he drove up the winding driveway his gaze drew to the house. He’d had it built as high on the hill as possible for maximum view and privacy with more windows than was probably prudent. He had to admit, the place did look quite impressive with all the lights blazing through the trees. It had been a long time since he’d noticed or appreciated its simple beauty.

      “Gosh, this is incredible.” Beth continued to stare, wide-eyed as they rounded a curve into a clearing before the garden crawled up the slope to the house. “Keeping this place in shape must take all your weekends.”

      David laughed, but then realized she was serious when she darted him an odd look.

      She made a face. “That was silly of me. Of course you have someone to help you with all this.”

      Help? He cleared his throat. Not only had he never set foot in the garden, he couldn’t tell one flower from another. He hit the garage-door opener and impatiently edged the car in while the door lifted.

      As soon as they got inside, Beth would be his mother’s problem. She’d love every second of the fussing, and he could get to work. In his den. Alone. The thought held enormous appeal. Not that Beth was a bother but he liked routine, and having her beside him for the past half hour was anything but normal.

      He parked, turned off the engine and unfastened his seat belt. Beth sat motionless. He glanced over. She was pale.

      “What’s wrong?”

      She winced. “Nothing, really.”

      “Why are you holding your stomach?”

      “It’s nothing.”

      David hesitated, unsure what to do. Should he press her? Assume it really was nothing? Where the hell was his mother?

      Beth laid a hand on his arm. “Don’t worry. It’s not the baby or anything. I’m just a little carsick.”

      Her touch was gentle, featherlight, yet it sparked an odd sensation in him. Quickly he shifted away and got out of the car. “I may have taken the curves too fast. I wish you’d said something.”

      “I’m sorry.”

      “No need to apologize. I didn’t mean to—” He shook his head and went around the car to open her door. First opportunity he got, he was going to fire Tom Snyder’s ass. The guy had been such a jerk to the poor girl; she thought she had to apologize for getting sick.

      She’d already opened her door and swung her legs out of the car by the time he got there. He stopped and stared at her shapely calves and slim ankles. She was short but all legs. Great legs.

      Fortunately she was too busy trying to hold her stomach and lift herself out of the car to notice him staring. His reaction disgusted him. He had no business wondering what the rest of her looked like under that big coat. None whatsoever.

      “Here.” He offered her a hand.

      “I’m okay, but if you’d get my bag I’d appreciate it.” Her gaze warily slid up the stairs going

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