Page 97 of The Sandbar saga

The only time she'd received flowers before was when Race sent them on her sixteenth birthday. He'd done it while she was in class, and all the other girls made a huge production of her having a boyfriend. She never told the girls who sent the delivery but had pressed the flowers in her books to save each one. In one of the boxes in the spare room upstairs, those dried flowers were still packed away.

"What's in the box?" asked Callie.

Startled out of her memory, she turned. "I don't know. Let's see."

Pulling the red ribbon off the white box, she lifted the lid and gasped. She held up a dress and noticed a purple, smaller dress, underneath. She hummed in approval.

"It looks like your daddy bought both of us a new dress." She picked up Callie's and handed it to her.

It was fancy with lace and a billowing skirt. Like what a princess would wear.

Callie pulled off her shirt, already stripping down to try on her new dress. Katie held up the black number and shook her head in awe. The slim cut would hug her curves. The scooped neck turned into a plunging backless number.

Her stomach fluttered. She wanted nothing more than to try on the gift and look in the mirror.

"Help me," said Callie.

Putting her beautiful dress down, she helped Callie slip her gift over her head. "Now, be careful with it."

"I want to see it."

She laughed. "Go ahead and run upstairs. You can use my big mirror in my bedroom."

When Callie was out of the kitchen, Katie turned back and looked at her dress. Her adrenaline spiked. Race wanted to take her out Saturday. Was that a good idea or a bad one?

She looked over at the empty box, noticing another envelope. Heart thudding, she pulled out the card.

Don't say no ~ Race

She let her head fall back and closed her eyes. Her mind made up, all she could think about was what they were going to do? What would he say when he saw the dress on her?

"Mommy, your phone is ringing," yelled Callie from upstairs.

Dropping the envelope, she ran through the house, up the stairs, and dived onto her bed, snatching her phone off her pillow. Out of breath, she answered, "Yes."

"Yes?"

She rolled onto her back, laughing softly. "Definitely, yes."

Race said, "Get a babysitter. I'll pick you up at seven o'clock."

He disconnected the call, making it impossible for her to say no or ask any questions about what they were going to do on Saturday. The total surprise and invite left her buzzing. She couldn't think about the reasons why he'd bought her and Callie flowers and dresses.

Stretching her arms above her head, she was hit with excitement. She squealed, kicking her legs in the air.

Race asked her out on a date. It was the most normal thing he'd ever done for her.

The way he went about sending her gifts, sending Callie gifts, beat everything he'd done in the past—which were monumental.

As a psychologist, he came into her life paid to help her. He'd continued because he cared about her. Eventually, he took on the job of raising, supporting, and financially seeing her through life.

Her love for him was complex, layered, and encompassing.

She was desperate for his love. Always had been, always would be.