Dr. Kevin McCarthy sat at the bar at the Beachcomber and watched Chelsea work. Watching her was one of his favorite things to do, second only to being naked in a bed with her. She was tall and lean with curves in all the right places, lovely gray-blue eyes and a long blonde braid down her back, the sexiest woman he’d ever been with, hands down. Yes, he was a bit obsessed with her, but so what? Who was he hurting by indulging in a deeply satisfying relationship?

That he was also having the best sex of his life with a woman sixteen years his junior was no one’s business but his—and hers. Nursing a beer, he thought about his sons, Riley and Finn, and the odd vibe of disapproval he’d been getting from them in the last couple of weeks. It was funny, in a way, when you thought about the many nights he’d sat up waiting for them to come home over the years. Now it was his turn, and they weren’t happy about his new relationship—not that either of them had actually said so.

He was trying to be sensitive to how hard it was for them to see their father with someone other than their mother, but ending the marriage hadn’t been his idea. Maybe they needed to spend some time with their mother so he wouldn’t be the only one taking heat from them.

As much as he wished it didn’t, their disapproval irritated him. He’d worked his ass off to support his family. He’d been a faithful, if sometimes inattentive, husband. His wife of nearly thirty years had left him, not the other way around. What right did his sons have to make him feel guilty for moving on with someone new?

They didn’t. They had no right at all to make him feel this way when he was enjoying himself enormously with Chelsea.

“What’s on your mind, Doc?”

He looked up to see her standing before him, eyeing the shredded mess of paper on the bar in front of him. He’d been tearing up a cocktail napkin without realizing it. Scooping up the scraps, he balled them into a wad. “Nothing. Sorry. Almost done?”

“Just have to clean up. You want one for the road?”

“Nah, I’m good, thanks.”

She gave him another curious look before moving on to finish up.

Kevin rolled the ball of paper between his palms. If he were one of his patients, he’d be telling himself to talk it over with his sons. Except, he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to hear the reasons why his relationship with Chelsea was a bad idea, doomed to fail before it even got off the ground.