A Nurse to Tame the ER Doc

by Janice Lynn

  He nodded. “Technically, it’s called a crawfish, but you won’t hear anyone around here call it that.”

  “Those are claws, though, right?”

  He nodded.

  “Will he pinch you?”

  Jack shrugged. “It’s possible but in all my years of catching crawdads I’ve yet to have it happen.”

  “You’ve done this a lot?”

  “Played in creeks catching minnows and crawdads? My whole life.”

  “Music festivals and catching crawdads. Sounds a little idealistic, Jack.”

  One corner of his mouth lifted. “At times.”

  Sensing there was something more behind his half-smile, she asked, “And at others?”

  He shrugged. “Nobody’s life is perfect, but I have no complaints.”

  “Our childhoods couldn’t have been more different.”

  “I take it your parents never took you to a creek to catch crawdads and minnows?”

  She shook her head. “This is my first time in a creek and you already know I had no clue what a crawdad was.”

  He held his hands out toward her. “You want to hold him?”

  “What?” She stared down at the less than two inches long mini-lobster in Jack’s cupped palms. “I’m afraid to.”

  “If he pinches, I promise to kiss you and make you feel better.”

  Heart pounding, Taylor’s gaze lifted to Jack’s and suddenly holding the crawdad didn’t seem nearly as scary as continuing to stare into his eyes. It would be so easy to fall for him. To become so head over heels that her experience with Neil would seem like child’s play. To let how wonderful Jack was sway her life views to where she just didn’t care that in the long run he’d hurt her if she wasn’t careful.

  “Don’t let him hurt me,” she ordered, then scrunched her forehead. And don’t you either. “How do we do this?”

  “Cup your hands like mine and scoop water into your hands.”

  She did as he said, then looked at him expectantly.

  “I’m going to hold my hands over where yours are cupped and put him into your hands.” His voice held the same patience she saw him exhibit in the emergency room. The same patience he seemed to exhibit in all aspects of life. “Ready?”

  She nodded. She could do this. Not that she’d ever known she wanted to hold a crawdad, but in this moment overcoming her fear seemed paramount. Did that directly relate to her fear of letting a man close enough to hurt her? To change who she was or impede the discovery of who she was?

  He put his hands directly on hers, his skin cool from having been in the water, then moved his hands apart slightly to let the water and crawfish he held drop into her hands.

  “Oh, my,” she said, nervous she held the creature, but excited she was doing so.

  “He won’t hurt you,” Jack reminded her.

  She didn’t take her eyes off the crawdad. “You’re sure?”

  “Ninety-nine percent positive.”

  Her gaze lifted. His grin was lethal.

  “That doesn’t make me feel better, Jack.”

  He laughed. “We should have brought cups to catch with. Crawdads I can do bare-handed. It’s been a while since I’ve caught a minnow that way, though.”

  “I didn’t know we were going to be doing this.”

  “Gotta be prepared for anything when you’re with me.”

  “You could have told me that before I said yes to coming with you,” she teased, then deepened her voice to intone, “Taylor, be prepared for anything, because you may end up standing in the middle of a creek holding something that looks like a baby lobster.”

  His lips twitched. “Would your answer have been different?”

  Eyes locked with his, she shook her head. “No, not as long as this thing really doesn’t decide to pinch me and not let go. That happens and you’re on your own.”

  “If he does, we’ll make him lunch.”

  “Um...no.” Taylor wrinkled her nose, then glanced down at the creature in her palms. “Do people really eat them?”

  “Many consider crawfish a delicacy.”

  “Doesn’t look like much of a meal.”

  “Yeah,” he chuckled. “One wouldn’t be.”

  “You eat them?”

  He nodded. “On more than one occasion.”

  Her gaze dropped back to the tiny creature with empathy. “Let’s let this one go.”

  “Guess it’s a good thing I brought lunch, then.”

  “You brought lunch?”

  He nodded and gestured toward his backpack. “Drinks are in the cooler in Jessica, though.”

  “You’re like a scout. Always prepared.”

  He chuckled. “Never a scout, but I’ve camped more than my share.”

  She arched a brow at him.

  “Most of my childhood was spent in campgrounds. There were a few times we lived in actual buildings, but they were far and few between.”

  “You lived in tents?”

  “Sometimes. Most of the time we had this pop-up camper we pulled behind a mini-van my mother referred to as Bertha.”

  “That’s where you get naming your Jeep?”

  He gave her an incredulous look. “Have you never named a vehicle?”

  She shook her head.

  “Guess that’s going to be another first for you, Taylor, because your car has to have a name.”

  “Yeah, well, my little sedan doesn’t have Jessica’s character. She’d be rather dull, I think.”

  “Your car is a female, then?”

  She thought about it a minute, then nodded. “Definitely.”

  * * *

  “Look, that one’s a rabbit munching on a carrot.” Taylor pointed to a group of puffy white clouds that contrasted starkly with the intense blue of the sky.

  “I see the rabbit, but are you sure that’s a carrot?”

  She turned to look at Jack. “What else would it be?”

  “A cigar. See the tiny puff of smoke coming off the end?”

  “Okay, I’ll give you that one.” The clouds did look more like a rabbit smoking a cigar than one eating a carrot. “But, for the record, my rabbit was healthier than yours.”

  “You won’t get any arguments from me on that one.”

  Something in his voice struck her and she turned her head to look at him in question.

  Without looking her way, he admitted, “Both my parents smoked, which is why I lost my dad at too early an age.”

  “I’m sorry, Jack. What happened?”

  “Heart attack in his late forties.”

  “You were young when it happened, then?”

  “Fairly young,” he agreed, but didn’t elaborate.

  “What about your mother? Is she still alive and smoking?”

  “Mom quit smoking after Dad died. She decided she needed to live a healthier lifestyle. She traveled for a while but settled down. She runs a holistic hippie compound about an hour from here for anyone looking to find themselves. They grow their own food, make their own makeshift houses and live a mostly organic if isolated life.”

  Listening to him talk about his life made Taylor feel as if she were that rabbit in the sky, one that had fallen into another realm. “Really?”

  “You think I can make this stuff up?”

  “I can’t imagine.”

  “I can take you there sometime.”

  She’d meant his childhood, but his offer caught her interest. “To meet your mother?”

  “To see the compound,” he clarified.

  Taylor’s face heated. She shouldn’t have assumed he’d meant anything. “Oh, right. Sorry.”

  “You’d meet my mom, too, Taylor. She lives there.”

  “She probably wouldn’t like me.” The words slipped out of her mouth, revealing way more than
what she should have.

  “Why’s that?”

  “Sounds like she’s very much a free spirit. That’s not who I am. She’d find me plain and boring.”

  He rolled over onto his side to look at her. “She’d feel you were a kindred soul just waiting to break free from the confines of society and embrace your inner self.”

  His assumption pleased Taylor more than it should.

  “That sounded rehearsed,” she accused playfully, giving him a suspicious brow raise.

  “You think?” He laughed. “I may have heard her say that a few times.”

  “About women you’ve taken to the compound?”

  His gaze met hers and he shook his head. “I’ve never taken a woman to the compound.”

  “Oh.” She stared into his eyes, marveling at how they perfectly matched the sky. “But you’d take me?”

  He nodded.

  She marveled at his answer, too. “Why?”

  “Because you wanted to go. And for the record, you, Taylor, are the least plain and boring person I know.”

  * * *

  Although Jack was enjoying lying on the blanket with Taylor, he was ready for a subject change.

  “What about your parents? Are they alive? Do they live in Louisville?”

  “They are alive. I used to see them a few times a year, but not since my divorce.”

  The pain in her voice gave any explanation needed. Her parents hadn’t approved of her divorce. Had they cut her out of their lives? Or had she had to walk away from them along with her ex?

  “I’m sorry.”

  Her voice breaking, she explained, “They thought I should stay with Neil. In their eyes, I should have appreciated how lucky I was to be married to a successful doctor no matter what he did.”

  “If you felt the need to leave, your parents should have helped you pack.” And her dad should have kicked the guy’s tail. Jack reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. “What did he do?”

  Taking a very deep breath, she shrugged. “He was himself. I just didn’t see the real him until it was too late and I’d married him.” She exhaled sharply. “I was a possession, meant to do as he said when he said, and should have been okay with his infidelity, among other things.”

  Jack winced. “He cheated on you?”

  “Several times that I know of and who knows how many I never learned of?”

  “He was an idiot.”

  Taylor laughed, but there was no pleasure in the sound. “Actually, he’s a brilliant plastic surgeon and apparently does amazing work.”

  Something in her tone told its own tale. “He never operated on you?”

  She glanced down at her moderate-sized chest. “Do these appear enhanced to you?”

  Jack glanced at her breasts and fought gulping. “I found—find—your breasts just right.”

  Taylor snorted. “Well, he didn’t and wanted to lift and enlarge them. He also offered to pad my bottom and freeze the fat in my thighs and make my nose smaller and my lips fuller and make my chin not so boxy and—”

  Jack’s finger went over her lips, stopping her words. “You’re perfect the way you are, Taylor. He was the one who had problems. Not you. I’m glad you never let him take a knife to you.”

  Taylor sighed. “Sorry, I got on a rant, didn’t I?”

  “You deserve to rant. If a woman is unhappy with her body and wants to make changes, that’s her choice and more power to her. So long as she is making the change for herself. But a man pushing a woman to change?” He shook his head. “A man should never make a woman feel she needs to make those changes because she’s not good enough.” He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss there. “You are good enough, Taylor. Way better than he ever deserved.”

  Better than Jack deserved, too.

  “Sometimes I wonder if you’re for real,” she mused, eyeing him as if she thought he might disappear any moment.

  Not sure what she meant, he waited for her to elaborate.

  “You seem to know what to say to make me feel better about myself, to be justified in my outrage.” She shrugged. “You make me feel better inside, Jack. Thank you for that.”

  Her compliment made him feel better inside, too. She made him feel better.

  “You’re welcome.” He wasn’t sure what else to say. He knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to hold her, kiss her, make love to her right here on a blanket in the middle of nowhere with a babbling little waterfall in the background.

  But he’d told her she had the power, that he wouldn’t push or do anything until she gave the word it was what she wanted. He wouldn’t force himself on Taylor in any way.

  So he settled for holding her hand and consoled himself that lying on this blanket, holding her hand in his, was more precious than all the kisses in the world from anyone else.

  Which slapped him in the face yet again with the reality of how she affected him.

  Taylor had been suppressed her whole life and had never been given the opportunity to just be. Whereas he’d grown up with no boundaries, with parents who’d encouraged him to step outside society lines, she’d been stuffed inside the box of others’ expectations and forced to stay within those tight confines.

  That she had so newly torn free of that box made her vulnerable, made making sure he did nothing to cause her to stumble and possible fall back into those confines all the more important.

  For the next month he intended to help her rip down as many of those walls as possible. To show her the world from his perspective.

  After his time was up in Warrenville, well, he hoped when she thought of him, she would smile and feel he’d made her world a little brighter place.

  * * *

  Taylor fiddled with her keys outside Amy’s apartment door. “Thank you for today.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She’d had an amazing day. The best. Playing in water, cloud watching, a picnic, and then he’d taken her to a Japanese hibachi grill for a late sushi dinner, something else she’d never tried. The day had been filled with laughter, adventure, and light-heartedness.

  “Will I see you tomorrow?” she asked.

  “Do you want to see me tomorrow?”

  He had to know she did. How could she not when their day had been so carefree? Making her feel as if she’d traveled back in time to play with him as part of his childhood?

  What she was feeling for him was very grown up.

  Very adult.

  “Then you’ll see me.” He winked, much as he had on the nights he’d gone back to his tent, then left.

  * * *

  An hour later, as Taylor lay in bed, she stared at her ceiling in the darkness of her room, restless, mind racing, heart full.

  Sleep wouldn’t come.

  No matter how long she lay there, she knew it was useless to keep trying.

  Because she burned inside.

  Burned that she’d not invited Jack inside the apartment. Burned with regret that she’d not invited Jack into her bed.

  She wanted him.

  Maybe she’d always want him.

  He was that kind of man. Strong and virile, yet gentle and patient in a way that made her feel feminine and safe.

  Safe.

  Sweet, free-spirited Jack.

  Inhaling sharply, she fluffed her pillow and rolled over. Calling him safe seemed hypocritical because it was the danger posed by him that had held her back when she’d first moved to Warrenville. That and not wanting him to feel obligated to continue being interested in her. More than anything, she realized she’d been afraid to risk falling in love with Jack.

  Jack. Jack. Jack.

  She couldn’t let herself love him, but she couldn’t help but want him.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “DID I WAKE YOU?” Jack asked, glancing at his fitness watch to make sure
it wasn’t earlier than he’d thought.

  “Hmm, maybe,” came Taylor’s response. Sleep had her voice low and raspy over the phone line. Had him envisioning what she must look like and how he’d rather have wakened her.

  “I’d ask if you had a late night, but I know what time I dropped you off,” he mused.

  “Needed my...” she yawned “...beauty sleep.”

  “Is that how you always look so amazing? Sleep?”

  “Listen to you, Mr. Flatterer.”

  She was starting to sound more awake. An image of her stretching her body flashed into his head and he knew it’s what she was currently doing. Arching her back and stretching her arms high above her head.

  “It’s after ten. I was going to invite you to lunch, but maybe I should call it brunch?”

  “Brunch sounds good.”

  He could hear movement in the background, so she must have gotten out of bed.

  “Ouch!” She let loose with a string of expletives that were so mild Jack fought not to laugh.

  “We are going to have to enroll you in Cursing for Beginners because that was weak, lady.”

  “Yeah, well, I wouldn’t be a lady if it was too brash, now, would I?” she shot back, eliciting another laugh from him.

  “What happened?”

  “I stubbed my toe against the coffee-table leg.”

  The coffee table?

  “You were asleep on the sofa?”

  “Mmm-hmm. I was too tired to make it to my bed.”

  “Our hike exhausted you that much yesterday evening?”

  “Our hike was wonderful.” She yawned again. “Let me shower, then I’ll meet you somewhere for that brunch you mentioned. I’m starved.”

  “Okay if I just pick you up and we’ll go together?”

  She hesitated a moment, then, “Sure. Give me thirty minutes.”

  Thirty minutes. He could do that.

  “Wear a bathing suit under your clothes.”

  “Huh?”

  He could picture her baffled look.

  “No questions. Just go with it.”

  “We going back to the creek?”

  They’d had fun in the creek, but had never gotten into water any deeper than knee-high. He had something different in mind.