by Janice Lynn
“You know as well as I do that a person has to want to get help, Jack. You can’t make someone overcome an addiction.”
“Logically, I know that. But my seventeen-year-old heart has never believed it.”
“I know you, Jack. If you could have helped her, you would have.”
“It’s where I met Duffy, you know.”
She hadn’t but waited for him to continue.
“I figured she’d just partied too hard and would sleep it off. But something inside me told me more was going on. I picked her up and carried her to the medical tent, praying she had just passed out and wasn’t in any real danger, that she wouldn’t kill me for telling the medics she’d possibly overdosed and wasn’t picky about how she got her high. She crashed within a minute of me getting her to the medical tent. They tried to save her. Duffy and another man, a doctor, but she...was gone.”
Taylor’s heart hurt. She reached across the space between their chairs and took his hand. “Oh, Jack.”
He sucked in a breath. “It was the first I’d met him, but Duffy spent a lot of time with me that night. I think he thought I was going to hurt myself and was afraid no one else would keep a constant eye on me. He never let me out of his sight. Not even when I went to the john.”
He gave a humorless snort.
“I don’t think I would have done anything, but I wasn’t in my head that night. I was coming down off my own high and the light that lit my world had just gone out.”
He swallowed hard.
“I didn’t know who her family was, just her name. Duffy helped track them down, but no one came for her body. No one seemed to care that she was gone. Maybe that’s why she’d left to begin with.” He sighed. “Somehow, Duffy arranged for her to be cremated or maybe it was the State of California who did that. I don’t know, just that Duffy was there and helped get her ashes for me. He saved me.”
Fighting tears, Taylor squeezed his hand. “I’m glad he was there.”
“Me, too.” Jack swiped at his eyes, swallowed hard, then exhaled. “I’m not sure what would have happened to me had he not been working that night and taken a kid under his wing.”
“You’d have found your way.”
“Maybe, but I could have just as easily have slipped off that slippery slope that had claimed Courtney. Like I said, I was using myself.”
“Instead,” she reminded him, “you became a doctor.”
“Because I became a doctor,” he clarified. “I watched Duffy and that doctor work on Courtney, trying to save her life, and I knew that’s what I had to do. I wanted to save lives, to make a difference to someone someday, the way they’d tried to make a difference for her and did make a difference for me.”
Taylor’s heart swelled at what Jack had gone through, at how something so devastating had not pulled him down but had lifted him up to become the man before her.
“You’re a good person, Jack.”
He snorted. “I’ve done some things that weren’t so good during my life.”
“Most people have.”
* * *
Jack wondered if Taylor ever had. She was a good, decent person. He couldn’t imagine her ever having done anything truly bad.
“I’m glad you stayed in touch with Duffy.”
“Stayed in touch?” Jack scoffed. “He wouldn’t leave me alone. He made me his pet project or the son he never had or whatever he likes to call it. Regardless, he has been there at every major life event since. University graduation, and then med school. And—” she’d think him crazy “—a few years ago he went with me to scatter Courtney’s ashes.”
He could tell by her face that she wondered what he’d done with them. It had taken him years to let them go, years to figure out where.
“We flew to Hawaii, hired a guide, went to the top of a volcano, and tossed her in.”
Taylor’s eyes widened. “What?”
It probably did seem crazy, but he had no regrets. Not for that.
“For years I tried to figure out where she’d want to be scattered. Almost threw her over a ledge into the Grand Canyon once, but it didn’t feel right.” He shrugged, then half smiled. “Being thrown into a volcano, that she would not only have approved of but she’d have loved it.”
At Taylor’s look of uncertainty, he took a deep breath then tried to explain.
“When a volcano blows, bits of ash are scattered through the atmosphere, even thousands of miles away. She’d be everywhere.” A peace came over him. “Free, floating above the earth, seeing everything and slowly drifting down to become a part of everything.” His voice lowered as he said, “She’d be everywhere. The volcano blew a year or so ago. She is everywhere.”
When she spoke, Taylor would probably demand he take her home. He wouldn’t blame her. No way could she have anticipated his elaborate answer when she’d asked who Courtney was.
He didn’t talk about Courtney.
Never with anyone other than Duffy on the rare occasion. That he so freely spilled out the horrid details to Taylor shook him. Why had he? He could have stopped with his girlfriend from when he’d been seventeen and left it at that. Taylor probably thought him crazy.
He was.
But she hadn’t pulled away or demanded he drive her home. Not yet. Instead, Taylor’s hand was warm, held his tight. But neither of them spoke for the longest time. He’d already said too much.
“That’s a very beautiful tribute, Jack,” she finally said. “She must have been a very special person for you to have loved her so much.”
“I’ve never known anyone like her.”
“I’m sorry you lost her.”
“Me, too.” Although, he wondered whether, if Courtney had lived, they’d have lasted or if he’d have tired of her abusing her body with drugs and whatever it took to get them. As much as he’d loved her, the man he was today wouldn’t have stayed to watch such self-destructive behavior.
He was all about being a free spirit, but believed life was about a higher purpose, serving others. He liked to think that even had he never met Duffy he’d have found his calling, his purpose.
Knowing Taylor had to be tired of their depressing conversation, he stood from the rocker. “Let’s go for a walk.”
“In the dark?”
“You afraid?” he challenged, reaching his hand out to pull her up from her chair.
“Should I be?”
“I promised you I’d never let anything hurt you,” he reminded her, and meant it. With everything in him he’d do his best to keep Taylor from being hurt.
Taking his hand, she stood from her chair, laced her fingers with his, and said, “Let’s walk.”
* * *
Taylor had lingered out in the cow pasture for as long as she could.
Jack would take her home when they got back to the house.
She didn’t want to go back to the apartment.
She wanted to stay here, with Jack. Crazy, but she didn’t want to leave him. At the moment she didn’t even want to strip him naked and have her way with him—although that was just beneath the surface.
What she wanted was to hold him.
Because Jack needed to be held. When they got back to the house he turned to her. “Is your bag from when you showered still in the house?”
She nodded.
“You want me to get it and us head toward your place?”
No, that wasn’t what she wanted.
“I can get it.” She could. “But if you want to grab it for me, that would be great. I left it in the living room.”
“Be back in just a few.”
Taylor watched him go inside, then took off after him, berating herself with each step. She was making a habit of following this man in hopes of ending up in his bed.
Only this time sex wasn’t her sole motivating factor.
; * * *
Hearing Taylor enter the house behind him, Jack turned toward her. He’d just spotted her bag on the living room sofa and was about to pick it up.
“I’m not leaving.” She stared him straight in the eyes.
He arched his brow. “You’re not?”
She shook her head. “I’m staying with you tonight. Here.” Her chin lifted as if she thought he might defy her. “I want to sleep next to you and hold you and wake up with you.”
Jack swallowed to moisten his dry throat. “Is that all?”
“For the moment.”
Jack wasn’t sure he was a strong enough man to sleep next to Taylor with her holding him and that was all. He felt as if he’d wanted her forever. As if it had been forever since he’d touched her, kissed her, shared his air mattress with her for a few magical hours.
“Okay.”
His agreeing with her seemed to knock some of the wind out of her sails, because uncertainty flashed into her eyes. Whatever, she quickly masked it and smiled.
“Good answer.”
“It wasn’t as if I was going to refuse you saying you want to spend the night in my bed.”
“Perfect.” She smiled, then gave him a little come hither look. “I’m going to get ready for bed.”
Jack glanced at his fitness band. “It is getting late, isn’t it?”
Taylor yawned and he laughed.
She didn’t have a clue how beautiful she was.
“You have a twinkle in your eyes, Taylor Hall.”
Her lips twitched. “A twinkle?”
“Like the prettiest star in the night sky.”
Eyes sparkling, she gave him a dubious look. “That’s a big claim because you and I just saw some amazing stars.”
“Not nearly as amazing as looking into your eyes.”
She laughed, and it was a sound of pure merriment. “On that full-of-it note, get me a big, comfy T-shirt to sleep in, please.”
Taylor followed him into his room. Opening a chest of drawers, he pulled out the top T-shirt, not surprised when it was a music festival one. He kept his wardrobe simple. “This work?”
Taking it, she ran her fingers over the soft cotton material. “I think so. Thanks. Okay if I use the bathroom first and borrow your toothbrush?”
He nodded. He’d just jump in the shower across the hallway while she got ready for bed. He probably smelled like a cross between grill smoke, river water, and cow pasture. Not the scent he wanted to wear to bed with Taylor.
* * *
Taylor had meant to hurry in the bath, but she’d heard the hot water heater kick on and knew Jack was showering somewhere in the house.
Staring into his bathroom mirror, she studied her reflection. What was she doing?
Staying with Jack.
Because Jack made her happy, was a good person, and she wanted to comfort him, to soothe away his sorrows, and give him happiness.
What makes you think you can make him happy? a nagging voice mocked.
She glared at her image, as if the voice had come directly from her reflection.
“Just watch me and find out,” she whispered, then stripped out of her clothes, all her clothes, and stood naked in Jack’s bathroom.
She took a cloth and washed herself, then helped herself to some unscented body lotion. She brushed her teeth and slipped on his T-shirt. It fell to just beneath her hips, covering her bottom, but just barely.
Perfect.
Reaching up, she touched a braid. If she left them in, her hair wouldn’t be nearly so everywhere in the morning.
But she wanted her hair loose, not confined, and began the painstaking task of undoing her braids.
When she’d finished, she fingered-combed out her wavy hair. Wild. Crazy. Free.
Perfect.
Because tonight she was going to be wild, crazy, and free.
With Jack.
“You okay in there?”
Cheeks flushing at her thoughts and that she’d taken so long he’d felt the need to check on her, she called, “Fine.”
Opening the bathroom door, she almost bumped into him as he stood just on the other side.
“Oh!”
He caught her shoulders, steadying her.
In her bare feet, he seemed so much taller and she looked up at him, smiled. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” He brushed his palms down her arms. “Since you were woken up so bright and early, I suppose you want to hit the sack immediately.”
She glanced behind him at the big wooden bed with its antique-appearing quilt on top. “Hope that’s okay.”
“Anything you want.” But he didn’t move toward the bed, or at all.
“Kiss me,” she ordered, staring up at him to watch the emotions play across his handsome face.
“Taylor—” he began.
“Kiss me, Jack. You said anything I want. I want you to kiss me.”
* * *
Heaven help him, Jack thought. Or just heaven. Because pressing his lips to Taylor’s, tasting her sweetness, was heaven.
“What else do you want?” he asked, lifting his mouth millimeters from hers.
She placed her hands on each side of his face. “You, Jack. I want you. I want you to kiss me, to touch me, to hold me and caress me and make love to me in that big old bed over there, and then I want to sleep in your arms. Is that okay?”
He shook his head, causing concern to fill her pretty brown eyes.
“It would be a travesty to label all that as just okay, Taylor. Okay means mediocre. Nothing about you in my bed would be mediocre.”
Her lips curved into a smile, then she stood on tiptoe and kissed him.
Jack could no longer keep his hands still. He traced them over her arms, down her spine, her waist, cupped her bottom.
That’s when he realized.
Pulling back, he stared into her eyes. “You’re not wearing underwear.”
She gave him a devilishly seductive look. “Is that a problem?”
Slowly, he shook his head, then slipped his hands beneath the T-shirt hem to palm her bare bottom. Yeah, it would be easy to just strip off his clothes and push her down on the bed and take her as quickly as she’d let him inside. But that urgency was what had happened last time. This time he wanted to see her, touch her, taste her—all of her.
That’s what he set about doing.
* * *
Jack’s mouth was driving Taylor insane. Absolutely mental.
She dug her fingers into his long hair, loving the luscious slightly damp locks between her fingers, around her hands. She arched against him. “Jack.”
“Hmm?” He glanced up at her.
“Just Jack.”
Her entire body hummed for him, every cell trying to draw nearer, to be the part touching him, being touched by him.
Over and over he brought her to the brink, letting her climax, float partially down, then lifting her back up, higher and higher each time.
Digging her heels into the bed, she tugged on his shoulders. “Now, Jack. Now,” she demanded. “I need you now.”
Within seconds he was above her, donning a condom, then inside her, stretching her in the sweetest way.
With the first movement of his body her insides trembled, then went full-blown earthquake.
She clung to him, hanging on because she was sure she was falling from some other world as he continued to move, continued to take her places she’d only dreamed of.
Momentum built, and she felt his waning willpower to hold back. Needing to feel his loss of control, to feel him give in to the magic between their bodies, she met him stroke for stroke, deeper and deeper.
“Jack!” she cried, realizing she was going to be the one to go tumbling over into orgasmic release yet again.
She reached the pin
nacle, the highest place she’d ever been, and plummeted over to the other side, her entire body imploding into a colorful meltdown.
Which undid Jack and he followed suit, driving deep into her body before collapsing onto her.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
TAYLOR DIDN’T RECALL a month having ever gone by so quickly. Not ever.
The past one had flown and, with it, Jack’s days in Warrenville.
Eight days. Then he’d be gone.
“You’ve still not talked to him, have you?”
Sitting in their living room, Taylor glanced over at Amy, started to pretend she didn’t know what her roommate meant, but decided against it. Why bother? Amy knew what was in her heart.
She shook her head.
“You need to tell him you don’t want him to go,” Amy advised, moving to the sofa to sit next to Taylor. “Tonight, before any more time gets away, before he gets away.”
It wasn’t that Taylor didn’t want to tell Jack that she didn’t want him to leave. She didn’t want him to leave and wanted to tell him.
But she couldn’t ask him to stay.
Every time she thought about doing so memories of how he’d described living at his grandparents’ echoed through her head. Jack was a free spirit, not meant to be confined to one place. So, instead of defending why she hadn’t, and wouldn’t, ask Jack to stay, she went on the offensive.
“How about you? Have you talked to Greg about how this long-distance thing is wearing thin? Have you asked him about opening a practice in Warrenville?”
“I know what you’re doing, and it isn’t going to work,” Amy warned.
“Neither would asking Jack to stay.”
“You don’t know that.”
Amy was right. She didn’t know that. She saw how he looked at her, felt how he touched her. He might say yes. But asking Jack to stay would be like asking a bird to give up flying to live in a cage.