Janice Lynn - A Nurse To Tame The Er Doc

His grin was so infectious Taylor’s breath caught.

Apparently, it didn’t matter that Jack was a doctor and she’d sworn the profession and men off forever.

Now that her body had remembered it was young, healthy, full of hormones, it refused to be ignored.

Not only refused to be ignored but demanded attention. Jack’s attention.

Why not? an inner voice asked. It wasn’t as if anything that happened this week would go beyond the music festival.

Maybe she could—should—forget an outside world existed and just go with the flow. Wasn’t that what she was trying to do? Step outside her comfort zone?

Jack Morgan was way outside her comfort zone and would be one humdinger of a life experience.

BATHING HAD NEVER felt so good.

Taylor had had to wait in line over half an hour to get into the shower, but the wait had been worth it. To have washed the dust from her hair and put on clean clothes felt amazing.

When she went back to the medical camping ground, Jack, Duffy, Robert and a few others were playing guitars in front of Jack’s tent. Duffy was singing a country song about wild women and drinking too much.

Taylor grabbed her chair and joined the group. Listening to their song, she brushed out her hair, then braided it into a French braid, twisting a band around the end. When she’d finished, her gaze collided with Jack’s.

He’d been watching her. With more than casual interest.

Then again, there was nothing casual about the sparks that had flown between them all day.

He winked and, heart kerthunking, she winked back.

Something she’d never done. Her ex hadn’t been the kind of man one winked at. Neil hadn’t been playful or fun. Ever.

Jack was playful and fun.

At some point he’d gotten a shower, too. He looked refreshed in his navy shorts and T-shirt while he plucked the strings of a rather beat-up, well-loved-appearing guitar, keeping perfect tune with the others.

Having no musical talent, Taylor was impressed.

She was even more impressed when Duffy’s song ended and they started playing another. This time Jack did the vocals. His voice was a raspy baritone that reached inside and tugged at her very being.

The man had a beautiful, unique timbre.

A beautiful, unique everything.

She wanted to close her eyes and just listen to his voice, but her eyes refused to be denied the privilege of feasting on the image of him strumming along on his guitar while he sang.

When the song ended, Taylor clapped and gave a self-conscious whistle. Another first. This stepping outside one’s comfort zone thing wasn’t so bad.

Actually, it was kind of fun.

“I think you have a groupie,” Duffy teased.

“Never had a groupie before,” Jack mused, his smile aimed at Taylor. “But we are at a music festival, so I’m game.”

“Can’t say I’ve ever been a groupie,” Taylor admitted, knowing her cheeks were pink but that a silly smile was on her face. “Maybe I’ll settle for being an avid fan, rather than a full-fledged groupie.”

“Far less fun. Stick with the groupie,” Robert suggested, gathering a few laughs.

“Avid fan is more my speed,” Taylor admitted, feeling a little self-conscious that all the men’s attention was now on her rather than their music. “Don’t stop playing on my account. I was enjoying listening.”

“You play?” Duffy asked, offering her his guitar.

She shook her head. Maybe she’d add guitar lessons to the growing list of things she’d tried since her divorce. So far she’d taken art classes, cooking classes, exercise classes, and was taking a foreign language course online. Not necessarily to expand her horizons but to figure out things she liked and enjoyed rather than be an extension of her parents, then Neil.

“You sing?” Robert asked.

She gave him a dubious look. “Not if I want to keep any of you as friends.”

A few chuckles sounded.

“We’re not a picky crowd, so feel free to join in at any time. The more the merrier.”

Duffy launched into another song, but Taylor didn’t know the words so joining in wasn’t an option even if she’d wanted to give it a try.

After a few more songs Robert stood, stretched, and announced he had plans to meet a cute little nurse who was working in the main medical tent. The others left one by one, leaving Taylor and Jack.

“Do you really not play or sing or you just didn’t want to show up us guys?”

“Ha,” Taylor snorted. “Believe me when I say I did you a favor by keeping my mouth shut.”

Jack’s gaze dropped to her lips. “A shame. I’m positive I’d enjoy hearing you sing.”

“You only say that because you’ve not heard me do so,” she assured him, thinking she’d never be comfortable enough to sing in public.

“You don’t sing, you don’t play music, and this is your first music festival.” His gaze searched hers. “What do you do in your free time, Taylor?”

Good question. One that two years ago she’d have answered with do everything she could to keep her husband happy, spend all her time trying to somehow be good enough so that perhaps their failing marriage would morph into what she’d once dreamed it would be. A year ago she’d have answered with cry and try not to dwell on the mess she’d made by not really knowing the man she’d married in a whirlwind while thinking she was the luckiest girl alive that a handsome plastic surgeon wanted to marry a plain Jane like her.

Thank goodness she’d never given in to his wanting her to not work but stay home. As his wife, she’d gone part time, but had kept working. The ICU, her patients had been her solace. Other than her work, she’d had no life, no being Taylor, just Mrs. Dr. Neil Norris.

“I run.” One of the habits she’d picked up immediately following her divorce.

“Competitively?”

She snickered. “Hardly. I run for me, to relieve stress, for exercise, to clear my head.”

She’d started on a whim of wanting to be healthy but running had quickly become her therapy. She spent the time working through the past, how it had molded her, how she was determined to break those molds and forge herself into a person she liked. Neither her indifferent parents nor Neil got the final say on who she was.

“So you work, sleep and run.” Jack frowned. “Not a very exciting life you’re describing, Taylor. Surely there’s more?”

“I never claimed I led an exciting life.” She crossed her arms as she stared back.

“What else, Taylor?” he pushed.

Glancing down at the green grass beneath her tennis shoes, she shrugged. “I have all the usual hobbies people have.” She did. Now. “I sculpt.”

She’d signed up for the sculpting class after seeing an ad she’d come across on social media but had loved it from the first moment she’d felt the clay between her fingers.

Jack’s brow lifted. “As in statues of naked men?”

Taylor rolled her eyes. “That’s such a guy question.”

His lips twitched. “But is it true?”

“A couple of times,” she admitted, her face warm and getting warmer at how his eyes twinkled.

“In the name of art, right?” he teased.

Smiling, Taylor didn’t bother to explain she’d been oblivious to the men who’d posed during her art class. She could barely recall what they’d looked like. What she’d enjoyed had been the feel of the clay beneath her fingers as she’d taken nothing and transformed it into something.

Much as she’d done with her life.

Nothing to something.

“I’d like to see some of your work.”

Unless he saw the piece she’d brought to give to Amy, it was unlikely. Until recently, she hadn’t wanted anyone to see her work as too much of her was caught up in it.