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Like tonight.
He shouldn’t have accepted Amy’s invite. So why hadn’t he said no?
Because he’d wanted to see Taylor.
It was for the same reason he said, “I’d love to if Taylor’s not busy and wants to go.”
* * *
“You did this, didn’t you?”
Taylor watched as Jack ran his finger along the fluid lines of the sculpture. Although she loved the piece she’d given to Amy, causing her friend to gush on and on about how good it was, Taylor still felt insecure about her art.
“You don’t have to answer,” Jack assured her, still eyeing the piece. “I know you did. She’s beautiful.”
Her breath caught. “She?”
“It’s a woman,” he explained needlessly. “A woman dancing on the water.”
Taylor doubted most people could look at the foot and a half piece and immediately see the sum of the lines and curves.
Stunned by his insight, she admitted, “I’m impressed you see that.”
Glancing her way, he added, “It’s you.”
Her throat threatened to close. Jack saw too much. “I made the piece, yes.”
His expression softened. “Not what I asked.”
He knew. He looked at the piece and he knew, had seen the truth. Why did that make her feel both vulnerable and ecstatic?
Staring into his eyes, she confessed, “Some days I think she’s me. Others, she’s who I want to be, free and not afraid of anything, not even walking on water.” With a half-smile on her face, she shrugged. “My reality is most likely somewhere between drowning and treading water.”
As if he understood what she meant, he nodded again. “I’d like to see more of your work.”
“Why?”
He gave her an odd look. “Because you’re good and I’m interested in seeing what you’ve created.”
“I’ve only done a few pieces.” That she’d show anyone, at any rate. She hoped to get started again soon. Finding a local art studio where she could work was still on her list of things to do. “For the record, I don’t think of it as creating something, more an unleashing of what’s locked away inside the clay.”
Jack studied her, making her feel exposed, like he could see deep inside her to her thoughts. Then again, hadn’t she thought the same when they’d been at Rockin’ Tyme? The man saw past her shell to what she had hidden inside.
“You’re very talented,” he finally said, and sounded sincere.
“See, Tay,” Amy announced, coming back into the room from taking a bathroom break. “I’m not the only one who thinks you’re amazing.”
Eyes locked with Taylor’s, Jack grinned. “Definitely not the only one. She is very talented.”
Taylor’s cheeks heated. Why did she get the impression he wasn’t talking about art anymore?
Why did that excite her?
Because Neil had made her think she was abnormal and dull? Because, for all her therapy and growth, a part of her had believed him until she’d met the man running his finger lovingly over her sculpture?
She wasn’t abnormal or dull. She was passionate and creative and still unpeeling so many buried layers of who she was, of who she wanted to be.
Just like with the clay, she was unleashing the real Taylor.
