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“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?”
