Rescued (A McKenzie Ridge Novel Book 1) Read Free

life as the only life, but sparks flew and the heat undeniable, obvious to everyone but Taylor and Tayler. Associates through work for years now, they both struggled to ignore the curiosity that surrounded one another, always trying to maintain those unfortunate professional boundaries that were bound to fail eventually, if just one of them would remove the invisible stick up their stubborn ass. They bantered, playing off their similar last names, flirted shamelessly at work and outside of work when everyone ended a shift, at The Pump House to decompress, before calling it a night.
    It never went any further, even though both thought about it…often. No, neither would take the next step, neither one did the dating thing, and most definitely didn’t do relationships. The thought of either was like a quick cold shower, no thank you. They were content with where things stood, completely safe, unattached, and single.
    Taylor and Tayler, as silly a joke as it was, was their connection. Confusion over who was being summoned in the ER, or at The Pump House after a shift, generated as many laughs as it did opportunities to acknowledge each other. Dawson and Sam may have been able to avoid the obvious, but everyone around them saw it for what it was—they liked each other…a lot.
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    Dawson Tayler is a humble and modest man. Quiet even. As a child, he had a deep desire to help, starting with stray or injured animals, but ultimately being called to save his fellow man. His kindness and warm soul made him an outcast amongst his family. From a deep-rooted, ruthless, business savvy family, he was living an average life his family would be appalled by…if they were alive. Although his heart was hardened and his soul numb, his instinct to help people remained.
    A gentleman through and through, as his mama raised him to be, Dawson stood at over six feet tall, with sun kissed skin, a chiseled body of rolling muscles. He had raven black hair, day old facial scruff, and the greenest, emerald eyes that made hearts break and panties melt. He was a bit of a man-whore when the opportunity presented itself, and present it was. Often. Dawson Tayler, a no strings, man’s man, had a stockpile of numbers to call at midnight, but not a soul to give him anything else. He liked it that way.
    Regardless of his declaration of eternal bachelorhood, his satisfying life, emotionless as it was, began to change because of her. Dawson found Sam a mystery. He was drawn to her, wanted to figure her out, with or without clothes. It didn’t help that she was hot . After many months of brazen flirting, he still knew very little about her. He wanted to solve the mystery, who was the real Sam Taylor and why was she so damn captivating? He wanted to ask her out. Not on a date, just ask her out because he didn’t date.
    The storming ball of fire, that is five feet and a handful of inches, Sam Taylor defines the word fighter. Her long dark locks, slate blue eyes hooded with long thick lashes, and full rosy lips harassed Dawson every night in his sleep. Her compact size was athletic in nature, complimented by perfect curves, in all of the right places. Curves he wouldn’t mind exploring. She was so sexy, it should have been a sin, and he was a willing sinner.
    Sam found herself, living the life she always dreamed…sort of. With a flakey mother, divorced who knows how many times, Sam’s childhood was as unremarkable as her name. Sam, not Samantha, not even Sammy, just Sam, good enough for the woman she referred to loosely as mother .
    Her life was destined to be full of trials. Sam was practically raised by her best friend Everly’s grandmother, Granny Lou. Although not ideal, Sam didn’t regret one bit of her childhood. She always had big dreams to be a nurse, and so she was. She was a no nonsense girl in life and in the ER, doling out her fair share of snarkiness and rejection to doting men, wanting to explore the hard ass that was Sam.
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    “Hey Taylor,