Cross My Heart: A Contemporary Romance Novel Page 4

  All of which made him perfect friend-and-neighbor material. Michael was a great guy with a terrific daughter. He was smart and thoughtful and interesting, someone whose company she could enjoy for the short time she was living here.

  But she definitely shouldn’t think about anything more. She was leaving town in a month and a half. As soon as the summer ended, she was out of here.

  So it would be crazy to get tangled up in something that could get…complicated. And something in Michael’s serious brown eyes told her that a relationship with him could get very complicated. She already liked him, and she’d known him less than a day.

  And she was really, really attracted to him. She wanted to move closer. She wanted to feel that long, hard-muscled body against hers.

  She wanted to kiss him.

  She should probably pull her hand away. But his touch felt good—really good—and he wasn’t making any kind of pass at her.

  So Jenna didn’t move a muscle. She sat still, and felt Michael’s warm fingers tighten around hers, and let desire bloom in her body, slow and lazy and intoxicating.

  It was a few minutes before Michael could trust himself to speak. He was overwhelmed by a feeling so powerful it seemed almost animalistic.

  He wanted Jenna Landry. He wanted to lay her down on the grass and cover her body with his. He imagined doing that, imagined her looking up at him with those soft lips parted as his weight pinned her to the ground, her blue eyes filled with the same desire he was feeling.

  His left hand, the one not holding hers, tightened into a fist. He was hard, his whole body aching, and wanted her so much he was sure she could see it, feel it, even smell it somehow.

  He’d been in love with Angela, in the beginning at least, but even with her he’d never felt like this.

  But long years of emotional discipline won out. When he knew he was under control again, he spoke, asking a question he’d wanted to ask earlier.

  “How did you know that was Claire’s favorite song?” he asked. “Before dinner, when you signed that CD for her.”

  “Because she’s a teenager,” Jenna said. As soon as he heard her voice he was glad he hadn’t dragged her close and kissed her, because she sounded completely unaffected by the lust he was drowning in.

  “Alive was the first song I ever wrote,” she was saying now. “I was seventeen and it just poured out of me. Whenever I meet a teenager who likes the Red Mollies, that’s always their favorite song. It’s a teen thing, I guess.”

  “The words were beautiful,” he said, remembering. “But I don’t think I understood them.”

  “They’re not meant to be understood. They’re meant to be felt. I think that’s why teenagers love music so much, you know? It’s all about raw emotion. All the things they don’t have words for yet.”

  “I always had words for it.”

  She smiled a little. In the moonlight, her eyes were as dark as her hair. “All that science stuff, you mean?”

  “Yeah, all that science stuff.”

  “You said it was like an antidote, when you were Claire’s age. An antidote for what?”

  He thought about brushing the question off, but something about the quiet intimacy of the night, the intimacy of holding Jenna’s hand, made him answer honestly. “I didn’t exactly have a stable childhood. My mother drank a lot, and my dad was a professional gambler. It made for a pretty chaotic household. Science was a refuge from that. A part of my life that always made sense. Where there was order and logic and meaning.”

  Jenna didn’t say anything, but he could feel her understanding and empathy like a current flowing between them.

  “And then came adolescence and all those raging hormones. It seemed like everyone around me was at the mercy of their feelings and impulses. The kids at school, my own parents...and I knew I never wanted to be like that. I never wanted any impulse to have power over me. So I learned as much as I could about how the body works, how the mind works. I studied the chemistry of emotion. And the more I understood, the more confident I felt that my mind was stronger than any urge my body might have.” He sighed. “I don’t know why it doesn’t help Claire. To know what all those feelings are.”

  Jenna shifted a little on the bench, as if looking for a more comfortable position. It would have been a perfect opportunity for her to drop his hand, but she didn’t. He felt ridiculously pleased by that.

  “But chemistry and molecular diagrams don’t tell you what feelings are. Just what they’re made of.”

  For one brief moment, some part of him understood what she meant. Not linearly, the way he usually understood things, but in an intuitive flash. There’d been a moment like that earlier, when he’d read her song lyrics over Claire’s shoulder. A flash of understanding, there and then gone.

  And now it was gone again. “When you know what something’s made of, then you know what it is.”

  Jenna shook her head, but she was smiling at him. “I have to disagree with you on that. Science is all well and good, but it might be time for you to broaden your horizons a little. It wouldn’t kill you to try a few right brain things. Maybe even listen to a little music. It might help you understand Claire.”

  “It’s not like I hate music. I do listen to classical sometimes. And I really enjoyed singing those carols tonight. But I’ve never loved it, the way you do. And the music Claire likes is just alien to me.”

  Jenna shook her head again. “Nothing human is alien to me. Some Roman playwright said that thousands of years ago, and it’s still true. If it’s human, you can understand it.”

  She slipped her hand out of his then, and set her feet on the ground. In another second she’d stand up, bringing the night to an end.

  “Wait.”

  She turned to look at him, and only then did he realize he’d spoken out loud.

  He’s spoken instinctively, wanting to keep her with him just a little longer. But now she was waiting for him to say something.

  “Maybe you could teach me. About the kind of music Claire likes.”

  She tilted her head to the side. “You really want that?”

  It would be a chance to get closer to his daughter, and to spend more time with Jenna.

  “Yeah. If you’re willing.”

  He could see her thinking about it. “If you’ve never gravitated to music on your own, I’m not sure how much I can—”

  “What happened to nothing human is alien to me? Are you afraid to put that to the test?”

  She started to smile. “That sounds like a challenge.”

  “It is.”

  She was grinning now. “All right, then, Dr. Stone. You’re on. We’ll get Claire in on this, too. She can help me put together a personalized syllabus. She’ll love the idea of teaching you something, for a change. When’s the last time you learned something from your daughter?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know if I ever have. Not like you’re talking about.”

  “Well, then, it’s about time. Claire and I will give you a musical education that will land you firmly in the ranks of the cool. Music appreciation lessons, free of charge.”

  “Nothing in life is free. How about letting me cook for you again?”

  “Considering that my culinary skills consist of calling the pizza place, alternating with calling the Chinese place, I will gladly let you feed me anytime you’re willing.”

  “Great. Name the day.”

  “I have plans tomorrow, but how about Saturday? We could do the same thing we did tonight. Dinner at your place, music at mine.”

  She had plans for tomorrow? “That’ll work.”

  “Saturday it is, then.”

  They both got to their feet, and he walked with her to her back door. He wondered why it hadn’t occurred to him that she was probably seeing someone. She was warm, intelligent, and sexy as hell. Of course she was seeing someone.

  “Do you have a date?”

  She looked up at him in surprise. “What?”

  “Tomorrow
night. Are you going on a date?”

  She frowned a little. “No. I’m going to a fundraiser with my sister.”

  “Oh.”

  Jenna slid her hands into her pockets, still frowning. She turned her head to look out at the back yard.

  After a moment she looked back at him again. “I’m leaving in August,” she said. “I’m only here for the summer.”

  There was a funny lurch in his heart. “I know your band’s travelling for a couple of months, but you mentioned that your family lives nearby. I guess I thought you’d be coming back after the tour’s over.”

  She shook her head. “I’ll be heading to L.A. in November. I’ve got a job out there.”

  He looked up at her house. “But you have a piano.” The words sounded absurd as they came out of his mouth, but Jenna didn’t laugh.

  “The piano came with the house. It’s my Aunt Beth’s place. She and my uncle are travelling this summer, and I’m house sitting for them.” She hesitated. “So...like I said, I’m only staying through August. And I’m not planning to date anyone while I’m here. It wouldn’t really make sense, with me leaving so soon.”

  He was surprised at the strength of his disappointment. “Yeah, of course.” He took a quick breath. “Well, I’ll be glad to have you as a neighbor for as long as you’re here. And thanks again for tonight. Claire and I had a wonderful time.”

  “So did I,” she said, her head tilted back as she looked up at him.

  Her hair was a cloud of black silk, her eyes wide and blue. She was only a few inches away, and he could finally breathe in her wildflower fragrance, the scent he’d only caught hints of all night.

  Her full, soft lips were parted, and he wanted to kiss her so badly he had to force himself to take a step back.

  “Good night,” he said, his voice a little rough.

  “Good night, Michael.”

  She paused for a moment, still looking up at him. Then she opened her door and was gone.

  Chapter Three

  Jenna was right. Claire loved the idea of teaching him about music. He told her the plan over breakfast and her eyes lit up.

  “That’s an awesome idea. Jenna is so cool.” She gulped down her orange juice and set the empty glass on the table. “Of course,” she added nonchalantly, “I know the real reason you suggested it.”

  “The real reason?”

  “Uh huh. I saw the way you looked at Jenna last night.”

  He took a sip of coffee. “I didn’t look at her any special way.”

  His daughter rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. You totally have the hots for her.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “Claire....”

  “Fine,” Claire said, sighing with exaggerated patience. “Whatever you say.”

  He should have been suspicious at how quickly she gave up, but he was too grateful for the reprieve to care. Claire finished the last bite of her omelet and carried her plate to the sink.

  “There she is now,” Claire said, looking out the kitchen window. “It looks like she’s been out for a run...she’s wearing spandex shorts and a tank top.”

  Michael was on his feet before he realized it, going to stand beside his daughter. He looked out the window but didn’t see Jenna. “Where is she? I don’t—”

  Too late, he realized what had happened. He glanced down at Claire and saw she was grinning at him.

  “I can’t believe I fell for that.”

  “Come on, Dad, just admit you have a crush on Jenna. I promise I won’t give you a hard time.”

  “Oh, sure,” he said. He went back to the kitchen table and sat down again, pouring himself a fresh cup of coffee.

  Claire cleared the table without being asked, and started to wash the dishes.

  Their conversation might be embarrassing, but the upside was that she was talking to him voluntarily...and even doing chores voluntarily. That was worth a little humiliation, right?

  Although he had to set her straight before she got her hopes up.

  “Look, Claire...Jenna’s not interested in a relationship right now. So don’t get any ideas, okay?”

  “How do you know she’s not interested?”

  “Because she said so.”

  Claire spun around to stare at him, her hands dripping soapy water. “You asked her? What did you say? What did she say? Exact words, Dad.”

  He sighed. “I asked if she was seeing anyone. She said no, and that she’s not planning to while she’s here. Because she’s only staying for the summer.”

  Claire looked disappointed. “She is?”

  “Yeah, she is,” Michael said gently. “She’s starting a job in L.A. after her tour. I guess she doesn’t like Iowa any better than you do.”

  Claire turned back to the sink. “Iowa’s not so bad,” she said, her back to him. “Maybe if you gave her a reason to stay, she—”

  “Stop right there. Whatever romantic notions are floating around in your brain, let them go. Nothing’s going to happen between Jenna and me.”

  Claire was quiet for a minute, scrubbing the omelet pan before she rinsed it clean and set it in the dish drain. Then she turned around. “Summer’s not over yet,” she said. “You’ve got enough time to convince her to stay.”

  Something inside him tightened. “Yeah, right. Because I’m so good at convincing women to stay.”

  As soon as the words were out of his mouth he wished he could take them back. They sounded bitter, and while he’d been thinking of Angela and his ex-girlfriend, Denise, it occurred to him that Claire might think he was talking about her.

  But her expression was sympathetic. “Oh, Dad,” she said.

  That made him smile. How bad did things have to be for a self-involved teenager to feel sorry for you?

  “Hey, don’t worry about me. I like my carefree bachelor lifestyle.”

  Claire rolled her eyes. “Uh huh. I’m sure you’re out partying every night.” She wiped her damp hands on the front of her jeans. “Jenna would be perfect for you. She could loosen you up, and—”

  “Claire, stop. You need to let this go.”

  Now she looked stubborn, an expression he was more used to. “If this was a math problem or some theory you were trying to prove, you wouldn’t give up so fast.”

  Michael raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you always telling me people aren’t like math problems?”

  “I didn’t say to treat Jenna like a math problem. I just think you shouldn’t give up, that’s all.”

  Retreat might be the better part of valor here. “I’ll keep it in mind, okay? As long as you promise me you won’t expect anything. I don’t want you wishing and hoping for something that probably won’t happen.”

  She smiled at him. “Okay, Dad. I promise.” She turned to look out the window again, and when she turned back her expression was innocent. “You know, Jenna’s lawn is awfully shaggy. Don’t you think you should offer to mow it for her? It would be the neighborly thing to do.”

  He sighed. “Sure thing, Machiavelli. I’ll offer to mow Jenna’s lawn.”

  Later that afternoon, Jenna gratefully accepted his offer. It was hotter than hell pushing the mower across her overgrown grass, but he was glad to do it after everything she’d already done for him and Claire.

  He glanced over at her back patio, where she and Claire were relaxing in lounge chairs under the shade of an umbrella, sipping lemonade from an ice cold pitcher. They waved at him and he waved back, smiling. Then he got back to work.

  Some primitive part of him, a part of him he hadn’t even known existed, liked to see them relaxing while he worked. No caveman had ever felt more satisfaction dragging a dead animal back to his mate than he felt turning Jenna’s lawn into a well-manicured showpiece. He wished he could do something bigger for her. Build a cathedral, maybe, or fight off a horde of invaders.

  The scientist in him was interested in the biological imperatives behind the feeling. But to the man in him it just se
emed...natural.

  “Dad!”

  He turned his head and saw Claire with a glass of lemonade in her hand. He turned off the mower. “Thanks, honey,” he said gratefully, even though he’d gone to the patio for a glass not long before. He took a long swig and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

  “She likes you,” Claire whispered, even though Jenna was twenty yards away and couldn’t hear them.

  “Huh?”

  “I said, she likes you.”

  He stared at her. “What are you talking about?”

  She rolled her eyes like he was dimwitted. “She’s watching you, okay? She pretends she’s not, but she is. I think you should ask her out.”

  He glanced towards the patio in spite of himself. “Claire, I told you Jenna’s not looking for a relationship right now. And I’m not taking dating advice from my daughter.”

  “If you were better at this on your own, I wouldn’t have to give you advice.”

  “I just don’t think—” He shook his head. “No. We’re not having this conversation.” He handed her his empty glass. “Thanks for the lemonade, Claire.”

  His daughter sighed. “You’re hopeless. You know that?” She headed back towards the patio and he turned on the mower again.

  She liked him.

  The fourteen-year-old phraseology was completely appropriate for the feeling rushing through him now. He knew he couldn’t put his faith in the conclusion of a teenager who worshipped the woman in question, but it didn’t matter. Just the thought that Jenna might be interested, might be watching right now and pretending not to, made his skin feel warm.

  Of course, it was also a hot day.

  He paused for a second. Then he pulled off his tee shirt and hung it over the handle of the lawn mower.

  Talk about primitive. He might as well be a peacock displaying his plumage, or an elk tossing his antlers. In this moment, his education and scientific training had been wiped away completely. He was no more than a male animal who’d chosen his mate, and who was doing everything in his power to make her choose him, too.

  However hopeless his efforts might be.