Cross My Heart by Abigail Strom Read Free Book Online Page A

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 seemed...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.
    ***
    Oh, my.
    Jenna