Read Cross My Heart Online

Authors: Abigail Strom

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Cross My Heart (8 page)

“What’s the favor for tomorrow?” she asked, and he told her about his friend and the clinic shift he had to cover.

“I won’t be back until eight, so I’m hoping we can reschedule for another night.”

“Sure, of course. That’s no problem at all. I’m free most nights next week.”

“Claire was mad at me for taking the shift,” he said, looking out over the porch railing at the quiet, tree-lined street. A soft breeze teased through the leaves. “I told her you’d be okay with it, but…”

Jenna shrugged. “She’s a teen. Teens don’t like to wait for things. She’ll probably be fine with it by tomorrow morning.” A thought occurred to her. “I could still spend the evening with her, if she wants.”

He looked at her in surprise. “Really? You’d do that?”

What was it about this man and his daughter? Something about them just made her want to help. “Of course. I’d love to have dinner with Claire. And, you know, eight o’clock isn’t so late. The three of us could still get together for a little music appreciation, if you’re not too tired when you get home.”

“That would be great.”

“Okay, then, we have a plan. What time does your shift start?”

“I’ll be leaving around two in the afternoon.”

“Tell Claire I’ll stop by around then. We can spend the afternoon together, if she wants.”

“I can pretty much guarantee that she will.” He paused, and Jenna reminded herself not to close the distance between them, no matter how much she might want to. “So…what made you feel insecure tonight? At the fundraiser,” he reminded her.

She smiled a little. “It was your ex-girlfriend, actually.”

He stared at her. “Denise made you feel insecure?”

“Well, not just her. But she was at our table at dinner, and at one point people started talking about where they’d gone to school. Everyone went somewhere impressive, but Denise kind of took the cake. Summa cum laude from the University of Chicago, top of her class at Johns Hopkins...”

She shrugged. “Before the conversation could get around to me, I left the table and went to the bathroom. And I stayed there until I figured they’d moved on to a different topic.” She sighed. “Stupid, huh?”

He was frowning at her. “But you went to school, too. For music education.”

“Sure, at a college no one’s ever heard of. And before I could enroll, I had to get my GED. I never graduated from high school.”

Michael was still frowning. In spite of herself, she felt a rush of insecurity, just like she had at the fundraiser. “I bet you don’t hang around with a lot of high school dropouts,” she said, trying to speak lightly. “Do you think I’ll be a bad influence on Claire?”

She was only half joking.

“Do you really want to know what I think?”

Did she? “Um…yes.”

“I think you’ll be a great influence on Claire. You’re caring and smart and passionate, and I bet you’re an incredible teacher. And an incredible musician.” He paused. “As far as high school goes, I won’t lie to you. I hope Claire graduates. But you left to follow your dreams, and you made them come true. That’s what I want for Claire. I want her to find out what she wants in life, and go after it with everything she’s got. Like you.”

Jenna felt unexpectedly warmed by his words. “Thanks, Michael.”

After a moment he spoke again. “I have to admit, it surprises me that anything or anyone could make you feel insecure. You seem so…I don’t know, comfortable with yourself.”

“I am, most of the time. I don’t usually waste energy comparing myself to other people or worrying what they might think. But with this reunion tour coming up, I’ve been thinking a lot about choices. Wondering if I’ve made the right ones. Plus I just turned thirty, which feels like a milestone kind of birthday. I know I’m changing, I know I’m not the same person I used to be…but I’m not sure who I’m becoming. And I’m not always sure I want to change at all.”

She wondered why she was telling him all this. It was more than she’d told anyone else.

“What are you afraid of losing?” he asked. He was looking at her intently, like he was genuinely interested in what she was saying.

“My edge. I’m afraid of losing the wild part of myself, the adventurous part. I guess I’m afraid of being domesticated,” she added with a smile. “Does that sound weird to you?”

He shook his head. “No. You’re a free spirit, and you don’t want that to change.” He studied her for a moment. “Being in Iowa probably makes you worry about it more. Your parents live nearby, right? A reminder of the kind of life you don’t want.”

“That’s pretty perceptive,” she said slowly. “And yes, my parents’ farm is just outside of town. They’re wonderful, and I had a great childhood in so many ways—but the truth is, I couldn’t wait to get away. I love my mom so much, but when I thought about having a life like hers, tied to her husband, tied to her kids, tied to the land…it made me feel like I was choking. Like I couldn’t breathe. I was always so restless…being back here makes me remember just how restless I was.” She smiled reminiscently. “My dad used to call me his gypsy girl.”

“Do you think you could settle down in L.A., once you’re out there?”

She shook her head. “Probably not. I loved Chicago, but even there I got restless sometimes. The movie project I’ll be working on should last about six months, and I haven’t decided what I’ll do after that. The truth is, I like having the freedom to roam. I don’t think I’ll ever put down roots.”

“Has anyone ever tried to change your mind?”

She looked at him, wondering what was behind the question. “Once,” she said after a moment. “I fell madly in love when I was twenty-two. Derek and I were together for three years. He was a bass player, and when his band got big he wanted me to quit the Mollies and marry him. And I was ready to do it.”

“What happened?”

“I found him in bed with my best friend. Which ended our relationship and broke up the Mollies in one fell swoop, since she was our lead singer.”

He stared at her.

“What?” she asked after a short silence, trying to decipher his expression. Was he feeling sorry for her?

“I can’t imagine a man cheating on you. I can’t imagine being with you and even looking at another woman.”

It wasn’t the response she’d expected, but a rush of something sweet went through her.

“Well…thanks. The next time I see Derek I’ll tell him you said so.”

Silence settled over them. Michael rested a foot against the porch rail, rocking the swing gently back and forth.

“Do you miss it?” he asked after a while.

“Miss what?”

“The life you had with the Mollies. Before you broke up.”

“Sometimes. I really loved performing, and it was hard to give that up. But it’s a tough life, too. Late nights, crazy schedules, a lot of drugs around.”

“Were you ever into that?”

She shook her head. “No. My little sister, Megan, was diagnosed with cancer a few months after I left home. She died three years later. Watching her struggle so hard for life…there’s no way I would have thrown mine away on drugs.”

“Megan’s House,” Michael said softly.

Jenna glanced at him in surprise. “That’s one of Allison’s projects.”

He nodded. “I contribute to her foundation, so I get her newsletter. I didn’t realize the significance of the name, though. It’s a retreat center for families dealing with childhood cancer, right?”

Jenna nodded.

“How old was Megan when she died?”

“Fourteen.”

“She was Claire’s age. God, I can’t even imagine it. I can see why Allison does the work she does.”

Jenna slid her hands into her pockets as she looked out into the night. It was so quiet she could almost hear her own heart beating.

She’d been eighteen when Megan got the cancer diagnosis, and twenty-one when she died. One of her biggest regrets was that she hadn’t spent more time at home during those years. She’d buried herself in music, and even though she’d come home as often as she could between concerts and recording sessions, the truth was, she could have done more. The band had offered to cancel tour dates so she could take a break, but she’d said no.

Her twin brother, Jake, had just enlisted in the Army when Megan got sick, so there was no way he could have come home. But she could have.

“Did I say something wrong?” Michael asked after a minute.

She shook her head, wondering why all her insecurities were rising to the surface tonight. “I was just thinking it’s a shame Allison’s taken. The two of you would make a perfect couple. You’ve both dedicated your lives to helping other people.”

He shrugged. “I think Allison’s great, but there was never any attraction there.”

That was all he said, but unspoken words seemed to hang in the air between them. The silence felt charged, and a tingle of awareness made her conscious of every inch of skin as the porch swing moved slowly back and forth.

When it came to summer nights, Iowa had Chicago beat. The sweet scent of freshly mown grass…the soft breeze against her face…the music of the crickets. She tried to focus on that and not the big male body just a foot or two away from her. After a few minutes she leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

She jerked upright when she felt Michael’s arm slide behind her shoulders.

“Sorry,” he said when she turned startled eyes on him. “I just thought you’d be more comfortable with a head rest.”

She hesitated.

“It’s all right,” he said softly. “Go ahead and lean back. Close your eyes again.”

So she leaned back, a little cautiously at first but then relaxing against his strong arm. He shifted, and after a moment she found herself sitting sideways on the swing, her head resting against the place where his chest met his shoulder.

It was incredibly comfortable, but she had no desire to close her eyes. Her pulse was racing too fast for that.

He smelled so good. No cologne or after shave—just clean male skin.

After a few minutes he began to stroke her hair. His caress was light, gentle, sending waves of sensation through her body.

Then his thumb brushed against her earlobe. Shivers ran down her spine like water, and she made an almost helpless sound of pleasure.

His hand froze in her hair. Jenna stopped breathing, and they both went still.

“I should be heading home,” she said after a long moment, rising to her feet without looking at him.

After a few seconds he got up, too.

He walked her home, as she’d known he would. And he looked down at her again, like he had last night, in the dim glow of the light above her back door.

“Good night, Jenna. And thanks again for tomorrow.”

She nodded. “No problem. Tell Claire I’ll see her at two o’clock.” She reached for the doorknob, her hand shaking a little, and when the door stuck a surge of panic went through her.

It opened with a jerk. Michael hadn’t moved a muscle during her brief struggle, though she’d been very conscious of his big body looming behind her. His expression was hard to read when she met his eyes one more time.

“Good night,” she said, disappearing inside as quickly as she could.

She went straight through the kitchen and up the stairs, putting as much physical distance between her and Michael as possible.

Wasted effort. Standing in her bedroom, taking deep breaths while her heart thumped in her chest, she wasn’t sure Australia would be far enough away to dull her attraction to this man.

She didn’t think any place would be.

 

 

Chapter Five

Claire suggested a trip to the mall, and Jenna agreed. She hadn’t been to a mall in months, and she figured she’d enjoy it as much as Claire.

Well, maybe not quite that much. Claire was literally bouncing with excitement as she pulled her from store to store. They’d been at it for an hour and had already looked at video games, music posters, jewelry and shoes. Now they were going into what Jenna suspected would be the first of several clothing stores.

Claire went straight to the teen section and pulled a low cut top and a micro mini skirt off the rack. “This is so hot. Do you mind if I try this on, Jenna?”

“Not at all,” she said, even though she privately thought the look was way too old for a fourteen year old girl. But she’d decided at the beginning of this trip that she wouldn’t express any opinions that sounded like judgments—she remembered how well that had gone over with her when she was Claire’s age. So she went with her into the dressing room and sat down on one of the cushioned benches in the waiting area.

Yep, too old,
she thought as the slender girl came out of her booth and twirled around in front of her. She didn’t have much cleavage, but the little she had was on full display. The top also left her stomach bare, and the mini skirt barely reached the tops of her thighs.

“What do you think?” Claire asked. “I know you’ll tell me the truth, Jenna.”

Jenna had opened her mouth to say something neutral, but Claire’s comment pulled her up short. She looked at the girl’s eager, smiling face.

“Do you really want to know what I think?”

“Of course!”

“Even if it comes out like a lecture?”

Instead of getting mad, Claire grinned at her. “It’s okay. I can take it. You think it’s too sexy, right?”

Jenna made room for her on the bench. “I just think that particular brand of sexy isn’t a woman’s best weapon, and it’s definitely not her only one. If you reduce yourself to that, then that’s what people will see. They won’t notice anything else about you.”

“You always look sexy, though,” Claire said. “Not slutty or anything,” she added quickly. “I mean, I usually see you in jeans and tee shirts.”

Jenna smiled. “That’s what I’m talking about. I don’t dress sexy very often—only on special occasions, and only when it’ll make
me
happy. But I’m comfortable with myself, and that always comes across as sexy. Real sexy, not the kind you can buy in a store.”

“Oh.”

Claire stood up and looked at herself in the mirror. After a minute she went back into the booth and came out in her jeans and Radiohead tee shirt.

“Where should we go now?” she asked.

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