Cross My Heart: A Contemporary Romance Novel

by Abigail Strom

  ***

  Oh, my.

  Jenna closed her eyes briefly and opened them again. Smooth male skin, broad shoulders, and a powerful back tapering down to a taut waist, where his jeans rode low on his hips.

  Then he turned around and came back towards them.

  She’d known that his upper body was strong and defined, but seeing him like this, bare-skinned, was…wow. His abs were ripped, and it was impossible for the eye not to be drawn downward, following the V of his hipbones below the waistband of his jeans.

  Without thinking she flipped her sunglasses to the top of her head and leaned forward a little.

  “He works out a lot,” Claire said conversationally.

  Jenna froze. Then she put her sunglasses back on and cleared her throat.

  “Does he?” she asked, leaning back in the lounge chair and trying to sound unconcerned. She couldn’t believe she’d ogled the man in front of his daughter.

  “Yeah. There’s a gym at the hospital where he works. He can bench press, like, a million pounds.”

  She could believe it. But it was definitely time to change the subject.

  Luckily, she spotted her other neighbor coming across the lawn with a girl about Claire’s age.

  “Hi, there!” Mrs. Washington called out over the noise of the lawn mower. “I’ve got my granddaughter, Ellie, with me this week, and we wondered if Claire might like to come to the mall with us. We were planning to do a little shopping and then see a movie.”

  Jenna glanced at Claire. “What do you think?”

  “What movie are you going to see?” she asked. Jenna went into the kitchen for two more glasses, and by the time she came out Claire and the other girl were talking eagerly about a romantic comedy that had come out last week.

  “We’ve both already seen it but we totally want to see it again,” Claire said, turning to Jenna.

  Jenna poured out lemonade and handed glasses to the newcomers. “Why don’t you go check with your dad?”

  Claire ran to go talk to him, and Mrs. Washington put a hand over her eyes to watch them. “I don’t suppose you can send that man over to my house when you’re done with him?”

  “Your lawn looks perfect,” Jenna said in surprise.

  “Yes, but I could use a little eye candy. I may be sixty-five, but I’m not dead.”

  Jenna laughed, and Ellie groaned. “Grandma! Don’t say anything like that in front of Claire. You’ll embarrass me.”

  “Sorry, Ella Mae. I promise I’ll behave.”

  Claire came back, and the answer was yes. The three of them walked back to Mrs. Washington’s house, Claire and Ellie talking a mile a minute, and Jenna was left with hot sun, cold lemonade, and the delectable sight of Michael Stone mowing her lawn. And this time she could enjoy the view without worrying about the teenage girl sitting next to her.

  He finished half an hour later and turned off the mower. In the sudden quiet, Jenna could hear herself take a deep breath as he came across the lawn towards her. She hadn’t felt this kind of raw animal attraction since Derek, and that had been five years ago.

  And she wasn’t sure even that could compare with this.

  His torso was just…godlike. His brown hair was falling over his forehead. He was holding his white tee shirt in one hand, and as he stepped from the lawn to the patio he started to pull it on over his head.

  “Hold on,” she said. “Let me have that for a second, would you?”

  He looked surprised. “Sure,” he said, coming up beside her and handing her the shirt. It was warm and dry from the sun and smelled like new mown grass and clean male skin. She rolled it up and tucked it behind her neck, using it as a pillow as she reclined back on the lounge chair and grinned up at him.

  “I could have given you that, instead,” he said, pointing at the cushion on one of the patio chairs.

  “Sure, but this way I’m killing two birds with one stone. I’ve got a comfy headrest, and I’m keeping you shirtless.”

  She told herself there was no harm in a little flirting. She’d been clear last night she wasn’t in the market for a relationship. But as Michael sat down in the chair beside her and poured himself a glass of lemonade, she realized she wanted to do more than flirt with this man. A lot more.

  Then he looked back at her. “The least you could do is return the favor.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “You expect me to go shirtless? Dream on, my friend.”

  He grinned at her. “Okay, maybe not completely shirtless. But you could show me the tattoo on your back.”

  She pretended to think about it, secretly pleased that he was flirting back with her.

  “I suppose that’s a reasonable request,” she said. She was wearing white shorts and a navy blue blouse, and now she pushed the lounge chair flat and turned over on her stomach. She tugged her shorts down an inch or two and flipped up her blouse, and rested her chin on her folded arms.

  After a moment he sat down next to her, and her pulse jumped when she felt his denim-clad thigh against her hip. Then his fingertips brushed her lower back, and a wave of goose bumps swept across her skin.

  “It’s music,” he said after a moment, his voice a little husky. He cleared his throat. “Musical notes, I mean.”

  He was tracing over the tattoo now, stroking her softly, and it felt so good she had to tighten her muscles to keep from arching up against his hand.

  “I had it done about ten years ago. It’s a few measures from Bach’s Concerto for Two Violins.”

  His fingers stilled. “You’re kidding.”

  “No. Why do you sound so surprised?” She turned on her side to look up at him, and his hand ended up on her bare waist.

  “I love that concerto. I love Bach.”

  She smiled up at him. “I thought you said you weren’t that into music.”

  “I told you I like classical,” he reminded her.

  She turned onto her back, and that brought his hand to her bare stomach. For a second she thought he’d pull away, but then his fingers trailed softly over her skin towards her belly button. Her stomach muscles tightened as he touched the silver ring there.

  “Did it hurt to get this done?” he asked. He tugged on the ring gently, the barest pull, and sensation stabbed through her.

  “A little,” she whispered. He was looking down at her bare stomach, and his index finger started to trace slow, hypnotic circles around the ring.

  His touch was feather soft. Her skin there was so sensitive. Her breath was coming faster, and he had to be aware of it.

  She started to tremble. God, he could see that, too. His eyes lifted to hers, and they stared at each other for one frozen moment.

  “Jenna!”

  She turned her head to see her sister Allison walking briskly towards them.

  Good God. Was it five o’clock already?

  Jenna hardly ever felt self-conscious, but she did now. She sat up quickly, thrusting Michael’s tee shirt at him and straightening her blouse. Michael jumped to his feet and pulled the shirt over his head. A moment later Allison was with them on the patio.

  “Michael! I thought that was you.”

  He cleared his throat. “Allison, hi. I didn’t realize you and Jenna were sisters.”

  Jenna hoped her voice sounded as normal as his did. “You two know each other?” she asked, and Allison nodded. Her sister’s eyes were curious as she looked between the two of them.

  “From the hospital,” she explained. Allison ran a charitable foundation for children with cancer, and she knew a lot of M.D.s. “And of course I work with Michael’s…uh…” she paused. “With Denise. I work with Denise,” she went on, looking flustered. “She’s an oncologist,” she added.

  Jenna glanced from her sister to Michael. “Girlfriend or ex-girlfriend?” she asked, trying to keep her tone light. It wasn’t like she had a vested interest.

  “Ex-girlfriend,” Michael said. He paused. “Okay, I’m going to head back to my place now. I hope you ladies have a great tim
e tonight.”

  “You’re not going to be there?” Allison asked.

  Michael shook his head. “I’m on vacation, and my daughter’s visiting. I sent my regrets—and a big check, of course. It’s a good cause.”

  She and Allison were quiet as they watched him walk away, his long strides eating up the distance between the two houses. When he came to his back door he went inside without looking back.

  “Well, well, well,” Allison said. When Jenna turned to look at her she saw a wide smile on her sister’s face.

  “Don’t start,” Jenna warned her, getting to her feet and picking up empty lemonade glasses.

  Allison followed her into the house with the pitcher. “Why shouldn’t I start? You used to tease me about Rick. A lot.”

  “Yeah, but there was actually something going on between you and Rick. There’s nothing going on between me and Michael.”

  “I’ve got two things to say to that,” Allison commented as she set the empty pitcher on the kitchen counter. “One, you are such a liar. Two, if there isn’t, there should be. He’s handsome, he’s a wonderful doctor, and he’s a good man. Women are always after him down at the hospital, but I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he was looking at you. He’s also a grownup, unlike any of the other men you’ve ever dated. Explain to me what the problem is here.”

  Jenna frowned, annoyed by Allison’s little summation. “Not everyone wants to date a grownup. Not everyone wants to be a grownup. And I’m only here for the summer, so even if I wanted to start something with Michael, I wouldn’t. Why go there?”

  Allison leaned back against the counter, folding her arms. “You know, ever since you came back, you’ve been telling me and Mom and Dad all the reasons you’re not staying. Have you ever thought that maybe a part of you wants to stay?”

  Jenna headed for the stairs and Allison followed her.

  “No, I haven’t thought that.” She went into her bedroom and over to the closet. “I haven’t thought it because it isn’t true. I don’t want to stay. I don’t want to live in Iowa and be near my family, much as I love you all. And I definitely don’t want to marry a doctor and have kids and a yard and something hot in the oven.”

  She pulled a low cut, fire engine red dress out of her closet. “What I want is to live in an apartment in the city, where I never have to cut the grass. I want to teach kids, but not have to put them to bed at night. I want to eat takeout every day. And I want to date men with commitment issues who will never ask me to settle down.”

  Allison was sitting on the edge of her bed, completely unfazed by her outburst. “Wow. Michael’s really gotten under your skin, hasn’t he?”

  Jenna stripped down to her underwear and bra and pulled the dress over her head. “You didn’t hear a word I just said, did you?”

  “I listened to the subtext,” Allison said with a grin.

  Jenna glared at her as she slipped on a pair of strappy red sandals. “Listen to the damn text the next time. I’m not interested in Michael, and I don’t want to stay in Iowa. Got it?”

  “You bet,” Allison agreed cheerfully. “No Michael, no Iowa. Got it.”

  Jenna went to the mirror to check her makeup. “It’s not that I don’t like him,” she said, wondering if she’d been a little too vehement. “I do like him. I like his daughter, too. She’s fourteen and she lives in Florida, and they don’t see each other very much. She’s here for a visit, and it’s obvious that their relationship isn’t the greatest. And it hurts him. I can see how much he loves her, and how much he wishes things were different.”

  “So you feel sorry for him?”

  “Well…yes. I guess I do. But it’s not just that. I mean, I’m interested in him as a person. In a neighbor-and-potential-friend kind of way,” she clarified.

  “And it’s completely escaped your notice that the man is gorgeous?”

  There was no time to tame her hair, so Jenna held it back from her face with a red velvet headband. “I wouldn’t say it’s escaped my notice,” she admitted. “But like I said, I don’t want to start something I already know is going to end. And even if I did want to, Michael doesn’t seem like the type to go for a casual affair.”

  She paused, and then asked, “What was the deal with…what did you say her name was? Denise.”

  “What do you want to know?” Allison asked, getting up from the bed to stand beside her sister.

  Jenna looked at the two of them in the mirror, admiring the way Allison’s blue chiffon cocktail dress brought out the color in her eyes. Until recently, Allison would never have worn a dress like that. She never liked to draw attention to herself physically. But since Rick Hunter had come into her life, she’d grown comfortable with her own beauty in a way Jenna had never seen before.

  “You look amazing,” she said now, putting an arm around her sister’s waist.

  Allison smiled at Jenna’s reflection. “Thanks. So do you. But what do you want to know about Denise?”

  What did she want to know?

  “Why did they break up?” she asked as they went back downstairs. She grabbed her purse from the hall table and followed Allison out the front door.

  “Well…you have to remember that I’m a lot closer to Denise than Michael. So this is all her side of the story. She said he’s a wonderful man but kind of…cold.”

  Jenna frowned. “That’s not true,” she said as she went around to the passenger side of her sister’s truck. She slammed the door shut a little harder than necessary. “Michael’s not cold.”

  Allison shot her a sidelong glance as she slid behind the wheel and turned the key in the ignition. “She said he was amazing in bed but a little detached. Like he’s not really a passionate person.”

  Jenna felt a sudden rush of anger. “I don’t suppose it ever occurred to her that she might have been the problem? With the right woman, he—”

  She stopped and looked at Allison. “Wipe that grin off your face. You used to look exactly like that when we were kids and you thought you scored some big victory.”

  Allison kept smiling. “I just think you’re pretty protective of a guy you’re not interested in.”

  Protective? Was she being protective?

  Yes…and defensive, too. A sure sign that she was feeling vulnerable. That something had gotten under her skin.

  Jenna thought about that little tug on her belly ring, gentle and yet subtly possessive, that had sent desire stabbing through her. She remembered Michael’s hand on her bare stomach, spinning a thread of want that spiraled through her whole body.

  Detached? There had been nothing detached about it.

  “You’ll be seeing Denise at the fundraiser tonight, by the way. She’s one of the speakers.”

  Jenna shouldn’t have cared. But in spite of herself, she was curious. What kind of woman could think Michael was cold?

  She’d only known him for two days, and she’d seen the warmth in him.

  Not to mention the fact that he’d managed to raise her temperature several degrees. She thought of those dizzying moments on her patio and felt blood rush to her cheeks.

  To a woman who didn’t want to get attached, Dr. Michael Stone could be a dangerous man.

  But he definitely wasn’t cold.

  Chapter Four

  Michael was reading a medical journal in the living room, sitting by a window that gave him a perfect view of Jenna’s house. When he heard the sound of a truck pulling up next door, he looked up.

  Allison had parked under a street light and he could see the two sisters clearly, talking and laughing for a minute before Jenna got out and slammed the door behind her. She waved as Allison pulled away.

  She didn’t even glance at his house before going inside her own. He, on the other hand, had been sitting by this window for the past hour.

  He was acting like a jealous lover. And from the moment he’d left Jenna on the patio, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her.

  He kept replaying those last few minu
tes in his mind. The small of her back. The indentation of her spine, dipping down to her slender waist. The curve of her hips, and the glimpse of smooth, rounded flesh when she’d tugged her shorts down an inch or two.

  That had nearly killed him. Even now, hours later, his body hardened when he thought of it.

  Her tattoo was beautiful—musical notes dancing their way across her flawless skin. He’d touched her before he could stop himself, tracing over the elegant black marks, and she hadn’t pulled away.

  Then she’d turned over. The sight of the silver ring in her belly button had shot straight to his groin. He’d felt a rush of possessiveness, something primal and primitive that he’d never felt for another woman.

  He’d tugged on the little piece of metal before stroking her bare stomach, and her muscles had tightened beneath his fingers.

  He’d looked into her eyes, and what he saw stunned him. He hadn’t really believed that Jenna Landry could be attracted to him—not like he was to her.

  Then her sister had arrived, and he’d done the only thing he could do: gotten the hell away and prayed that neither woman had noticed the erection straining against his jeans.

  He took a cold shower, which calmed his body for all of five minutes. Until he looked out a window to see Jenna leaving her house in a flame-colored dress, her dark gypsy hair floating loose around her shoulders.

  She was going to the oncology wing fundraiser in that dress. He thought of the single men who’d be there, seeing her like that, and the possessiveness that had rocked him on her patio swept through him again, leaving him shaking.

  He got a grip on himself and went into his study, hoping to calm himself down by working on one of his current research projects.

  Compiling data had always been a soothing activity for him, but tonight he couldn’t stay focused. He sat back in his desk chair and dragged a hand through his hair.

  What he needed to do was apply logic to the problem. That would put his feelings into perspective.

  Jenna was leaving in August. She’d made it clear she didn’t want to get involved with anyone while she was here.

  Which left them with three options.