Читать книгу The Dad Next Door - C.J. Carmichael - Страница 2

The little girl was adorable.

Allison gave her a second look. She seemed familiar. But Allison couldn’t have met her before. The red wagon in the driveway had Connecticut plates.

She glanced back at the father. Definitely she hadn’t seen him before. She would have remembered. He was slender and tall and moved with a natural grace that reminded her of John F Kennedy, from the old footage she’d seen on TV.

She watched as he scooped up his daughter onto his shoulders, then paused to talk to the movers for a minute. Next, he went to the garage and pulled out the tricycle. Gently he set the girl onto the seat.

“Give it a try,” he urged her. And then his gaze met Allison’s.