Taking the Heat (22 page)

“No, wait,” she murmured. “That's all me.” She laughed and sipped her wine, stretching her tired feet under the water. He'd been pretty damn perfect from the start. Or maybe not.

Her insecurities were all her fault, but Gabe was at fault, too. He'd withheld information that he'd known was important. A mistake, but not an unforgivable one, not this early in their relationship. Assuming she wanted it to continue.

She rolled her eyes at her own thought. There was no doubt she wanted it to continue. If she'd written in to her own column, she knew the advice she'd give.
Have you told him all of your secrets? Did you sweep all the skeletons out of your closet on the first date and let him examine each one? Just because he gave you your first good lay doesn't mean you're married. Lighten up.

Lighten up. And stop being scared. There was good news to be had here. Gabe had spent time around the sophisticated women of Manhattan. He'd hung out with models. Hell, maybe he'd even had sex with them. And he liked Veronica.

“Don't be flattered that a man wants to have sex with you,” she said aloud.

She sunk her head under the water to wet her hair. “Yeah, right,” she sputtered when she came up. She was so flattered she was squirming.

When the water grew cold, she forced herself out of the tub. It was still early. She could get some work done.

“Sure,” she muttered, “I'll work instead of getting fucked a few times. That'll be great.” Yeah, the bath definitely hadn't washed away that bitterness.

She put on her feeling-sorry-for-herself clothes: yoga pants and a big sweatshirt. Then she found her phone. Her heart skipped at the sight of two missed texts from Gabe, but it fell to the pit of her stomach when she read the first.

We're going out tonight with some of my friends. Come with?
The second one had arrived a few minutes later.
Please?

She didn't want to go. She could be weird and awkward around Gabe, but she didn't want to be herself in front of his friends, and she didn't have the energy to be edgy Dear Veronica tonight. But the idea of sitting around her lonely apartment without Gabe was too much to bear.

She wrote back before she could overthink it.
You promised me drinks and orgasms. I doubt I'll get the latter at a bar.

His reply buzzed within seconds.
Drinks first, then orgasms, I promise.

You already promised that, and look where I am right now.
 
She pouted at the phone.

Where are you right now?
 
he asked.

She looked down at her fleece and the pink fuzzy socks she wore.
I just got out of the bath.

Oh, God. You didn't come yet, did you?

She laughed, imagining husky desperation in his words.
Not YET, no...

Please
, he wrote.
Tonight.

With your sister in the next room?

The phone stayed silent for a long moment, and then his reply appeared.
I'll give Naomi and Monique my bed for tonight if you're willing to share yours?

“God,” she sighed. She wanted that so much. Wanted Gabe in her bed, making love to her until she fell asleep and then waking her with more later.

My bed's kind of small for a big man like you.

We'll cuddle
, he answered
.

Laughing, she collapsed onto her bed and wished he were there already.
 
All right. I'll see you tonight.

As soon as he sent the details about the plans, her anxiety returned, but this time instead of indulging it, Veronica jumped to her feet and stormed into the kitchen. She jerked open the drawer, got out her marker and paper, and wrote a new note.

“Perfect,” she growled as she slapped it onto the fridge and used her last magnet to hold it in place.

#5—Have a little fucking confidence and enjoy yourself for once.

She was not going to be defeated by New York City. Not this time.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“S
HE
 
SEEMS
 
PERFECT
for you,” Naomi said. “Very sporty.”

Gabe shot her a glare. He wasn't sure sporty was supposed to be a compliment in this case. “I taught her how to climb today.”

“Ooh! How come you've never taught me to climb?”

“Because you said if you broke a nail, you'd make my life a living hell.”

“Ah, that sounds right. So.” She looked him up and down as he rolled up the sleeves of his green plaid shirt. “You're a little dressed up for a night at the bar. Are you in love with this girl or what?”

“I'm wearing jeans!” he protested.

“You're wearing
real shoes
. I've never seen you out in anything nicer than a T-shirt and sneakers.” She slipped on heels and grabbed a jacket that looked as if it was short enough for a toddler.

“That's an exaggeration,” he said. “And if you want to keep warm, you might want to bring a jacket that goes down farther than your...rib cage.”

“You mean my boobs?”

Gabe shook his head. “No, I did not mean that.”

“Stop changing the subject. Are you in love with this girl or what?”

“I've been dating her for just over a week.”

“So?”

Gabe picked up the clothes his sister had tossed on his bed and moved them back to her suitcase. “How's Dad?”

“The same. He can't stop talking about you coming home, even though he pretends he hates the idea of retiring.”

He sat down on the bed. “He does hate the idea of retiring. He only agreed to it because I agreed to take over. For now.”

Naomi sat next to him, dropping hard enough to make him bounce twice before she settled an arm around his waist. “I'm sorry, Gabe. I've only got about five more good years left in modeling, if that.”

“Yeah. I know.” They'd had this talk a thousand times. “I don't blame you, Naomi. I'm the one who pushed for him to retire at sixty instead of sixty-five. He's slowing way down. His doctor keeps telling him to lose some weight, change his diet, and Dad's never going to do that when he's in the restaurants every day.”

“Do you really think he's going to stay out of the shop just because you've taken over?”

Gabe groaned and fell back on the bed, dragging Naomi with him. “I don't know. But I can always threaten to leave again if he doesn't behave.”

“You won't do that,” she sighed.

“I know.” He wouldn't. He and his sisters were their Dad's whole world. He'd started training them in the restaurant business from age three up, finding jobs that even toddlers could help with. His dream had been for the whole family to work together, but then his kids had scattered like leaves on the wind, and his wishes had disappeared along with them.

“I just want him to be happy,” Gabe said. “And healthy.”

“I'll help in a few years,” Naomi promised. Gabe didn't voice his doubts. She'd promised that before. And whether she was modeling or not, his sister wasn't the type to put both feet firmly on the ground. But maybe she'd pull through. She had to settle down sometime.

“Why did Claire have to become a vegetarian?” he groaned.

“Vegan,” Naomi corrected.

It didn't matter to Gabe. He didn't care what she ate or didn't eat; he only cared that she'd walked away from MacKenzie's. “Yeah. By the way, Mom's cookies are great. Cherry thumbprint. Your favorite.”

“Shut up!” She slugged his arm. “You're just as bad as they are.”

“I'm just giving you the option.”

They lay silently together for a few heartbeats, reminding Gabe of the many summers they'd spent on beaches as kids. There'd been so many evenings of trying to eke out the last few minutes as their mom called from the porch of the rented house. Their dad had sometimes come for a few days, too, but he'd always needed to get back to work. Gabe was just starting to relax into the mattress when Naomi bounded up. “All right. Just one cookie.”

She disappeared, and Gabe hauled himself up to follow her into the living room. Monique appeared from the bathroom, wearing sparkling purple eye makeup now with little bits of glitter that danced over her cheekbones. She'd clearly never been to a bar in Jackson, but Gabe was sure she'd be popular, regardless of the sparkles. She slipped on silver heels that set off the skin of her legs and then held her arms up to the sky. “Ready?” she asked.

He was ready to see Veronica, so he nodded and grabbed his keys. Naomi hurried out and handed him a half-eaten cookie. “Finish this,” she ordered.

“Come on, Naomi, you can have one cookie.”

“It's my second one!” she screeched. Monique just followed silently as usual. He'd rarely heard her speak. Some guys seemed to be enchanted by that, but Gabe couldn't figure it out. How were you supposed to be interested in a woman who didn't even talk, much less one who didn't babble funny, awkward things whenever she got nervous?

Veronica had insisted on meeting them at the bar, but Gabe still had to fight the urge to swing by her place and see if she wanted to walk with them. A glance at his watch told him she'd probably left ten minutes before, so he led the two women straight toward a place two blocks off the main square. Not quite a dive, but definitely a locals' place.

He spotted Veronica at a table with a few of his friends as soon as he walked in. They must have called her over to join them. She was deep in conversation with Benton, and even when Gabe sat down next to her, she only offered a wave before carrying on. She looked as pretty as ever, but tonight she was wearing a black tank top and tight jeans. Gabe introduced Naomi and Monique to the others and then leaned a little closer to Veronica.

“I'm not an expert in education or autism,” she said, “but I have an idea. If you can't afford to go back and visit very often, maybe you could send a recording. I know you said he doesn't want to talk on the phone, so maybe something playable would be better. A video of you reading a story or singing a song or just talking about something you like. That might help him hear you without having to engage on the spot.”

“That's a great suggestion!” Benton said, slapping his hand on the table. “I know repetition can be important to him. And I play a little guitar. I think he likes the Beatles.”

“That's perfect,” Veronica said.

“I just don't want him to forget me, you know? I'm the only uncle he has, but I can't get back to visit more than once a year.” Benton nodded to himself before his gaze shifted to Gabe. “Man, I can't believe you're dating Dear Veronica! She's a genius. How did you pull that off?”

“Just lucky, I guess.”

She turned to him with a smile, and Gabe was struck anew by how sexy she was. Her big eyes were painted dark and smoky again, and her earrings were long strands of silver that moved with every breath she took. “Hey, beautiful,” he said as his gaze fell to her rosy pink mouth. “Thanks for giving me another chance.”

“Stop being charming,” she said, but her gaze was on his mouth, too, as if she wanted to taste him just as much as he wanted to taste her.

He tipped his head toward her ear. “Give me thirty minutes. I just need to be sure Naomi is comfortable, and then she won't care if I'm here anymore. We can go.”

Veronica shook her head. “No, I want to stay and have fun. It's been a long week already.”

“Did some jackass make you try rock climbing or something?”

She laughed, throwing her head back the way she did when she relaxed, and Gabe watched the curve of her neck and remembered that he'd planned to lick her there this afternoon. That had been hours ago. He might start to twitch if he didn't touch her soon.

“Yes,” she laughed, “some jackass made me try rock climbing. But after that stress with the column, I'm down for a little fun.”

He brushed his thumb against hers. “You haven't heard back?”

“No, and I'd like to forget it for a little while.”

“I'll do anything I can,” he said.

While she was laughing, Benton caught Gabe's eye. “Hey, you didn't tell me Naomi was here,” he said, his best charming-bartender smile in place.

Gabe groaned, but there was no keeping those two apart. “She wanted to surprise you.” Within minutes Benton had gotten up and planted himself in between Naomi and Monique.

“Gabe!” Naomi called as the crowd got louder. “Why does Benton keep referring to your girlfriend as Dear Veronica?”

“She's the local advice columnist,” he said with a proud grin.

Naomi's mouth made a perfect O of surprise, as if she were posing for the camera, but her shriek wasn't quite as elegant. “Are you kidding me? Like Dear Abby?”

“Well,” Veronica answered, “a little younger, I hope.”

“That's so cool!” Naomi leaned past Gabe, forcing him to edge back in his seat. He tried not to resent it. “I need some advice! Can you help me?”

“It depends on your problem,” Veronica answered. “But I'll try my best.”

Naomi glanced at Gabe, then looked over her shoulder at Monique before leaning in closer. “I have a friend who's getting married in a month. Great guy, big wedding, expensive honeymoon, all that. But here's the thing... Three months ago, she accidentally texted me when she obviously meant to text someone else, because, you know...she mentioned his dick.”

Gabe groaned and leaned farther back as Naomi shot him an irritated look. “I know what a dick is, Gabe.”

“Shut up.”

“Anyway,” she huffed, “she immediately texted again and said, ‘Sorry, that was for Oliver, LOL!' Except I know it wasn't for Oliver. We were all at the same party together, and she was texting and I could see Oliver across the room and he was talking to someone else the whole time! His phone wasn't even in his hand!”

Veronica winced. “Yikes.”

“Exactly!” Naomi said, then glanced back at Monique again to be sure she wasn't listening. “Monique knows her, too,” she whispered. “I don't know what to do. On one hand, it's not my business. On the other, she clearly shouldn't be getting married when she's fucking someone else! Should I say something?”

Veronica frowned, her head cocking to the side as she seemed to puzzle it over. “Are you absolutely sure they don't have an open relationship?”

“Believe me, I'd know if they did.”

“Okay, then I'd say that you should talk to her. Not to try to force her hand about calling off the wedding or coming clean, but just to say, ‘Listen, I know that text wasn't to Oliver and I wondered if you wanted to talk.' Sometimes people get really caught up in the idea of the wedding and they don't know how to get out of it.”

“Yes!” Naomi said. “She talks about the wedding all the time, and she's almost manic about it.”

“If she's someone who's aware of status and appearance—”

Naomi nodded frantically at that.

“—then she might feel like she's not allowed to back out of the wedding. So you could start that conversation. Ask if she's freaked out. Ask if she's really ready to get married, considering the text you saw. Tell her that Oliver is going to be a lot more hurt by an ugly divorce than he will be by a broken engagement. That may be the prompt she needs to reevaluate what she's doing.”

Naomi grabbed Veronica's hands. “Thank you! That's such a good idea. It's been driving me crazy. I haven't told anyone, because it would ruin her life, but I can't just let her go on like everything is fine!”

“She might be relieved. And maybe she'll make the right choice.”

“God,” Naomi sighed, “she's amazing, Gabe. Maybe she could solve all
your
issues.” She squeezed Veronica's hands. “You look amazing tonight, by the way.”

“Thank you,” Veronica said. “You look great, too.” Then her gaze slid to Gabe. “What issues are those?”

He kicked his sister under the table. He knew she was talking about their dad and Gabe's insistence that he could fix everything by coming home. But he wasn't going to have that conversation here. “Oh, you know,” he said. “She worries about me rock climbing.”

“She should worry. It's insane!”

Gabe's tension melted away as Veronica began describing their day to Naomi. She was still calling it insane, but her eyes sparkled with excitement as she described the climb. Her hands flew as she gestured, shaping the details with her hands. “It was the most terrifying thing I've ever done. By far!”

“You're proud of yourself, though,” Gabe said softly.

“Are you kidding? I'm so proud of myself! I totally kicked ass!”

Naomi gave her a high five. “Sing it, sister! Let's get another round of drinks!”

Gabe didn't talk much after that. He mostly just watched Veronica shine the way she did in front of that microphone during the live performances. But this was a little different. It didn't seem like a show. She laughed and told stories and she teased Benton about flirting with Naomi, and...she looked relaxed.

Gabe wanted to watch her like this for hours, and he wanted to take her home right now and make her come. Mostly he just wanted
her
.

And he wasn't the only one, apparently. Someone stepped up behind him and Gabe turned to see Dillon Tettering standing there, hands in his pockets and charming smile in place.

All of Gabe's muscles went tight. He wanted to punch that fucking smile off the guy's face. Sure, he'd been just an idiot teenager when he'd betrayed Veronica's trust, but as far as Gabe was concerned, little assholes just grew up to be big assholes. Granted, there were exceptions. People changed. But it was telling that this bastard still thought Veronica might be interested in him. What an arrogant dick.