Taking the Heat

by Victoria Dahl

  “Hey.” He rubbed her arm. “It’s fine. If you introduce me to your dad, I’ll pretend we just met and I’m barely tolerating your presence. It’ll be fine.”

  She nodded and crossed her arms tightly. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Yes, I’m kidding. I’ll introduce myself and then ask his permission to take your virginity. How’s that?”

  Her laughter started out as a shocked squeal, but it soon descended into hilarity, complete with tears leaking from her eyes. “You,” she gasped, “really are the worst.”

  “I know. Sorry.” He had a strong urge to pull her into his arms and press a kiss to the top of her head, but he didn’t have that right. Not in public. Certainly not with her dad here.

  A waiter approached and Gabe snagged two glasses of champagne, exchanging Veronica’s nearly empty glass for a fresh one.

  “Should we mingle?” he asked.

  “Absolutely not,” she said. “Let’s look at the art instead.” She moved toward a wall of photographs. “This is a local photographer. She has her own place around the corner.”

  He thought the photo was black-and-white, but as he studied it, he realized it was only a late fall scene of bare aspen against a hill of rock and snow. There was a hint of gold in the crushed aspen leaves that littered the ground. “It feels a little sad,” he said.

  “It is. But I love it. She doesn’t take the most obvious photos. There are so many beautiful places here. I like that she finds the secrets, too.”

  He glanced at her, thinking that she was like that. Beautiful, with cool hidden secrets that others didn’t notice. “Are you going to bid on it?”

  “Ha! I’ll leave that to the billionaires. I have been eyeing one of the small prints in her shop, though. I might be able to afford one of those someday. Are you into art at all?”

  “I admire it, but I don’t know much.”

  “Me, too. I’m in awe of artists. I always wanted to be able to draw when I was young. I used to sketch all the time, but I never got any better. It’s funny that you can see something perfectly in your head, but somehow your hands can’t make it.”

  “Right, it’s like—”

  “Veronica,” a man boomed from behind them.

  Gabe swung around to see a distinguished-looking man in his sixties. He wore an expensive suit cut to make his paunch look a little less noticeable. The man took off his glasses to give them a quick polish, then looked everywhere except at Veronica and Gabe. “I’m leaving. I put in a bid on that mixed-media piece by the door. Text me if I’m outbid. I’ll have to make a donation if I don’t get it.”

  “Sure,” she said. “Dad, this is Gabe MacKenzie. Gabe, this is my father, Judge Anthony Chandler.”

  “Sir,” Gabe said, trying hard not to think about the virginity joke he’d made as he shook the man’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Nice to meet you,” her father said gruffly, barely glancing at Gabe. He left without another word to Veronica. Gabe watched him stop on his way toward the door to clap hands with another man with great enthusiasm before hugging the man’s wife. He wasn’t gruff with everyone, it seemed.

  “I hope that was painless,” she said.

  “Is he pissed at you?” Gabe asked.

  “Dad? No. Just eternally unimpressed.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry.”

  She shrugged. “He’s a political animal and I don’t have any power, and he must have decided you were too young and harmless to merit his charm. You’re not one of the silverbacks.”

  “Wow.”

  She winced. “Sorry. That was kind of a mood killer. I’m used to him, but I’m sorry if you felt snubbed. Let’s get back to the art.”

  He followed her back to the wall of photos. “And your mom? Are they divorced?”

  “My mom died when I was little.”

  “I’m sorry,” Gabe said, feeling as though he finally got her shyness. With a dad like that and no mom around...?

  “It was a long time ago,” Veronica said. “She had cancer most of my life, but I still remember all the time I spent with her. We used to watch movies in her bed. She was sick, but she never let me see her down. She used to bake cookies every Friday, and they’d still be warm when I got home from school.”

  “She sounds amazing.”

  “She was. That’s where New York started for me. With her. She’d been once with my father and she’d been enchanted. The skyscrapers, the taxis, the street performers, Times Square and Broadway. She wanted to take me to see Cats when I was old enough. But she got sick again. And that was that.”

  “Shit, Veronica.”

  “It’s okay. I got my fill of New York later. It all worked out.”

  He didn’t know what to say to that. It had clearly not worked out.

  She smiled. “Do you feel sorry for me now? I hope so, because I’m going to try to talk you into coming over later and I’ll use every advantage I have.”

  He nudged her with his elbow. “And you say I’m the worst?”

  “I know, right? What are your parents like?”

  Compared to her dad, they were saints. “My dad runs his own business. He’s always busy, always going, big personality. My mom is kick-ass. She mostly stayed home with us, but she ran our household like the commander of an army. She doesn’t take crap from anyone, including my dad.”

  “They sound awesome. How many brothers and sisters do you have?”

  They strolled around the corner, heading toward the front room of the gallery. “Two sisters. They’re both older.”

  “Ha! I should have known you were the baby. You’re so charming and cute.”

  “Cute, huh? I think I’ve been downgraded.”

  “Unfortunately, you’re all those things. Gorgeous, cute, sweet, sexy. Leave something for the other guys, Gabe.”

  He shook his head. “Is this another tactic to get into my pants? Blatant flattery?”

  “It is if it’s working,” she said with a grin. The grin snapped to a flat line and her eyes narrowed suddenly. Gabe followed her gaze to a man who was approaching them through the wide corridor that connected the two rooms.

  “Roni!” the guy called. “It’s been a long time.”

  “Hi, Dillon,” she said. “It’s Veronica now.” Gabe was shocked at how low her voice had gone. Not shy, really, but...cool.

  “Right. Veronica. I can’t believe I haven’t seen you since you got back to town. You look great. Really different.”

  Gabe watched as her cheeks went red. She looked away, her fingers tightening around the stem of the glass. “Thanks,” she muttered.

  “I read your column. Amazing stuff. New York was really good for you.”

  “Yeah,” she said. “It was a blast.”

  The guy cleared his throat and then turned to Gabe to introduce himself. Gabe shook his hand but kept his introduction brief. Veronica clearly didn’t like this guy.

  Dillon nodded as if someone had said something. “Anyway, how’s Jason? I haven’t seen him since he came to town on a ski trip a few years ago. I hear he’s in San Francisco now.”

  “I wouldn’t know,” Veronica said. She stared down at her glass again. Bit her lip. She shifted a little closer to Gabe, and he put his arm around her instinctively.

  “You don’t keep in touch?” Dillon asked, sounding surprised.

  “Why would I?” She looked up and stared the man straight in the face, her shoulder stiffening under Gabe’s hand. “He really wasn’t very nice to me, was he?”

  The guy frowned and lowered his voice. “Hey, that was just kid stuff,” he said. “High school. You know?”

  She nodded and seemed to lose whatever emotion had straightened her spine. She shifted toward Gabe again. He pulled her to his side and squeezed her shoul
der. He wanted to ask what was wrong, but not here. Not in front of this guy. Dillon seemed harmless enough, but Gabe had to fight the sudden urge to punch him in the face for no reason.

  “Yeah,” she finally agreed. “It was a long time ago. Have a good night, Dillon.”

  “You, too. Nice to see you again. You look great.”

  Dillon nodded a goodbye to Gabe and moved back to the group he’d been standing with before. He said something to his date and the woman glanced over at Veronica in surprise.

  “Are you okay?” Gabe murmured.

  “I’m fine,” she said, but she didn’t shift away from him and he could feel the tightness of her body.

  “Let’s go this way,” he said, turning her around to head back the way they’d come. He guided them toward a far corner of the temporary bar. When they got there, he took her hand.

  “Hey, what’s going on? Who was that guy?”

  “No one,” she said. “Someone I went to school with.”

  “Who’s Jason? An ex-boyfriend?”

  She shook her head, then drained her champagne glass. Gabe took the empty glass from her and set it on the bar, but he kept her hand in his.

  “He was my stepbrother,” she finally said.

  “I didn’t realize you had siblings.”

  “I don’t. My dad remarried when I was fifteen. Only for a few years, though. It didn’t work out. Jackson wasn’t good enough for them. She left my dad three years later and moved back to LA.”

  “Ah. So I take it you didn’t get along with your stepbrother?”

  “No. He was a spoiled, entitled asshole. And Dillon was his best friend, so...not someone I want to hang out with.” She shook her head and smiled. “Do you want to go? Let’s just get out of here.”

  “I thought your dad wanted you to watch the bids.”

  She waved her hand. “He doesn’t give a shit about art. He just likes showing off. Let’s go.”

  “Where to?”

  She wrapped her fingers more securely in his and pulled him toward the front with a smile. “You could walk me home, or I could walk you home. I’m not drunk tonight, Gabe.”

  He followed her outside and they turned toward their neighborhood.

  God, he wanted it. Wanted to touch her again, taste her again, make her come. And this time he wanted deep inside her. He knew he could make it good for her. But maybe... “We should wait. Just a little longer. I want—”

  “Gabe.” She tugged him to a stop. “I’m not a teenager. I know what I want. Do you want it, too?”

  She’d been nervous at the party. Uncomfortable. But she wasn’t nervous now. She looked up at him with challenge in her eyes. He backed her up until they were shadowed from the street lamps under a store awning. He pressed her back to the brick wall, but her expression didn’t change. She wanted him. She was daring him.

  He dipped his head to kiss her neck, and just that touch made her moan. “You never told me everything, Veronica.”

  “I did,” she whispered.

  “No—” he pressed another kiss to her throat, then brushed his lips over her ear “—you didn’t. I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to be that guy who just fumbles around and hopes I’ve got it right.”

  She chuckled and wrapped her arms around his neck. “As if you’d ever be that guy.”

  He smiled at the compliment. “Tell me,” he urged. He wanted to know, but he also liked her secrets. He liked the honesty of them and the glimpses of her that no one else saw.

  She finally nodded. “You won’t hurt me, Gabe. I... I’ve done things to myself. With my vibrator.” Her gaze dropped for a moment, and his heart dropped right along with it. God, he could picture her doing that. Doing to herself what no one else had done for her.

  “You won’t hurt me,” she repeated, her gaze slowly rising to meet his eyes again. “You don’t have to be careful. I just really, really want to be fucked, Gabe. I want you to do that for me.”

  Her words pushed inside him and squeezed out any reason. “Okay,” he whispered.

  “My place?” she asked, tugging him back out to the street to make clear that she wasn’t really asking.

  “Hey, what’s the rush?” he teased. “We could hang out at the party a little longer. Catch up with Dillon.”

  “You’re very funny. Shouldn’t you be too turned on to joke?”

  “I’m trying to take the edge off. It’s not easy to walk like this.”

  Her laughter rang out in the night, a delighted sound that made him laugh, too, despite the ache in his cock.

  “Good,” she said. “I’m glad I’ve made it difficult. But we’d better not go back to the party. It could be awkward. I made out with Dillon once, after all. Does that make you jealous?”

  He followed her across the next intersection. “Do you want it to?”

  “Yes! No one’s ever been jealous over me.”

  “Then I can’t stand the thought of that guy’s hands on you. I want to knock him out. Then I want to touch you until you forget all about him.”

  She grinned. “All right, but it might take a lot of touching. He’s a big real-estate guy now. Really rich. A great catch.”

  He caught her at the corner and leaned down to growl into her ear. “I’ll fuck you until you can’t remember that guy’s name.”

  “Oh, God,” she whispered. “I forgot it already.”

  “Good. Let’s get you fucked, Dear Veronica.”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “Let’s.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  IT DIDN’T GO SMOOTHLY, of course. It wasn’t as if Veronica’s terrible streak of bad sexual luck could be broken by one glorious man. Before she’d taken two steps toward her official deflowering, her phone buzzed. She winced, offered a quick apology to Gabe and read the text from her father.

  Got a text from Dillon Tettering. Says he just spoke to you. Butter him up, will you? I’m playing hardball on a new investment.

  Typical. I barely know him, she sent back.

  So get to know him. And tell me if he says anything about Blue Sky.

  Sure, she answered, then tucked her phone away without even a twinge of guilt. She cared as little about her dad’s investments as he did about her life.

  “Sorry,” she said to Gabe. “My dad.”

  “Better now than later,” he said, and delight bubbled up inside her again.

  They had to stop at the next intersection for a fire truck. It rumbled past in a cloud of exhaust on its way back to the station. One of the men waved to Gabe, and Veronica felt immediately guilty for the hand she’d wrapped around his arm. This was a small town, after all.

  But Gabe didn’t flinch away. He just raised a hand and they walked on as if nothing had happened. Her phone buzzed again, but she ignored it. She couldn’t handle her dad in her head when she was trying her best to get laid.

  “Do you want to go climbing this weekend?” Gabe asked once they’d reached a quieter street.

  “What? No!”

  He looked down at her and ignored the way she shook her head. “I saw the note on your fridge. ‘Try new things.’”

  She felt a brief pang of mortification that he’d seen her stupid notes, but she shoved it aside. “I’m trying a lot of new things, in case you haven’t noticed. I’ll climb you. Isn’t that enough bravery for now?”

  “Aw, come on. That’ll be easy.”

  “Not that easy. I’ve seen your cock.” Her face flamed at her own words, but she loved saying them, and she loved his pleased grin.

  “More flattery, Veronica?”

  “I’m just trying to close this deal,” she said.

  “All right. Then say you’ll come climbing with me. Nothing too hard. You can trust me. I’ll keep you safe.”

 
The strange thing was that she did trust him. She had from nearly the first moment she’d met him. He’d been talking only about climbing, but there was something honest about Gabe. Something safe.

  She liked to think that her ability to be herself with him was because she was getting older and stronger, but she couldn’t imagine being this honest with another man. She knew Gabe would take care of her in bed. She knew he wouldn’t tell anyone her secrets. She knew she was seeing the real him when they were together.

  She felt like herself with him, the person she’d always hoped was somewhere inside her.

  “Why do you want me to climb with you?” she asked, genuinely curious, even if she wasn’t tempted.

  “I think you’ll like it. It’s quiet. Peaceful.”

  “Peaceful,” she muttered. Maybe they had different meanings for the word.

  “And to be honest—” he sneaked a look at her and she nudged his side to get him to continue “—I like teaching you things.”

  Now she was the one sneaking a look at him. She watched him, but he kept his face straight ahead, revealing nothing. “Are you talking about sex?”

  He coughed a little as if he was clearing his throat. “Only if that’s not weird.”

  She didn’t know if it was weird or not, but she felt a hard shock of arousal at the thought. He’d whispered such wicked things to her. He’d guided her so carefully. Oh, God, just the thought turned her on so much.

  “I liked that,” she admitted, trying to get her voice above a whisper and failing.

  “Jesus, you turn me on,” he said quietly.

  It all felt impossible to her. Wonderful and impossible. He didn’t care if she was awkward. He laughed when she was weird. And his body made her mouth water. It was too good to be true and she didn’t give a damn.

  She slid her hand down his muscled forearm and wrapped her fingers into his. “Maybe,” she said as they walked down her quiet street.

  “Maybe what?” he asked.

  “Maybe I’ll let you teach me how to climb.”