Her mind spun. She pulled her gaze off his pleading brown eyes and looked around. Several of the women in the audience nodded at her. She thought she might faint. She thought she should be mortified. But all she felt was a terrible, rushing hope. Her head spun with it. “All right,” she finally answered. “She’d be willing to listen.”
Applause broke out and then spread to cheers of encouragement. She shook her head. “But not until after the show. Go sit down.”
Gabe grinned and waved good-naturedly at the howls of laughter. Several people patted him on the back as he made his way toward Benton’s table. Naomi was there, too. Had Gabe picked up his whole family and brought them here?
Head buzzing with fear and joy and that stupid hope, Veronica quieted the crowd and forced herself to read two more letters before she admitted defeat and gave up. “Okay, readers, thanks for another great night. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to follow up on one of tonight’s questions.”
“You make him pay, girl!” a woman called as Veronica passed her table. Veronica gave her a thumbs-up.
“He’s too cute to give up on!” someone else added. Veronica grinned and shook her head and wondered if she should kill Gabe. Not until after she hugged him, though. And then shook him. And then kissed him and asked what the hell he was up to.
She escaped to the office, and suddenly he was there in the doorway. Right there.
His hands were in the pockets of his jeans, his neck slightly bent, but he watched her, his eyebrows rising in question.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi.” She didn’t know what to say. She’d meant never to see him again, but he looked so sweet and sad, and he was here, and she desperately wanted to throw herself into his arms. But she didn’t move. She couldn’t. “What are you doing here?”
She’d been strong when she’d said goodbye in New York. She couldn’t do that again. His face had been so stiff with hurt and anger, and she’d hated it. She liked him too much. And he was here.
God. He was here.
His wide shoulders rose as he took a deep breath. “I took your advice.”
“What advice?”
“I told my dad he was being a stubborn ass.”
“What?” she gasped.
“Okay, I didn’t say it like that. Well, maybe I did at one point when it got a little heated. The important thing is I told him the truth.”
“What truth?” she breathed, as the hope rushed faster through her veins.
“The truth that I was giving up my life for his. The truth that his kids would rather have him than a hundred restaurants. And the truth that he needed to step up and sell the business like a responsible adult.”
Her heart pounded hard. She pressed a hand to it. “He... You said that?”
“That and more. You were right. About everything. The thing is, it was my fault. I told him that, too. Naomi and Claire were smart enough—and honest enough—to say no. But I wanted to take care of it for him. The same way he’d always taken care of stuff for me. I wanted to give him his dream so I never even told him the truth about mine.”
“But...” She felt dizzy and surprisingly angry. Why was he doing this to her when she’d done her best to give him up? She’d been strong. Done the right thing. She shook her head. “What did he say?”
Gabe smiled. “I won’t repeat most of it. He was shocked and fighting for the future he’d always planned. I let him yell. I deserved it. But the truth is...he’s like me. He wants me to be happy, and he saw how happy I was when I wasn’t thinking about MacKenzie’s. He saw how happy I was with you. He saw that, and he wants that for me.”
Veronica sat down hard on the desk. “I don’t understand. What does this mean?”
“It means I’ve moved back to Jackson. You were right. I can’t live in New York. I’m not myself there. I’m lucky I put off resigning at the library. I took it as family leave. Hopefully, Jean-Marie will have me back.” He paused. “And I’m hoping you will, too.”
She shook her head and watched him frown.
“Just a small chance?” he pressed. “A couple of dates?”
She looked away.
“Do you want me to beg? I will.”
“No.”
Gabe ducked down to catch her eye. “You could add me to your list. Make me a project. Number six—give a stupid boy one more shot?”
“No, Gabe!” she snapped. “This isn’t funny. I can’t... I can’t be the girl who made your dad go back to a stressful job! I’m not coming between you and your family. I would never ever do that!”
The worry fell from his face. “That’s not who you’ll be. You’ll be the girl who challenged me to be myself. My honest self. And my dad... I can’t make his decisions for him. I have to accept that.”
“So you’re just going to let him take over again? Work himself to death? I don’t believe you. You’ll never be okay with that.”
“No. That’s not how it’s going to be. We all sat down together. All five of us. My sisters felt the same way I did. And my mom cried. She wants to travel. She wants a living, healthy husband. This time, Dad didn’t blow her off. Maybe the heart attack scared him or maybe he just needed to hear the truth from all of us at once. I don’t know why, but in the end, he agreed to bring on a partner.”
“Really?”
“Yes. He doesn’t want to give up control. I get that. It’s our family name. But he agreed to look for someone to take over a minority stake. He’ll have veto power over decisions, but he won’t have to be there day to day.”
“Really?” she repeated.
“Really. He still thinks one of us will want the business one day, and that’s fine. You never know. And if that makes it easier for him to give up some control, then it’s a good thing.”
“But...”
He grinned at her, his eyebrows raised in question, and that sweet smile melted her heart.
“No!” she said. “No, I already gave you up. I already did that and I was strong and it hurt so much and I can’t do this again!”
“But you don’t have to give me up again. I’m here.”
“That’s not what I meant.” She held strong in the face of his hopeful brown eyes. She could do it. He was practically a stranger without his beard. Those dimples meant nothing to her.
“Okay,” he finally said. “I understand. But if you change your mind, if you get lonely, I’ll just be a block away,” he teased, trying a different tack. “Day or night. Text or call and I’ll be at your door in—”
“Shut up,” she said. She crossed her arms tightly and his gaze dropped to her breasts.
He stopped talking and waited.
She glared. “We both know I won’t be able to resist.”
His eyes rose to meet hers. He smiled. “Yeah?”
“You know how beautiful you are, you bastard.”
His smile spread to a grin. “Is that all you care about? My good looks?”
She raised one shoulder. “That and your cunnilingus skills. I guess I’ll give you another shot.”
He stepped closer. His hands settled on her arms. When he pulled her toward him, she let him. Then his hand was cradling her cheek as he kissed her.
“Jesus, Veronica,” he breathed. “You had me scared there for a minute.”
She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him down for a longer kiss. When he finally lifted his head, she stared up at him. “Are you really here?” she asked, and tears were suddenly falling down her cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” he said. He kicked the door shut behind him and then they didn’t say anything for a long while. She kissed him, tasted him, touched the hard, wide muscles of his shoulders. She’d missed him so much. It felt as though it had been weeks instead of days. How had she gotten so accustomed to him so quickly?
When they emerged from the office five minutes later, Veronica was sure she’d feel embarrassed. She didn’t like to be the center of attention, after all, and she wasn’t exactly used to people knowing about her personal life, if only because she’d rarely had one.
But the brief round of applause that greeted them felt friendly. She blushed, but she held tight to Gabe’s hand as they worked their way over to Benton’s table so Veronica could give Naomi a hug.
“Thank you for giving him another chance,” Naomi said as she squeezed Veronica tight. “Men are idiots sometimes. Most of the time.”
“I know,” Veronica said. She noticed that when Gabe’s sister sat back down, her thigh was pressed tightly to Benton’s leg, and his hand settled over her knee.
Interesting, but Veronica was too wired to think about catching up right now. That could happen later. Right now all she cared about was being alone with Gabe.
Gabe slapped Benton’s back. “Thanks for delivering my note. We’re heading over to Veronica’s place to talk.”
Naomi arched an eyebrow. “I won’t wait up.”
“I didn’t think you would,” he said, his gaze going pointedly toward Benton’s hand. Naomi put her hand over Benton’s and laced their fingers together.
Gabe nodded and turned Veronica toward the door.
“Are they an item?” Veronica whispered as they walked away.
“Maybe. They’ve been talking a lot over the past few weeks. They had a thing a few years ago, and I guess the spark hasn’t died.”
“That’s nice.”
He shrugged. “I suppose. Benton’s a bit of a player, but when I pointed that out to Naomi she reminded me that she hasn’t exactly been a wallflower. She’ll give him a run for his money.”
“They’re cute together.”
He shot her a smile. “True. And it won’t be hard for me to keep an eye on my best friend.”
“But who’s going to watch your sister?”
“Good question. Maybe it’s Benton’s heart I should be worried about.”
The night was quiet and warm, but thunder rumbled beyond the mountains. As they walked, Gabe looked over the town square, which was still bustling with people. “It’s starting to get busy around here. Feels like I’ve been gone a long time.”
She nodded. It had felt like months.
He breathed in deeply as they drew closer to her apartment. “God, it smells good. I can’t believe I was going to give this up.”
Now that she wasn’t kissing him, it was a little easier to think, to consider what he’d said and what he’d done. She turned it over in her head, trying to figure out if she was making a mistake. He’d betrayed her, yes, but his heart had been in the right place. He’d wanted to do the right thing for his family, even though it was wrong to keep the truth from her. Still, she hesitated at her door.
“Gabe, this is only a chance. I’m not promising anything. It’ll take me a while to trust you again.”
“I know,” he said.
“How will I know when you’re telling me something I want to hear and when you’re being truthful?”
“I’ll be honest to a fault.”
She eyed him doubtfully.
“I’m serious. Like, I’ll tell you right now that I’ll deny being your boyfriend if it will save me getting beat up by Jake Davis.”
She laughed and let him bend down to kiss her before she shoved him away and unlocked the door.
“And,” he continued as he followed her inside, “I’m really not a fan of your dad. Sorry. That’s just the truth.”
“Oh, that’s a shock.”
“Lastly—and this is tough to say...”
“Yes?” she pressed, though the word was a little breathless because she’d just realized they were now alone in her apartment. And they hadn’t really come here to talk.
“The truth is,” he said, his breath warm against her neck as he slipped up behind her, “I think your bedroom skills need a little work.”
“What?” she cried.
“I know. It’s really one of the main reasons I came back to Jackson.” His fingertips whispered down her bare arms and Veronica shivered. “It wasn’t fair to abandon you in the middle of our lessons. I was thinking I could give you a few more pointers. Try it out again. See how it goes.”
She laughed in scandalized delight. “You really are the worst, Gabe MacKenzie.”
“Really? Then maybe I’m the one who needs a few pointers. In fact, we could start right now. If you’re willing to give me another shot.” Yes, she was willing to give him another shot. She’d risk her heart for this man.
Standing behind her, he slid his arms around her waist and unbuttoned her jeans. Veronica choked on her own laugh. “I guess we could...try it again.”
A few minutes later, she was deadly serious and gasping out instructions. Gabe was an incredibly quick learner. And she was the happiest teacher in the world. The truth was she trusted him with everything. Her body, her heart, her happiness. She didn’t need time.
She decided right then and there to add a new note to the collection on her fridge.
#6—Take a chance on loving Gabe MacKenzie with all your heart.
Maybe her best advice yet.
* * * * *
Read on for an extract from FLIRTING WITH DISASTER by Victoria Dahl.
ISABELLE WEST EDGED her SUV up the steep driveway and winced as she heard a grocery bag tip over. She tried to identify the dull rolling sound that followed. Probably the cantaloupe. But maybe just a can of soup. It’d be a little surprise for her when she opened the hatch and saw what sprang out and tumbled through the snow toward the trees.
She was getting tired of that particular surprise and promised herself she’d order the cargo net as soon as she got inside. She’d been meaning to do it for...maybe two years now. But today she’d remember. She was trying to teach herself to be proactive. Or at least to manage the small things that every other adult seemed to have no problem with.
As she rounded the last curve of the drive and spied her little cabin, she wrinkled her nose. Not because of the cabin. She loved that. It was perfect for her in every way with its dark log walls and big windows and front porch. What made her wince was the sight of the manual garage door past the haze of snow sifting from the sky, a reminder that she’d also been meaning to call about getting a garage-door opener installed. That one had been on her mental to-do list for at least four years. Definitely not five.
“I’ll do that, too,” she said to herself as she pulled close to the garage door and tugged up the hood of her coat. “As a matter of fact...” She dug her phone from her pocket and held down the button. “Phone, remind me to order a cargo net and call a garage guy.”
The phone beeped and said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.”
Gritting her teeth, Isabelle hit the button again. “Remind me to buy a cargo net and call the garage guy.”
“I’m sorry, did you need me to find a mechanic?”
“Fuck you,” Isabelle growled. She ducked out of her car, thankful that the giant, wet flakes of this morning had given way to the dry Wyoming snow she was more used to. The snow sounded like sand as it bounced off her jacket and slid to the ground.
She wrenched up the garage door and got back to her car without getting wet at all. But she couldn’t say the same about her cantaloupe. As soon as she opened the gate of her SUV, it rolled past her outstretched hand and straight into a snowbank.
“Fuck you, too,” she said to the cantaloupe, then felt immediately guilty. It only took her a minute to rescue the melon and dust off as much snow as she could. It hadn’t really caused that much trouble. It took a lot more time to repack the bag that had tipped over and haul it inside.
Next time, she’d remember t
o put the boxes of art supplies she’d picked up from the post office into the back; then she’d have room to store the groceries on the floor of her backseat, where they’d be less likely to—
“Art supplies!” she gasped, and rushed back out to the truck to haul in the boxes of goodies.
She grinned as she set the first box on the kitchen table and slit the tape to reveal the treasures inside. She’d been out of yellow ochre for three days now, and even though she hadn’t needed it, the lack had hovered at the back of her mind like a foreshadowing of tragedy to come. She snatched up the tube and breathed a sigh of relief. Disaster averted. She was whole again.
After unpacking the box and carefully laying out each precious item on the kitchen table, she retrieved the other two boxes from the backseat and went through the same routine. She beamed at the sight of the bounty spread over the table. Seven more tubes of color, a new studio light to get her through the winter, a dozen prestretched canvases and her favorite brush conditioner that smelled like something close to sandalwood. It made the task of looking after her brushes almost soothing. Discovering it last year had been a treat.
Satisfied with her unveiling of the goods, she made five trips to the room she used as her studio, shelving the paints she didn’t need yet and getting the new lamp set up at her current workstation. She played with the LED settings for a while, still dubious about the idea that she could get good color temperatures, but the settings seemed sufficient. Nice, even.
“Hmm.” Isabelle crossed her arms and stared at the unfinished painting, trying to decide if the daylight setting was pure enough. There weren’t new technological advancements in the world of oil painting very often, so she’d be happy if she could get excited about this one. Still, she’d have to work under the light for a couple of hours and see how it felt.
During the summer, she wouldn’t need it much at all. This room was meant to be the great room of the cabin, and windows climbed up the two-story wall to the peak of the roof. The windows faced south, and during the summer, she had good light here for nearly twelve hours of every day. But during the winter, there were only a few decent hours of sunlight, and that was assuming the sky was clear.
Taking the Heat Page 31
