She’d never been anyone. Just an amorphous, undefined child. Who the hell was she to tell this woman what to do with her life?
Veronica closed the window and dragged the email into her Unanswered Letters folder. The letter behind it was still on the screen, yet another query stained with virtual tears over a cheating spouse. She got them every week. Some from men, some from women. Some were filled with nothing more than tortured suspicions. Some writers knew all the gritty details.
Maybe she should answer this one despite that she’d published another two months before. It was clearly a common problem. Veronica told herself she should be happy she’d never had a partner, because that meant she’d never been cheated on or tormented by the fear that she would be.
But when she thought of Gabe MacKenzie, she wasn’t sure she cared what he ever did with other women, as long as he did it with her, too.
The thought of Gabe broke through her haze of self-hatred. After all, if she’d stayed in New York or even found herself a boyfriend here in Wyoming, she’d never have kissed Gabe. And kissing Gabe had been...priceless.
She smiled stupidly at her useless hands. They might not have much to type today, but they’d been smart enough to touch Gabe’s chest. To explore him a little. She turned her phone over and pulled up her text messages. His was at the top. I can’t wait, it said.
He couldn’t wait. For their second date. An evening hike tonight.
She wasn’t quite sure what to think of that, a hiking date on a Saturday night. Her first impulse had been giddy joy that he wanted to do something she actually enjoyed. But now in the light of day it didn’t seem very...sexy. And she desperately wanted to be sexy for him, but she couldn’t wear a push-up bra or high heels on a hike. Then again, he did seem to like her legs, and they’d be exposed. Who the hell was she trying to impress with her not-quite-B-cup breasts, anyway?
And whether it was sexy or not, a hiking date would be her. The real her. Not the Veronica who’d gone on dates with stockbrokers and salesmen and middle-management bankers in New York. She’d faked her way through those dates just as she’d faked her way through everything. She’d gone to the same kinds of restaurants her dad liked instead of the homey, comforting dives she really loved. She’d gone to art shows instead of Broadway musicals, because corporate ladder–climbing twentysomething men couldn’t schmooze at the theater. And she’d worn the highest heels she could stand, along with the nicest secondhand outfits she’d been able to assemble.
Looking back, she had no idea what those men were supposed to have liked about her, anyway. The layers of falseness she’d painted over her less-than-adequate self?
But with Gabe...with Gabe she’d laid it all out on their second meeting. And he was still around. And he was taking her hiking.
The thought made her smile, but the smile vanished as soon as she looked back at her computer. Hot date or not, she still had no idea what to tell Torn.
She gave up on work and shut her laptop. The stupid column wasn’t due until Monday evening, anyway. Maybe she’d have a different perspective by then. Maybe she’d be thoroughly fucked and altogether debauched and she’d tell Torn to run after her dreams as fast as she could.
Her phone buzzed and she snatched it up, pulse already speeding. But it wasn’t Gabe; it was her father. That was a real heart-rate killer.
Charity auction Monday 8:00 p.m.
Oh, Christ, not another one. Ever since she’d returned to town, her dad had treated her like an extension of the family name, requiring her to make appearances, but this was his first request since ski season had ended. She didn’t know how to say no to him. She never had.
A second text appeared with the name of the gallery.
She checked her calendar in vain. There was nothing on it. Okay, she texted back. See you then.
That was a good enough reason to start getting ready for the hike. She showered quickly, then styled her hair and put on the bare minimum of makeup. Despite Gabe’s kind words, she wasn’t going barefaced when she could wear a little mascara and lip stain. She didn’t come by makeup skills naturally, but she was no idiot. Men could claim they liked the no-makeup look, but there was natural and then there was natural.
She grinned as she chose a pair of exercise shorts that covered only the top two inches of her thighs. If he liked her legs, he’d get her legs.
She didn’t need sunscreen, as they’d catch only the last ninety minutes of light, but that meant she couldn’t pick a cute tank top, either. She settled on a long-sleeved shirt that at least fit tightly across the chest. After packing a water bottle, a flashlight and a hoodie into a light backpack, she was ready.
He knocked precisely at six-thirty, which was a nice surprise. She hadn’t expected punctuality from a guy who was so laid-back. Cerebral thoughts about how considerate he was fled when she opened the door. He was wearing cargo shorts and a faded purple T-shirt and lots of lean muscle. Lots of it.
“Hi,” she said to his biceps. She looked up just in time to see his gaze sweep down her body, too.
“Ready?” he asked, eyebrow raised in a way that made his smile look wicked. He’d noticed her legs.
Yeah, she was so ready.
She locked up and led him down the street toward the hills. “Are you sure you’ve never hiked this? It’s pretty basic and crazy busy in the summer, but the views are great.”
“Never. When I’ve been in town before, all my hiking was heading in and out of climbing areas. I’m happy you know a trail we can hit with such a short amount of time. If we had to drive to a trailhead, the sun would be setting before we could start.”
“Or we could’ve just hiked over to the brewery,” she suggested.
“We can work our way around later.”
She felt him watching her and glanced over. “What?”
“You look pretty today, Dear Veronica.”
She didn’t even try to fight the blushing anymore. She was just so aware of him. And she was crushing on him so damn hard. “You look nice, too. In fact, no one should look that good in a T-shirt. It’s distracting.”
He brushed a hand over his chest as if unsure how to respond. The hair on his forearm glinted in the sunlight. She wanted to pet it. She managed not to say that out loud, but she thought it really, really hard.
They turned left onto a street that ended at the base of the foothills. They were on the trail and gaining elevation ten minutes after leaving her place.
“Since I’m a librarian,” he said from behind her, “you have to tell me your favorite books. It’s required. And if you don’t read, you’d better lie about it.”
“I read,” she said, noticing that he wasn’t even breathing hard. She kept her breath as even as she could. “A lot of nonfiction, actually. But my bachelor’s degree is in English. Maybe I’ve read more books than you have.”
He chuckled. “Your favorites?”
“I hate this question. How am I supposed to choose? To Kill a Mockingbird, obviously—everyone loves that. Anything by Margaret Atwood. I adore narrative nonfiction like In the Heart of the Sea. I deal with a lot of relationship issues in my work, so I love romance. I hope you’re not a book snob.”
“No way. I’ve read romance.”
She turned to shoot him a doubtful look. “Really?”
“I wouldn’t say it’s exactly my cup of tea, but I love some of the sci-fi romance. I mean, it’s sci-fi with good sex. What’s not to love?”
“Excellent point.” She started up the trail again. “What else do you read?”
“Everything. Horror, thrillers, science fiction, a little fantasy. I read the big award winners every year, of course. That’s part of the job.”
“And your favorites?” She heard him stop and turned around to see why.
He was standing with his hands on his hips,
looking back the way they’d come. “Dune. The Sheltering Sky. 1984. And Gone with the Wind.”
“Gone with the Wind?”
He turned to her with a smile that was only slightly chagrined. “It was the first really big book I read. I got it from the library when I was thirteen and had to renew it three times to finish it. I loved it like crazy. I haven’t reread it, though. I’m pretty sure it won’t live up to my memory. I’ve learned a lot since then about writing and storytelling, not to mention the brutality of actual history.”
“I know what you mean. I feel that way about Pride and Prejudice. I loved it so much the first time—I don’t want to change anything about the experience. What if it’s not as good?”
“Yeah,” he said, nodding, “that’s exactly it. But you’re probably safe with Pride and Prejudice.”
Conscious of the fact that she was just standing there, smiling at him, Veronica let her gaze drift to the view he’d been admiring a moment before. Jackson was already a couple hundred feet below them, spreading out toward the open space of the Elk Refuge beyond. The Tetons loomed above everything in the distance.
“Come on,” she said. “The view’s a lot better farther up.”
“It’s pretty nice from here.”
“Are you talking about my ass?” she teased, then realized immediately that she’d relaxed and said something weird. She barely knew this guy and now they had her ass hanging between them for the rest of the hike, both literally and figuratively.
She stopped abruptly and stammered, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Why?” he asked, his voice closer. “The view of your ass is fucking spectacular.”
She groaned and pressed a hand to her forehead. “Maybe it is, but I shouldn’t have said it.”
When he chuckled, she realized he was standing next to her now. She peeked between her fingers and grimaced. “Every time I let my guard down, I say the wrong things, Gabe. Every time.”
“I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about. We can have an hour-long conversation about your ass right now. It wouldn’t bother me in the least.”
“You’re just being nice,” she countered.
“I’m not sure you understand the male mind. Maybe you really are a terrible advice columnist.”
She laughed. He always managed to make her laugh. “You have a good point. Let’s just keep going, and hopefully, I won’t have the breath to say anything else.”
She didn’t have to wait long. They hit a portion of the trail that was steep enough for switchbacks and she was soon panting for oxygen. There wasn’t much of it at this altitude.
She was able to push through to the top, but she stopped to breathe once she hit more level ground. “You wouldn’t believe,” she rasped, “how hard this was...when I got here from New York.”
Gabe held up a hand and took a few deep breaths. “I just got here two weeks ago. I’m still—” he took another deep breath “—acclimating.”
“Oh, thank God.” She dropped onto a boulder with a flat top and dug her water bottle from her pack. “We’d better take a break, then.”
He joined her on the rock. At first she was distracted by the way his chest moved with each breath. It was strange to see him breathing hard and a little sweaty. Intimate and unexpected.
His knee brushed hers, and she tried to take in every detail of his muscled thigh in the quickest of glances. She liked the way it looked next to hers. He was tan and hairy next to her smooth leg. If they were already sleeping together, she’d put her hand on his knee and slide it up. She’d let her fingers edge under his shorts and tease him with a touch on the inside of his thigh. God. Would he get hard for her? Would he drag her hand higher and make her feel what she’d done to him?
She didn’t know. She didn’t know if sex could really be as good as she’d heard. Every time she’d messed around with a guy, she’d ended up disappointed. She’d been...removed. Unmoved. Completely clearheaded and disoriented by how much the guy seemed to be into it when she felt as though she were acting out a scene from tenth-grade health class.
Hell, she’d been more aroused by Gabe’s kiss than she had been by anything the last guy she’d dated had done, and that included the time he’d gone down on her. That had mostly consisted of her staring at the ceiling for two minutes before telling him she was fine. He’d popped up so quickly, it had been clear he’d been waiting to be excused.
But with Gabe...just looking at his thigh turned her on. She wasn’t even sure she cared that he might be throwing her a bone. She’d take that bone. She’d take it good.
Veronica glanced at her phone. “We’d better go. We’ve only got about thirty minutes before we should head down. Are you ready?”
“I think I can handle it.”
The trail widened as it looped through a high meadow, and Gabe could walk next to her now. The tufts of dried grass left after winter were pierced by green shoots, and a few tiny yellow flowers dusted the field. Almost all of the aspen were brightening up with green, though a few still shivered with fuzzy seeds.
“So you’ve never been up here for a climb?” she asked.
“No, there’s only one decent rock-climbing area close to town. The rock in this area is too brittle. Not ideal to have chunks falling out when you’re trying to anchor. All the decent climbing spots are a good hour out, and that doesn’t include the time you might need to hike in.”
“So it takes a full day?”
“Well, it depends how early you want to get up. During the summer, it pays to head out before dawn. The main rock faces are swarming with tourists.”
Veronica remembered hearing that complaint when she was growing up here. How difficult it was to get space for climbing or skiing or camping once the season started, but she’d never paid much attention.
At the top of the meadow, the trail cut into the aspen. Veronica heard the rushing of fast water ahead and smiled. “The creek is still high,” she said. “We’re lucky. This time last year it was a trickle.”
She hurried to get to the creek. It always looked like a postcard to her, the way the water danced and foamed over the jagged stones, dropping down in dozens of little waterfalls as it made its way down the mountain. The last of the sunlight glinted off still pools, and the shadows of shaking aspen leaves chased dark spots over the light.
“I love it here,” she said.
“It’s beautiful. But I think I should’ve brought rope.”
“Nah, the log is fine. Just don’t fall in.” She winked and jumped up onto the thick trunk of the dead pine tree that had been here for a decade.
The smooth surface of the wood was slightly damp, but earlier in the spring it had been icy in spots, so this was a piece of cake. She rushed the fifteen feet across and jumped off on the other side. She turned around to see if Gabe was following, only to find him landing on the ground inches from her.
“I’m going to take you climbing,” he said, smiling down at her.
“No, you’re not.”
“You weren’t the least bit nervous about that. You’re a natural.”
“You’re insane,” she said, laughing as she followed the trail along the creek. It got steep again, but this time she hardly noticed. This part of the hike was magical. The switchbacks wound through the trees, so it looked as if you were walking into dead ends of dark ponderosa pines, but then the trail would turn sharply and head into spring-green towers of aspens.
She turned to grin at Gabe behind her. “Isn’t it amazing? I mean, it’s not Yellowstone or Jenny Lake, but it’s right in our backyard.”
“It is amazing,” he said. “Thanks for showing me. It’s the perfect place to run after work. No one could be tense after this.”
“Is it a stressful job? I know Lauren hates preschool hour.”
“It’s not that. Kids are fine. It’s just a little weird to be brought in to change things, you know? Especially because I’m male, and all the female librarians here have more experience than I do, but I have to come in and say, ‘This is what you’re doing wrong.’ It’s shitty on the face of it, but it’s what I was hired to do.”
“I can put in a good word with Lauren, if you like.”
“It’s no problem. Lauren is great, actually. If I didn’t have her on my side, I’d probably beg you for help. I wouldn’t want to fuck with Lauren.”
“She is pretty badass,” Veronica agreed. Both of her girls’-night-out companions were really badass, actually. “Have you met Isabelle yet? She’s an artist. She comes into the library sometimes for reference materials when she’s working.”
“I don’t think so.”
“She’s good friends with Lauren. A brunette. She’s usually got paint in her hair?”
“No, I definitely haven’t met her.”
“Anyway, she was a federal fugitive for a while.”
“What?” Gabe snapped.
Veronica laughed. “That’s really all I can say. You’ll have to catch us out for girls’ night sometime. Buy her a drink and see if she’ll tell you the story.”
“Are you serious?”
She shrugged. “What, you don’t have any wanted fugitives as friends?”
“I probably do—I just don’t know it. But now I know you’re kick-ass enough to handle climbing.”
If her friends made her seem more interesting than she actually was, she didn’t mind, but no way could she imagine herself climbing any higher than a ladder. She wasn’t one of those girls. She’d known a lot of them. In high school and college, they’d been the amazing winter athletes, some of whom had moved here just to hone their skills for world championships. In New York, they’d been the girls unafraid to take on every challenge that the city offered. They’d been glamorous and magnetic and brave.
Taking the Heat Page 9