Taking the Heat

by Victoria Dahl

  “He’ll see it. He wrote to you because he wanted help.”

  “Do you think so?” she whispered.

  He touched her face, but she didn’t look up at him. “I told you about yesterday. My first rescue situation.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I was fine until I got down there and saw how scared those people were. In pain and freezing and terrified. That was when it hit me that I could really help them, and that if I screwed up, I’d make everything so much worse.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know how you do that.”

  He shrugged. “It was scary, but it was what I was there for. It’s what you’re there for, too. And I think what you deal with is a hell of a lot more frightening than a broken ankle. You’re scared because you’re taking it seriously and you care.”

  She laughed. “Is that why I’m scared? I thought it was because I was scared of everything.”

  “You do a good job of hiding it.”

  “Yeah,” she breathed. “I’m good at that.”

  “You’re good at a lot of things,” he said, not meaning it as a flirtation, but she looked up at him with a wicked smile and his mind immediately turned toward the shower that was only a few dozen feet away.

  “I’m a quick learner,” she promised.

  “Then let’s get your ass inside.”

  She grabbed one of the bags and held out a hand. “Lead the way.” He did.

  Some part of his brain was aware that the knob turned too easily under his key, but he was too distracted by Veronica’s naughty smile to be alarmed. The shower was only a dozen feet away now, and—

  The door swung open. Someone rushed at him. And suddenly the wrong woman was in his arms.

  “Gabe!” she shrieked, jumping up and hitting him with her full weight as she wrapped her arms and legs around him. He stumbled back under the assault, twisting to avoid bodychecking Veronica. His assailant’s bright red hair swung into his eyes.

  “Naomi?” he gasped.

  “Surprise!” she yelled as another woman stepped out of his apartment and waved.

  His sister was here. And she’d brought a friend.

  Oh, shit. His gaze slid to Veronica’s round eyes and slack jaw.

  He shook his head, but there was no stopping this now. His family had dropped straight into Veronica’s lap. And the truth couldn’t be far behind.

  * * *

  THE MOST GORGEOUS WOMAN in the entire world was wrapped around Gabe’s body and clinging like a vine. Or maybe the second woman standing in his doorway was the most gorgeous woman in the world. Definitely one of them was and both were focused on Gabe.

  The woman draped around Gabe tossed her head and laughed, her long red hair swinging back as if she was in a shampoo commercial. “Are you surprised?” she shrieked.

  Yes. Veronica was surprised. And starting to feel a little sick.

  Gabe wasn’t her boyfriend. She knew that. But she’d kind of been pretending that he would be.

  Still, he was free to date other women at this point. Just...just not someone so utterly stunning.

  The laughing redhead was disentangling herself from Gabe now as he gasped out, “Naomi?” one more time.

  God, she even had a beautiful name. And as she put her feet down and stood straight, the beauty just kept going. In her heels, she was as tall as Gabe, maybe even taller. She wore red pumps and the tightest jeans Veronica had ever seen, which only made her impossibly long legs longer.

  “What are you doing here?” Gabe asked, his eyes darting from Veronica to Naomi and back again. “You said maybe next week.”

  “I missed you and I wanted to surprise you. Surprise!”

  Yes, Veronica was definitely feeling sick now. This girl had missed Gabe. He’d just moved here. She was his ex from Cincinnati. Or not his ex. Veronica backed up a step. She was his girlfriend from Cincinnati.

  “Oh, my God,” Naomi groaned, “You’re not even happy to see me. It’s been nine months!”

  His girlfriend from somewhere else.

  “I am happy to see you—I just...” His gaze focused on Veronica again, and Naomi’s eyes followed the path.

  “Well, hello,” she said, looping her arm through Gabe’s and swinging him around to face Veronica. They looked like a team. A couple. “Who’s this?” she asked with a smile.

  Veronica took another step back.

  Gabe shook his head. “This is Veronica,” he answered. “Veronica, this is my sister Naomi. Apparently, she came to surprise me.”

  Veronica had already taken another step back before she registered his words. “Your what?” she murmured, but her confusion was interrupted by the giant beautiful creature rushing forward to wrap Veronica in a hug. “Are you Gabe’s girlfriend?” she cooed.

  “No! I mean...no, I...”

  “Naomi, leave her alone,” Gabe said. “And tell me what the hell you’re doing here.”

  “You said I could come.” She let Veronica go and shrugged at her brother, though she kept one slender arm slung around Veronica’s shoulder.

  Gabe ran a hand through his wind-mussed hair, making it stick up in even stranger directions. “I assumed you would let me know in advance. You know, in case I had plans.”

  Naomi stuck out her bottom lip. “Well, jeez. We can go stay at a hotel if you want.”

  At the word we, Gabe looked toward the doorway. “Hello, Monique.”

  Monique waved her fingers and smiled as if she showed up on people’s doorsteps every day and it had never been a problem before. It probably hadn’t. Who would turn her away? She was just as tall as Gabe’s sister and just as stunning. Her brown skin glowed with perfect health. Her black hair stood out in wild twists, and while a style like that would’ve made Veronica look like a madwoman, it somehow lent Monique’s face a delicate perfection.

  And Gabe knew her name.

  Veronica stopped herself from backing all the way to the sidewalk so she could bolt toward home, but it was a close call. She was dressed in sweaty hiking clothes, and her face felt greasy with sunscreen. She couldn’t imagine what her hair looked like, since she’d had to clip it back with three barrettes to keep it out of her face for the climb. She felt ugly, dirty and about four feet tall next to these elegant women. The perfect height to look up Monique’s very short white dress.

  “Maybe we should—” Gabe started, but he stopped speaking when Naomi swept Veronica closer and directed her into Gabe’s apartment.

  “How did you get into my place?” he sputtered, as if he’d just recognized that there’d been a little breaking and entering.

  “Oh, please.” Naomi waved a hand. “You always keep a spare key nearby. I found it above the patio door frame. Not very smart, little brother.”

  “Believe me,” he muttered, “it won’t happen again.”

  Naomi finally let Veronica go, and Veronica found herself rocking a little unsteadily without the support.

  “Would you like a beer?” Gabe’s sister asked, already breezing toward the kitchen, her heels clicking against the wood floors of his apartment.

  Veronica nodded, then looked questioningly at Gabe. He looked a little horrified, but not nearly as shocked as Veronica was. I’m sorry, he mouthed as Veronica felt a cold bottle pressed into her hand. She murmured a thank-you and then sucked down half of the ice-cold beer.

  “How long are you staying?” he asked.

  “Just a few days. I’ve got a shoot uptown next week. I’m sorry, Gabe, but I couldn’t handle Dad anymore. I had to get out of there. He brought home burgers every night and then acted hurt when I wouldn’t eat. I told him I’m showing fall collections all month and I can’t afford not to fit into the damn clothes. All he wanted to do was talk about the next MacKenzie’s location. It was like he was trying to lure me
to the dark side with grease. Mom sent cookies, by the way.” She waved toward the kitchen, and the motion of her hand sent Veronica’s head spinning.

  Uptown. Fall collection. Showings.

  No.

  She looked at Naomi again, then Monique, who’d plopped down onto the couch to scroll through her phone.

  They were tall and perfect and thin. They couldn’t eat burgers. They had to fit into clothes.

  Oh, my God.

  “Can you excuse us for a moment?” she heard Gabe say. He took her elbow and led her toward the open door of his bedroom.

  “Sure,” Naomi called. “You two have fun.”

  Veronica heard him close the door behind her. She shook her head, trying to clear the cobwebs that had draped over her brain. “They’re models,” she murmured.

  “I’m so, so sorry, Veronica. You have to believe me.” He pulled her into his arms and tucked her head under his chin.

  “Your sister is a fashion model.”

  “Yes,” he said.

  “In New York.”

  “Sometimes.”

  Veronica’s mind was working again and it kept turning things over and finding new details that she did not want to see. “MacKenzie’s,” she whispered.

  Gabe didn’t have a response for that. She felt his chest rise beneath her as he inhaled.

  She put her hand up and pushed him back until he let her go. “MacKenzie’s,” she repeated. “As in the famous New York burger place?”

  He winced and let out a long breath before he answered. “Yeah.”

  “You said you lived in New York when you were a kid.”

  His head dipped in a careful nod. “I did. I left when I was eighteen. My family is still there, but I haven’t lived there in thirteen years.”

  “Oh.” The cold creeping up her fingers reminded her she was still holding the beer and she downed the rest of it. She wasn’t quite sure why she felt so hurt. She couldn’t get mad at him for where he was from, could she? But she was mad. She’d trusted him. Trusted that she could be awkward and honest and uncertain with him, because his world hadn’t been filled with girls like the ones who were lounging on his couch right now. Girls who were everything Veronica had never been. “I didn’t know,” she finally managed to say.

  “That’s not my life,” he said, and she could hear the pleading in those words.

  “But...” She frowned. “Did you keep that from me on purpose? When I talked about the city, you never said anything about your parents living there. You didn’t say anything about MacKenzie’s. I mean, that’s kind of big. Everybody goes there. I’ve been there!”

  He paced over to the window of his bedroom and then back. She was in his bedroom for the first time and she wasn’t even sure she should bother looking around. She might never be here again.

  “Okay,” he started. “When we met, I played it down on purpose, because Lauren introduced us like we had Manhattan in common. I didn’t want to encourage it. I didn’t want to date a girl from Manhattan.”

  She nodded. He’d already told her most of that.

  “And then... I don’t know. We haven’t talked much about our families yet.”

  “We talked about the city,” she cut in.

  He tipped his head in acknowledgment. “I’m sorry. It was wrong not to be more up-front about it. It seemed like you’d think of me as one of those guys you dated in New York. And you didn’t like any of those guys.”

  She hugged her arms tight together and tried to figure out what she felt. It wasn’t his fault that she’d revealed so much of herself right from the start. It wasn’t as if he’d demanded to know everything about her and then he’d refused to say anything about himself. “Why did you leave?” she asked. The question so many people had asked her. The thing she’d lied about a hundred times.

  “Because it wasn’t the right place for me. I don’t hate it. I could imagine living there. It’s where I grew up and almost everyone I love is there. But if I had a choice, I’d choose this.”

  That was what really mattered, wasn’t it? He couldn’t help where he was from. Hell, there wasn’t even anything wrong with New York; it just intimidated her, and she didn’t want to be intimidated by Gabe.

  “Your sister is a New York model,” she said flatly.

  “She’s really nice, though.”

  Yes, Veronica could see that. “Tell me that you never dated Monique.”

  “Never,” he said, then added, “ever,” with a hopeful smile.

  “Did you date any of her other model friends?” Veronica hated the sullenness in her voice, but that was how she felt. Sullen. It was childish, but true.

  He cleared his throat. “I dated one of her friends when I was eighteen. For maybe two weeks.”

  If Gabe hadn’t been watching, she would have lifted her fists to the sky and shaken them, cursing God or the moon or the Fates.

  “Other than that,” he continued, “I’ve never shared the same interests with Naomi’s friends. Or Naomi. But I love her to death.”

  Right. That beautiful, intimidating creature was his sister.

  Veronica felt suddenly guilty. She was sure that Naomi and her friends were perfectly lovely. Veronica just...kind of didn’t want them to be lovely. She wanted them to be awful. Which made her feel even worse.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “This isn’t the way I would’ve explained, obviously. I was thinking today that I needed to tell you about my family. I wasn’t going to keep it from you forever. I just told myself that we’d barely started dating, so it was okay.”

  She nodded. “It is okay. I understand. We hardly know each other.”

  “I wouldn’t say that.”

  She smiled despite her tension. “I should go.”

  “No, don’t go. Hang out with us.”

  “Gabe, I’m sweaty and dirty and bruised and I’m wearing this.” She swept a hand up and down her body. “I’m leaving.”

  “Fuck, this is not how I wanted this day to end. Not even close.”

  “Me, neither.” She looked at his bed and wanted to kick it. She should have been naked and in his shower by now. This wasn’t fair at all. Her muscles were already starting to stiffen from the climb.

  “I’m going to go take a bath,” she said.

  “I could come over and help?” he suggested.

  “No, have fun with your sister.” And Monique, her shitty, insecure brain added. She reached behind her for the knob and pulled the door open. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  She turned before he could talk her into staying and called out, “Nice meeting you!” as she hurried through the living room. She started jogging as soon as she hit the sidewalk, and she was home in two minutes and shutting the door hard behind her. Her apartment felt dark and safe and lonely. It was free of Gabe and beautiful women and what he might be thinking about them.

  But when she rushed to the fridge to grab a bottle of wine, she saw her notes and felt immediately ashamed.

  #4—Stop being afraid.

  She’d actually run home as if she’d been terrorized by those perfectly lovely women. All because she was afraid that Gabe would like them more. That wasn’t normal, was it? What the hell was wrong with her?

  When thirty seconds of hard thought didn’t solve the riddle for her, she decided wine and a hot bath couldn’t hurt anything. An unquestionably less satisfying plan than the one she’d hatched at the bottom of that climb, but it would have to do.

  She deeply regretted the loss of the orgasms Gabe had promised her, but as she eased her sore body into the hot bathwater, she wondered if this was just as good. She moaned so loudly she was afraid her neighbors might hear, then decided she didn’t care. It felt too damn perfect.

  The wine and water soaked warmth into her muscles and she sli
d deeper into the tub, letting go of her tension.

  She didn’t want Gabe to be a man who was used to hanging out with models. She didn’t want him to be someone who loved the city that had scared her so much. But he probably didn’t want her to be the type of girl who felt jealous and insecure, so maybe neither of them was perfect.

  “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?