Taking the Heat (Jackson: Girls' Night Out 3)

“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—”