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

He spotted Veronica at a table with a few of his friends as soon as he walked in. They must have called her over to join them. She was deep in conversation with Benton, and even when Gabe sat down next to her, she only offered a wave before carrying on. She looked as pretty as ever, but tonight she was wearing a black tank top and tight jeans. Gabe introduced Naomi and Monique to the others and then leaned a little closer to Veronica.

“I’m not an expert in education or autism,” she said, “but I have an idea. If y

ou can’t afford to go back and visit very often, maybe you could send a recording. I know you said he doesn’t want to talk on the phone, so maybe something playable would be better. A video of you reading a story or singing a song or just talking about something you like. That might help him hear you without having to engage on the spot.”

“That’s a great suggestion!” Benton said, slapping his hand on the table. “I know repetition can be important to him. And I play a little guitar. I think he likes the Beatles.”

“That’s perfect,” Veronica said.

“I just don’t want him to forget me, you know? I’m the only uncle he has, but I can’t get back to visit more than once a year.” Benton nodded to himself before his gaze shifted to Gabe. “Man, I can’t believe you’re dating Dear Veronica! She’s a genius. How did you pull that off?”

“Just lucky, I guess.”

She turned to him with a smile, and Gabe was struck anew by how sexy she was. Her big eyes were painted dark and smoky again, and her earrings were long strands of silver that moved with every breath she took. “Hey, beautiful,” he said as his gaze fell to her rosy pink mouth. “Thanks for giving me another chance.”

“Stop being charming,” she said, but her gaze was on his mouth, too, as if she wanted to taste him just as much as he wanted to taste her.

He tipped his head toward her ear. “Give me thirty minutes. I just need to be sure Naomi is comfortable, and then she won’t care if I’m here anymore. We can go.”

Veronica shook her head. “No, I want to stay and have fun. It’s been a long week already.”

“Did some jackass make you try rock climbing or something?”

She laughed, throwing her head back the way she did when she relaxed, and Gabe watched the curve of her neck and remembered that he’d planned to lick her there this afternoon. That had been hours ago. He might start to twitch if he didn’t touch her soon.

“Yes,” she laughed, “some jackass made me try rock climbing. But after that stress with the column, I’m down for a little fun.”

He brushed his thumb against hers. “You haven’t heard back?”

“No, and I’d like to forget it for a little while.”

“I’ll do anything I can,” he said.

While she was laughing, Benton caught Gabe’s eye. “Hey, you didn’t tell me Naomi was here,” he said, his best charming-bartender smile in place.

Gabe groaned, but there was no keeping those two apart. “She wanted to surprise you.” Within minutes Benton had gotten up and planted himself in between Naomi and Monique.

“Gabe!” Naomi called as the crowd got louder. “Why does Benton keep referring to your girlfriend as Dear Veronica?”

“She’s the local advice columnist,” he said with a proud grin.

Naomi’s mouth made a perfect O of surprise, as if she were posing for the camera, but her shriek wasn’t quite as elegant. “Are you kidding me? Like Dear Abby?”

“Well,” Veronica answered, “a little younger, I hope.”

“That’s so cool!” Naomi leaned past Gabe, forcing him to edge back in his seat. He tried not to resent it. “I need some advice! Can you help me?”

“It depends on your problem,” Veronica answered. “But I’ll try my best.”

Naomi glanced at Gabe, then looked over her shoulder at Monique before leaning in closer. “I have a friend who’s getting married in a month. Great guy, big wedding, expensive honeymoon, all that. But here’s the thing... Three months ago, she accidentally texted me when she obviously meant to text someone else, because, you know...she mentioned his dick.”

Gabe groaned and leaned farther back as Naomi shot him an irritated look. “I know what a dick is, Gabe.”

“Shut up.”

“Anyway,” she huffed, “she immediately texted again and said, ‘Sorry, that was for Oliver, LOL!’ Except I know it wasn’t for Oliver. We were all at the same party together, and she was texting and I could see Oliver across the room and he was talking to someone else the whole time! His phone wasn’t even in his hand!”

Veronica winced. “Yikes.”