All the Way (6 page)

The words raked across her ears in a caress and melted into the misty fringes of sleep.

“It was never just sex. I loved you.”

…

Gavin stared into the dancing flames and whispered the words to the woman beside him. “It was never just sex. I loved you.” He gave a soft laugh. “I convinced myself it was only an affair, but every time I held you in my arms, I felt whole. No other woman has been able to make me feel complete. I don’t think any other woman ever will.”

He waited for her response, but only the sounds of snapping logs broke the silence. He dragged in a lungful of air and decided to turn around. Maybe if he looked into her eyes when he said the words, she’d finally believe him. Maybe he’s see a gleam of surrender and know there was a chance. Maybe—

He gazed into her face.

She was asleep.

He blinked. No fucking way. His big confession caused the woman to fall into slumber.

Gavin half groaned at the irony. Why was he surprised? Even sleeping, the woman drove him crazy. He ran a finger down her cheek. Warm, satiny skin. Her strawberries and cream scent drifted around him and caused an instant erection. He shifted as the primitive need to plunge between her thighs took fierce hold. God, he wanted her. Wanted to taste every inch of her skin, bring those animal sounds of pleasure to her lips, and bury himself deep inside her tight, clinging heat.

He’d never been able to keep his hands off her. He’d never had a problem controlling his lust before, or even the basic need to hear her voice and touch her. But nothing could happen until he regained one basic block of foundation.

Trust.

He needed to get his lady to trust him again, and that required keeping his hands off her. At least, for a while. Two weeks. Maybe one.

Ah, hell, he’d barely last another twenty-four hours.

The inner voice mocked his thoughts.

What will happen when your time is up?

He dragged in a breath. He never intended on staying. He had commitments to a company who’d given him a chance to make his dreams come true. Yet, the woman who’d haunted his memories and dreams was here in New York. And lately, he felt more comfortable wearing a waiter’s uniform than a Prada suit.

It was as if a fork in the road opened before him. He ached to claim her again. Give himself to her as fully as she’d given of herself years ago. If he used the time wisely, he may discover if something remained from the ashes of the relationship.

Hell, Phoenix rose from the debris. Maybe so could they.

Except she deliberately wrote that review with one intention: to destroy him, and Mia Casa.

The primitive in him roared at the injustice of her act the same time he ached to bury himself between her thighs. He was betting he’d be able to convince her to write the second review, but at what cost? If he had to end up choosing between his family’s legacy and the lost love of his life, what decision would he make?

The questions whirled in his head and made his temples pound.

Andy and Elaine were due home soon, and his gut told him to disappear. Emotions ran deep this evening, and when Miranda woke, she’d be forced to deal with them. He needed to give her the time and space. Maybe he’d have a plan put together to get everything he wanted.

Two days. He’d wait two days, and then he’d call her.

Gavin checked on the sleeping toddler, washed up, and left.

…

Miranda juggled two grocery bags and kicked the door shut behind her. She dumped the bags and wrinkled her nose. Huh. Her apartment smelled quite…fragrant.

Oh, crap.

She widened her eyes at the sight of dozens of roses. Scattered on tables, glass countertops, even her bookcase. Brilliant colors blended together in a dazzling array, making her blink to test the reality of the image.

Damn. Gavin Luciano struck again.

Miranda grumbled under her breath and stomped to the refrigerator. The man didn’t know when to stop. After the night they spent at Andy’s, she woke to find him gone. Asshole. He had that move down like an expert. It was just like him to begin breaking down some of her barriers, and then take off for greener pastures when the impulse struck. At least she knew she was done this time. One hundred percent over him. She craved stability and peace. Gavin dumped her life upside down and shook out the contents. She prepared for his call the next day and pumped herself up to give him the kiss-off speech of the century.

But he never called. She threw a bag of lettuce, apples, and cheese into the crisper, and squirmed. The man waited two whole days to contact her, then acted outraged when she told him she never wanted to see him. Again.

Miranda took out the Ginseng tea, along with the honey chamomile, to hopefully help her sleep. Any other man would accept her decision and move on. Not Gavin. So he’d started with the gifts.

First candy. He must have bought out every Godiva truffle in Manhattan, in every size, shape, and flavor. She took one box home and gave the rest to her coworkers. At least he remembered her weakness for chocolate. Not that it mattered.

Then the music. An iPod filled will all of her favorite songs, all with a theme. Romance and forgiveness. The man even slipped in Barry Manilow—her secret passion.

Now flowers. She peeked into the living room and gazed at the sensual beauty filling up every space. She adored roses.

Who cared that he was good at remembering what a woman liked? Probably a talent he used to seduce females into his bed. Their relationship was over, and roses and candy and music did not make up for the past. She filled the kettle and began to settle into her evening tea when the bell rang. Another delivery? Great. She trashes his restaurant, and he sends her flowers. Sounded like a bad country song. She flung open the door.

“Why won’t you take my calls?”

Miranda crossed her arms in front of her chest. “How’d you get those roses in my apartment without a key?”

“I know people.”

“Great. Mafia florists.” He brushed past her and walked in. She closed the door in resignation. “Gavin, what do you want?”

“I want to know why you won’t talk to me. I thought we connected at Andy’s.”

She arched a brow. “We connected so much you stumbled to the door in a haste to get away. When things get emotional, you leave. You’re the same man you were before, and I was a fool to forget. You can only be involved with a woman if you’re completely in control of the situation.”

Understanding dawned on his face. He groaned and rubbed his temple. “Ah, shit, now I know why you’re so mad. It’s because I left before you woke, isn’t it?”

She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”

Gavin swore under his breath. “I can’t believe this. For the first time in my life, I try to do the right thing and I fuck up. Miranda, I thought you’d want some space. I decided to leave because I didn’t want to push, and when Andy and Elaine came back I didn’t want you to feel awkward.”

She stared at him warily. “Is that why you didn’t call?”

He nodded. “I wanted to give you two days. I figured it was a good time for you to come to terms with rebuilding this relationship. I wanted to text or call, but I thought you needed time.”

Suddenly drained, her shoulders slumped. She sat down on one of the counter stools. “I can’t do this anymore, Gavin.”

Was that a flicker of fear on his face? Probably just a trick of the light. “Do what, baby?”

“Something happened at Andy’s. I felt—I felt almost as if I was discovering you all over again. Part of me wanted to surrender, and the other part knew I could never trust you.”

He took the stool next to her. His voice was gentle was he spoke. “I’m different, Miranda. We’re different.”

The woman she was years ago craved to believe him. The woman she was today laughed in scorn. Gavin wanted a second review—that was the main item on his agenda, and she’d be a fool to forget it. After all, this was his family. He hadn’t chosen her over his career before. Why would she possibly think he’d pick her over Mia Casa now?

“Do you really want to give us a chance? Or do you want a better review?”

He stiffened and seemed to choose his words with care. “How about both? If I thought your article was fair, I’d step away and stop asking. But this could be the difference between bankruptcy and saving the restaurant that’s been in my family for generations.”

God, she didn’t want to feel all these emotions. Didn’t want to question herself any longer. Need and fear and a lingering pain rose up and swamped her. She needed to make a final decision. Let go of the past and give Gavin another chance. Or walk away and get on with her life.

She wanted to trust him. But the image of her crying and alone, with no one to turn to taunted her vision. Miranda vowed never to experience such gripping sadness, and this was the same man who caused it. So she did the only thing she knew.

“I can’t do this anymore,” she repeated softly. “I know you told me the reason you left, but for three years you never contacted me. Never wondered what you left behind, or what I had to go through when I tried to call the next day and opened up a neat, cold email.” She stopped, refusing to share what else he had left behind. The past was the past, and it was time she moved on. “I don’t believe I really meant anything to you. That’s what I can’t forgive.”

His hands gripped the counter as he bowed his head, seeming to struggle with her final answer. When he rose, his face reflected a battle-scarred weariness. “I understand.” He reached inside his jacket pocket and tossed a handful of envelopes on the table. “I’m not giving you these to change your mind. I can’t take away the past, but at least you can see I wasn’t lying. I thought about you every day. Those are just a few of the letters I wrote, and I wanted to mail them, but—” he broke off in disgust. “Doesn’t matter.”

“I’ve pushed too hard because that’s what I’ve always done when I want something. Seems I have lousy timing learning when I should back off and when I should stick.” He gave a self-mocking laugh. “But I want to learn. I know you have little reason to trust me. We have a special celebration tonight at the restaurant to reveal the new lounge. I want you to come with me. Meet my parents. See a part of my heritage and my past.” His eyes blazed with intensity. “I’m asking you to give me this one night to show you who I am. Share what I was too fucking selfish to give you before. I don’t want to hurt you anymore, Miranda.” His voice turned ragged. “And if you don’t show up tonight, I won’t bother you again.”

He left.

She touched the crinkled stack of letters bound in a worn rubber band. Pain and longing hit her gut. His words reached deep inside and stirred up a mess of emotions she thought were compartmentalized. Did she really want to open herself back up to rejection? How many times had crazy hope driven her to think this time it would be different?

She remembered her mother returning home from rehab, smelling clean and fresh and sweet. Her long red hair caught the light of the sun as they sat in the living room together, reading books and doing puzzles on the glass table. She sensed this time, her mother was healed. This time, she would stay with her and Grandma, and they’d be happy and normal. She ignored the worried gleam in her grandmother’s eyes. Refused to see the tremble of her mother’s fingers as she lit cigarette after cigarette. The whispered phone calls out on the porch. The beginning of the decline, all over again.

Miranda hugged her arms around her middle. So stupid. Within a few days, the drugs were back. The strangers hovered outside, with the crazy eyes and mismatched clothes. When she woke up, her grandmother cooked her breakfast in the tiny, silent kitchen. And Miranda knew her mother had left again, for the lure of the drugs and unnamed, faceless people who didn’t care.

They never spoke of her again.

A shudder wracked her body. Opening herself back up to Gavin held no purpose. Yet, the thought of meeting his family tantalized like a pair of Manolos on sale in Payless. One night. No promises. He’d already vowed to leave her alone if she asked. Somehow, she sensed his own pain when he talked of their past. But it was too late. And no letters were going to make up for it, either.

She opened the kitchen drawer and stuffed the stack of envelopes way in the back. She now retained complete control. Perhaps, by meeting his family and finally seeing him in his own personal element, she’d be able to gain more closure. Closure to finally walk away without a backward glance or a hitch of her heart.

And of course, the last word.

Finally.

Miranda stood in the kitchen for a long time before she made her decision.

Chapter Five

“Mama, Pop, this is Miranda Storme.”

Miranda shifted her feet as the elderly couple stared at her in astonishment. Damn, she’d known this was a mistake. Why would Gavin’s parents welcome her to their restaurant when she’d been the one to trash it in the first place? She craved to remain in the background and observe tonight, but the moment she appeared he dragged her back toward the kitchen. Sweat dampened her palms and she fought the urge to swipe them down her skirt.

As if he sensed her anxiety, Gavin linked his fingers within hers. Gently, he squeezed, and she relaxed at the full impact of his support.

His father cleared his throat. “Um, are you the Miranda Storme who did the review?”

“Yes, sir. I’m afraid I am.”

The couple exchanged glances. “I see,” Archimedes Luciano said. “Are you here to do a second review?”

“She’s with me, Pop. Miranda’s my date tonight.” Gavin flashed her a mischievous grin. “And she says she won’t do a second review under any circumstances.”

Gray brows slammed together. “You dated my son years ago, yes?”

She nodded.

Archimedes glared at Gavin. “You messed up the relationship, didn’t you?”

Gavin winced. “Yeah.”

His father let out a long stream of Italian. Miranda figured the words weren’t meant to be said in polite company since his wife gasped and cut him off with one sharp command. “Passion without pain, sunshine without rainy days, huh? You wanted it all, but you lost a little thing called love. True love. Real life does not work like this, Giovanni.”

She turned with fascination and caught a flush on her ex-lover’s cheeks. “Giovanni?”

“I don’t answer to that name,” he stated with a straight face. “Stop quoting Sinatra, pop. That’s not what happened.”

His father snorted. “Everything about life is learned from Frank. I have told you this over and over, but you still refuse to listen.” He focused his attention on her. “My son does many mistakes, but he’s trying to make up for them. I just have one question to ask you,
signorina.”

She swallowed. “Yes, sir?”

“Did the broccoli rabe really taste like rubber?”

Miranda nodded. “I’m afraid it did.”

“Then you told the truth, and my son has another problem to fix. You are welcome here. Gavin tells me he has a surprise for the guests tonight. Yet another unveiling of these so-called modern features that make a successful restaurant.”

She smiled. “Thank you, I’m looking forward to it.”

His mother shook her head and patted her hand. “I agree with my husband. We are honored to have you as our guest.” She wagged a finger at her son. “Just make sure this surprise doesn’t contain anything distasteful. No lewd singers or dancers to bring in customers. No nakedness, either.”

Gavin rolled his eyes. “Mama, give me a break.”

Miranda tried not to giggle. His parents walked away, and she realized Gavin still held her hand. She tugged but he kept his grip, raising her hand to press a kiss against her palm. His steel-blue gaze pierced into hers. “They like you.”

His warm lips skated over her wrist, and her skin prickled. “How can you tell?”

“Pop yelled at me. That’s always a good sign. He also respects your honesty.”

“Anything else?”

“Yeah, he likes your hair.”

She blinked. “My hair?”

He released her hand and brushed his fingers down over the strands. The curls jumped and wrapped themselves around him. “Fire trapped in satin,” he murmured. “Just like the woman herself.”

A rush of lust hit her hard. She shifted her weight to relieve the ache between her legs. “What about your mother?”

Gavin grinned. “She likes your spirit. She says I usually walk all over women, and Mama admires strength.”

“Funny, I’ve never met them before this.”

He tilted her chin up. “I kept you away from my family because I knew they’d fall in love with you, and then I’d have nothing left to fight.”

She ached to smooth back the unruly curl that fell across his forehead. Trace the heavy line of his brow, the thrust of his jaw, the sensual curve to his lower lip. Instead, she cleared her throat. “Want to give me a full tour?”

He allowed her the space and nodded. “Of course.”

She followed him deeper into the back. Half of the tables were filled, and the clean white tablecloths mocked the loss of the majority of customers.

“I want to show you my vision,” he said. “We were losing a lot of clientele because we lacked features that mark the more New World Italian restaurants.” He stopped at the large modern bar, where the bartender chatted with one of the customers, refilling her glass of red wine. “We renovated the bar for the after work crowd, and added an appetizer menu to bulk up customers at lunch and happy hour.”

“I assume your parents didn’t approve of these renovations?”

“They threw a fit. After I found out Mia Casa was on the verge of bankruptcy, I used my money to overhaul the place and hopefully draw in a new client base. But Mia Casa has always been built on tradition, so my family was afraid we’d lose all the solid customers that started our business in the first place. I’m looking for a balance.”

She nodded. “You’re right. How are you trying to draw people in?”

“We’re advertising entertainment on weekends now. Come on, I’ll show you the lounge.” They walked into the back room, which was set up with a sleek black piano and dance floor. Rich Tuscan landscape paintings and tapestries hung on the walls, and simple arrangements of fresh flowers rested on low tables. Candles filled the room and added to the intimate atmosphere.

“It’s beautiful. I like the way you set up the seating. There’s enough space in between tables to guarantee privacy.”

“That’s what I wanted. Tonight is the grand opening of the lounge. Our singer starts at nine.”

Her lip twitched. “Lady GaGa?”

His face was deadpan. “No, Kid Rock.”

She laughed. “Your mother will be thrilled.”

“Hey, Gavin! I got a huge problem at table four, I need you now—oh, hi, Miranda.” Brando stopped short in front of them. “How ya doing?”

“Good, Brando. How’s Tracey?”

He beamed. “She’s great. She told me you went to check out her pizza place and that you told the manager she was one of the best waitresses in town.”

Gavin lifted his brow. “You actually went to that dive in the Village?”

Brando stuck out his lower lip. “It’s not a dive, they have the best Sicilian. Right, Miranda?”

“I have to agree with your younger brother. Sal’s Slice is certainly not a dive.”

Gavin groaned. “I can’t believe this. You trash Mia Casa and give four stars to his girlfriend’s pizza place.”

“I call them as I see them.”

“Yeah, Gavin. If you didn’t act like such an idiot years ago, maybe she’d have given us a break. And she was right. The broccoli rabe sucked.”

Gavin put up a hand. “No more. Don’t give the woman ammunition. I’m trying to convince her to do a second review.”

Brando snorted. “She never does second reviews. Get over it.”

She bit her lip hard.

“So you’ve been reminding me. What’s the trouble with table four?”

“They want me to bring over a side of sauce for their linguini.”

“So?”

“They’re having the linguini with garlic and oil.”

Gavin winced. “You can’t put sauce over that type of dish.”

“Yeah, but they’re not Italian. They don’t get it. Anyway, Tony refuses to give them the sauce. Says it will ruin his reputation.”

Gavin shook his head. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Hey, can I work the bar?”

“You’re under age.”

The famous pout rested on Brando’s lips. “I won’t drink, I just want to serve. I’m sick of waiting tables.”

Gavin sighed and turned to her. “Would you excuse me for a moment? I need to get some things settled with the staff.”

“Sure, go ahead. I’ll sit at the bar.”

The brothers left the room and a grin tugged at her lips. She’d never seen this side of her old lover. Watching him not so in control of the elements made him more approachable. Human. A flare of hope ignited. Was it possible to get a second chance?

Or did Gavin just want to save his family restaurant?

Miranda pushed away the disturbing question and headed toward the bar.

…

He wasn’t happy.

Miranda threw back her head and laughed at something the bartender said. A rush of possessiveness settled over him, and his hands clenched around the china as he fought the urge to howl and drag her away. He knew Dominick was happily married, but it didn’t stop the man’s gaze from roaming appreciatively over her body. And he seemed to lean in a bit too close when he spoke.

“No, I asked for the chicken Parmesan,” Gavin’s customer told him as he set the plate down.

“I’m sorry, my mistake.” He shook his head to clear it and switched the plates to their correct positions. “Can I get you another glass of wine?”

“No, thanks, Gavin. How about some more bread?”

He nodded. “I’ll be right back, Mr. Diamonte.”

Gavin muttered a curse as he hurried back to the kitchen. He’d invited her out for a romantic evening and ended up taking over the role of waiter. He was going to kill Brando. His half-hour break now stretched to over an hour. Probably making out with Tracey in the car, and God knows that could take forever. Gavin glanced once more to his date, but she seemed perfectly at ease with Dominick’s company. And Antonio’s. And Pop’s. Hell, even the singer he hired stopped to introduce himself and chat. Everyone seemed to get a chance to enjoy her company except him.

The smell of smoke made him turn left. He stopped at the corner table where Pop and his Sinatra crew played cards, drank wine, and snuck cigarettes. When had he become the straight one in the family? “Pop, what are you doing?”

His father waved him off. “Cosmo isn’t hurting anyone by having a quick smoke.”

Gavin crossed his arms over his chest and gave him his best hard ass stare. The other members of the group ignored him and concentrated on their hand. Cosmo was second in charge, evident in his appearance. A thick gray mustache set off a face that would make any gangster proud, but he’d gone bald years ago. His thick black glasses hid a sharp gaze that had run a successful place in Little Italy, before he gave it up to his two sons and hung out with his posse across town.

“Cigarettes kill you. Gives you cancer, stroke, and heart attack. Is that what you all want?”

Cosmo snorted in a cloud of smoke. “Sinatra smoked every day of his life and made it into his nineties. This world has become too soft.”

The third member of the group, Vinnie, nodded. Instead of wine, his fingers clasped the tiny shot glasses of Grappa. Gavin always wondered how the man walked straight. The grainy Italian liquor was hard-core, and he drank it all night long without even a slight buzz marring his poker game. Vinnie sported the old-fashioned white button-down shirt, slacks, and sports jacket. Old school about his appearance, he always showed up dressed like he was going out on a hot date rather than getting drunk at the bar with his friends.

Vinnie hummed the first bar of a song. Pop jumped in. “
Don’t Worry About Me
,” he boomed.

Cosmo cursed. “I shoulda had that one.”

Gavin blew out a breath. Didn’t they ever talk in anything but Sinatra code? “Fine, if I won’t change your mind by threats of death, how about jail? You’re breaking the law. No smoking inside of restaurants. Put it out, Cosmo.”

The thick gold ring around his finger gleamed in the light. He muttered something in Italian and stubbed out the cigarette. “Ridiculous. You’re gonna ruin my game.”

Pop glared at him.

He confiscated the ashtray and the lighters. “No more smoking.”

Cosmo glanced at his hand and threw in two more chips. “
Luck Be A Lady Tonight
, gentlemen.”

The men grumbled and went back to their game.

Gavin smothered a laugh and left. He dropped off a basket of bread and checked Antonio’s progress in the kitchen. His chef shook his head in disgust when he entered. “You are screwing up again, Gavin.”

“I’m trying to keep the evening running smoothly. Who would’ve thought Pop hung out with the bad crowd?”

“You will lose your lady. You haven’t even danced with her tonight, and you leave her in the company of Dominick for entertainment.”

“He’s married with kids.”

Antonio sighed. “He cheats on his wife. This I know for a fact.”

Gavin paused for a beat, then ripped off his apron. “When Brando gets here, tell him to set up cappuccino for table five. I’m taking a break.”

He strode to the bar and took a seat next to her. She tapped the edge of her glass with one cherry red fingernail as she listened to Dominick amuse her with stories about the business. Gavin casually reached under the bar and slid one hand to the top of her thigh, stopping at the hem of her short black dress. Her quick indrawn breath danced in his ears.

Dominick seemed to sense her distraction and paused. “Hey, Gavin, how are you? Just keeping this lovely lady company while you take care of business.”

Gavin smiled. “How’s Deborah doing? And the kids, of course.”

Color stained the man’s cheeks. “Uh, fine, just fine. Be right back.” He flew to the end of the bar and left them alone.

Miranda glanced at him from under lowered lashes. “Were you trying to prove a point?”

His fingers glided over her silk-clad legs, and her sleek muscles flexed under his touch. He grew to rock hard status and shifted uncomfortably as he imagined stripping off that dress and getting her naked and ready. Damn, she was beautiful. Classy. Sexy. It’d be a miracle if he got through the evening without taking her in the stockroom. Instead, he focused on conversation. “I just asked about his family. You knew he had a family, right?”

She emitted a throaty gasp when his hand dipped under the sensitive flesh behind her knee. “The subject never came up, but I did notice the wedding ring. You didn’t have to play the role of possessive caveman, you know. What are you doing?”

“Touching you.” He gritted his teeth as the wave of lust hit him hard. “I’m frustrated. I’ve been watching you all night, smiling and laughing with other men, and all I want to do is hold you in my arms. Strip off that little black dress. Kiss you, make you moan, drive inside you over and over—”