All the Way (7 page)

“Gavin!” Her lower lip trembled. “Don’t say those things. And no—no touching.”

He reluctantly let his fingers drop from the path of Eden. “Why?”

“Because. You’re not getting me into bed tonight just because you invited me out once. Plus, we’re in a public place.”

He shot her a grin. “Never stopped us before.”

Sexual tension squeezed between them. A flash of recognition crossed her face. Gavin remembered the times they met for lunch, and ended up racing to the nearest taxicab to get home. The hands under the table. The whispers behind menus. And of course, the time in the unisex bathroom…

“We’re in your parents’ restaurant.” She reached for her wine glass. “I’m not like that anymore. I was more impulsive, and now I’m interested in sophisticated conversation. Friendship. Dependability.”

He chuckled. “All that stuff is good, baby, but if the chemistry isn’t right, you’ll end up with a nice friend who happens to be in bed with you. For the rest of your life.”

“If you settle for just sex, you won’t have anyone waking up with you in the morning. Six weeks and he’ll be running for the door.”

Gavin laughed. “Nice hit.” He stroked her hair, then ran a finger down her cheek. She shuddered. “That’s why we’re going to have both.”

Her pupils dilated. If he pushed hard, she’d buckle. But he didn’t want to win her body. He craved more. His past actions stripped away her confidence in him, and he longed to heal the wounds. Gavin wanted her to feel safe in his arms again. Words wouldn’t convince her. Sex wouldn’t, either. Just time, though he didn’t have much left.

The calls were beginning. The company wanted him back sooner, and though his official leave gave him eight more weeks, the pressure was on for him to take over an important foreign deal. The younger associate didn’t have the skills, and MacKenzie & Associates were afraid of a screw up. They needed a closer.

Him.

He pushed away the thought and concentrated on the present. How long had he lived by the creed of bigger, better, and now? Never able to enjoy his success in the moment, and never satisfied for long. His time in India clarified what he needed to do. Slow down. Focus. Savor. And be grateful for all.

Starting with Miranda.

“Will you dance with me?” His voice came out hoarse. Crap, he felt like he was at prom with sweaty palms, hoping not to get shot down. “For a little while I want to hold you and close my eyes. Pretend I hadn’t fucked up. Pretend you belong to me again.”

Her startled gaze studied his face for a long time. Without a word, she slid her hand into his and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor. The singer was a nice blend of old and new, offering classics for the traditional crowd earlier on, then switching to current popular songs for the younger partiers. Gavin stopped and motioned him over, giving his request, then eased Miranda into his arms.

She fit in his arms as if they’d never been apart. The years melted away and became a distant memory. His body remembered the familiar rhythm and settled as if he was home. Thigh brushed against thigh, and his hips cradled hers. He buried his hands in the silky waves curling down her back, and the tight nubs of her nipples against his chest told him she was just as aroused. The creamy tone of
I’ve Got You Under My Skin
drifted in his ears.

“God, Red, you could always drive a man to his knees.”

Her thigh slid between his legs and her knee lifted slightly. He sucked in his breath as the slither of silk rushed past his ears, and warm flesh pressed against his erection. Her body trembled, and a fierce rush of satisfaction shot through him. His lady may fight her emotions, but on a primitive scale, her body surrendered.

“I won’t go to bed with you tonight, Gavin.”

A strangled laugh escaped his lips at her candor. “You always did know how to let a man down easy. Do you think I’d force you?”

Miranda snorted. “Your skills of persuasion were worse. But I won’t let you seduce me. I meant what I said. I need friendship and trust. I don’t want to be impulsive anymore.”

Worry nibbled at his usual confidence. “I know. I don’t expect you to be the same person. It’s just that I feel this wall around you, and I don’t know how to fight through.” He forced a smile. “But I don’t expect miracles. I knew this would take time.”

“Gavin—”

“Hush.” He dropped a kiss on her temple and held her closer. “The song’s almost over.”

They were quiet for a while and moved gracefully across the floor. “I remember Sinatra songs used to make you cry.”

She hesitated. “I don’t cry. Not anymore.”

His arms tightened around her but he didn’t respond. Another scar. One he’d probably caused. What had happened after he left? Had another asshole hurt her? Betrayed her trust? A wave of anger rushed over him when he thought of the laughing, open woman she’d been when they met. The thought he’d accomplished it all by himself disgusted him. How selfish he’d been. How much he needed to make up for.

Applause swept through the room at the close of the song. Gavin led her back to the main dining room. “Did Tony set you up with an appetizer sample?” he asked.

She shot him a look. “Yes. He let me gorge for free and then mentioned he had three kids to support if the restaurant went under.”

Gavin laughed. “I swear I didn’t put him up to that.”

“Hmm. You did always prefer the direct approach.”

He paused.
“We’re all invested in Mia Casa.
I’m sure you take that into consideration every time you rate a restaurant with low marks. Don’t you?”

She flinched. Yes, there was definitely a flare of guilt and rebellion in those gorgeous eyes. “Sure. But I told the truth, and that’s what counts.”

“I know. But I also noticed when you rated Billy’s Steak House three stars, you made note the meat was tough, the service was poor, but you concentrated on the entire experience. Did you do that with us, Miranda?”

She opened her mouth to answer, but looked over his shoulder with a frown. “Gavin, what’s going on over there?”

His gaze followed her curious stare to where a small crowd gathered around one of the tables. He spotted Brando standing a few feet away, apparently frozen by the scene. Then he heard the scream.

“He’s choking! Somebody, please help him!”

Ignoring his rapidly pounding heart, Gavin raced to the center of the group. A young man clutched at his throat. His eyes bulged and his skin turned an odd purple color.

He tried five hard slaps in the middle of his shoulder blades. When nothing dislodged, Gavin grabbed the man from behind, slipped his arms around his stomach, and made a fist with his two hands. Quickly finding the right position, he gave one upward thrust.

Nothing.

Gavin took a deep breath and remained calm. Deliberately shutting out the noise and panic around him, he repositioned his hands and once again jerked upward.

Something dislodged from the man’s throat and flew across the room.

The man gasped for air. Gavin almost sank to the floor in relief as he let him go, stepping back as the woman threw herself into the man’s arms, crying. After a few moments, he tried to calm the other patrons and guided them back to their tables.

“Are you okay, sir?” he asked the young man.

Gratitude shone in the man’s eyes. “Yes. God, it all happened so fast, and I couldn’t get a breath. I don’t know how to thank you.”

The woman tearfully agreed.

Gavin shook his head. “You don’t have to, I’m just glad you’re all right.” He chatted with them a few moments, then left to search for Miranda.

She stood at the back of the room. A strange expression flickered across her face. “You saved his life.”

He shifted his feet uncomfortably. Ah, hell, he didn’t want that hero shit. “Any of my staff members could have helped him. We’re all trained to handle choking using abdominal thrusts. It’s part of the requirement.”

“I’m sure they could. But there were other servers in that room, and nobody moved. They were in shock.”

He frowned. “Funny, I thought I saw Brando by their table. Did you see him?”

She nodded. “He went out back after everyone calmed down. I think he’s upset.”

“I have to talk to him. Will you wait for me a little longer?”

She smiled, slow and sweet, and his heart stuttered. “Yes.”

He made a mental note to thank her properly later and went in search of his brother.

The smell of smoke wafted in the air as he shut the door behind him. Brando leaned against the wall near the Dumpster. He took a drag on his cigarette and stared out into the night. One look told him his younger brother struggled with some demons.

“I didn’t know you smoked.”

Brando gave him a disgusted look. “You don’t know a lot of things about me. And Pop doesn’t know, either, so don’t go trying to tattle.”

A smile tugged at his lips. “It’s your life. If you want to die young, feel free.” Silence settled between them. The familiar sounds of the city drifted in the background. The stench of food and garbage rose up to greet him. “What’s up?”

“Nothing.”

The tip of the cigarette glowed fiercely in the darkness. “You’re pissed at me, aren’t you, Brando?”

His younger brother shrugged. “Why would I be mad at you? You’re perfect. You leave the family and become rich. You travel around the world and see exotic places. Then when you decide to come home, Pop flings open his arms and gives over the restaurant. Hell, you even know how to save a man’s life. Who can compete?”

Gavin leaned over and plucked a cigarette from the pack. The hell with it. He was tired of being the smoking police. Brando opened his mouth to protest, but fascination seemed to win as he watched Gavin take a long drag.

“You’re right,” he said. “I do sound perfect, don’t I? But I took the easy route. I left. You stayed. You gave Pop hope you’d run the restaurant and love it the way he does. I’m only the guy with the money.” Regret coursed through him at the loss. “Pop wants to see you go to college, get an education, and come back and kick ass. This is your inheritance, Brando. I’m just trying to keep it going until you claim it.”

Brando frowned. “But Pop always said Mia Casa was yours.”

A grim smile curved his lips. “I gave up my opportunity when I left. I want to use my money to make it great again, but Pop always said a restaurant is only sustained through heart. You’re the heart, Brando.”

“I screwed up.” Self-disgust flicked through his words. “I want to do better, but I’m worried all the time. Afraid if I don’t give Tracey enough time, she’ll leave me. Afraid I’ll just be a glorified waiter instead of the real owner. I’m not responsible enough to inherit Mia Casa.”

The truth of his brother’s fear hit deep and reminded him so much of his own worries. Trapped by the same daily routine. Terrified of failure and craving to make his own mark, in his own way. He rarely had the opportunity to talk straight to his younger brother, especially after he left for so many years.

Gavin dragged in a breath. “Listen up. You’re supposed to be a bit irresponsible. Hell, you just graduated high school, Brando, give yourself a break. When I started, I was a waiter for a long time—that’s how you learn the business, from the ground up. But you’re not running away. You want to study, stay, learn. And I believe you can.”

His brother flicked the ash and seemed to contemplate his words. “Yeah, but you
do
things,” he burst out. “Back inside, I knew that man was choking. I saw him, and I should have been able to do something. Instead, I just stood there and watched. I couldn’t move. If you hadn’t been there he would have—” he turned his head away.

Gavin kept his voice gentle. “Do you think at seventeen years old I could have done any different? That was an intense scene, and sometimes you shut down. Shit happens. Dominick was also in the room, and he had the same problem. I may have been able to move, but I was scared out of my mind.”

“You were?”

“Hell, yes, do you think I’m Superman? I wasn’t sure I could get the thing out of his throat, and then I’d be responsible for his death.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Brando flung the butt on the ground and crushed it beneath his shoe. “Did Pop see any of the scene?”

“No, he was in the kitchen with Tony.”

“Are you gonna tell him?”

“No reason to.”

Brando nodded. “Thanks.”

“Nothing to tell. Of course, if he catches you smoking, you’re screwed.”

“He smokes with his posse.”

Gavin rolled his eyes. “He’s just showing off for them. He’s always been against cigarettes.”

“I only have one when I’m stressed. I don’t like it much, anyway.”

“Okay. I better get inside to Miranda.” He opened the door but his brother’s voice made him turn back around. “Yeah?”

Brando hesitated. “I know Pop forgives you for leaving. So do I.”

Relief rushed through him. He hadn’t realized how badly he wanted his brother to understand his regrets. The distance between them melted away. He remembered the day he left. Brando stood on the curb with ferocious resentment and something deeper. Something that kept him up at night the same way Miranda haunted him.

Betrayal.

He’d hurt the people he loved the most. Back then, he didn’t give a shit. Today, he knew he’d give up all his money to build back the foundation with them both. His throat tightened with wimpy emotion but he forced himself to sound casual. “Thanks.”

“Gavin?”

“Hmm?”

“I think Miranda Storme will eventually forgive you, too.”

“God, I hope so. I broke up with her in an email.”

His brother winced. “Bad move, dude. She still looks into you, though. You probably need to really dig deep. Tell her all your feelings and stuff. Girls like that.”

Gavin laughed. “I’m trying. But I’m dealing with a ticking time bomb. She knows I need to leave soon, so she’s afraid to trust me.”

Brando crinkled his brow. “I don’t get it. Why start something with her you may not be able to continue?”

“I’m gonna take her with me.” The truth smacked him like a wet towel. Until he uttered the words, he hadn’t known how he’d handle the problem of his job. He had a few weeks left to gain back her trust. Her love. Then he’d ask her to come with him.