All the Way by Jennifer Probst

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