All the Way

Chapter Four

Miranda watched in amusement as Elaine and Andy rushed around the house in a desperate attempt to get out the door. The three-bedroom townhouse was cozy but trendy, decorated in earthy Tuscan tones. The thick cream carpet was currently littered with Legos and a variety of toys, DVDs, and a big Elmo doll. The removal of the expensive glass coffee table clearly showed child-proofing was needed because of their son’s ability to get into trouble.

She caught a whiff of Chanel perfume as Elaine whizzed by. “He should go down early tonight, so there’s a bottle in the fridge. We’re trying to wean him, but he loves it at night.”

“Ba ba!” Stephen screamed in delight.

Miranda tickled him under the arms and he squirmed and laughed. “Yes, no drawing on the walls tonight, buddy. I got in big trouble for that one.”

Elaine clucked her tongue. “That wasn’t your fault, sweetie. We should have hidden the markers.”

“Not what your husband said. I ended up buying him lunch for a week just to shut him up.”

Andy shot her a look at the feminine glare thrown his way. “Nice work, buddy.”

The bell rang. “I’ll get it. Better hurry up or you’ll never get out of here on time.” She flung open the door. “And for God’s sakes Andy, show your woman a little romance tonight.”

“Hi.”

Miranda stared at the man in front of her. Faded, worn jeans rode low on his hips. A casual blue shirt unbuttoned at the neck and gave her a tantalizing glimpse of olive-toned skin. She wondered if the expression on his face could actually be termed sheepish or if it was just her imagination.

“What are you doing here?” she whispered. One glance back confirmed Andy and Elaine hugging their son good-bye. “I told you I couldn’t see you tonight, and do you listen? No, of course not. The mighty Gavin Luciano always does what he wants no matter the consequences. You are in so much trouble. Andy’s going to have a fit once he finds you here, and I’m going to enjoy every single minute.”

“Hey, Gavin, how are you doing?” Andy reached past her to shake his hand. “I don’t know how late we’ll be. We want to catch supper after the play.”

“Take your time. We’ll have everything under control.”

Miranda let out an outraged squeak, but no words emerged. She studied the two men in front of her and wondered if she’d gone insane. “Andy, what is he doing here?”

Her friend shifted his feet. “Uh, well, he came to see me at The Herald and we got to talking. He told me you couldn’t go to dinner since you had to babysit, so I thought you’d like company.”

A scream bubbled at the back of her throat. “He conned you, didn’t he? God, my own friend becomes my betrayer. Whatever happened to think like a man? Hit him where he hurts the most? Take your revenge for all womankind?”

Andy shrugged. “That was before I knew him.”

“Come on, Red, don’t be so dramatic. You’ll get little Stephen worried.” Gavin walked past her toward the toddler and introduced himself to Elaine. Miranda glared at Andy and tapped her foot.

He threw up his hands. “Fine, I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d mind.”

“E tu, Brute?”

Elaine marched up behind them. A worried frown darkened her face. “Miranda, isn’t that the guy who dumped you three years ago?”

“Talk to your husband. Seems he made a new buddy and invited him over.”

Accusation gleamed from his wife’s eyes. “Is she right? Why would you do something like that? Invite the vampire into our own house?”

Miranda squashed a giggle. Seems Elaine and her both had a deep love for sexy vampire romances.

Andy groaned. “Can’t you give him a second chance? Sometimes men need to be understood. Sometimes we screw up and deserve an opportunity to make amends.”

“Men always stick together,” Elaine grumbled. “Look, if you want me to throw him out, just say the word. It will be my pleasure.”

Miranda shook her head. “Forget it, I can handle him. Have a good time, and don’t worry.”

Andy raced out the door, obviously relieved to have escaped his wife’s wrath for the moment.

Elaine rolled her eyes. “Okay, if you’re sure. My husband and I need to have a chat. Dr. Phil doesn’t seem to be working out.”

Miranda laughed and shut the door behind them. Gavin sprawled out on the floor with a pile of blocks, seemingly absorbed in the task of creating a high-rise building. Stephen was just as intent in his desire to destroy it.

Miranda dropped on the couch and watched them. “How’d you get Andy on your side?”

Massive shoulders lifted. “He’s on both of our sides. He knows where I’m coming from. So, you really felt like I put a spell on you, huh?”

Color flooded her cheeks. “I can’t believe he told you that,” she muttered. “And they say women gossip.”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“I plead the Fifth. Anyway, that was a long time ago.”

He placed a bright red block on the floor and swung his head around. When he spoke, his voice dropped to a sexy growl. “That’s exactly how you made me feel, Red. I used to catch your scent when you walked past me, and it made me drunker than a bottle of age-old whiskey. I used to watch your mouth when you talked, and remember that catchy little moan you made when I pleasure you.”

Heat ripped through her. Her belly clenched and her nipples tightened to achy points. “Don’t. We have an audience.”

He glanced down. Stephen seemed enchanted with the bucket and bored with their conversation. “Oh. What I meant was, you know we were great, umm, great…playmates.” His face lit up at his supposedly brilliant Mission Impossible encoding techniques.

She smothered a laugh.

“Playmates, huh? I’d say we excelled at taking naps. When we got up from our naps, we were lousy together.”

Stephen shoved both hands out and shook his head. “No nap. No, no, no.”

Gavin tousled the boy’s hair and grinned. “No nap for you, buddy. Not yet.” The toddler went back to his blocks. Gavin’s voice lowered. “You’re wrong. We focused too much on napping and never gave social play dates a shot. My fault. I screwed up.”

Tension sizzled in the air, and Miranda raised her chin. Every time her heart softened, she reminded herself he’d do anything to reach his goal. Business was business. If she allowed herself to be vulnerable, she’d give him the opportunity to hurt her again.

This time she may never recover.

“You talk a good game, Gavin, but in two months you’re back out the door. What’s in it for me? I’m not looking for a short-term fling. I’m looking to settle down. Get married. Share a life.” She grinned. “Scare ya yet?”

“Nope. Bring it.”

“And what will your excuse be this time? A bigger contract? Another account only you can close? When does it end? I’m done being left behind.”

“Come with me.”

A clatter of blocks banged together and saved her from answering. Gavin dumped out the rest of the bucket and Stephen dove in. She kept her attention on the toddler and hated the sudden racing of her heart.

“What do you think?”

She sneered and hoped she looked intimidating. “I think you need to nap, bad. Isn’t that when men promise the world?”

A laugh escaped his lips. “God, you’re stubborn.” He put up a hand when she began to protest. “Wait. How about I offer a truce?”

He ignored her disbelieving snort and continued. “I won’t make any moves on you. No touching, no flirting, no bringing up the past. I’ll be the perfect gentlemen this evening.”

“What’s the catch?”

His lips twisted. “If I promise not to nap with you on Andy’s carpet, you give me a fair chance. No looking for hidden motives. No insults or defenses. Have an open mind tonight. Deal?”

Suspicion laced her tone. “All you want to do is talk?”

“Talking is a first good step. At least you won’t pounce on my every comment.”

“I don’t pounce. You just keep making arrogant remarks.”

“See, you broke the deal. That’s considered an insult.” He pointed an accusatory finger.

She fought the sudden urge to laugh. Was she crazy to accept his offer? She should throw him out and forget he came back into her life. Still, her curiosity burned with the need to be completely satisfied.

The offer was safe. Her body always got her in trouble. Tonight, he’d only deal with her mind, and there’d be no way to slip through her defenses. Maybe after tonight she’d be free of him.

“Deal.”

Stephen gurgled and smashed the perfect tower. Brightly colored blocks flew in different directions and he screamed with glee.

Her ex-lover looked disappointed. “Darn, that was a good one. Is he usually this rambunctious?”

Miranda slid off the couch. “He’ll be up another hour or so. He usually passes out by eight and sleeps all night.”

Gavin scooped up the rest of the blocks. “Okay, buddy, let’s see if we can make Trump Towers and sell them before the market crashes.”

Stephen screeched in agreement.

…

Four hours later, Miranda collapsed on the carpet next to Gavin. A groan of pain escaped his lips. “I think I’m going to die.”

“No, you only feel that way because your head is pounding and your legs hurt from racing around the room. Wait till the aspirin kicks in.” Miranda tried to pull herself back up the couch but only managed to move an inch. One glance at her babysitting partner told her he had the same problem. They both lay stretched out on their backs and gazed up at the ceiling.

“You lied. You told me he sleeps all night and isn’t any trouble.”

“It’s your fault. You got him excited about those blocks and he couldn’t fall asleep.”

Gavin groaned. “How am I going to explain the crayon marks on the wall? I swear I took my eyes off him for a second.”

“They’re washable.” The image of the successful, smooth tycoon chasing a toddler flashed before her. A giggle burst from her lips.

“What?”

“You may be able to close a million-dollar deal, but I never saw such a look of fear when Stephen told you he did poop.”

“I think you broke our truce. That was definitely an insult.”

“Just an observation.”

“If I had any strength left I’d kiss you so we’d be even. Did anyone ever tell you how beautiful you look with your hair spread out on the carpet?”

“You’re delusional.”

A comfortable silence settled between them. “I thought Andy had two kids.”

“His daughter is at a slumber party tonight. She’s at that stage where she thinks she’s too cool for a babysitter.”

“Have Andy and Elaine been married long?”

She turned her head to the right and caught a glimpse of his profile. The thought of his mouth sliding, wet and hot, over hers caused a shiver to race down her spine. Damn, she was exhausted. Time to get her mind out of the gutter. “About ten years. I guess Andy was working at another paper and interviewed Elaine for an article on fitness. She managed a health club. He was too shy to ask her out so he ended up writing a different column on her every day for two weeks. His editor finally dragged him in and made him ask her out. They were married a year later.”

Gavin rolled to the side. Propping his head on the side of her head, he studied her in thoughtful silence. Her heart stopped, then burst into rapid staccato. He reached out and ran one finger down her cheek, then drew back as if he remembered his promise.

“It was their karma.”

She swallowed. As if his words weaved a spell, she waited for his mouth to take hers. His quick, indrawn breath cut through the air as he recognized her surrender, and the silence pulsed with electricity. He half closed his eyes. The delicious scents of lemon and spice swarmed her. He leaned in, and she let out a sigh of release. She wouldn’t have to make a choice, because he’d make one for her.

He moved away with a low mutter. “Would Andy mind if I made a fire?” he asked.

She blinked. The air cooled without his body heat near. “No, go ahead. The room’s a bit chilly.”

She remained silent as he made the fire, and when the quick snap of wood caught flame echoed in the air, she remembered how many times they made love in front of Gavin’s fireplace while they listened to the opera.

“You’re thinking about it, too.”

Miranda closed her eyes and tried to will away the memory. “I don’t want to think about the past.”

“I know.” He settled back on the carpet and stretched jean-clad legs in front of him. “I remember the first night I took you to the Met. You’d never seen the opera before, and I warned you most people found the music boring. You insisted you’d love it.”

A reluctant laugh escaped her lips. “My grandmother loved the movie Moonstruck. We used to watch it together. Cher wore a beautiful red dress to the Metropolitan, and when Nicholas Cage took one look at her, I knew he fell madly in love. After that, I longed to see an opera.”

“Hmm, at least you didn’t admire Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction. If my memory is correct, she shared her love for Madame Butterfly with her lover. Then she tried to kill the poor guy.”

She sniffed. “You’re making fun of me.”

Gavin chuckled. “I never saw the movie, but you beat Cher out. You wore green, the exact color of your eyes. The dress had that hood wrap thing, and when you loosened the cloth, all I could see was fiery red curls spilling around your face.”

She caught her breath at the vivid description. “You remember detail well.”

“I remember you.” He paused. “We saw La Traviata. You gripped my hand so hard I thought I’d be crippled by the finale.”

“I didn’t want her to die.”

He nodded. “During the last scene, you cried. Of course, you used to cry over everything. Songs on the radio. Television commercials. Those awful Lifetime movies you always watched. You didn’t budge from the chair at the end, and insisted the composer made a terrible mistake.”

“I was a bit emotional. I hoped for a happier ending.”

“Operas never have happy endings. That’s why people always remember them.”

She retreated from the brief flash of pain. “Yes.” Silence fell over the room. The steady tick of the clock on the mantle mingled with the snap of wood. Shadows danced against the wall. She heard her name whispered from far away. Too tired to fight the raging swirl of emotions, sleep dragged her down and claimed her, and she welcomed it, knowing it would stop the endless array of emotions slowly torturing her.

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.