“I didn’t know the Irish mafia dabbled in laundry.” I try to keep my voice light.
He laughs again. “We dabble in a bit of everything. The linen service is just one of the businesses I oversee.” He tilts his head at the empty chair across from me. “May I?”
I give a welcoming gesture as he sits down. “You oversee multiple businesses yet you had the time to come to my restaurant in person and oversee the details of my tiny account?”
“Very important account,” he corrects me, signaling a passing server. When the server comes over, Gavin turns to me. “Would you like another glass of…”
“Barolo,” I say. “And no, I’m good.”
He has an easy confidence about him, a strong jaw and stronger hands, and when he looks at me, his gray-eyed gaze is penetrating.
“How’s the restaurant opening coming?”
I lean forward without meaning to and tell him. “The menu is set. The kitchen is exactly what I need it to be. It’s starting to feel like home, honestly.”
He leans in too and smiles. “Exactly as it should be then.”
From the corner of my eye, I see Siena clocking us from across the rooftop. She’s talking to her friends, Matti by her side, but her gaze keeps swinging over, and every time it lands on Gavinshe gives me a microscopic nod of approval. I look away before I start laughing.
Gavin’s hand brushes mine on the table when he reaches for his glass. He doesn’t move it away immediately.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about your cooking,” he says, and the way he says it sounds like he hasn’t stopped thinking about me. The look on his face, the way his his hand lingers near mine, reinforces the message.
“Men always love my cooking,” I say lightly.
“I find it hard to believe they only love your cooking.” He smiles.
I feel his warmth, his clear and uncomplicated interest, and I hold it at a careful distance.
He glances around at the party, his eyes landing on Siena who immediately looks away like Gavin didn’t bust her watching us. “Big celebration.”
“Lot’s to celebrate,” I say brightly. “Babies in the family. New year. New restaurant.”
“New couple,” he adds.
I tilt my head. “Sorry?”
“Vin and Ashlyn.”
I freeze, my heart palpitating in my chest.
He shrugs. “A bit archaic but they made it official last night with a consummation, apparently. I thought you’d know, given your connection to the family.”
I turn in the direction he’s looking, toward his Irish family, and see one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen in my life. She’s wearing a backless emerald green dress that dips super low in back, the fabric clinging to her figure and pooling around her feet. Her auburn hair is piled up in an intricate design. When she turns to the side to take a sip from her glass, a few teaser curls frame her face.
She is gorgeous. Of course she is.
My stomach turns over, and everything around me blurs. I press my thumbnail into my palm under the table until the rooftop comes back into focus.
Gavin is watching me. “Problem?”
“Problem? Vin and Ashlyn?” Saying their names together makes my heart thud in my chest. “No, of course not.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.” I reach for my wine. “He’s practically family. My cousin married his brother. It’s wonderful news.”
He nods slowly. “So you were never… involved with him?”
