“Loving it,” I answered.
“I’m guessing you never made it to first base with my sister then, seeing as I can’t see her around and hanging off your arm?” Marco’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “Being the gentleman that you are, you obviously didn’t pursue her after all.”
I grunted and flashed him a dirty look.
Damn it, he could poke all he wanted, but no way would I would confess to Marco what went down with his sister and me the previous night. I didn’t trust myself to be close to her and not make a move on her. Hell, the way she’d acted, inviting me to teach her everything I know about sex and to admit she’d fantasised about me? Holy Hell, I didn’t trust myself to be alone with her and there was no use in begging for trouble. I hated that I had to hurt her; the expression in her eyes was almost enough to make me reconsider, if only to be allowed to wipe away her pain.
I had to admit it; Mia had grown up. But I couldn’t let her goad me into doing something she’d regret. She was too young to really know what she wanted for the long haul, and even though I was looking for a one-night stand, I sure as hell was not having it with her. The pain of rejection was for her own good, even though sticking to my guns choked something deep inside me.
“Of course, living here at the pub means you’ve got much more privacy than staying at one of the resort suites, like I do.” Marco jumped off the table with a whoop of delight. “Hey, buddy, you blew that shot,” he called out to one of the young guys. “You want to have a turn, Zane, or is your shoulder still giving you trouble?”
My shoulder injury was damn fine! It was my dick which was giving me trouble. Max still hadn’t forgiven himself for shooting me instead of that fucker, Tate Turner, who tormented Jada for months. Turner not only beat Jada once, but twice within an inch of her life; all because he wanted her shares in the Sinclair Winery. I was almost fully recovered thanks to Milan. She was in her final semester of her studies in Physiotherapy and had referred me to a great therapist who had recently opened a clinic in Nuriootpa, which is one of the main towns in the Barossa. It saved me travelling to and from Adelaide, which I certainly did not have time for these days.
As long as I did my exercises every day, I would regain complete mobility in my shoulder in a few more months. I continued to sip my beer and glanced around, letting the familiar refurnished décor soothe my tired nerves. It wasn’t even noon and I was already on my way to another round of beer.
The place was filling up. Jada wanted it to be very informal with drinks and simple nibbles, and she insisted on not making it a private function by allowing the pub to run exactly how it normally did on a Sunday. Sunday was one of the busiest days. On our side of the hall, people sat and talked, or played pool and relaxed. I had my manager set up the outdoor area for the farewell.
There was a section next door where the music was usually louder, the dance floor wide and the bar open late, but that didn’t open up until five pm. We were the only ones playing pool in the front bar, which was tucked away in the back corner of the pub where it was quiet and private.
I was getting up for my turn when I saw her. Mia breezed in the doorway, dark, silky hair floating around her head. She looked like an angel entering the room. The first thing I noticed were her breasts almost spilling out of her dress.
Most Sundays at the Brunetti mansion for family dinners, Mia was always in denim jeans or jean shorts with cotton shirts. Her hair was usually pulled back into a sensible ponytail while she helped cook and entertain guests around the house with her mother. She was a natural at entertaining.
However, at the pub, she wore a sundress which consisted of layers of flimsy material which lifted and floated in different directions as she sashayed forward. The clinging top left her smooth shoulders bare, the scooped neckline revealing deep cleavage of tanned, olive skin. The fluttering layers of the skirt slid over her smooth legs, stopping well above her knees. The whole thing was cut from shades of blue and silver, making her glow like an ocean breeze.
Milan and Blake were close behind Mia, and one of Marco’s young friends, Brandon, rushed forward to greet her. I bit back a growl as the little punk took her hand and placed it under his arm to escort her outside, his lips tight to her ear as he spoke. Mia’s gaze flicked to mine for a brief second before she laughed at something Brandon had said, then turned to everyone and greeted them all.
“Hi, boys. It’s great to see you’ve brought your friends with you, Marco,” Mia addressed her brother and nodded politely toward his date. Mia was always respectful; no matter how much she hated her brother’s constant change of partners, she was never rude to them.