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listen, I wanna take a picture with you to hang on the wall.”
    “ Me? ”
    Michael chuckled. “Yeah, you. It’s not every day that a famous violinist visits my restaurant—”
    Taylor laughed. “I wouldn’t say I’m famous.”
    “You’re kidding, right? You’ve performed at the White House, Carnegie Hall and Buckingham Palace. Trust me—you’re famous.” Michael grinned at Aidan. “You don’t mind if I borrow her for a minute, do you?”
    Aidan looked like he minded very much, but he pressed his lips together and reluctantly nodded his consent.
    “Good man. Darien will take care of you,” Michael promised, signaling to their waiter. “You want some appetizers? Order anything you want off the menu—everything’s on the house. I’ll have your meals brought out the second Taylor returns.”
    Before Aidan could change his mind, Michael grabbed Taylor’s hand and began leading her from the table.
    “We’ll get our picture taken in the foyer and outside under the restaurant sign,” he told her.
    “All right.”
    As they moved through the dining room, Taylor didn’t miss the blatantly envious looks other women were giving her. “You must be trying to get me killed,” she whispered jokingly to Michael.
    He slanted her a grin. “Aidan won’t kill you.”
    “I wasn’t talking about him, but now that you mention it…”
    Michael laughed, turning down a corridor near the back of the restaurant. “We’ll take the pictures in a minute. But first…I’ve got a surprise for you.”
     

 
     
     

5
     
     
    Fifteen minutes earlier
     
     
    R aucous male laughter greeted Manning as he reached the entrance to the private room he’d reserved for tonight’s dinner meeting with his brothers. They were already gathered around the table swigging beers and stuffing their faces with appetizers.
    As Manning strode into the room, he encountered four pairs of eyes set in faces that were strikingly similar to his own.
    “Well, well, well,” Montana Wolf drawled. “Look who finally decided to grace us with his presence.”
    “Twenty minutes late,” Magnum pointed out.
    Mason snorted. “And he had the nerve to threaten me if I was late. Guess I’ll be kicking his ass this— Ouch!” he protested as Manning slapped the back of his cornrowed head.
    “Didn’t your mama teach you to respect your elders?” Manning quipped as the others burst out laughing.
    “ Elder my ass,” Mason grumbled with a surly grin.
    Chuckling, Manning dropped into the empty chair next to Maddox, the only one who hadn’t given him a hard time. Grabbing the cold beer that had been left for him, he offered, “Sorry I’m late. My last meeting ran over.”
    Magnum grunted. “Yeah, well, we went ahead and ordered without you. I’m starving.”
    “When aren’t you starving?” Manning retorted, taking a swig of beer.
    “Hey, don’t blame me. I work hard for a living.”
    “What you tryna say?” Mason interjected from across the table. “The rest of us don’t work hard?”
    “Not as hard as I do,” Magnum countered, leaning back in his chair with one long leg stretched out in a posture of lazy insolence. He wore dark Timbs, baggy cargo pants and a white Atlanta Fire Department T-shirt that revealed muscular biceps decorated with tattoos.
    “No offense, fellas,” Magnum drawled, “but fighting fires and rescuing people from burning buildings is more labor-intensive than playing the sax at smoky jazz clubs filled with pretty women—”
    Montana frowned at the slight.
    “—or writing horror novels that give your poor mama nightmares—”
    Maddox’s eyes narrowed menacingly.
    “—or racing up and down a field catching footballs—”
    Mason scowled in disbelief.
    “—or running a Fortune 500 company.” Magnum smiled at Manning, then cast a languid glance around the table. “No offense.”
    The four affronted brothers glared at him, then erupted with loud exclamations of, “Get the fuck outta here!”
    Magnum