Attending my first Sunday dinner at Mama C’s would have been far more daunting had I not just had the best weekend of my entire life. Vinnie’s singular attention and pampering had done wonders for reducing my overall anxiety. My body was still humming with aftershocks, and Vinnie-induced endorphins had me feeling mildly euphoric.

I was still a little anxious about going to Mama C’s, though. The significance of having been invited to the weekly family dinner wasn’t lost on me. According to Kat, it was kind of a declaration of intent. I didn’t want to screw that up by saying or doing something to embarrass myself, or more importantly, Vinnie. I already knew I was falling hard for the big galoot, and when I looked forward, I just couldn’t envision my life without him in it. Since Vinnie’s family was such an integral part of his life, it followed that it would be part of mine and Joel’s, too.

Big, close-knit, Italian families like Vinnie’s weren’t something I was personally familiar with. I mean, I’d seen the Godfather several times, and that was the closest thing I had to a point of reference. Joel was able to provide some insight by working at the family-owned and operated restaurant, but he seemed just as mystified by the close-knit dynamics as I was. Neither one of us had experience with that sort of thing. I thought—hoped—it would work out well for both of us.

In addition to feeling physically and emotionally replete, knowing I would see some friendly faces also helped keep the anxiety at bay. Kat and Nick were going to be there, as well as Gina and Val and Sofia, if she wasn’t working. Mr. Cerasino, too, who insisted that I call him Nonno. And of course, Joel. Dom was bringing him and Ramona right to the restaurant.

“Stop looking at me like that,” I commanded Vinnie, though secretly absolutely loving it. He made me feel as if I was the most desirable woman in the world to him. That, too, was something I wasn’t accustomed to. No one had ever looked at me the way Vinnie did. Guys flirted with me occasionally, sure, but this was something different. Something that went far deeper than garden-variety hots. There was hunger in his gaze. Worship. Love.

I knew, because, that was exactly the way I felt about him.

In a way, I hoped I never did get used to it, because then I would forget how incredibly special it was. Just a look from those dark eyes and I was tempted to forget the dinner and spend our quickly dwindling alone time doing something else.

“I like looking at you.” He grinned unapologetically, and that made it even worse.

I had always thought he had an amazing smile, and now that I knew firsthand what he could do with those lips ...

Yep, it was official. I was totally gone for this guy.

“I like looking at you, too,” I said, “but I don’t want to be late. First impressions are important, and I want your family’s first impression of me to be a good one.”

He got out of the bed, the picture of masculine, athletic grace, and I stopped breathing for a few seconds as he made his way over to me. That’s what he did to me. It was almost embarrassing. Probably would have been, if I didn’t see how watching me get ready wearing nothing but his shirt affected him, too.

“They are going to love you,” he said emphatically. “Stop worrying.”

“But what if they don’t?” I blurted out. I wasn’t sure where that came from; I usually kept those deep-seated insecurities well-hidden. I could only surmise that his nakedness had not only decimated my sexual inhibitions, but my personal filters, as well.

“They will.” He cupped my face and kissed me soundly. Then he palmed my backside with his large hand, and I felt him lengthening further against my hip.

“Is that a night stick, Officer, or are you just happy to see me?”

“Don’t change the subject,” he chastised, punctuating that with a light tap on my backside before lifting me upward so I could wrap my legs around him. “Besides, this is just a formality. Nonno is never wrong. If he says we belong together, they’ve already accepted you.”

“And what do you say?” I mused aloud.

“I say, he’s batting a thousand.”

Because Vinnie was a man who believed actions spoke louder than words, he spent the next fifteen minutes enthusiastically showing rather than telling. By the time we walked out the door, we really were running late, but as I was still reeling, I barely noticed.