Page 64 of This Thing of Ours

He bopped her on the nose with the tip of his finger. “Perfect.”

Alone time with her always was.

“Dad!” Gabriella shoutedas she entered the hospital room, gaining her mom and dad’s eyes. Dona looked tired but happy. Vincenzo looked cranky, yet—Marco was glad to note—healthy.

Vincenzo frowned, eyeing Gabriella’s empty hands. “Where are my donuts?”

Gabriella pointed a thumb over her shoulder. “Marco wouldn’t stop.”

Annnd that’s what it felt like to get thrown under a bus. He nodded to his don. “Sir.”

He didn’t get the dirty look he was expecting. Instead, Vincenzo turned to his wife and daughter and said, “Can you give Marco and I a minute.” It wasn’t a question.

Ever obedient, Dona stood, taking her daughter’s arm. They exited the room without complaint, but Marco did receive a concerned look from Gabriella as she passed.

Marco kept his expression blank, he had a feeling Vincenzo wanted to talk to him about awhonot a what—more specifically the who, who had just left the room—so was surprised when he said, “I wanted to thank you.”

“Sir?” he questioned.

“For saving my life.”

Marco’s back stiffened, and he started to protest, but Vincenzo raised a hand for silence.

“Never in a million years did I think I’d get trapped by my own fucking desk. The whole room was on fire. If you hadn’t come when you did—”

“Then someone else would have saved you. Firemen were only a few minutes behind me,” Marco countered, uncomfortable with the praise. It was he who owed Vincenzo, not the other way around. Nico might have rescued him from his old life, but his don had made him family.

“And those few minutes might have been too late. I didn’t get where I am today by not being grateful to those who give their loyalty.”

Marco bowed his head staring at but not seeing the floor between his feet. Instead, he remembered a room full of flames. The heat blistering to the skin and the smoke so thick it hurt to take a deep breath. A pained yell, catching his attention, buried beneath a pile of rubble made of hundred-year-old heavy oak that had his muscles straining to dislodge it from its source. The sense of urgency as he struggled while feeling deadly, molten fingers taunting him from every direction.

“Son?”

Marco raised his head, knowing he had to say something. “I would do it again, in a heartbeat and without hesitation.”

“Well, knock on…” Vincenzo’s eyes scanned his surroundings. “No wood in this fucking sterile shithole.” He sighed. “Well, let’s just pray it never comes to that.”

“Yes, sir.” Marco was in full agreement with that statement.

Sitting up straighter and giving him a deadly glare, Vincenzo said, “Now we have a couple more matters to discuss. What’s this I hear about you and my daughter? But first and most importantly, where the fuck are my donuts?”

Marco took Gabriellahome, stopping along the way at a drugstore to get a heating pad and some chocolate—he’d Googled that shit at the hospital, and while he could only find what would help during a woman’s period, he figured that was close enough. He got her situated on the couch—heating pad plugged in, chocolate within reach, pillows fluffed, and TV remote at the ready—then ordered Chinese. After eating, she snuggled into him during the second half of the movie. He enjoyed holding her and listening to her laugh more than the show. All-in-all he thought their day had gone really well, and he was doubly proud of himself for not punching the delivery guy when he eyed his girl.

Baby steps.

Chapter Twenty-Three

After his firsttwo failed attempts, Marco had left it up to Gabby to pick the destination for their third date. And after pondering long and hard, trying to think of someplace that would be fun but with a low risk of a violent confrontation—AKA low male population—she’d finally figured out the perfect place. Although the process had been more difficult than she’d thought it would be.

Her first idea had been a male strip club, thinking the mostly female clientele would give Marco a better edge of success. But then she had second thoughts, remembering his reaction to her teeny-tiny obsession with skintight superhero suits and figured he’d flip his lid if she accidentally drooled while watching mostly naked men prancing on stage.

Her first idea had then led her to her second—a female strip club. With the reasoning that although the clientele would be ninety-nine percent men, they would be so preoccupied with the show—not to mention the skimpily clad waitstaff—they wouldn’t pay Gabby a second—or even a first—look. But then nixed that idea when she thought aboutherflipping her lid if Marco accidentally drooled a little while watching naked women strut their stuff.

So a destination where people got naked was definitely off the table. But that had her thinking. Why not go to the complete opposite end of the spectrum to somewhere mostly children hung out. And that’s when she remembered the perfect place. A place she’d taken a few of her younger cousins to the previous summer and surprisingly had a really good time.

But sadly, in all her careful planning, she’d forgotten one thing.

Kids have dads.

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