Page 66 of This Thing of Ours

“You do knowit’s not the highest but the lowest score that wins, right?”

Gabby was leaning over her ball, lining up her shot, but she took the time to look up and over at Marco’s smug expression to shoot him a tight smile. “Hardy-har-har. Maybe you should give up your life of crime and become a comedian.”

“And trade blood stains for tomato stains? I think not.” Marco gave his golf club a twirl, and it came to rest on his shoulder. The casual move was elegantly executed.

Her eyes slanted. “Hang on. Have you played this before?” It would explain the two hole-in-ones he’d managed to land, and they were only on the fourth hole.

He grinned. “Are you accusing me of something?”

She stood up straight and put a hand on her hip. “Should I be?”

He chuckled. “Believe it or not. I’ve never played before. Must be beginner’s luck.”

Before she could argue there was no such thing, two preteen girls came giggling up to their hole. A man in his mid-thirties—presumably one of the girls’ father—arrived just behind them.

Marco tipped his head. “Ladies.”

That started another round of giggles from the Peppy Twins. Not that Gabby blamed them. She felt like giggling like a loon around Marco all the time, too. Well, when he wasn’t kicking her butt at Putt-Putt golf that was.

Gabby picked up her ball. “Do you guys want to go ahead of us? We’re kind of slow.”

She directed her question to the dad, so he replied, “We’re not in a rush.”

“We’re fine,” both the girls said almost in unison before taking a seat on the stone bench designated for waiting parties, never taking their eyes off Marco.

Marco moved closer, so he was now directly across from her on the putting green and no longer on the sidewalk. “Take your turn, cara mia.”

Gabby set her ball back down and lined up her club. She looked at the hole in the distance, willed her ball to land somewhere in its vicinity at the very least, and gave it a whack. It went sailing. Up over the giant hump in the middle of the green, past the hole, and up over the small curb of the sidewalk to land in the grass at the bank of the man-made lake.

She sent up a small prayer that it hadn’t actually landed in the water.

Marco kissed her temple, laughter in his voice as he said, “I’ll get it.”

The giggling grew louder behind her, and she looked over her shoulder, first at the girls and then at the dad. He was smiling. Feeling her cheeks heat, she asked, “You sure you guys don’t want to go ahead of us?”

All three shook their heads, and Gabby got the impression they thought she was more entertaining than their golf game.

Gabby shrugged and watched Marco walk back to her, a grin on his face and her ball in his hand. “It was only a couple of inches from the water. You were lucky it didn’t go in.”

Gabby snatched her ball out of his hand. “If I were lucky, it would’ve landed in the hole.” Gabby placed her ball back on the ground.

“Maybe don’t hit it quite so hard this time.”

He was smirking, and Gabby wanted to bash him over the head with her golf club. She gave him a tight smile instead. “I wanted to make sure it went over the hump.”

He’d toned down the smirk, but it still played on his lips when he said, “Just remember how hard you swung last time and take it down a notch.” Then, under his breath, he muttered, “Or ten.”

If there weren’t children around, she would’ve flipped him off, as they were, she only said, “You should feel very lucky we have an audience.”

“I thought we’ve already established how lucky I am?”

Gabby leaned forward, so she wasn’t overheard. “Keep it up, and your luck will run out by the time we get home tonight.”

His eyes softened, and he gave her a genuine smile. “I like that.”

She raised her brows. “You like not getting lucky?”

He shook his head. “That you called my place home.”

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