Page 80 of This Thing of Ours

“I’m worried, Marco.”

“Nothing to be worried about.”

“I’m worried I won’t see you again.”

The unease in his gut grew. “Tell me you love me.”

“You know I do.”

“I need the words.”

There was a small hitch to her voice as she said, “I love you,” and he wanted to reach through the phone and touch her. No, fuck that, he wanted to go to her. Wanted to hold her and never let go.

“I’m just a phone call away.” He wasn’t sure if he was reassuring her or himself.

“You’ll call me in the morning?”

“Yes.”

“Promise?”

He’d never known her to be so insecure, and the ball of unease in his stomach grew. “I promise, cara mia, as soon as I get up.”

“Okay.”

He heard Fred bark in the background. “Do me a favor, double check everything’s locked up before you get in bed.”

“I will.”

“All the windows. Even the ones on the second floor.”

A laugh came over the line, and he was happy to hear it. “You’ve seen the size of this house. It would be morning before I got it done.”

“Just do it,” he growled over the line.

“Yes, sir.”

He smirked. “I like the sound of that.”

She chuckled. “You would.”

“Tell me you love me.”

“I already did.”

“Say it again.”

She sighed as if he were putting her out. “Fine. I love you.”

He smiled and for the first time since the shooting, the churning in his gut lessened. “I love you, too.”

He clicked off the phone as Nico approached. “Everything okay?” he asked, gesturing to the phone he’d just slipped into his pocket.

“I forgot it was fucking New Year’s.”

Nico nodded. “Yeah, Olivia called while I was in the car. Did the whole countdown thing while I was on the line.”

A guy in coveralls appeared and threw a large black trash bag into the dumpster. It landed with a clanging of glass. Nico must be paying a fuckload to have a clean-up crew come out on a holiday.

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