Page 48 of This Thing of Ours

A new song started playing, drawing his attention, something that had been popular and over played a few years back. It had a snappy tune, but the beat wasn’t overly fast.

Gabriella must have recognized it, too, because her eyes lit, and she blurted, “I love this song. Let's dance."

"Cara mia, I don't dance."

Her smile dimmed. "Oh. Well, that's okay."

She tried to hide it, but he saw her disappointment. He would do anything to remove that look from her face.

Including dance.

"If you're willing to have me step on your toes, I'm willing to give it a try."

A bright smile transformed her features and a sweet, "Thank you," fell from her lips.

And there it was, his reward.

Keeping a tight hold on her, he shouldered them through the mass of bodies on the way to the dance floor where Gabriella showed him a few basic moves. He tried to mimic them, but after a couple of pathetic attempts that had left her in tears from laughing so hard, he gave up, pulling her into his arms to just sway to the music.

She smiled up at him. He gazed down at her. And it didn’t matter they weren’t dancing to the beat of the music—even when one song transitioned to the next—because he had her in his arms, and they created their own rhythm.

“What the fuck?” Marco exclaimed when Gabriella was unexpectedly ripped from his arms.

The asshole from earlier had a hold of her with his head tipped back, laughing as he twirled her around.

Panic mingled with determination lined Gabriella’s face as she struggled in the guy’s hold.

“Let me show you how a real man dances, sweetheart.”

Scratch what he’d said earlier, the guy wasn’t a moron, he was a fucking dead man.

In two steps, Marco was upon them. In one fluid move, he grabbed the back of the guy’s head by his hair, yanked to expose his throat, and punched, hitting his Adam’s apple.

The guy instantly dropped to his knees then fell to his back, clutching at his throat and opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. And just like that fish, the asshole wasn’t getting any air.

Marco smirked.

Commotion ensued as the guy’s friends rushed to his aid, yelling some nonsense that Marco wasn’t paying attention to because he’d turned all his on Gabriella and the look of horror that had transformed her features.

And, in that moment, he knew, their perfect date had just spiraled down the shitter.

Chapter Eighteen

Marco hadn’t saida word since they’d left the club, and Gabby was starting to worry. She’d tried toinitiateconversation twice on the drive back to Marco’s place but had given it up as a futile effort. His head was somewhere far away, and Gabby didn’t know how to get there.

Fred, excited to see them, darted out the sliding door before Marco had even finished opening it. He jumped up on her legs and Gabby took a hasty step back, steadying herself on her heels. Growing at an alarming rate, his front paws reached her thighs when he stretched. Pretty soon he’d be taller than she was. She cradled his face, scratching behind his ears.

“You should start teaching him to stay down. He’ll be big enough to knock you over soon.”

Surprised by Marco’s sudden announcement after his long silence, Gabby wasn’t sure what to say that wouldn’t upset him more so only nodded.

She stayed on the patio while Marco disappeared into the house waiting for Fred to do his business. He sniffed the bases of two potted trees before settling on the raised flower bed. Guilt raced through her, and she promised herself she’d take him on a nice long walk in the morning, so he could pee on a real bush.

She followed Fred back into the house and found Marco in the kitchen, leaning against the counter. His jacket and tie were missing, and the sleeves of his pale-gray dress shirt had been rolled up his forearms. His hands braced the counter on either side of his hips, the knuckles white from his firm grip.

He seemed lost in thought, and she didn’t think he’d noticed her, until he spoke. “I need to apologize.”

She stopped in her tracks, cocking her head to the side. “For what?”

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