Page 49 of This Thing of Ours

“My behavior. I shouldn’t have used violence in front of you.”

Her eyes went big, and she parted her lips to speak, but he beat her to it.

“I saw the look of disgust on your face after I hit that guy. I realize you know what I do for The Family but seeing it in action is different than on paper.” He wasn’t looking at her, his gaze transfixed on the floor between his splayed feet.

“Marco,” she said his name softly and took a step forward.

“Stop.”

She froze again. He’d snapped his head up to look at her, and his expression was heartbreaking.

“I’ve known violence my entire life. Growing up, my father taught with his fists rather than words. It comes to me easily—naturally. But I want you to know… No, I need you to know, I would never lay a hand on you in anger.”

Her jaw dropped, and she sucked in a breath before saying, “You think I don’t know that? If I thought for one second you would ever physically hurt me, in any way, I wouldn’t be standing here right now. I don’t know what you saw, but if there was a look of disgust on my face, it wasn’t directed at you, but at that guy for being an asshole. If you ask me, he deserved far worse than what you gave him.”

His lips quirked. “I didn’t realize you were so bloodthirsty.”

Her lips tipped up in return, happy to see his good humor restored, and shrugged. “Guess it’s in the genes.”

She went to him then, and he didn’t stop her that time. She got as close as she dared. He still looked stiff, as if something else bothered him.

She stared at the band of white gauze circling his arm, tracing its edge with a light touch. “Does it still hurt?”

If anything, he seemed to grow more rigid at her question. “No.”

His head was bowed, watching her finger, and she dipped her head to look him in the eyes. “What’s wrong?”

She sensed his inner struggle. As if he wanted to say something but was hesitant or didn’t know how to say it.

Finally, he spoke. “Nico said something the other day, and I can’t get it out of my head.”

He paused, and she kept her silence, waiting for him to continue.

“He said he wanted better than this world for you. And I’m conflicted because I want that for you, too—you deserve better than this life—but I want you so fucking bad, I would do almost anything to keep you, and that makes me a selfish asshole.”

“Almost anything?”

He looked at her, seriousness filling his eyes with an intensity she’d never seen before. “I’ll never leave The Family. I won’t forsake the oath I took. So that means you’ll constantly be in danger. You should have a better life than that. Find somegoodguy, live in a house with a white picket fence, and have a crapload of kids. You should have a safe, happy life, and you’ll never get that with me.”

There was so much in that short speech she needed to address, she wasn’t quite sure where to start. Irked that Nico was sticking his nose into her business, she decided to tackle that issue first. “What you and Nico seem to be forgetting is I’m already a part of this life. Just being born into it put me in danger. I wasn’t kidnapped because of you, I was taken because of The Family. Choosing agoodguy won’t keep me safe, in fact, I’d imagine I’d be in more danger not having a tough guy to protect me.”

A bit of hope entered his eyes as though he’d never thought of it that way.

She pressed her point. “I’m not asking you to turn your back on The Family. IamFamily. Marco,” she said softly, grabbing his attention more fully than if she’d shouted from the rooftops. “I want youbecauseof who you are, not in spite of it.”

She wasn’t expecting his sudden movement. One second they were standing at the counter, the next, he had her, back flat, on the breakfast bar, his mouth on hers. His hands dove into her hair, holding her head still as he took her mouth, eating at it as if he were starving. Their tongues tangled. Their teeth clashed.

It was raw.

It was messy.

It was divine.

His legs fell between hers, hiking her dress over her hips. Gabby grabbed his biceps, feeling all his strength and power through the thin cotton of his shirt.

He ground himself into her, the loose fabric of his slacks unable to hide his arousal. Tingles slid down her legs, up her torso, down her arms, and she found herself grinding back against him.

He groaned, and the sound sent signals to her core, heating her until she felt if she didn’t get some relief soon, she’d burst into flames.

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