Page 65 of This Thing of Ours

Gabby held outher hand. “Give me the keys.”

Marco halted in the process of opening the driver’s side door. “I like to drive.”

“But I know where we’re going, and you don’t.”

“Then tell me where we’re going.”

Gabby huffed. Why did men need to make things so difficult? “If Itellyou where we’re going, it won’t be a surprise.”

Marco shrugged. “Then just direct me as we go.”

Gah! That would work, but it was more the principle of the thing by that point. “Or… you can just let me drive.”

He stepped away from the car and over to her. Cupping her neck, his thumbs rubbed against her jaw as he said, “Streghetta, I like to drive. I need to be in control.”

Gabby lost sight of Marco as she rolled her eyes. “Fine, I’ll just tell you where to go.”

“Thank you, cara mia.”

He kissed her forehead before releasing her, and she put a little extra stomp in her step as she made her way around the car to the passenger side. She also might have slammed her door harder than necessary.

She glanced over at Marco who was clipping his seat belt and saw his lips twitch. “If you laugh, I swear to God, I’ll ditch the place we’re going and take you where I originally planned to go.”

One of his brows lifted. “Why does that sound like a threat? Where did you plan to take me?”

Gabby crossed her arms over her chest. “A male strip club.”

His other brow met up with the first. “You were going to take me to a male strip club?”

She shrugged. “Figured the place would be full of mostly women, lowering the odds of our night ending on its usual note. Then I thought about all the half-naked men and decided it wasn’t such a good idea after all.”

Marco turned over the ignition, and the engine roared to life. “Smart.”

He backed out of the garage, and while the door rolled closed, Gabby said, “Get on the freeway and get off on Sahara.”

She gave him directions as he drove, the radio playing softly in the background until they reached their destination.

Marco barked out a laugh. “Putt-Putt Golf?”

She gave his suit a smirk. “Yep. And why I told you to dress casually. You’re going to stand out.” Not that he wouldn’t have anyway. Just his hunkiness alone set him apart from the crowd. “Wait, do you even own any casual clothes?” If he did, she’d yet to see him in them.

He shrugged, “I own a few pairs of sweats and some t-shirts.”

“What about jeans? You have to own a pair of jeans.”

He shook his head, and her mouth fell open. He placed a finger under her chin and closed it. “Careful, you’ll catch flies.”

“I… I… Who doesn’t own a pair of jeans?” They were a staple, like milk, bread, butter,jeans.

“By the look on your face, apparently no one but me.” He opened his car door. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”

Gabby got out and slammed her door. “It’s an attitude like that, that will have me kicking your butt at Putt-Putt.”

His eyes drifted to the entrance. “Fuck me.”

Gabby followed his gaze, noting the colorful banners waving on the breeze and all the kids milling around, and laughed. She scooped up his hand, and they started walking.

Or to be more precise, she started walking, and Marco reluctantly followed.

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