Page 75 of This Thing of Ours

Her fingers reached for it, but he closed his hand before she could snatch it. “I get to slide it on.”

He took hold of her left hand and slid the ring on her finger. A perfect fit. He looked up at her with a smile. Tears still streamed down her cheeks. “Hey, a Conti never cries, remember.”

She gave him a watery smile. “Happy tears. We’re allowed happy tears.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Exactly one weeklater, Marco and Gabby were back at Nico and Olivia’s for a New Year’s Eve BBQ and fireworks show. Hand-in-hand, they walked around the side of the house, Fred out in front, following the sounds of a party already in progress coming from the backyard. Though Gabby wasn’t sure one could classify Nico’s backyard abackyardas it encompassed more area than the eye could see. With a covered patio, pool area, guest house, and farther out, a tennis court. Gabby had been told there was even a mini-golf course, though she had never ventured out far enough to see it.

The day was beautiful for being so late in December. Chilly, so no pool time, but the sun was shining with enough warmth they could hang outdoors. Speaking of which, Gabby could already smell the smoker hard at work. She wasn’t sure what was on the menu, but it was making her stomach growl.

“Gabby!” Olivia came rushing up to them, excitement dancing in her eyes. “Let me see!” She grabbed Gabby’s hand to look at her ring.

She’d talked with Olivia on the phone but hadn’t seen her since Christmas. In fact, Gabby and Marco hadn’t seen anyone they knew that past week. Holed up in the condo spending equal time watching TV and making love, they’d become a couple of hermits who’d barely bothered to get dressed except when they’d snuck out to the grocery store to buy some food when they’d grown tired of takeout.

She’d done the cooking. Marco hadn’t been lying about only knowing how to cook the basics, so it’d been up to her if they’d wanted anything other than dried pasta and jar sauce—a meal that would have her nonna turning in her grave if it passed Gabby’s lips. As she’d liked to say, no respectable Italian woman used sauce from a jar. And as a good Italian boy, Marco had gushed over her cooking even when Gabby had accidentally burned the garlic bread.

And though Gabby was excited to get out and once again join society, she would miss the peaceful seclusion she and Marco had shared. It had been a week of perfection that she hoped was a sneak peek into what their married life would be like.

Had she known it would be the calm right before the storm, she would have cherished that time a little more.

Standing with agroup of women, Gabby watched Marco approach, wine cooler in one hand, beer in the other, a smile lifting his lips. A smirk tugged at hers as she enjoyed the view. Marco looked great in his jeans. Soft denim, snug at his hips and thighs. Pair that with the black, vee-neck, cashmere sweater he wore and he was a sight to behold. He made casual look good. The sigh emitted from the woman beside her told Gabby she wasn’t the only one who’d noticed.

“You’re one lucky bitch, you know that?”

Gabby eyed the woman, Christy or Chrissy, she couldn’t remember. What she did know was she was Ricky’s flavor of the month and a different woman from the one she’d last seen him with a few weeks before. What she also knew was she didn’t like the gleam in her eye as she watched Marco. It gave her a new appreciation for Marco’s reaction to her and other men.

“Excuse me.” Gabby stepped away from the group and met Marco before he could draw near. She latched onto his arm, pulling him in the opposite direction.

Marco raised an inquiring brow. “Problem?”

“Let’s just say, I don’t find your jealousy as foolish as I once did.”

“And what’s brought on this change of heart?” He handed over the wine cooler, and she nodded her thanks.

“Christy,” she all but spat.

Marco looked confused for a second before he said, “Oh, you mean Chrissy?”

“And how do you know her name?” She knew she was acting irrational, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself, nor to be honest, did she want to.

Marco took a tiny step back, holding up his hands in surrender, the fingers of one hand splayed, the other still holding his beer. “Ricky talks about her a lot. I think he really likes this one.”

“Well, he should be warned. She has roving eyes.”

Marco chuckled. “And you,” he inched forward so he was in her personal bubble, “look very becoming in that particular shade of green.”

Gabby narrowed her eyes. “Don’t get too cocky. You were wearing this particular shade not too long ago, yourself.”

He nodded. “I’m not ashamed to admit I was. I’m also not ashamed to admit, seeing you jealous is making my dick hard.”

Gabby rolled her eyes. “Everything makes your dick hard.”

He took a swig of his beer. “Only when I’m around you.”

Gabby followed suit, taking a sip of her wine cooler. She liked it and took a look at the label. Wild cherry. “Well, I’ll have to take your word for that since I can’t prove otherwise when you’re not around.”

He chuckled then tipped his head back, taking another swig of his beer.

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