Page 33 of Lonely Heart

“Yes, but what if I’d chosen one of the other two?” he countered.

I glanced down at them. “They weren’t bad, either.”

Marco sent me an incredulous look. “You didn’t see your face when I pointed to the first of those three choices.”

I winced, pressing my lips together. Of the options available to us, Marco had indicated what were his top three choices, and while my pick was in there, the first he’d pointed out to me wasn’t something I’d ever choose. Apparently, I wasn’t so good at hiding my distaste. “Sorry.”

He chuckled. “Don’t be sorry. Be glad I was smart enough to ask you instead of believing I could do it on my own.”

“Fair enough.” I waved my hand toward the empty plate in front of me. “Thanks again for bringing dinner. You totally didn’t need to do that.”

Shrugging, he reasoned, “We needed to eat, and I didn’t think it was fair to make you cook.”

“I don’t mind cooking. Are you sure you weren’t worried I might make something unappetizing?”

Marco continued to be amused by me. “You know how to cook. I’ve been attending parties and celebrations with your family for as long as I can remember. And I know I’ve had dishes made by you.”

“Maybe those dishes were the ones you didn’t particularly like.”

He sighed, his head shifting from side to side. “That’s not the case. But if you’re up for it, I’m happy to prove you wrong.”

My brows shot up. “Oh? How so?”

Grinning, he said, “It’s Thursday. Invite me for dinner this weekend, and I’ll prove I’m not afraid to eat anything you cook.”

When Marco had been standing in front of me at the hotel earlier today, I had anticipated him coming here for twenty minutes, so I could help him select tiles. Not only had he already been here for more than thirty minutes, brought me dinner, and promised to help me move furniture, but now he was also solidifying a return trip.

It took everything I had inside me to remain calm and not show how I was truly feeling, not let him know that the flutters I’d felt in my belly earlier today had returned with a vengeance. “Okay. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Is that my invite? Because I didn’t hear an actual invitation.”

I rolled my eyes. “Would you like to come over and have dinner with me on Saturday evening?”

His grin grew, and I couldn’t help but notice just how handsome he was when he smiled like that. “I’d love to join you for dinner. What time would you like me to get here?”

“How does six o’clock work for you?”

“You’ve got yourself a date, Princess.”

My mouth went dry, my breath catching in my lungs. Was this real?

Maybe he was just being silly, but Marco had just called what we were going to have on Saturday night a date. It had been years since anyone had asked me out on a date. Technically, I’d been the one to invite him, but it was only because he’d insisted. Not only that, but he’d also just called me princess.

Princess.

Why did that feel so good? The flush crept over my skin as warmth flooded my body. I was merely grateful to be sitting down, because my knees were weak, and the flutter in my chest left me feeling breathless.

That single word, the entire phrase, made me want to crawl across the table and curl up in his lap.

Whether he recognized why I was reacting the way I was or not, I didn’t know. But I was relieved Marco decided to break the tense silence that had stretched between us. With a sly grin, he asked, “So, what room are you looking to rearrange?”

Swallowing hard, I squirmed in my seat to distract myself from what I’d been feeling and return my focus to the conversation. “Well, I had been planning to start with the living room.”

“As much as I’d be content to sit here with you for a few more hours, if we’re going to get any of that accomplished, we should probably get up and get to work.”

My belly flipped.

Hours.

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