This Thing of Ours (The Gamblers Spin-off Novel)

by Sarah Curtis

  Gabby raised her free hand and used it to cover the one Nico had on her arm, giving it a squeeze in gratitude. Knowing Marco was out of surgery, she didn’t want to waste another minute not being with him.

  She wasn’t prepared for the sight that greeted her—tubes coming out of Marco’s arm and hooked up to formidable looking monitors that made disturbing sounds. Nico didn’t let go of her until he sat her in a chair at Marco’s bedside. She scooted it forward until she was close enough to reach his hand, sandwiching it between her own. The skin was chilled, but her hands were almost as cold, and she didn’t think she’d be successful in warming it.

  Nico moved to the other side of the bed and stood, hands clutching the guardrail, his knuckles turning white from the force of his grip.

  And that’s how they stayed, for what felt like hours, silently watching and waiting for Marco to rouse.

  During that time a nurse popped in, fiddled with one of the machines and checked Marco’s pulse. Gabby asked if she knew when he would wake up, and she replied that it could be any minute. But that any minute turned into many more.

  “Why isn’t he waking up?” Gabby whispered, not daring to speak louder, worried voicing her fears would jinx something.

  Nico sighed. “I don’t know, polpetta. We just need to give the anesthetic time to wear off.”

  Gabby felt like it should’ve done so by now. What if something was wrong? What if Greene missed something?

  Nico’s phone beeped, and he pulled it from his pocket to check it. “It’s Olivia. I’ll be back.”

  Gabby nodded, barely paying attention, her mind having gone on a wild tangent of what ifs. “Please wake up.”

  She stood, wanting to get closer, letting go of his hand with one of hers but still holding on with the other. The guardrail hindered her progress, but she didn’t want to release his hand to try to figure out how to lower it. Instead, she ended up leaning against it. “You never knew about this, but when I was eighteen, the captain of our school’s football team, Billy Thornton, asked me to prom. And even though it had been six months, I was still so heartbroken at seeing you with that woman on my birthday, I’d said yes.

  “Mom was so excited. I never dated, and she couldn’t wait to take me dress shopping. She dragged me to so many stores. Nothing was right. But then she found it. The perfect dress. It was beautiful. Dark gray silk. A halter-style top with a plunging neckline that Dad hated. The skirt fell in panels to mid-knee. I loved it. And the shoes we found to go with it were so pretty. Plumb velvet with a peek-a-boo toe and a crystal rhinestone strap that clasped around the ankle. The heels were so high, I had to practice walking around in them for days.

  “I’d planned to sleep with him that night. Stupid, I know. But he was handsome and popular with all the girls, so I figured he’d know what he was doing, and it wouldn’t be horrible. I’d convinced myself it was okay to settle for second best.

  “In hindsight, I’m glad that fate intervened. He called the day of. Said he’d been in a car accident the night before and was pretty banged up. I saw him in school the following week, his face had still been a mess but healing. Funny, but he avoided me after that. Guess he felt bad about standing me up at the last minute.”

  “That fucker had a mean right hook.” Marco’s eyes opened into slits and one side of his lips curled up.

  “What?” Gabby’s eyes filled with tears.

  “That car accident was my fist against his face. Couldn’t have the school douche taking out my girl.”

  “But I wasn’t your girl.”

  “To me you were.”

  Gabby blinked rapidly but lost the fight, the tears falling down her cheeks.

  “Hey, come here.”

  Gabby leaned farther over the rail and Marco pulled his hand from hers to cup her face, running his thumb over her cheek, smearing the wetness. “A Conti doesn’t cry, remember?”

  “We’re allowed to cry happy tears.”

  “You’re happy I beat that fucker up?”

  “No, well, maybe, it did prevent me from going out with him, but I’m happier you’re awake. You scared me. I thought I was going to lose you just when I finally had you.”

  His eyes opened farther. They were bloodshot but, to Gabby, they’d never looked more beautiful. “I knew everything would be okay.”

  “How could you have possibly known that?”

  “Because you made me promise it would be, and I never go back on a promise.”

  “Then promise me something now.”

  “Anything.”

  “Promise you’ll love me forever.”

  “Ah, streghetta, I already made that promise the day I made you mine.”

  She shook her head and smiled. “I need the words, amore mio.”

  Marco grinned. “I like that.”

  “What? Me calling you, my love?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I didn’t think you’d be an endearment kind of guy. Thought you’d be too badass for it.”

  “I would have thought that, too, but I really like the sound of it in that sexy voice of yours.”

  “You think I have a sexy voice?”

  “Mmm-hmm.” He closed his eyes and tipped his lips up. “I could listen to you talk all day.” He cracked open one eye and somehow—even lying in a hospital bed fresh from surgery—managed to glare at her with it. “But not stories about dates with asshole football captains that you planned to have sex with.”

  Gabby felt her cheeks heat and said defensively, “I’ve heard somewhere that if you talk to an unconscious person, they respond to your voice.”

  “And that’s the story you picked? Besides, I think that’s for people in comas.”

  “I said, people respond to voices, not words. I didn’t think you’d actually hear the story.”

  “Then why tell it? Why not pick a different story? Unless it was to ease your conscious, in case it ever came up, you could say you told me about it.”

  Gabby pursed her lips. He was too smart for his own good. Instead of admitting he was right, she said, “Why are we even arguing about this. You should be resting.”

  He opened his other eye and raised a brow. “We’re arguing?”

  No. But said, instead, “Yes.” Then with more conviction. “Yes, we are.”

  If a smile came with a warning label, one would be attached to Marco’s. It was that lethal. “Then come closer so I can give you a kiss to make up.”

  That she could do. Bracing a hand on the bed, she leaned over not caring that the railing dug into her hip bones and gave Marco her lips. He took it from there, doing a very thorough job, as usual.

  Coming up for air, feeling slightly dazed, she murmured, “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you never promised to love me forever.”

  “I don’t need to promise,” he murmured back while his lips skimmed her jaw.

  “And why is that?” She subtly shifted her head, giving him better access to her neck.

  He took the hint, kissing his way to her ear. “Because you hold the key to my heart, and I’ll love you until you give it back.”

  Goose bumps tingled down her arms and she answered in a throaty voice, “Then you’ll love me forever because I’ll never let it go.”

  “Good answer.”

  “True answer.”

  “Even better.”

  Nico opened the door of the guestroom. Derek sat up from a lying position on the bed when he stepped in. He didn’t look any worse for wear. A little rumpled maybe—shirt wrinkled and his hair sticking up on one side.

  Nico tossed the manila envelope he carried on the bed. “Your new name is Michael Reed.” Nico watched Derek’s shoulders sag, and a look of relief crossed his face. “You were born in Flagstaff, Arizona to Robert and Silvia Reed. All your IDs, birth certificate, social security card, and even some doctored family photos are in the envelope. Along with twenty grand in cash. Spend it wisely, that’s all you’re getting. The rest is up to you. I don’t want to know where you’re goi
ng, and I never want to hear from you again. Understand?”

  Derek nodded.

  “Good. I’ll call you a cab.” Nico turned to go but stopped when he heard his name called. He looked back over at the bed.

  “Thank you.”

  Nico gave him a curt nod. “Stay safe, Michael.” He walked out of the room and didn’t look back. He had a date with his wife and daughter.

  Epilogue

  Two Months Later

  “Marco, put that down this instant. You know the doctor hasn’t cleared you to lift anything heavy yet.” Gabby rushed from the kitchen where she’d dropped off the bags she’d taken in.

  She’d just gotten home from her part-time job—that she hoped to turn into a full-time one once she graduated—in a trendy boutique that had just opened on a busy section of The Strip. She’d only been working there for a few weeks but already loved it, and the owner, Amy, was super sweet and easy to get along with.

  On the way home from work, she stopped at the grocery store and the few items she needed to pick up for dinner had multiplied into a cartful.

  Marco gave her an exasperated look. “Streghetta, a twelve-pack of soda isn’t heavy.”

  “No, but the fifty pounds of groceries you’re holding in your other hand is.”

  Marco stepped past her and put the bags and the soda on the counter. “It’s twenty pounds at most. I’m fine.”

  “Oh, no you don’t.” She stomped back into the kitchen. “I know what fine means. Fine means you shouldn’t be lifting anything heavy yet.”

  “You mean heavy like you?” Marco made a grab for her, lifting her from under the arms and plopping her on the counter next to the bags of groceries.

  “Marco!”

  “When I said I’m fine, I meant I’m fine.” He accompanied that with an eyebrow wiggle.

  Gabby laughed. “And what’s the new definition of fine, now?”

  “Now, it means, we’re about to get naked, so I can fuck you on this countertop. Sorry, but two months is my limit for waiting to be inside you again.”

  She felt a tingle hit her core. “You do remember my mother likes to pop over unexpectedly.”

  Marco had moved into her place after coming home from the clinic because Doctor Greene hadn’t wanted him navigating stairs. She loved having him in her space and hoped he never planned to leave.

  “I locked the door.”

  She raised her brows. “You had this planned?”

  “I’ve been fantasizing about this countertop for weeks. Every time you bend over to put something in or pull something out of the stove, my dick gets hard. And don’t get me started on what I want to do to you every morning when you reach for a coffee cup from the cabinet and your t-shirt rides up. By the way, I really like the black lace panties you wore the other day.”

  “I’m wearing black again today. With white polka dots.” She pulled him close and wrapped her legs around his waist. “Maybe you’d like to play connect-the-dots.”

  He ran a finger along the waistband of her jeans. “I’d rather play hide-the-snake.”

  Gabby tipped her head back and laughed. And Marco took advantage, swooping in to kiss her neck, and he knew just the right spot that drove her wild.

  His fingers found her waistband again, this time zeroing in on the button. He opened it with a flick and slid the zipper down. “Fuck. I can’t get you naked fast enough.”

  She was antsy, too. “Let me stand up, it’ll be easier.”

  “No. I’m not letting you off this counter. Raise your hips.”

  She braced her hands on the counter and pushed up. With a little struggle, he got her jeans past her hips, nabbing her panties with them, then slid them down her legs.

  She gasped as she sat back down, and laughed, “The tile’s cold.”

  “I’ll warm you up.” He grabbed the hem of her top. “Raise your arms.”

  She did, and he peeled her shirt off then made fast work of her bra, sliding the straps down her arms and tossing it on the floor with the rest of her clothes.

  Goose bumps lined her arms and her nipples puckered. “You planning on warming me up soon?”

  “I don’t know. I kind of like the effect it has on these.” He cupped her breasts and dipped to capture one of her nipples in his mouth.

  She grabbed at his shoulders, tipping back so he wouldn’t need to lean over too far. Counter sex maybe wasn’t the best choice for their first go after his surgery. “Are you sure you wouldn’t be more comfortable in bed?”

  “If you’re still worrying, that means I’m not doing a good enough job distracting you.”

  His fingers found her opening at the same time his mouth latched on to her other nipple. He sucked and pumped, and she was a goner, all thoughts flying from her head. Her head fell back farther and hit the cabinet door. It didn’t hurt, but it made a loud noise.

  Marco raised his head. “You okay?”

  “Yes, don’t stop!”

  She heard his chuckle before it became muffled as his mouth took a detour up the line of her neck to the spot right behind her ear. “The things I want to do to you. As soon as I’m fully recovered, I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll see stars, but for now, I’m going to take it nice and slow. Drag it out until you’re begging me to make you come.”

  Both ways sounded awesome, and she let him know that. “It’s always perfect. Fast or slow, just having you in my arms is heaven.”

  He stopped all action, above and below, then took a step back to cradle her face and look her right in the eye. “Cara mia, you’re my whole world. I was blessed the day you came into it. Love you so fuckin’ much.”

  He meant that. Looking into his eyes, she knew he meant every single word. Tears filled her eyes, one escaping to slide down her cheek.

  His thumb swiped it away before it could get too far. “Hey, a Conti doesn’t cry, remember?”

  “Happy tears. We’re allowed to cry happy tears.”

  And a little more than five years after that

  “Babe, can you grab a fresh twelve-pack from the cooler in the garage?” Gabby yelled, stepping through the sliding glass door and onto the back patio.

  She loved her house. Small compared to her family’s standards, she hadn’t wanted anything big. Just enough room for her and Marco, their kids, and Fred and Ginger. She liked that anywhere in the house she could hear the kids playing from wherever they decided to settle. Loved when the sounds of laughter and barking echoed through the rooms. Loved she could hear the moment her husband came home.

  Marco turned his head her direction, raised his pointer, signaling for a minute, then gave her a smile and a wink before turning back to his conversation with Ricky, Frankie, Dino, and Johnny.

  Their family and friends were over for the fourth of July. The day was scorching hot, but between the pool and the patio misters, they almost had the heat under control. Nico was over by the barbecue, grilling burgers while Olivia and Amy—no longer her boss but her business partner and best friend—were helping Gabby in the kitchen with all the sides. Her parents and Marco’s grandma were on babysitting duty.

  Gabby looked out into the backyard to a shady spot of grass where the group played. Angelica, the oldest at six, was the ringleader, motioning dramatically what she wanted the other kids to do. Sofia, Nico and Olivia’s other little girl, was almost three and copied everything her big sister did, waving her little arms up in the air and stomping her feet, trying to get her cousins’ attention.

  Dante, her and Marco’s oldest at four-years-old, and the only boy, ignored the three girls, electing to play in a mud puddle he’d created. Gabby was just happy he was wearing his swim trunks because he had dried dirt from head to toe. Isabella—their little Izzy—had just turned two last month. She idolized her big brother and kept tottering around his mud puddle.

  The adults sat in lawn chairs on the sidelines, playing referee and having zero effect.

  The whole scene made Gabby smile. Her smile grew larger as her husb
and approached. Married for almost five years, he still never failed to take her breath away.

  They’d had a quickie ceremony when her birth control failed and they’d accidentally gotten pregnant. Her mother hadn’t been happy she’d missed out on a big wedding, but she was easily appeased when Gabby let her pick out her wedding dress.

  Striding toward her in only a pair of swim trunks, Marco’s legs were on full display—just how she liked them. Her eyes traveled up to his chest then a little lower to the puckered scar high up on his abdomen and under his ribcage, reminding her how close she’d come to losing him. She never took any of their days together for granted.

  She forced her eyes away from that reminder and met his eyes. His were shining with merriment, and a smirk decorated his lips. He knew she’d been checking him out. She shrugged, what could she say, she liked looking at her husband.

  Marco laughed outright and swept her into his arms when he reached her. “Don’t worry, streghetta, I’m in the same boat. When I look at you, sappy poems seem to sprout in my head.”

  Gabby giggled. “Nothing can be as sappy as the poem you wrote when you asked me to marry you.”

  “That poem was not sappy. If I remember correctly, it made you cry.”

  That made her laugh. “Impossible. A Conti never cries.”

  He tapped her on the nose. “They do happy tears.”

  She pinched him playfully on his side, right above the waistband of his swim trunks. “Stop distracting me and go get that beer from the fridge.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He dipped her, giving her a long, deep kiss before righting her again and smacking her on the ass on his way into the house.

  She watched his retreating figure unable to decide which she liked better, watching him come or watching him go. Then decided it was a tie.

  Family gone, kids asleep, house quiet, Marco was ready for some alone time with his wife. Watching her parade around in her skimpy shorts and tank top all day and not be able to take advantage of it had been torture. But that was about to change.