Cole leaned into me, pressing his forehead against mine so I had nowhere to look but in his eyes or at my feet. I chose his eyes. “I’m sorry for taking you over there. But he knows that no matter how mixed up you are, underneath it all you love him. And he’s here on a bloody date? I wanted to shake him up, not you.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. You’re trembling.”
“I’m trembling with anger. Cole —”
He cut me off by cupping my face in his hands and pressing a soft, sweet kiss to my lips. When he finally pulled back, I stared at him wide-eyed and more than slightly alarmed. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Reminding him he hasn’t won you yet and unless he fights harder he’ll lose you to someone else. He doesn’t need to know that someone will never be me, sweetheart.” He grinned unrepentantly.
I loved my best friend. Totally. I leaned up and pressed another soft kiss to his cheek. “You’re the best, but part of the reason I’m so messed up is because I don’t want him to fight harder. I want us to be over. I just don’t know how to let go.”
Cole leaned into me again, lips almost touching mine as he said quietly, “You need to stop lying to yourself, Hannah Nichols. You love him. You know you do. Otherwise you wouldn’t be in such a state.”
Before I could respond in the negative, a shadow fell over us and we pulled slightly apart to look to our right and into Marco’s furious face. Anger danced in his exceptional eyes and it was all directed at Cole. “You’ve got two seconds to move away from her before I f**k you up a million times worse than I did at the site.”
I jerked back from Cole instantly, hating the idea of them fighting again. Anyway, if anyone was going to be throwing a punch tonight, it was going to be me. At my movement, Marco’s gaze flicked to me, along with his anger. “Nothing going on between you, huh?”
Indignation riled me even more. “What about you?” I leaned into him. “This is you fighting for us? A double date with some blonde and the mother of your child?”
His jaw clenched and he forced the words out between his teeth. “It’s a favor for Leah. It means f**k all.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me last night about it?”
“Because according to you we’re just dicking around, so I didn’t think it would matter all that much to you.”
Oh, my God, how on earth had I gotten myself into this convoluted emotional craphole? I pressed back against Cole, silently telling him it was time for us to leave. “You’re right. It doesn’t matter.”
But Marco wasn’t about to let me leave. Suddenly he was so close to me I had to tilt my head back to look up into his face. “What do you want from me? You tell me I’m just something you need to get out of your system and then you act like a jealous wife. Are you proving me wrong about you, Hannah? Does it turn out you’re just another woman playing stupid, f**king mind games that I’m never going to understand? Because if that’s who you are, maybe I don’t want this after all.”
A punch to the gut. His words were a definite punch to the gut. Winded, I crowded back into Cole, who was now gripping my arms, as if holding himself back from jumping into this with Marco. “Finally,” I said, breathing harshly, “we’re on the same page.” I turned around and strutted past Cole, hearing his footsteps following quickly behind me.
I hadn’t taken five steps when I heard faster, heavier footsteps approaching. My arm was seized in an unrelenting grasp. I gasped, and looked up at Marco’s resolute face. He didn’t say anything – he just turned and started marching toward the hallway of the restaurant. My cheeks were burning because by now we had an audience. “What are you doing?” I snapped, tugging at my arm and meeting absolute resistance. As I was dragged farther, I glanced back over my shoulder to see that Cole hadn’t moved to stop him. “Cole?” I called back into the room.
He shrugged.
Shrugged!
He’d just made it onto my kill list!
In the dimly lit hallway we passed the door to the kitchen, turned a corner, and marched to the very end of it. Marco knocked on the door there and pulled me inside.
We were in a small office. Bookshelves crammed nearly every inch of the wall space and in the center of the room sat a large desk with a computer and piles of papers all over it.
Behind the desk was an attractive older Italian man I’d seen a couple of times around the restaurant. Gio D’Alessandro.
I tensed.
This was a man who had verbally abused Marco. This was a man who had hit him. I felt invisible little claws spring out at the end of my fingers and I narrowed my eyes on Gio.
He looked at Marco and me in surprise. “Everything okay?” He stood up. He was tall and still fit for his age. If he’d been anyone else I would have admired his air of casual grace.
“Gio, this is Hannah. Can we borrow the office for a few minutes?”
Gio’s gaze snapped to me and the recognition in his eyes told me that he had heard of me. That surprised me. Marco had spoken to his uncle about me? “It’s nice to meet you, Hannah.” He gave me another smile and then passed us to let himself out of the office.
I didn’t say it was nice to meet him back.
Once the door closed behind his uncle, Marco let go of my arm and I took a few steps away from him. Not wanting to look at him, I looked anywhere but, and my gaze fell on a frame on Gio’s desk. In the frame was a picture of Gio holding Dylan and staring at the boy with undisguised love.