Then, suddenly, my feet aren’t on the floor.
I yelp, hands instinctively flying to hit whatever has lifted me. Then I’m turned in strong arms, clutching my fists against a soft black long-sleeved shirt, pressed against a firm and familiar chest.
The scent of soap and sandalwood embraces me, and Gareth pushes the hair from my face. “Hey, beautiful,” he coos, then slants his mouth over mine.
I push him lightly, swatting at his chest. “You jerk! You scared the shit out of me.” My face deceives me, though, breaking into a wide grin. I loop my arms around his neck, hands in his hair to pull him closer.
He sets me back on my feet but doesn’t step away. Instead, he tilts my chin with his finger, staring down at me with so much emotion a lump lodges in my throat.
“Are you ready?” he asks, almost hesitantly, as if he’s scared I’ll say no.
I arch a brow in question, teasing him a little. “For what exactly?”
“You’ll see.” Gareth threads his fingers through mine, guiding me until we reach a door that’s been propped open a few feet away.
Cold New York air bites against my skin, nipping at my nose, while the city sounds twirl around us, welcoming us back into the chaos of the city. Lights twinkle from the skyscrapers, and I lean my head back, taking it all in.
Gareth presses his hand against the small of my back, leading me to a town car waiting along the curb with the door already open as Charles waits for us.
“Hello again, Ms. Archer. Mr. Fox.”
The inside of Di Mercutio glows like the kitchen of a generations-old Italian villa. The smell of garlic and rich tomato-based sauce hits me the second we walk into the restaurant, my stomach immediately rumbling.
“How did you hear about this place?” I ask Gareth as the hostess leads us back to a table in the corner with a street-side view.
We’re the only ones here—it has to be nearing their closing time—but I can’t bring myself to care as the hostess places a menu in my hands, already open to showcase the delectable meals they have to offer.
“I got to talking with one of the guys who plays for the Crown’s earlier today. Asked him for some restaurant recommendations and he was insistent we come here.”
“They’re open late,” I muse, my gaze cataloging the choices in front of me.
From over the menu, I see Gareth shrug, also scanning through his choices. “I made a call.”
Dinner’s full of laughter, easy conversation, and absolutely amazing food. Gareth’s attention never wavers, listening to every word—every detail—I feed to him, like he’s storing away each breadcrumb I give to him for later. He looks at me like I’ve hung the moon, and I wonder to myself if he realizes he’s my entire damn universe.
Under the table, our legs brush, knees knocking together as we share our plates. The chef eventually comes out from the kitchen and we pay him our compliments, raving over the tiramisu he’s brought to us.
By the time we step back into the night, the city feels like it’s beginning to wind down. I check my phone, eyes widening—it’s almost midnight.
“Should we go back to the hotel?” I ask Gareth, knowing they have another game tomorrow, this time at two.
“Are you turning into a pumpkin, Cinderella?” His mouth quirks into an amused smile, eyes sparkling.
“Not at all, but you might need your rest, Sleeping Beauty.”
Gareth laughs and slips an arm around my shoulders, steering me toward the waiting town car. “Nah. I’ve got time. Besides, we have one more stop.”
I smile at Charles as he opens the door, and Gareth tips his head.
“Is that so?” I slide inside the car, Gareth following me in after. “Where to now?”
As the door shuts, he leans in to fasten my seatbelt—close enough for me to feel the heat of his body. My breath hitches, and I fight against the urge to squirm.
“You’ll see.” He plants a kiss on my lips before sliding back into his seat just as the car pulls onto the road.
Twenty minutes later, we’re on the outskirts of Brooklyn, staring up at a building that looks like it’s seen better days.
The old neon sign hums, therinarcadeburnt out. Still, the sound of laughter and air hockey spill out onto the city street.
