Free Always by Celia Juliano

ago.
    Vincente shook his head and stood. He paced the room a couple of times.
    Get up and leave. Her body seemed to weigh too much to move. “You act like I shouldn’t be suspicious of your family. But your father left. You left. But you went to high school here. You must’ve heard the rumors, same as I did.”
    “That was a long time ago. You better call home.” Vincente’s heat radiated next to her. He reached over her and placed the phone next to her.
    He’d avoided her question. He’d asked her what the problem was and then wouldn’t answer her. She pushed out a breath. She’d deal with that later. She needed help with what to tell her parents first. “What am I supposed to say?”
    “Tell them you’re at a friend’s.”
    “They know none of my friends live here anymore.” Just family, and Paolo. She really needed to call him. He’d been a good friend, and she’d been lax about keeping in touch.
    “Do you have a key to your Uncle Carlo’s?”
    “Yeah, Aunt Sophia gave me one when we all had dinner there last week.”
    “So say you went there to be alone. They’re out of town for the weekend.”
    “Thanks.” She called home. Luckily, her mom answered.
    “Gina! Where are you? We’ve been so worried. Your dad’s been frantic.”
    “I’m okay. I needed to be alone so I went to Uncle Carlo’s.”
    “Oh. I wish you would’ve just told us.”
    Dad was exclaiming in the background. Rustling—he must’ve grabbed the phone.
    “Gina, what’s wrong with you? You have no respect. Your mother was up half the night.”
    “I’m twenty-five, I don’t answer to you.”
    “You do when you live at my house.”
    She bit her tongue. There was no point talking to him when he got like that. She could get her own place, when she found a job. Course, Michael lived rent-free in the third-floor flat over the market, yet she was expected to help at the store and rescue the business and live under her parents rules…for what?
    “Gina!”
    “Okay, I hear you. I’ll be home for lunch.”
    “Good. We have a lot to discuss.”
    The store was closed Mondays. Great, she’d have all day and night to argue with her parents.
    “Sorry for worrying you. See you later. Love to Grandma and Michael.”
    He snorted. She hung up.
    “He sounded pleased,” Vincente said sarcastically.
    She threw her phone at Vincente. He caught it and set it next to his. She hunched up, ready for retaliation, but a knock sounded. She flopped back and pulled the blanket over her head.
    “Thanks, Marcella,” Vincente said. “You’re a wonder. Have you heard from Grandpop?”
    “He’ll be home today for lunch. He say to tell you be here to talk.”
    The door closed. Gina popped her head out from under the covers. The savory smell of eggs and vegetables greeted her. Her stomach rumbled.
    Vincente set the tray in front of her. He’d removed the other one. He took a plate. “ Buon appetito .”
    “Thank you,” Gina said. She eased the other plate off the tray and ate as daintily as she could with the plate propped on her knees. The eggs, mixed with spinach, peppers, onions, and some herbs, was tastier with each bite. She’d soon finished. She placed the plate back and sipped the glass of orange juice. Fresh-squeezed.
    “Feel better?” Vincente said as he moved the tray outside the door.
    “It’s better than a hotel here,” Gina said in a teasing tone.
    “A lot quieter.” His voice was low, edged with a hard, lonely sharpness.
    She slid from the bed and met Vincente. She wrapped her arms around him. He rubbed his hands down her back, stopping above her ass. Squirming, she smiled up at him. Her smile faded on seeing his serious, stern expression. He dropped his hands.
    “You said you needed to leave.” He turned. “Do you want me to drive you home?”
    No man had ever rejected her when she’d been standing naked in his arms. Then again, no man had consistently treated her with the respect Vincente did. Taking someone at