“Then why didn’t you just talk to the guy?”
“Because…” She wasn’t sure how to answer that.
Luca closed the fridge and chuckled. “You’re afraid.”
“I amnotafraid of Matthew McCready.”
“Yeah, you are,” he said, tossing her a bottle of water. “Afraid of getting your heart broken.”
With a shrug, Gina twisted off the cap.
“Get over it. We’re not all assholes like that jag-off, Passarelli, you know.”
“Let’s leave him out of this, okay?” And giving her brother a meaningful glance, she slugged down the water.
Luca threw his hands up. “Fine, but I think you should at least talk to him.”
“No, I shouldn’t.”
“Big mistake,sorella.”
“Maybe.”Probably. “But it’s too late now, anyway.”
Back in her room, Gina sat on the bed and switched her Kindle on. She didn’t read the words on the screen, though. Instead, she gazed out the window, watching the sun’s descent into the sky.
Gina hated Sundays.
It started with the eight o’clock Mass at St. Vincent’s and usually ended with her brothers bickering at the dinner table.
In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit…
Under her mother’s watchful glare, Gina made the sign of the cross and hastily exited their pew. She still hadn’t forgiven her for her egregious sin this morning.
“You’re not planning to wear that, are you?” Her brows knitted, Rosemary’s gaze slowly traveled from her daughter’s feet to the top of her head.
Glancing down at her buff ankle boots, Gina smoothed her fingers over her pants. “What’s wrong with what I’ve got on?”
“Youcannotwear jeans to church.”
But I’m not…
They were black denim, not blue jeans, for chrissakes. Folks wore them all the time, but she wasn’t about to argue with her.
“Go put on a nice dress, yeah?” Rosemary lifted her chin, urging Gina back upstairs. “That’s what we wore to Mass when I was a girl.”
Here we go.
“And be thankful you don’t have to wear a hat anymore.Nonnaused to pin a lace handkerchief to my head,” she said for the hundredth time, her mouth twisting into a too-quick smile. “Besides, you might meet a nice boy, or Vinny could be there. Now, change.”
He wasn’t, thank God.
Outside on the church steps, wearing a dress her mother also disapproved of, Gina inhaled a cleansing breath of air. With theclouds covering the sun, it wasn’t nearly as warm as it had been yesterday. She rubbed her arms, wishing she’d taken a sweater, and traipsed down the stairs to the sidewalk.
Matteo came up from behind her and, grabbing Gina by the shoulder, wrenched her around. “And just where do you think you’re going?”
“Home.”
Hazel-green eyes boring into hers, he cocked his head as his fingers raked through a dark forest of thick, wavy hair. “You’re not riding with us?”
