Page 105 of Falling for Mr. October

I climb onto his shoulders, laughing. Utterly embarrassed, because I’m turned on by the feeling of his strong muscled shoulders beneath my legs, and the confident, easy way he gets to his feet, his hands securely locking my thighs into place once he’s standing.

“Pluck it, Bianca. Pluck it good.”

I reach into the nest of leaves, sure I’m never going to be able to get to the pink treat within them. It’s at least a few centimeters from my grasp, unattainable no matter how hard I try.

But suddenly I feel his large hands spanning my waist, lifting me off his shoulders, and then the apple is wrapped inside my hand. I feel the stem snap, and I gasp as I pull it away.

“I got it.”

“Of course you did.”

Giovanni lowers me onto his shoulders again and then kneels down so I can slide down his back—which I do, pressing my body against him as I descend.

He groans as he turns to me, still crouching on the orchard floor. “That was a dirty trick, Bianca.”

I grin at him. “I’m a dirty girl.”

He answers with a deliciously wicked smile. “Are you going to let me bite your apple?”

Holding his gaze, I say, “Before you do, you should know that Kitty told me if you pick the last apple in an orchard with a man and eat it with him, you’ll be bound together for eternity.” I gesture at the slightly feral trees, the fallen leaves. “There may be dozens of apples still hidden in here, and the story is obviously bullshit, but⁠—”

He picks up my hand, which is still wrapped around the apple, and bites down on its crisp flesh.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

GIOVANNI

CAFIERO FAMILY CHAT

Aria: Holy shit. Can you get me one of those hats?!

Enzo: Why do you need the hat? All you have to do is show someone your book collection.

Aria: Very funny.

Nico: Isn’t anyone else going to comment on the fact that Giovanni is gone for Bianca?

Enzo: Again. Why this need to point out the obvious?

Me: God, I hate it when Enzo is right.

I get a hat for my sister, then two more for my brothers, since I’m feeling good, and I figure we Cafieros might as well be the Smut Slut crew.

Bianca and I spend the rest of the afternoon wrapped up in the bliss of being outside on a beautiful day, with the air smelling like leaves, campfires, and cider. The taste of that last apple is still in my mouth—tart and sweet—and hers too, because after she took her bite, we kissed, as if to seal the blessing or curse.

As the sun descends in the sky, we head over to the Evergreens & Apples table to claim our s’mores ingredients, only for Nonna Rose to motion warily to the tote bag they’d been in. “You’re not talking about the crackers that were in there, are you?”

“Yes,” Bianca says, her voice tight.

Nonna Rose tsks. “We sold them.”

“You sold Giovanni’s special graham crackers?” Bianca asks incredulously, her hand on her hip. “Who bought them?”

She looks more horrified than I feel, because honestly, who cares? The worst that’ll happen is that I’ll have to make someone else dinner, possibly even Rhett. But if I have to make dinner for Mr. Mayor, I’ll make him pay for the honor. Just because someone can cook a good meal doesn’t mean they can’t also make an epically bad one on purpose.

“I don’t remember,” Nonna Rose says, peering into the bag as if she hopes to find them. “Some young boy. He came around looking for graham crackers, and he wanted the marshmallows in there too. He offered us a good deal for both. Francesca and I did the negotiating.”

She exchanges a look with Nonna Francesca, and I feel a twinge of misgiving in my chest.