Page 17 of Falling for Mr. October

“What’ll you have for breakfast?” I ask, trying not to sound desperate.

“I don’t usually eat breakfast. You must have noticed by now.”

I press a hand to my chest. “And your nonna lets you get away with that?”

She laughs. “Are you going to tattle on me?”

“Maybe I will. Or maybe I’ll let you off the hook if you consent to eating some eggs.”

Her nose scrunches. “I hate eggs.”

“Pancakes? Everyone likes pancakes.”

She studies me with a bemused smile. “Not everyone, it turns out.”

“Will you try a bite of mine? I’m a pretty good cook. It’s become a hobby of mine over the past year or so.” I have half a mind to tell her everything, if only to prove my point, but you don’t go around hiding your secret identity only to give it out for free over the breakfast table.

“I still don’t know the real reason you’re here,” she says as if she can read my thoughts. “So, no, I won’t eat your pancake payoff. Anyway, we don’t have time. We have to get going.”

“We?” I ask, baffled.

Aside from her jokey invitation to her art club the other day, I’ve gotten the distinct impression that Bianca is avoiding me.

I’ve tried to be okay with that. She was right that first night—she has no obligation to be my friend. But I’m lonely as hell.

“Our nonnas didn’t tell you?” Bianca asks, snapping me out of my self-pity.

I scratch the back of my head, sensing a trap. “Tell me what?”

I notice her gaze shift to my arm, so I keep it flexed for longer than necessary.

Bianca clears her throat and drops her gaze to her coffee. “My brother found a wagon he wants to buy for hayrides. The old one literally fell apart with a cartful of tourists in it this past summer. He thinks it’ll go quickly, so he needs to check it out today. Your nonna insisted on going. She says she can get him a deal no man could hope for.”

“That tracks. And your nonna?”

“She would have felt left out if she didn’t go. Plus, our grandmothers got into a spat about which of them could get the better deal. If you ask me, Theo’s in for some embarrassment, but he really wants that wagon.” Amusement crosses her face. “But if you want the real reason my grandmother is tagging along, I think she’s still hoping we’ll fall madly in love if we keep getting thrown together.”

“Maybe she’s right,” I say with my most seductive smile. “But we’ll never know because you refuse to let me make you breakfast.”

She laughs, which is an encouraging improvement. “You don’t have to make me breakfast, Giovanni. You’ve been cooking steadily since you got here. Aren’t you ready for a break?”

“I like cooking for people. Especially beautiful women who dislike me.”

Rolling her eyes, she says, “You’ll have plenty of chances to practice flirting today. Don’t waste it on me. It’s going to be a big day at the pumpkin patch.”

“Are Charlie Brown and the whole crew coming?”

She plants a hand on her hip and eyes me with distaste. “You said you came here to help out. Because Miles suggested it. You may think this place is beneath you, but it’s how my brother makes a living, and my great-uncle and grandfather before him.”

Chastened, I say, “Of course. You tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

“The pumpkin patch has already been open for a while, obviously, but today is the official launch day. The first Friday in October. Haven’t you seen the flyer on the town bulletin board?”

Part of Apple Ridge’s charm is the oversized whiteboard set up outside town hall that keeps track of all upcoming events. They hire a different local artist to update it every week. Flyers can be tacked to the corkboard anchored beside it.

Of course, kids love tagging the board or changing the art to make it more suggestive. Once upon a time, Miles and I were two of those kids.

But I haven’t seen the board since I got to town, because I haven’t been anywhere other than Evergreens & Apples.