Page 21 of Falling for Mr. October

We spring Luanne and her chair out of the back and make our way toward the pumpkin tent.

When we enter it, Giovanni is standing behind the counter with a baseball cap on, wearing the same shirt from earlier. A couple of women are gathered near the register, holding pumpkins but obviously in no hurry to leave. He’s talking to one of them, and the other looks to be waiting for her turn.

He grins at me over the shoulder of the woman he’s talking to, and Luanne whistles.

“Why’re you hiding him out here, Bianca?” she asks in an undertone that could probably be heard from space. “You should be bringing him all around town.”

“He’s not my new dog,” I hiss, but I have to laugh. I like seeing her enjoy herself.

Emily gives me a sidelong glance as we head deeper into the tent. On one side, there’s a collection of pumpkins of all different sizes, and the other display tables are loaded down with local goods and all kinds of pumpkin and apple treats.

“Did he look like that when he gave you your first kiss?” Emily finally asks.

Luanne gasps. “You’ve been holding out on me.”

I sigh as I drift toward the display tables, trying to figure out what I could get for Luanne that would cheer her up without making her sick. Maybe a cinnamon broom?

They’re still staring, so I say, “It was no big deal. It was the worst kiss I ever had.”

Luanne’s gaze settles back on Giovanni. “I don’t believe you for a second. Just looking at that man could get a woman pregnant.” She waves a hand toward the two women at the register. The first one has set her pumpkins down and is leaning toward him, her chest pressed out. “They’re giving it a try, looks like.”

Emily covers her mouth, but the laughter spills out anyway.

I roll my eyes, thinking but not saying, Try having him live in the room next door to you.

I’d told myself I wouldn’t let it affect me, having him so close, but every time I wake up at night, I think about Giovanni lying in my brother’s bed, the sheets bunched up around his waist…

Plenty of men sleep naked, and I’ve wondered if he’s one of them. If those familiar walls have gotten an eyeful of him.

But that doesn’t mean I have a thing for Giovanni. He’s nice to look at, is all, and it’s been a while since I’ve spent this much time with a good-looking man.

I went on a few dates after breaking off my engagement, but none of them were mind-blowing. The first one was probably the worst. Rhett was at the same restaurant as us, and he came over for a “chat.” Once my date realized my ex-fiancé was part owner of his place of employment—one of the apple cideries in town—he insisted we were better off as friends and left.

I clear my throat and gesture to a carafe of warm spiced cider. “How about some cider?”

I start pouring ciders and am topping up Emily’s cup when Giovanni walks over.

I point at his handwritten name tag.

“John,” I say with a laugh. “I’m going to take a photo of that and send it to your grandmother.”

“So I’ll tell your grandmother you don’t eat breakfast,” he threatens with a grin.

Emily and Luanne are watching us with way too much interest.

A couple of other guests walk in and start a slow walk around the tent, checking out the displays.

I clear my throat. “Giovanni, this is Luanne, the patient who gave us a bit of a scare this morning, and this is my best friend, Emily. Luanne, Emily, meet Gio—John. He and his grandmother are staying with us until the end of October.”

“Why would you call yourself John?” Luanne asks, wheeling her chair closer to him. “That’s no better than someone named Richard choosing to be called Dick.”

He rolls on his heels. “It’s easier for people to pronounce.”

“Who cares about making themselves easier for other people?” she asks, taking the cup of cider from me. “Make them work for it, son.” She gives me a wicked smirk. “Bianca will make you work for it. She just got done telling us you gave her the worst kiss she ever had.”

Giovanni looks like she gut-punched him.

Groaning, I say, “Come on. I didn’t mean anything by it. It was just a first kiss. All first kisses are bad. We were only kids.”