Page 34 of Falling for Mr. October

“Oh, he definitely did,” she replies with a grin.

CHAPTER TEN

BIANCA

I suggested driving to the apple barn so we could grab a ball cap for Giovanni—he’d left his behind in his room—but he pointed out that wearing an Evergreens & Apples hat would confirm his identity, not conceal it.

So I texted Em, asking if we could buy a new hat from the shipment that had just arrived at the bookstore, and she agreed to meet us in the town parking lot closest to Little Apple Books.

Although she’s not working tonight, she lives in a cramped one-room apartment directly over the shop. It’s unbelievably drafty—too cold in winter, too warm in the summer—but it’s all hers. Sometimes I’m jealous of that. I love my big, chaotic family, but I wouldn’t mind loving them from more of a distance.

Now, Giovanni and I are sitting in my parked car in the parking lot, waiting for her, while he finishes wolfing down his energy bars.

“I’ll bet you don’t have people cook for you often if you’re some sort of mega chef,” I comment.

He laughs as he unwraps the rest of the final bar. “I wouldn’t say anyone’s cooked for me tonight.”

I nudge his shoulder. “Bite your tongue. This is a Bianca Murphy special, and you’d best enjoy it. My grandmother never lets me do the cooking, so this is as close as I come most days. They’re good for when you’re on the run.”

He lifts his eyebrows as he finishes the last of the bar. I watch him swallow, my eyes tracking the movement of his Adam’s apple.

“Is that her?” he asks, squinting past me. “Or is that someone who’s decided to steal your car?”

I turn toward the window and laugh as I see Em approaching us from the side of the lot. She’s wearing a dark hoodie, the hood pulled over her distinctive red hair, and glancing shiftily from side to side.

“It feels like we’re doing a drug deal,” Giovanni mutters.

Emily taps on my window, and I roll it down, suddenly fighting laughter, because yes, this is like a drug deal on some bad TV drama.

She pushes a pink hat through the window. “Look, I’m sorry, but this is the only one we had in extra-large.”

I take it from her and turn it so the words are visible to both me and Giovanni.

Smut Slut in cursive, printed over a red heart. Giovanni eyes it doubtfully, while I struggle not to laugh.

“And this is supposed to help me go unnoticed?” He gestures at the hat still gripped in my hand.

“You’re a tall, good-looking Italian guy in a small town,” Emily points out. “You’re going to get noticed regardless, but hopefully they’ll be laughing at you and not asking themselves why you look so familiar.”

Giovanni smiles, his eyes lighting up. Hooking a thumb toward Emily, he says, “Hey, your friend thinks I’m hot.”

I lean toward him and put the cap on his head, pausing to tuck some of his dark, glossy hair beneath it. My heart is beating faster than it should, my fingers tingling, but I ignore my reaction to him and study the cap’s effect, smiling.

He looks adorable, his dark hair tucked under the hat, his heavily lashed eyes peeking out from under it.

“I like it. It gives you character.”

He bends the brim into an arch. “I already have character.”

“You want a different character,” Emily says. “That’s why we didn’t get you a chef’s hat. That’ll be thirty bucks, by the way.”

“Highway robbery,” Giovanni mutters, but he’s already pulling out his wallet. He hands her a couple of twenties. “Keep the change.”

She hesitates before pocketing the bills. “I’ll pick out the perfect book for you with it.”

“No need. I’m not much for books, but I know they cost more than ten dollars these days.”

“Yes, but you’ll feel more obligated to read it if she’s spent some of her own money on it,” I say fondly, very familiar with Emily’s patented sales technique.