Page 49 of Falling for Mr. October

Thanks a lot, Jason.

That photograph could only have come from him.

“Bianca and I aren’t dating, Nonna,” I insist, rubbing my forehead. “We’re not together.”

“You think I know nothing about this hanky-panky? Enzo told me there was nothing going on between him and Lucy either. She told me this, too, and now they’re getting married.”

Oh Christ. I have to cut this short before she and Nonna Rose decide to drive Bianca and me to the closest church with a shotgun aimed at our heads.

“We knew that guy was going to take a photo of us. That’s why we kissed. We’re only pretending we’re dating,” I say in what can only be described as a fit of exhaustion.

I tell myself it’s only a partial lie.

She shifts her weight and plants a hand on her hip. “Pretend? Why would you pretend? What good comes from pretending?”

I glance at the open door, hoping Bianca will appear and smooth things over. But no one’s out there.

“The farm’s not doing so good,” I say. “Bianca thinks it’ll be helpful if we stick around for a while. I told her I’m good with it as long as you’re happy here. Are you happy here, Nonna? We could go back home early, if you want.”

“We will not be leaving early,” she says staunchly. “I am very happy here. Rose and I, we have forgiven everything, and she needs me after losing Ted.” She pauses, gazing intently at me. “And from this photo, I know you’re very happy here too.”

“Sure,” I mutter, threading a hand through my hair. “Anyway, Bianca thinks more people will come to the farm if they know I’m working there.”

“Because of this Shirtless Chef?” she says, making the sign of the cross over her chest.

“Yeah. She knows I don’t like some of the attention I’ve been getting, and if people think we’re in a relationship, they’ll back off. There won’t be any scenes like there were back home.”

“Oh, they’ll definitely back off,” Bianca says as she steps into the room, already dressed in a black sweater and maroon leggings that cup her ass like they were made for it.

She’s holding a cup of coffee, and I tell myself that’s why I’m staring.

She lifts the mug. “Would you like some coffee?”

Maybe I do want to marry her.

I nod and reach out to her, our fingers brushing as I claim the cup. Touching her, I’m struck with a memory of last night. Did she hear me through the wall too?

I meet her gaze, but she gives nothing away.

“Thank you, Bianca.”

She nods, a smile playing on her lips. “It’s fixed the way you like it, distasteful as it is.”

Nonna Francesca clears her throat.

Turning toward her, Bianca says, “Giovanni is very talented, Nonna Francesca. He has many fans.”

My nonna sniffs. I try to avoid getting puffed up. No doubt this is part of Bianca’s plan to talk my grandmother around. I take a sip of the coffee.

Bianca eyes my nonna shrewdly, like she’s about to talk her into buying a giant pumpkin. “How would you feel about your grandson continuing to make videos if he keeps his shirt on?”

I choke on my coffee, then nearly slop it onto the floor, because I don’t know how to speak without waving my hands. “But a Shirtless Chef can’t wear a shirt. If I wear a shirt, it’s all over.”

Bianca’s gaze shifts to me, holding steady. “You don’t need to be shirtless if they can see your face. Your face will keep them coming back. You could tell your fans that your grandmother has insisted you keep your shirt on.” She lifts her eyebrows. “Or you can say it was your girlfriend.”

“You were thinking about this last night?”

“I couldn’t sleep. I also watched most of your videos.”