Page 53 of Falling for Mr. October

He smiles at Rhett, who manages a toothy return smile and a subdued nod.

“So what exactly did you win?”

“That contest last night with the apple man.”

“The Mr. October thing?” I scoff.

“Jason must have forgotten to tell you,” Rhett begins, his voice the purr of a practiced bullshitter. “But this year An Apple a Day paired with town hall to create something special for the winner. The crown was just the beginning. There’s an impressive package of prizes. Free admission to every town event this fall, free dining coupons for all of our restaurants. We’ll want to take some photos for the tourism website, of course.”

“Of course,” Giovanni says with a wolf’s grin. “How generous of you.”

“Giovanni’s only in town temporarily,” I begin.

“Don’t drive him away just yet, Bianca,” Rhett says with a shit-eating grin. He looks like he wants to pat Giovanni on the back, give him a cigar, and say something about men like us. “Let our first Mr. October enjoy everything that an autumn in Apple Ridge has to offer.”

Giovanni laughs and draws me closer. “Oh, I assure you. I’ve been enjoying every bit of what Apple Ridge has to offer.”

I flush, but I’m not the only one. Rhett’s cheeks are bright red.

Good. I don’t mind admitting that I take vindictive pleasure in his discomfort. He mustn’t enjoy bending over backward to please the man he thinks I’m sleeping with.

Rhett forces a laugh. “You do seem comfortable here.”

“Of course I am. I’ve been coming here since I was a boy. You know, I was the first man to ever kiss Bianca.”

I nudge his arm, but I’m not displeased. Let Rhett think this was some great love that first budded when we were children.

“What do you know…” Rhett says, obviously pissed now. “I guess all that was cut short when your grandmothers got into their big fight at the market. What was that about anyway?”

Giovanni shrugs. “Who knows, who cares?”

I could swear I hear a grunt through the vent.

“Sounded pretty vicious.”

“We’re hot-blooded,” Giovanni says with plenty of suggestive swagger. “It keeps things exciting.”

“So does leaving the house,” interjects Rhett, obviously eager to get this conversation back onto the path he paved for it. “Wouldn’t you and Bianca enjoy doing these activities together?”

“Thanks, but we don’t need a social planner,” I say. “We’re very capable of reading the town whiteboard ourselves.”

“Speak for yourself.” Giovanni grins. “I didn’t do so great in school.” He shifts his grip on me, his hand cupping my hip.

Every thought in my brain flees as my focus shifts to the pressure of his fingertips, the warmth of his palm. His fingertips slide under my sweater the slightest bit. Oh God, that feels good. What is he doing to me?

“Tell me, Mr. Mayor, what activities will my girl and I be enjoying this fall?” he continues.

Rhett’s expression suggests he knows Giovanni is messing with him, but he doesn’t understand how, and if Rhett dislikes anything, it’s a situation in which he’s not in control. “Well, like I said, we thought you might like to eat at some of our best restaurants.”

“There’s no need for that,” Giovanni says with a grin. “My girlfriend makes sure I’ve got plenty to eat. Mostly dessert, but I do have a sweet tooth.” Then he winks at Rhett. He winks at him.

I can’t decide if I’m pissed off or amused, maybe both.

Flustered, Rhett says, “Well, if you change your mind…”

“I’m very satisfied with my dining options,” Giovanni says smoothly. “And if that changes, I can rip my shirt off and hit the kitchen. Tell me…what else do you have lined up?”

“As Mr. October, you’ll of course get free admission to all of our autumn events. The s’mores bonfire is tomorrow night, and the townwide scarecrow contest is next Saturday.”