Page 11 of Falling for Mr. October

I’m not the slightest bit hungry anymore, but I shove in another couple of bites for her sake. “Delicious as always, Nonna.” I nod at Nonna Rose. “Nonna Rose, thank you for your hospitality and the bread.”

“I’m so pleased you’re here,” she says with a genuine smile. She looks like an older Bianca, although her hair has gone completely white.

Remembering what Bianca said about matchmaking, I decide to have a little fun. I smile at Bianca. “And I’m pleased to be here. Some of my best childhood memories were on this farm.”

“Is that why you came?” Bianca asks smartly. “Or do you have a sudden passion for North Carolinian pumpkins?”

She’s clearly fishing for information about Miles, who very distinctly asked me not to tell his family anything yet. Miles hates disappointing his family, a feeling I understand all too well.

“I do. I remember that fifty-pound one your great-uncle grew one year. Your brother sent me a picture. Actually, I figured maybe I’d write some poetry about farming life. Start a blog.”

She lifts one eyebrow. “Cute.”

“Do you like poetry, Bianca? Maybe I’ll write one about you.”

She looks like she wants to throw her garlic bread at me. I’d kind of enjoy it if she did.

“What a charming boy,” Nonna Rose says, reaching over to pat my hand. “Such a good grandson.”

My grandmother snorts but continues eating her spaghetti.

Wheels crunch on gravel outside of the old windows.

My back straightens. That’ll be Theo. Miles has already warned me that his brother won’t appreciate the intrusion.

Nonna Rose darts an accusatory look at Bianca, who lifts her hands. “I didn’t tell him. But you do have a strange car parked in front of the house. You know Theo. He likes to drive past the house to check on us.”

Sure enough, the front door creaks open. A few minutes later, Theo comes around the corner. He’s about my height now, with a short brown beard and messy hair. He’s wearing a flannel shirt, old jeans, and work boots. He has Bianca’s intense brown eyes.

He does a doubletake when he sees us sitting at the table, and his eyes linger on my grandmother.

“Oh good, you’re here,” Bianca says, reaching for the wine bottle on the tabletop.

She gets up and retrieves an empty glass from the old-fashioned china cabinet, the same piece of furniture my little sister banged her head on one of our early visits to the farm. It’s wild how little this place has changed. The only evidence that time has been moving along at Evergreens & Apples farm is in the wear and tear.

Bianca practically shoves a full glass of red wine into Theo’s hand, and he accepts it on reflex, then takes a sip.

“Do you remember the Cafieros?” Bianca asks.

“Of course.” He nods at my grandmother, then at me, his jaw clenching. “Giovanni, right?”

“Right.” I get to my feet and extend my hand to him. Theo gives it a shake, squeezing hard enough to communicate that the farm is his playground, and I’m standing on his sand.

“No, please don’t get up, Mrs. Cafiero,” he says, walking past me, his shoulder bumping into mine purposefully as he makes his way to my grandmother.

“I’m not dead yet,” she says morosely. “I can still move. And you will call me Nonna Francesca.” It’s not a request, and I smile at the flustered look on Theo’s face as she stands and gives him a stiff hug.

“Right. Nonna Francesca. So, to what do we owe the pleasure?”

“Wellll,” Bianca says, clearly enjoying herself more now that she has backup. “Sounds like Nonna Rose went to see your ex-girlfriend for psychic guidance. Then, on Theresa’s recommendation, she invited Nonna Francesca and Giovanni to stay with us. Giovanni’s going to take over our pumpkin patch, because the kids who worked there have been selling weeds, and Nonna Francesca’s going to help with all the fall baking.”

Theo takes another long sip of wine before setting the glass down on the table.

“You talked to Theresa?” he asks his nonna.

She shrugs. “You told me I shouldn’t drive to Hendersonville or Asheville anymore. She’s the only psychic in town. She’s not so bad, though. She told me the Pink Lady Apples would be better this year.”

Theo studies her for a moment before turning back to me, his eyes searing me like coals. “You don’t fool me. I know why you’re really here.”