Page 90 of Falling for Mr. October

“Could have fooled me.”

“You enjoyed yourself there,” I say. “I know you did.”

He shrugs. “They were nice. I didn’t know them when they were young, so I could appreciate them as they are now. But I’m going to be honest with you, cara. The place itself is a bit of a dump. The cafeteria is a disgrace, the sprinklers don’t work, and the fire alarm should have gone off when there was actually a fire.”

“I won’t argue with you there. I told you, Rhett⁠—”

“Mr. Mayor.”

I smile in approval of his caustic tone. “Mr. Mayor owns it, and he doesn’t give a shit about improving it. It’s not his fault it’s as bad as it is, but he hasn’t done anything to fix it. He only bought it so he’d have his chance at the rest of Kitty’s money once the foundation funds are out of probate.”

Giovanni takes a few more bites, his expression contemplative. “We’ll see about that.”

I laugh, setting down my fork. “What are you going to do to him now?”

“I haven’t done anything to him yet,” he says, his tone streaked with menace. “But he’ll know when I’m done with him.”

I sigh as I eat a bite of eggs. “I’m really upset with myself that I find your macho posturing sexy.”

He shakes his head, his eyes glittering with humor, grabs his empty plate and mine, and puts them in the sink. Then he lowers himself into a plank position on the kitchen rug.

“What are you doing?” I ask, laughing.

His expression is positively rakish. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m making sure my abs stay in peak condition so your friends at the old folks’ home will continue to like me. Hop on, Bianca. It’s time for my workout.”

I keep laughing, my hand rising to my mouth to cover it.

“Please don’t cover your face,” he says. “It does me a world of good to see you smile.”

For some reason, his sweet statement dries up the laughter. What we’re doing doesn’t seem like harmless fun anymore. It feels like I’m swimming in waters that are deceptively deep.

But I swallow and say, “You seriously want me to climb onto your back?”

“Yes. I’ve never tried it before, but it sounds fun. Let’s give it a go.”

I can’t help but laugh again, nervously this time, as I walk over to him. “Should I sit on you? Lie on you?”

“You can do with me whatever you like, Bianca,” he says, grinning. “My body is your playground.”

This man knows exactly what he’s doing to me—it’s there in his mischievous smile. But it doesn’t take away from his charm, because he’s fun. Oh God, he’s fun.

I climb onto his back, my body still shaking with laughter, and then run a hand up his muscular back, letting it sift through his hair. “Giddyup.”

I feel him shaking with laughter too as he starts doing pushups, but my own laughter dies quickly, because I like the way he feels beneath me, his muscles flexing, his body hot and hard. I stretch out, wanting to feel more of him against more of me.

He makes a humming sound in his throat as I weave my fingers through his hair again, but he doesn’t pause. He continues pushing himself up, acting as if it’s effortless. As if I weigh as much as a beanbag on his back.

“You’re very strong, Giovanni.”

He grunts. “You’re not going to put me off my game.”

“Is that so?”

He lifts himself up and then lowers down again. “That’s so.”

“Uh-huh,” I mutter, then reach around his side and run my fingers along his waist, trailing around⁠—

He swears in Italian, and he starts laughing a little. “Oh, the things you do to me.”