Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
BIANCA
Giovanni’s been running for over an hour and is covered in sweat. For some reason, he looks even sexier than he did an hour and a half ago, when he was sleepy-eyed with mussed dark hair. I guess my lizard brain is drawn to the evidence that he’s strong and capable.
The rest of me?
I’m just glad he came back.
Giovanni takes off his sunglasses and clips them to his shirt. “So this guy…did he come over to challenge me to a duel?”
“He hasn’t said why he’s here. He only showed up five minutes ago. But I doubt that’s what he has planned. He doesn’t like starting fights he can’t win.”
Giovanni’s grin tells me that this, at least, was the right thing to say.
I’d thought I was saying the right thing earlier, when I tried to help him with his grandmother, but the way he ran out of the house suggested he didn’t appreciate it. He probably thought I was pushing my agenda, and in a way, he was right. We do need him, but that’s not the only reason I spoke up.
He seems to believe his abs were the star of The Shirtless Chef. They are perfect abs, but he’s wrong if he thinks they’re the only reason viewers tuned in.
Something about Giovanni makes people feel relaxed and at home. It’s like he has a sixth sense for what people need to feel good about themselves. I saw it last night, at the diner and also with Jason, and it was obvious in each of his videos. He’s the real draw—the whole Giovanni package.
Aaaaaand now I’m thinking about his package.
Oh God, not again.
Watching those videos last night, I kept drifting back to that moment we shared on the rock. I had to “take care” of myself to keep from doing something truly stupid, like knocking on his door dressed in nothing but the Sir Gala-Head sweatshirt.
I won’t lie. I was thinking about him the whole time, imagining he was touching me.
For inspiration, I kept an image from one of his Shirtless Chef videos frozen on my laptop screen, the ridges of his chest perfectly sculpted and lickable.
I fell so deeply into my fantasy that I even imagined I could hear him on the other side of the wall, his phantom groans pushing my need higher.
Now he’s standing in front of me, panting and sweaty, and it’s hard not to feel overcome.
Giovanni starts to whip his hat off, but I stop him. “No. Wear it inside. Please.”
He’s grinning as he lowers his arm. “You want me to meet your ex-fiancé while I’m a sweaty mess, wearing a ‘Smut Slut’ hat?”
“It’s the ultimate power move,” I insist. “He’s wearing a suit, but you’re showing him you don’t give a shit. His boastful wardrobe means nothing to you.”
He cocks his brow. “Because I’m the one who got the girl?”
“Yeah,” I say, smiling. “And because you’re not intimidated. Everyone likes you. No one who really knows him likes him. His own aunt could see right through him.”
“This guy was bad to you?”
“He was okay,” I say, but the look in his eyes has me walking it back.
“Fine. He’s the worst. After I broke up with him, he made sure Evergreens & Apples was taken off the town website.
Our business was cut in half.” I quickly explain about the fund Kitty set up and Rhett’s purchase of the retirement home.
Giovanni’s expression hardens. “Want me to beat him up?”
I try to gauge whether he’s serious, but it’s impossible to tell. “I’d feel bad if you got arrested.”
“Good to know you’d care,” he says, again in that strange tone, possibly kidding, possibly not.
“Just be careful. Rhett sees people as pawns on a chessboard, and it’s always his chessboard.”
“He thinks it’s his.” He glances at the house, then back at me. “So what’s his angle for coming here? It obviously has something to do with The Shirtless Chef. Am I going to get pressured into being Sir Gala-Head’s replacement?”
“People might actually want to come here if you were. He’s practical, so I suspect he wants to negotiate some kind of publicity arrangement.”
I hesitate and then decide to be straightforward. He’s pissed at me anyway, so why not ask for what I need?
“Giovanni, if you tell him you’re staying awhile, he might put the farm back—”
“Got it. Glad I could be of use.” His expression hardens, and he walks past me toward the door.
I catch the back of his shirt, and he turns around with an almost feline grace. His eyes boring into me, he says, “So you do want my shirt off?”
What woman wouldn’t?
But he’s baiting me, so I say what I meant to. “What’s our story for the fake relationship? He’ll probably ask how we got together.”
“We’ll tell him it’s none of his fucking business. He lost you, I got you. The best man won, end of story.”
I fight a smile. “We’ll need a story later.”
He tips the bill of his cap. “We reconnected through our mutual love of smut. Emily was helpful.”
“Let’s say I emailed you when I saw your video. I was a fan of your channel, and when I realized I actually knew the great Shirtless Chef, I had to get back in touch.”
One side of his mouth lifts. “Because I’d given you the worst kiss ever. Obviously, you wanted more.”
“No, because you were my first kiss.”
An inscrutable look passes over his handsome face. “And I answered you because you were mine.”
My breath catches in my throat, though I know he can’t mean it. He was a year older than me, and he’s always been too handsome for his own good. He probably had a kissing booth at his school, manned only by him.
He leans in, smelling like our Christmas trees after a heavy rain, and says, “And you knew I was freaked out about everyone knowing my secret, so you offered me a place to stay. Basically, you become Miles in this story.”
I give this some thought and nod. “That’s good.”
“I was going to keep hiding, but then the truth came out.”
“I meant what I said earlier,” I say urgently. “You shouldn’t walk away from The Shirtless Chef. You’ve built something worth keeping.”
“You don’t have to fix me, Bianca. You already have your hands full. And, as you’ve reminded me more than once, I’m Miles’s friend, not yours. I’ll help you for his sake.”
I stare at him in disbelief, feeling pissed off and guilty at the same time. Feeling seen, too, because I do have a compulsion to solve the problems I see.
But he doesn’t wait for a response. He walks toward the house, and I stand there staring at his perfect butt as he disappears inside.
I really don’t want to go back in there.
Rhett Gallagher is an asshole and a half. I’d like to tell him to fuck off, but he obviously wants something—cough, cough, Giovanni—and if Giovanni throws him a few favors, he might back off. Maybe he’ll even stop fighting Kitty’s foundation and I can start doing some real good in this town.
But I absolutely cannot leave Giovanni to deal with Rhett and the nonnas without any backup, so I heave a sigh, climb the creaking porch steps, and follow him into the house.
My nonna, who is waiting just inside the door, grabs my wrist. “Let them talk,” she says in a hushed voice. “They must work this out as men.”
“Work what out?”
She presses her hand to her chest. “They both want to lay claim to you. It’s very exciting.
Giovanni stormed into that room like a warrior charging into battle.
He didn’t even bother to change his clothes.
We can listen from the bathroom next to the sunroom.
The vent allows everything to be heard. Francesca is already waiting there. Come.”
“Rhett’s not here to lay claim to me,” I say, affronted. “He’s here to lay claim to Giovanni.”
“Madonn’,” she mutters. “Is that why you broke the engagement?”
“Oh, for God’s sake. I don’t mean it like that. He wants to suck up to Giovanni because he knows people will come to Apple Ridge just to see him. He wants to—” The words die on my lips, and I suddenly feel like a real asshole.
I was going to say he wants to use him, and we can’t allow it, but isn’t that exactly what I’m trying to do?
I felt better about using Giovanni when I told myself I was going to help him too. But if he won’t let me do that, then I’m no better than Rhett, trying to use his fame for my own benefit.
Well, at least I can protect him from being alone with the biggest asshole in Apple Ridge.
“Look, Nonna Rose, I’m not leaving Giovanni alone in there. He needs backup.”
She scoffs. “That boy can fight his own battles.”
“But he shouldn’t have to fight them alone,” I insist, already freeing my arm. My pulse escalates as I walk along the worn runner rug.
Outside the sunroom, I can hear Giovanni and Rhett’s muffled voices, though I can’t make out any words yet. When I open the door, a beam of sunlight seems to be illuminating Giovanni and Rhett as they finish shaking hands.
I hope Giovanni’s grip is crushing.
Rhett glances at me, his tawny hair swept back, making his big blue eyes look larger beneath their sculpted brows. He’s wearing a seersucker suit, which looks as ridiculous as I’d hoped next to Giovanni’s casual look.
“Bianca,” he says with a sleazy grin. “I was just congratulating Giovanni on his big win.”
“His win?”
Giovanni laughs and sidles up to me, sliding an arm around my back. I stiffen before leaning into it. “He’s not talking about winning you, cara mia, although we can all agree I was the victor there.”
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.