“How about my weakness?” he asked. He looked at her like there was no one else in the room.
“Control.”
His dark eyebrows winged up. “I don’t have enough of it?”
Gia was certain Beckett Pierce had never been accused of not having enough control.
“No, you use too much of it. It makes you afraid to expand in your poses because you might fail or fall. You’re so focused on doing everything exactly right you miss out on the fact that doing things wrong can teach you more or be more fun.”
“I feel like this just turned into a yoga therapy session,” Jax whispered.
“What about us?” Carter asked, curious now. “Besides Hollywood here being an asshole.”
“Carter, you rely entirely on your strength to power through poses rather than bringing some flexibility to your practice. And you,” she said pointing at Jax, “get so focused on the competition that you pay too much attention to what others around you are doing and not enough to what you’re doing.”
“So, what you’re saying is there was no clear winner,” Beckett sighed.
“I’m saying that maybe instead of trying to kick each other’s legs out from under them when you’re in a balance pose,” she paused to glare at Jax, who looked away and whistled a little tune. “Or shoving each other over like dominos when you think I’m not looking,” she moved her glare to Beckett. “Maybe you should consider working together.”
“So we come up with the inaugural beer together?” Carter ventured, stroking his beard.
Pleased, Gia nodded. “Together you might come up with something better than you would have individually.”
“She’s not only beautiful and strong, she’s also brilliant,” Jax announced.
Beckett shoved him again. “Quit kissing her ass. The contest is over.”
“Your brother is just showing off his impeccable observational skills,” Gia sniffed. “Now, if you gentlemen can peel yourselves off the floor. I’ve got to get home and make sure my kids haven’t burned down the house.”
Carter and Jax took the hint and, after using nearly the entire spray bottle of mat sanitizer, dragged a reluctant Beckett out the door with them. They decided to go to Shorty’s to get a beer before heading home and were debating on how to spin the triple-loser situation to Summer and Joey when Gia locked the door behind them and laid her forehead on the cool glass.
It was only then that she allowed herself to laugh.
10
Beckett gave Gianna until the following afternoon to cool off before attempting his apology again. He knew she was avoiding him. That much was obvious from her skilled brush-off the night before. But the longer he waited, the worse he felt about it. Not only had he accused her father — a man she held in the highest esteem — of taking advantage of and intruding on the Pierce family, but he had then shown no qualms about dragging Gianna into the midst of a dispute with his brothers and making her settle it.
He thought about flowers as an apology accessory, but decided it would send the wrong message. A houseplant, however, was an unromantic, friendly gift, wasn’t it?
He swung his SUV into the parking lot of Every Bloomin’ Thing after his last appointment of the day. The tiny florist shop, tucked between a hair salon and handmade pottery studio, worked in partnership with Gordon Berkowicz’s seasonal garden center on the edge of town. While Blue Mooners flocked to the garden center for all their spring and summer landscaping needs, they came to Gordon’s younger sister for year-round blooms.
Stepping inside the shop always made him think he was entering a rain forest. The air was thick with the scent of hundreds of blooms. A bubbling indoor water garden provided a peaceful backdrop of noise and color just inside the front door.
From the ceiling hung dozens of planters spilling over with greenery and color.
He found Elizabeth, wearing a lime green smock, behind the counter arranging orange roses and succulents into a glass vase. She wore her curly hair pinned up under a wide paisley headband. Chunky bronze earrings dangled from her ears.
Her make-up-free face brightened when she spotted him.
“Well, hello there, Mr. Mayor. What brings Blue Moon’s fearless leader into my shop today?”
“Hey, Liz,” he greeted her and leaned against the counter, content to watch her work. “I was in the market for a houseplant.”
She efficiently snipped off the ends of the stems before tucking the shears back into her pocket. “Is this a green friend for you or a gift?”
“A gift.”
He watched Liz snake a royal purple ribbon around the neck of the vase with deft fingers. “And what is she like?”
“How do you know she’s a she?” Beckett countered.
Liz arched an eyebrow at him. “Would you buy a man-friend a houseplant?”
“Good point.”
“So, what’s she like? Classical, romantic, studious, serious, playful?”
Beckett brought the image of Gia collapsing out of her handstand and laughing to mind.