“Well, that’ll keep me up tonight.”
Beckett leaned down and gently kissed the tip of her nose. “You should probably get back in there before they decide to see who can fit in the microwave. They looked pretty miserable when I stopped in.”
“It’s a trick. Don’t fall for the puppy eyes. Especially Rora’s. She’s got them down to a science.”
“I’ll say. I felt like my guts had been ripped out and then trampled.”
“I’m suddenly in a much better mood,” she said with a slow grin.
“Happy to help. I’d say anytime, but if we do this again it won’t stop at kissing.” It was a dark promise.
He turned her around and pushed her through the door in front of him.
“What’s this?” she asked, spotting the glass globe on the ground.
“I forgot. It’s your housewarming slash apology-for-being-an-asshole gift,” Beckett said, picking it up and handing it over.
“Beckett!” She peered through the glass. “It’s a fairy garden. I’ve always wanted one — how did you know?” She looked up at him, wonder and surprise written all over her beautiful face.
“Stop looking at me like that,” he said gruffly.
“Like what?”
“Like you want to go back in the shed.”
Her face transformed to a wicked temptress. “Oh, but I do,” she said with a slow wink.
“Gianna, get in your house, now,” he ordered.
“Thank you, Beckett. For everything.”
“Bring the kids over in half an hour. And for God’s sake, please wear something baggy.”
11
Gia decided not to tempt fate, or Beckett, and wore yoga pants and a long sleeve wrap sweater in a safe, bland gray to dinner.
When she announced they were having dinner at Beckett’s, Evan had shot her a skeptical look while Aurora immediately ran upstairs to find her shoes.
They trooped across the stretch of grass from their front door to Beckett’s back. He was waiting for them in the kitchen and let them in before Gia had a chance to knock. He’d changed too, she noticed. Gone was the dark suit she’d been tempted to wrestle him out of and in its place he’d donned a pair of chinos and a lightweight sweater with the sleeves shoved up to his elbows.
He sent her a warning look when he caught her studying the way the soft navy fabric stretched across his broad chest and shoulders. Gia gave him an embarrassed smile and slipped off her shoes inside the door.
“Thank you for having us over for dinner,” she said, politely. As her lips quirked, she was painfully aware of what her mouth had been doing half an hour earlier.
Beckett sent her another smoldering glance before answering. “Thanks for coming over. I needed help eating all this pizza.”
Evan perked up. “Pepperoni?” he asked.
Beckett’s eyebrows winged up. “Is there any other kind?”
“There’s cheese,” Evan reminded him, toying with the dishtowel on the counter he leaned against.
“I got one of those, too.”
“I want cheese, Bucket,” Aurora said, wrapping her sweet little arms around his legs.
Beckett leaned down and picked her up. “Are you vegetarian?” he frowned.
Evan snorted and Gia let Beckett explain an admittedly slanted view of vegetarianism while she scoped out his kitchen. The daughter of a restaurateur was required by DNA to place great value on that particular room in the home. Gia considered herself to be a creative, reliable cook. The kids only really complained when she went too far toward the creative side. Like with last week’s Thai coconut soup.
It was a large, airy kitchen, most of which had been modernized, but one wall of original glass-fronted cabinetry stoically stood the test of time. He’d gone with dark cabinets and glossy marble everywhere else. The upper cabinets, that at one time flanked the sink, had been removed to allow for a large window overlooking the backyard.
A worn butcher-block island, lit by a pair of oil-rubbed lanterns that hung from the tin tiled ceiling, dominated the center of the room. Judging from the stack of law journals and other mail, she imagined it was where Beckett took most of his meals.
The mosaic tile floor extended into a cozy breakfast nook on the other side of the back door. There he’d chosen a round pedestal table in black surrounded by armless chairs covered in a creamy white upholstery.
Gia made a mental note not to let Aurora and her pizza fingers anywhere near those chairs.
Beckett enlisted their help in carting plates, glasses, and utensils into the dining room. Gia tried not to gape, but every room she walked into was more magnificent than the last. The dining room had high ceilings and glass-front built-ins in two corners. A small fireplace with marble surround occupied the space between the room’s two windows. An honest to goodness chandelier hung over the long, rectangular table.
“How many fireplaces do you have?” Gia asked.
“A lot. Would you like a tour?” Beckett offered.