“Incredible in bed. Like life-threateningly amazing in bed. I’m worried I might die from pleasure.”
“I so hate you right now,” Eva groaned, pushing her glasses up her nose.
“If I were you I’d hate me, too,” Gia agreed.
She heard the knock and bolted off the bed. “Oh my God. He’s here? How do I look?”
“You look a little wild-eyed and crazy, but the rest of you looks smokin’,” Eva assured her.
“Okay, I gotta go.”
“Yeah, yeah. Go to dinner and get laid. I’ll just sit here and find that old gum commercial on YouTube.”
Gia disconnected and took one last look in the mirror before hurrying to her front door.
Beckett had pulled out all the stops in the wardrobe department, too, she noted. He wore a navy suit with a gray patterned tie. Glossy shoes in a delicious shade of caramel matched his belt.
His hair, with its slight waves on top, begged for her fingers to explore it. Those smoky eyes, an exact match for the tie, swept her from head-to-toe. She felt his gaze as distinctly as if it were his hands exploring her body.
“Hi,” she said, a little breathlessly.
He grinned that devilish grin and Gia felt her temperature rise by a few degrees.
“Hi,” he responded. “You look good enough to eat.”
“Oh, no.” She shook her head. “You’re not getting out of feeding me, Mr. Pierce. This is a dinner date.”
He took her hand and brushed it with his lips, sending a zing of current through her veins. “Then I can’t wait for dessert.”
Was it too old-fashioned to swoon? Gia wondered.
Beckett’s other hand flashed out from behind his back grasping a clutch of flowers in oranges, reds, and yellows.
“Oh, you’re good,” Gia said with delight, burying her face in the blooms. “You brought me a bouquet of fall.”
“I’m prepared to date the hell out of you so be prepared to be seduced, Red.”
It sounded like a threat.
“Let me put these in water,” she said, heading into the kitchen. “Would you like a drink before we go?”
He hummed. “I think it would be best if we left. Otherwise, I’ll be tempted to drag you to bed.”
Gia, feeling safer with the island between them, laughed. She found a gold crackle vase on the top shelf of one of the cabinets and arranged the flowers in it. “Where are you taking me tonight?”
“It’s a surprise,” Beckett said, eyeing her as she set the vase on the kitchen table. “I think you’ll like it.”
“Karma Kustard?” she teased.
He reached for her hand and pulled her in. “I thought we’d try some place a little more romantic.” His thumb skimmed her palm. “And a little less Blue Moon.”
“I’m intrigued,” she said, savoring the warmth of him against her.
“You look beautiful, Gianna,” Beckett said, cupping her face in his hand.
“Thank you. So do you,” Gia flushed. “Handsome, I mean.”
They stood touching, gazes locked, for a beat and then two.
“I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to looking at you,” Beckett said finally. He leaned in and down. Gia’s lips parted with jagged anticipation. But instead of brushing her mouth with his, he kissed the tip of her nose and pulled back with a regretful sigh.
“Come on, beautiful. Let’s go to dinner.”
He helped her into her wool trench, hands lingering on her shoulders and sweeping her fiery curls off of her neck. And with another sigh, Beckett led her out the door.
He drove them north, his headlights catching leaves as they tumbled free and floated from their branches. A symphony played quietly through the speakers of his SUV.
“Are you a fan of classical?” Gia asked.
Beckett took her hand and held it. “Mom was very big on music so growing up we got quite the eclectic education. She always had a radio on. Of course we always did battle to listen to ‘our’ music,” he smiled at the memory. “Then when Carter came home hurt, we noticed his anxiety was better with music. I guess Mozart and Beethoven got their hooks in me then, too.”
Gia squeezed his hand. “It’s peaceful. Was it hard seeing Carter like that?”
She tried to imagine the calm, steady man she knew riddled with emotional wounds.
Beckett cleared his throat. “It wasn’t easy. He left my brother and came back someone none of us recognized. But he found his way back again.”
“And you helped,” Gia said.
He shrugged. “Everyone did. Mom smothered him in a way only she could get away with. Jax checked in every day with ridiculous Hollywood stories until he could fly home. We had a lot of help on the farm and in the kitchen. That’s one thing we know how to do in Blue Moon, shove our help down your throat.”
Gia smiled. She could see it, a never-ending line of casserole-wielding neighbors winding its way through Pierce Acres.
“And what did you do?”
“I punched him in the face. Repeatedly.”
Gia blinked. “I beg your pardon?”