Fall Into Temptation (Blue Moon #2) (5 page)

T
oday was
John Pierce’s birthday.

Beckett’s father should have been fifty-eight. But instead, his ashes were scattered on the low ridge that rose above the crooked creek that snaked its way through Pierce Acres.

His father had an eternal view of the best sunsets upstate New York had to offer, but he didn’t have life. He didn’t have a voice. He didn’t have hands to slap his sons on the shoulder or stroke Phoebe’s hair when he thought no one else was looking.

Beckett would have given anything to have just one more conversation with his dad. One more hug. One more look.

But there were no more chances. Just an emptiness where a great man had once been. And the shadow of a new man encroaching.

Was it his fault Phoebe was lonely? Should he have carved out more time for his mother? Was she being taken advantage of? Was the memory of his father starting to fade from their family?

The questions had plagued him all weekend. As had thoughts of a certain redhead, which he found frustrating. A run that morning had done nothing to cool his head or settle his heart.

Maybe an hour at the gym before his late morning appointments in the office would help.

* * *

G
ia peddled
her rubbery legs faster and cursed the need for cardio as the elliptical’s cross-trainer program kicked up the resistance. She was definitely treating herself to a smoothie after this torture.

Monday morning classes — as well as Wednesday and Friday nights — at the yoga studio were covered by Destiny Wheedlemeyer. A free-range chicken raiser, and founder of a very successful knitting store on Etsy, Destiny gave yoga students instructions in a breathy Marilyn Monroe-esque voice and dressed entirely in black.

Gia used Destiny’s Monday class coverage to carve out a bit of free time for handling non-child-related responsibilities. After walking the kids to school — Evan had made her stop two blocks away from the junior high, while Rora had a meltdown at drop off — she headed straight to Fitness Freak for a long cardio session to start the week off right.

Fitness Freak welcomed everyone regardless of physical ability. The front desk was usually manned by a woman named Fran, the coolest person Gia had ever met. Fran had a Mohawk, sleeve tattoos, and a wheelchair. She played bass in a garage band.

The weekday morning trainer at the gym bore a striking resemblance — in appearance and accent — to Dolph Lundgren. And the clientele ran the gamut from retirees in matching tracksuits to third shift semi-competitive body builders.

Her workouts here were a blissful window of responsibility-free enjoyment. No class to lead, no kids to watch, only a good sweat to work up. Fifteen minutes into the elliptical, Gia felt a presence over her shoulder. An irritated one.

“What are you doing here?”

She glanced over her shoulder at Beckett’s frowning face.

“I’m baking cookies. What does it look like?” She mopped her sweaty forehead with her towel.

“You’re everywhere.” Beckett didn’t sound happy about it. In fact, he sounded downright confrontational.

“It’s a small town,” Gia said, trying not to sound out of breath. “It’s bound to happen especially since I live in your backyard.”

Gone was the charming, sexy Beckett that she’d had the pleasure of lusting after. And in his place was a crabby, snippy hot guy. His attitude was as confusing as it was unwelcome. She didn’t get much time to herself. Sharing it with a grumpy neighbor — no matter how attractive — was irritating. And she didn’t know Beckett well enough to warrant him taking out a bad mood on her.

After a long silence, Beckett climbed on the elliptical next to hers.

“You don’t have to be my workout buddy.”

“I might as well since there’s no avoiding you,” Beckett muttered.

“Excuse me?” Gia’s stride faltered before she regained her pace. “Did I do something to upset you?”

He had the good manners to look slightly chagrined. “No. Everything’s fine.”

“Right. Because you sound fine.” She sighed with relief as her elliptical clicked down to a less torturous resistance. “Do you want to talk about it?” she offered.

“No.”

“My dad always says —”

“I don’t need any fatherly advice from him,” Beckett snapped. “I
had
a father. He was a great man and some second-rate substitute isn’t going to take his place.”

“Is that what you think —”

Beckett cut her off again. His face was red and it wasn’t from exertion. “I also don’t need to be analyzed by some kumbaya yogi who thinks we can all get along and that love will conquer all.”

“Okay then. Message received. You don’t like my father dating your mother.”

“I don’t like your father taking advantage of my mother,” he corrected her, stabbing the resistance button on his machine.

“Taking advantage?” She felt the pulse in her head begin to thud, the sure sign of a headache blooming. “Beckett, I think you have the wrong idea.”

“Is his restaurant in trouble? Maybe he’s behind on his mortgage? He needs a little capital to keep things going so he looks for someone with a nest egg. Maybe someone who’s a little lonely. Lays on the charm. A few months later and
bam
! He’s moving in with her.”

“I’m going to stop you right there before you go any further down this rabbit hole,” Gia said. She took a deep breath and then another one, reminding herself not to take it personally. He was lashing out because he was hurting with a pain that was palpable.

And she needed to get out of there before she punched him in the face to give him some real physical pain.

“It sounds like you could use some time alone to work out your feelings,” she said, evenly.

“I could use some time without you and your father popping up everywhere in my life.”

“Too bad about that year lease that I signed.” She pressed the stop button on her machine and grabbed her towel and water bottle. “I hope you feel better.”

* * *

B
eckett didn’t feel
any better when Gianna left the gym. In fact, he felt worse. Now, a sick layer of guilt settled over the simmering anger in his belly. He got off of the elliptical and wiped it and Gia’s abandoned machine down before storming into the locker room.

So much for working off some of the mad before work.

Beckett headed into the gray tiled shower stall where he ducked his head under the water, willing it to wash away the sadness.

He was a mess. A mental mess. Obviously he had overreacted to Gianna. He hadn’t expected to see her there in what he considered his space. The woman was everywhere. His backyard, his childhood home, and now his gym.

His attraction to her frustrated him to no end. He’d never felt so enamored with a woman before. Attracted? Yes. Interested? Yes. But this was different.

Gianna was different.

She wasn’t his type. She was too spontaneous, too vivacious. There was nothing subtle about her, from the flaming red curls to the voluptuous curves and her throaty laugh. He preferred quiet confidence, the restrained beauty of sexy suits and impeccably styled hair. A woman he could discuss the law or the latest Wall Street news with, not someone who challenged him with arguments and teasing until he was lightheaded.

He didn’t want to like her. Topping the list of reasons why was the fact that she was Franklin’s daughter. There wasn’t a scenario on earth that would make him friendly toward Franklin again.

Beckett twisted the faucet, cutting off the stream of water.

And there wasn’t anything that could change the circumstances of his relationship with Gianna. She was his tenant, she had children. Both factors made the complications so steep that it should have only strengthened his resolve to swear off women for the rest of the year.

Trudy had been a mistake, one that he should have seen coming ... and then run full-speed in the opposite direction. While Beckett considered them to be casually dating, the willowy brunette had been measuring his windows for new curtains and practically printing up business cards that said Mrs. Beckett Pierce.

Her biggest mistake had been assuming that being mayor of Blue Moon was just a steppingstone in his political career. She had actually started making inquiries into their district’s congressional election.
“For you, darling. Isn’t it time you look beyond this tiny town?”
she had asked, stroking a manicured hand down his chest.

She didn’t understand why someone “with his education and drive” would want to stay in Blue Moon Bend. She told him he was wasting his potential. He told her they were over.

And in a move that he never saw coming, the erudite twenty-eight-year-old financial advisor set his welcome mat on fire and handcuffed herself to his staircase demanding that he reconsider ending their relationship.

Ellery had taken great pleasure in calling Sheriff Donovan Cardona to take care of the problem. “She was showing you her crazy all along,” his paralegal had told him. “You just weren’t paying attention.”

Cardona had advised Trudy that it would be wise to never show her face near Beckett again and she had pouted off in her Mercedes, tires squealing, presumably to line up a new victim.

It had been enough for Beckett to swear off women for a while. He was grateful that the recent attention from Summer’s article was starting to die down without having reignited Trudy’s interest in him.

Women
, he shook his head.

The thought brought him right back to Gianna and her sexy sea-witch eyes.

What was it about her that had his blood and his ability to reason rushing right out of his head? She would be a mistake.
They
would be a mistake.

At least after the way he had bitten off her head, she wouldn’t be open to making that mistake with him. He dragged a towel through his hair. It wasn’t like him to snap like that. Instead of maintaining an aloof coolness, he had gone temper tantrum on her. He would have to apologize.

Just as soon as he could be sure he wouldn’t lose his control again and yell at her or, worse, grab her and kiss her until they were both shaking.

Just as soon as he completely understood the out-of-control twin urges to push her away and claim her as his.

* * *

B
eckett went
about his business the rest of the day and blocked out all thoughts of the redheaded temptress. He kept his office door closed and stayed focused on work. Both of his appointments went well and he was able to squeeze in a return call to Bruce Oakleigh on the man’s concerns regarding the proposed Halloween parade route. He considered it a success when the call only took thirty-two minutes.

A pop in by the Fincher brothers kept him occupied for the rest of the afternoon. The flannel-clad siblings ran a campground outside of town and were arguing about buying more property.

After the argument was settled and the Finchers were on their way, Beckett thought about texting his brothers to see if they would meet him tonight on the farm to drink a toast to their father at sunset, but decided against it. It was an unofficial tradition that he and Carter had shared in the years since his brother came home from Afghanistan.