by Lucy Score
“That’s a very sweet offer,” Gia said. “Is it bribery?”
“Yes, but you can still bring them over if I don’t win.” His drop dead gorgeous grin told Gia that Carter was used to getting his way.
“Here,” Jax said, grasping her hand. “I brought you this.” He dropped a shiny red apple into her palm.
“An apple for the teacher,” Gia laughed. “You’re a sneaky one.”
He winked at her. “You’re damn right.”
“Gianna —” Beckett tried once again to get her attention, but he was elbowed out of the way by Jax as his brother headed toward his mat.
The rest of the Gia’s Tuesday night regulars began to trickle in and prevented Beckett from getting close enough to have that conversation he seemed to so desperately want. If he was as competitive as his brothers, she could only imagine the apology he had planned. Sincere with just enough flattery to give him a leg up in the competition.
It gave her a sinful tingle of pleasure to know that his plan wasn’t working.
Bill Fitzsimmons scurried in and waved to her. He was a strange little man, but an excellent student. Although, she wouldn’t complain if he stopped wearing those tiny little shorts to class. He shook hands with each of the Pierce brothers and rolled out his mat next to Carter.
She watched Carter’s face as Fitz took off his sweatpants with a flourish. Gia had to cover her mouth and look away when the look of revulsion washed over his face. Carter slapped Jax on the shoulder and both of them stared in horror as Fitz began his warm up stretches in his tiny yoga briefs.
“Dude,” Jax hissed at Fitz. “You can’t wear that here. There are ladies present.”
“And people with eyes,” Carter added.
Fitz chuckled and ignored them. He spread his legs wide for a stretch and Jax gagged.
Gia bit her lip to keep from laughing. She glanced at Beckett and found him paying no attention to the Fitz show. He was watching her. She met his gaze and held it. The intensity in those gray eyes seared her to the bone. Want and frustration simmered between them in a silent, solid connection.
The spell was broken when the football players showed up, each giving her a fist bump as they passed.
When Gia dared spare another glance at Beckett, he had been dragged into a heated conversation with his brothers and Jax was gesturing wildly at Fitz.
Taneisha, stunning in purple capris and a filmy white tank, paused by Gia’s mat. “Beckett’s back?” she whispered, her perfectly groomed eyebrows winging up. “I thought he was going to need CPR after the last class.”
“He and his brothers are settling some kind of competition here.”
Taneisha rolled her eyes. “They do this periodically. Once in high school they battled it out to see who could eat the most tacos.”
“Who won?”
“Jax with twenty-four.”
“Impressive,” Gia laughed. “Let’s just hope they didn’t do any competitive eating before this class.”
She hid a chuckle when Taneisha set up her mat as far away from the Pierces as possible. “Splatter zone,” she mouthed to Gia.
After another few minutes, Gia got the class started with some gentle forward bends and easy rounds of sun salutation. She kept an eye on the Pierces, making sure they were keeping up and moving safely through the poses.
As she wandered past them in warrior one, she heard Jax mutter “Piece of cake.”
Gia grinned wickedly. “Okay, now that we’re warmed up let’s flow.”
She ran them through another dozen sun salutations. By the fourth one, Jax was sweating. By the sixth, all three of them had followed Fitz’s lead and shucked off their shirts. On the next salutation, she had to step in to start making adjustments.
She squared off Carter’s hips in warrior one and made Jax tremble when she made him bring his knees off the ground in the up dog flow. “Piece of cake, right?” She winked.
“Oh dear God,” he whimpered as a bead of sweat dripped off his nose.
Beckett seemed to be faring a little better, so on the last sun salutation she had the class hold chair pose. The groans were music to her ears. “That’s right. Sink lower into your hips,” she said, placing her hands on Beckett’s hips guiding him to lower.
“Good,” she smiled when she felt his legs begin to shake. “Now straighten your arms.” She skimmed her hands up his arms until they reached straight for the ceiling. “Engage here,” she said, dancing her fingers over his trapezius muscles.
His breath was coming in short gasps now. “Keep your arms reaching up but lower your shoulders.” She tried to keep the smile out of her tone, but knew she failed when he shot her a glare around his shaky arm.
She heard a couple of groans echo around the room and knew they’d all had enough torture. “Great job. Let’s fold forward and shake it out.”
The groans of agony turned to sighs of relief, at least until she announced that hip openers were next.
Class ended with the Pierce brothers in sweaty heaps on their mats.
“I feel like I got hit by a meteor,” Jax whispered into his mat. “A really hot one.”
“I feel like a rubber band that was stretched until it tore in half and now it’s completely useless,” Carter sighed.
Beckett, still sprawled across his mat with his eyes closed, grinned. “I feel like a wet washcloth that was wrung out and thrown on the floor.”
“I’m so glad we didn’t let the girls come tonight.” Carter rolled onto his side.
“Summer and Joey wanted to come?” Gia asked, as she picked up the mat sanitizer.
“They would never let us live this down. They’d be looming over us taking pictures for Blue Moon Gossip or The Monthly Moon,” Beckett guessed.
Gia thought it wise not to mention the fact that she’d seen both Fitz and Taneisha whip out their phones after class.
“How do people just get up and walk out of here?” Jax asked, opening an eye to watch the football players bounce out with as much energy as when they arrived.
Gia dropped a cold water bottle in front of each of their mats. “It gets easier,” she promised.
Beckett dragged himself into a seated position and swiped the bottle over his sweaty forehead. “Thank you,” he said, before guzzling the contents.
“That Fitz is one flexible freak,” Carter groaned, trying to work his way into a seated position.
“The image of him in that yoga diaper is going to haunt me for the rest of my life,” Jax said, covering his eyes.
“Gia, I swear, next poker night we’re going to talk to him about his yoga wardrobe,” Carter promised. “I had no idea he was inflicting this kind of visual abuse on your class.”
“And, Gia, I promise you that I’m going to clean this up, but I have to do this. I can’t stop smelling myself.” Jax promptly dumped the bottle of water over his head.
“Jesus, Hollywood,” Beckett said, slapping his brother on the back of the head.
“He needed to do it,” Carter argued. “I wouldn’t have let him in the truck smelling like that.”
“Get a freaking towel at least.” Beckett threw his sopping wet sweat towel in Jax’s face.
“That’s disgusting. You smell worse than me!” Jax threatened to dump the rest of his water over Beckett until Carter punched him in the ribs.
“Get a fucking towel,” he ordered.
Jax crawled over to the towel bin. “Do you have anything in a body-size?” he asked.
“Gianna, maybe now we could have that talk,” Beckett suggested.
“Right. The contest,” she said, purposely misunderstanding Beckett’s overture. “I’m surprised none of you asked who won. So who feels like a winner?”
When none of them said anything, she smiled. “Good.”
Jax paused his floor and mat scrubbing to look at her. “It was a three-way losers tie, wasn’t it? Man, I had no idea yoga would be so …”
“Horrible?” Carter supplied.
“Painful?”
Beckett offered.
“Amazing?” Gia interjected.
“Most of the above,” Jax decided.
“Yoga has a way of highlighting both your strengths and weaknesses,” Gia told them. “For instance, Jax, your flexibility is great.”
“Thanks,” he brightened. “I took a bunch of Pilates classes with this actress I dated a few years ago.”
“The one with the …” Carter held his hands to his chest like he was clutching a pair of watermelons.
“No, that was Didi. I think those would have hindered her in any actual physical activity.”
Gia rolled her eyes, but continued. “Carter, you have incredible upper body strength. Those arm balances you did today aren’t beginner’s poses.”
“What about my strengths?” Beckett asked, watching her closely.
“Awh,” Jax cooed. “The middle brother’s feeling left out.”
Beckett gave Jax a boot with his foot and sent his brother sprawling across his soggy mat.
“Your endurance is great. You could do sun salutations all day.”
“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.
“Playful … and romantic.”
“A free spirit?” Liz tucked a blank card into the arrangement she’d just finished.
“Definitely. She likes to laugh. She’s very … warm.”
“And what’s the occasion?”
An apology for being an asshole, Beckett thought.
“Housewarming,” he said instead.
“I’ve got the perfect thing,” Liz said, wiping her hands on a towel. “Come with me.”
She led Beckett through a tangle of hanging plants and potted ferns to a corner display of glass globes. “This is what I’m thinking,” she said, holding up one of the globes. Tucked inside were tiny airy plants and mosses.
“A fairy garden,” Beckett said, lifting the globe higher. “It’s perfect. It’s exactly her.”
“We’ll make one just for her,” Liz said, collecting plants and opening drawers.
In the end, Beckett settled on an open globe that was flat on the bottom. They selected tiny tufts of moss and delicate stalks of greenery and tucked them into the globe on a foundation of rich earth.
“Any fairy accessories?” Liz asked.
After a considerable amount of deliberation, Beckett chose a delicate bench made out of twigs and two river rocks with the words family and home etched into them.
“You’re very good at this,” Liz said, leading him back to the cash register. “Any time you want to give up mayoring and the law, you come see me. I’ll put you to work.”
“Thanks, Liz. I’ll keep that in mind next time the town meeting runs amuck,” Beckett grinned.
Prize in hand, Beckett didn’t even bother going inside when he got home. He marched down the driveway and around the garage to the backyard.
He hopped up onto the front porch of the guesthouse and rapped on the door.
“Come in.” He heard Evan and Aurora call out together.
&
nbsp; Beckett pushed open the front door and stepped inside. Aurora was sitting on the stairs, her little chin in her hands. “Hi, Bucket,” she said sadly.
A dejected Evan was frowning at the laptop on the dining table and reluctantly making notes with a pencil and paper.
The mood was definitely somber.
“What’s going on?” Beckett asked.
“We’re being punished,” Evan sighed heavily.
“I’m in time out,” Aurora piped up.
“And Gia’s making me write a 100-word essay on the poetry of some guy named Rumi.”
“Where’s your … Gianna?” Beckett asked.
“In da shed,” Aurora answered. “Can you ask her if I can be done in time out, Bucket? Please?”
“I’ll see what I can do,” he promised. “Evan, if your essay goes by word count, make sure you copy and paste some of the poems. That’ll make it longer.”
Evan perked up. “Nice! Thanks!”
Beckett headed back outside to the shed in the corner of his fenced in lot. He’d never used it and had thrown it in with the rental of the guesthouse for additional storage. He was a little curious to see what Gia was storing in the shed. She didn’t seem like the years of paperwork kind of woman. Maybe she had a secret crafting hobby. Scrapbooking, perhaps?
Nope.
A wooden tug on the door revealed his little redheaded fairy whaling on a heavy bag.
She was still dressed for class in a tank top and tights, he watched the muscles in her shoulders and arms ripple with each punch.
Gianna was in the beat down zone. Her hands were wrapped, her feet were bare, and earbuds prevented her from hearing him open the door.
The bag, suspended from one of the shed’s rafters, was the only item inside the shed.
Beckett crossed his arms and watched. The longer she beat on the bag, the madder she looked.
She spotted him as she swung around for a spin kick and bared her teeth.
Spoiling for a fight, he thought. Gianna yanked the buds out of her ears and rounded on Beckett. “I suppose you’re here to pile on, too? Maybe tell me what a horrible man my father is again? Or accuse me of stalking you? Or how about you just jump on the bandwagon and try to drive me insane, too?”
