Fall Into Temptation (Blue Moon #2) (22 page)

“Wow,” Gia said, gripping her bag.

“I haven’t even taken my pants off, yet.”

Gia slapped Beckett on the arm. “Funny guy.”

“Let’s get you fed so I can take you home and find out what you have on under that dress,” Beckett said, his fingers tracing her thigh just under the hem.

“Just consider it dessert,” she said, leaning closer and licking her lips. She gave him her best sultry look.

“Evil woman,” Beckett said blowing out his breath and getting out of the driver’s seat.

They were seated immediately in a cozy corner near a crackling fireplace. Their table offered a view of the moonlight as it sparkled on the lake’s dark waters.

“Very, very nice, Beckett,” Gia said after the server, a young man with a slight French accent, took their drink order.

Beckett took her hands on the crisp white linen tablecloth. “I’m glad you approve.”

“You’re very good at dating, aren’t you?” Gia said, raising an eyebrow.

“Aren’t you?”

“I’m not sure if I’ve ever been on an actual date. Certainly nothing like this,” she said admiring the room. The dining room was a wash of white walls and tall windows. The fireplace that warmed Gia’s back was clad in a rustic, local stone. Aged oak floors washed in a light gray carried from the foyer all the way through to the patio doors facing the lake.

Candle flames flickered on every table.

“Then your previous partners were sadly lacking,” Beckett told her.

“You may be right,” she agreed.

When he looked at her, Gia felt like he was looking into her. Probing every dark corner for secrets. There was so much behind those smoldering eyes.

“What?” she asked, when his face turned serious.

“You deserve better.”

“That’s why I’m here,” she said lightly.

The waiter returned with their wine and recited the night’s specials. After an internal debate about which entrée would be most conducive to their after-dinner plans, Gia selected the corn chowder and grilled salmon. Beckett went with red meat.

They sipped and chatted, flirted and teased. Both enjoying the simple traditions of the time-honored date.

I
t wasn’t
until Beckett fed her a tender forkful of his steak that Gia noticed the bitter attention of another patron. The woman was tall and impeccably dressed in a fitted black sheath dress. Her dark hair was pulled back in a chic chignon. And her heavily made-up eyes were shooting poisoned darts at Gia.

She was certain she’d never seen the woman before in her life and did her best to ignore the weight of her gaze. But when Beckett reached across their little table to brush a curl back behind her ear, the woman tossed her napkin down on her plate and looked like she was about to spit flames hot enough to incinerate her dinner date.

The woman obviously had something to say, so Gia decided to give her an opportunity. She excused herself and went to the restroom, making sure to walk past the stranger’s table. She was checking her teeth for food when the door opened swiftly enough to create a brisk breeze.

“Hello,” Gia greeted her.

The woman stormed in on truly beautiful stilettos that put her a good six inches taller than Gia. She stopped two sinks down and crossed her arms. Everything about her was angry.

“So you’re my replacement?” she finally said. Her tone told Gia the woman wasn’t impressed with what she saw. “You look like the rest of those idiot hippies in that pathetic town.”

Gia decided it best to remain silent and waited.

She withstood the woman’s head to toe review and derisive sniff. “You’re certainly not Beckett’s type. How does it feel to be a rebound?”

“A rebound?” Gia pretended to ponder. “Well, to be honest, if that’s what I am, it feels really, really good.”

The woman uncrossed her arms and clenched her fists at her sides. A diamond tennis bracelet glittered on one wrist. A cloud of Chanel No. Five tickled Gia’s nose.

“He’ll come to his senses sooner or later and drop you back in whatever gutter he found you. He needs someone with sophistication and style. Not some frizzy haired child who makes her own goat milk soap.”

Whoever this woman was, she had definitely spent some time in Blue Moon,
Gia thought.

“I’m assuming you two used to date?”

“Used to date? I’m
Trudy
,” she said her own name as if Gia should have it tattooed on her body somewhere. “We were practically engaged. We understood each other,” the woman purred, crossing her arms again and drumming her garnet fingernails on her own skin.

Gia decided to give her a win. “Oh,
Trudy,
of course!”

“And we’ll be back together just as soon as he gets you and your silly little town out of his system.”

Gia debated the threat level and decided it was relatively low. She slid up on the vanity and let her legs dangle. The woman, who had clearly never slouched a day in her life, sneered at Gia’s informality.

“It sounds like you two were really serious,” Gia prompted.

“We were … are,” she corrected herself. “It was just a tiny misunderstanding.”

“Misunderstandings happen all the time.”

“There was no reason for him to call that bumbling sheriff.”

Oh boy.

“He must have just panicked,” Gia said sympathetically.

“It was only a small fire. I don’t know what the big deal was.” The brunette shrugged her courtesy-of-a-personal-trainer shoulders.

“Men have a tendency to overreact, don’t they?”

“They certainly do. Take my date for instance,” she said, turning her attention to her reflection. “He insisted that I was blowing this out of proportion. But I know that Beckett
knew
I’d be here and he brought you here just to rub you in my face.”

“What’s your date like?” Gia asked, changing the subject.

The fingernails tapped faster. “Thomas? He’s …” She trailed off searching for words.

“He’s very good-looking,” Gia supplied, not sure if it was true, as she hadn’t actually seen his face.

“Yes,” Trudy nodded. “And he doesn’t come from some bucolic hellhole that smells like patchouli.”

“Well that’s definitely a point in his favor,” Gia decided.

“And he’s going to leave his wife in the spring, so there’s that,” Trudy said, continuing to tally the points. “Tax reasons, of course.”

“Of course,” Gia nodded.

There was a knock on the bathroom door.

“Come in,” Gia called cheerily.

The married, tax-conscious Thomas poked his head in the door. He looked relieved when he didn’t spot any blood.

“I’m so sorry. I’ve been monopolizing Trudy. I’m sure you two want to get back to your romantic dinner,” Gia said apologetically.

“Uh. Yeah.” Thomas didn’t sound very enthusiastic.

“It was really nice to meet you,” Gia said, sliding off the vanity. “Have a great night.” She skirted around Trudy and Thomas held the door for her.

Gia settled back in her seat across from Beckett.

“I was starting to get worried,” he said, his hand snaking out to grab hers.

“I think we should go,” Gia said firmly.

Beckett glanced down at his plate and half-finished steak and then back up at Gia.

“Check please.” With the check paid and the leftovers hastily boxed, Gia led the way out holding Beckett’s hand. When they passed Trudy’s table she felt Beckett stumble and then suddenly he was leading the way, dragging her out of the restaurant.

Gia hid her smile.

“Are you sure you don’t mind leaving? We could go back in for dessert,” she said sweetly.

Beckett opened her door and all but shoved her into the seat. “No. Let’s get you home,” he said, slamming the door in her face and jogging to the driver’s side. He accelerated out of the parking lot so fast the SUV fishtailed and Gia had to bite her lip to keep from laughing.

“Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she said, putting her hand on his thigh.

Beckett accelerated harder. “Nope. Everything is fine. Just excited to get home and …”

“See what I have on under my dress?” Gia prompted.

“Huh?”

“Do you want to talk about Trudy?”

Beckett’s foot slipped off the gas pedal. “Fuck.”

Gia did laugh now.

“You wouldn’t be laughing if you knew —”

“About the fire?” Gia asked innocently.

“So she followed you into the bathroom. Damnit. I purposely picked this place so we could have a nice, romantic dinner away from the prying eyes of Blue Moon. And instead I march you into the she devil’s den.”

“Tell me about the fire,” Gia laughed.

“Why are you laughing? You were just cornered by a succubus.”

“She didn’t do anything awful. She just told me I would never be the Mrs. Beckett Pierce that she would because I’m a — and I’m paraphrasing here — gutter-raised, soap-making dirty hippie.”

Beckett stepped on the brakes. “I’m going back there and murdering her. I don’t think any court would convict me.”

Gia laid a hand on his arm. “Beckett, it’s fine. The whole thing was funny and a little sad. I got to meet her boyfriend, Thomas. He’s married, but as soon as he gets his refund in the spring he’s filing for divorce.”

Beckett covered his face with his hands and growled in frustration.

“She had no right to verbally attack you. Mrs. Beckett Pierce, my ass. That woman was gunning for a proposal from day one and when I called it off, you know what she did?”

“She set something on fire.”

“She set my welcome mat on fire and you know what she did while I was hosing it off?”

“No, but I bet it’s something really good.”

“She handcuffed herself to the stairs in the foyer and said she wasn’t leaving until I gave her another chance.”

“Ah. So that’s how she became acquainted with Sheriff Cardona.”

“You two sure had a lot to say,” Beckett grumbled.

“She’s a peach. How long did you date?”

“I think it was a grand total of three weeks. She brought a tape measure with her to get drapery measurements.”

Gia snickered.

“You shouldn’t be laughing. The woman insulted you and tried to make you feel insecure about our relationship. On our first fucking date!”

“Well, I mean the woman is clearly gorgeous and ruthless with impeccable taste. I would have felt deeply insecure if I didn’t have such a leg up in the sanity department,” Gia placated.

“She say anything else?”

“Only that Blue Moon is a bucolic, patchouli-scented hellhole and that you
will
give her another chance.”

He swore again. “I’d better call Cardona and make sure she doesn’t go poking her nose around our place.”

Gia felt a warm tickle in her belly.
Our place.

“Pull over.” Her words were quiet, but they carried the weight of urgency.

Beckett immediately veered for the side of the road. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling okay?” He found a small pull-off, shrouded in trees, and threw the SUV into park.

“What —”

His question was cut off by Gia’s sneak attack. She released her seatbelt and dove across the console, lips finding his mouth.

It took Beckett no time at all to catch up.

“Here?” he whispered the word against her mouth, hands seeking out her curves.

“Here,” Gia groaned. She invaded his mouth with her tongue. She could taste the wine he’d had with dinner. Stroking and sighing, she explored his mouth while his fingers dug into her waist.

“God, I could taste you for days,” he murmured.

“Let’s start now,” she suggested in a breathy whisper.

Beckett’s hand snaked under her dress, fingers exploring. She knew the second he found her sexy garter because he growled low and dangerous. She felt powerful, craved.

He hooked an arm around her waist and threw open his door. Dragging her across the console and out the door, Gia didn’t have a chance to catch her breath before he was placing her on the hood.

Moonlight filtered through the trees, the night air was cold, but Gia was warmed by Beckett’s body. Her hands slid under his jacket, caressing the warmth of his chest, his broad, strong back.

He ranged himself between her legs, his mouth never leaving hers.

“So fucking beautiful,” he told her as his lips cruised over her jaw, down her neck. His hands buried themselves in her hair. “You’re in my dreams. Every night. And when I wake up, you’re not there.”

“Beckett,” Gia sighed his name. “Please don’t stop touching me.”

His hands abandoned her hair in favor of her legs. He started at her knees and slid his palms higher. Over the lace edge of her thigh high to the elastic strap of the garter, taking her dress with him, sliding it higher and higher.

“I want you to be there, Gianna.”

“I’m here now,” she shivered out the words. Her heels found purchase on the bumper, which she used for leverage to grind against him. She could feel the length of him, solid and aching through too many layers of clothing. Her fingers dug into his back, begging him, needing him.

He fumbled with his belt and Gia felt her breath leave her as he freed himself. He was magnificent, painfully perfect. The epitome of desire. She felt her lip quiver, need and greed racing through her.

He shoved her dress up another inch, spread her knees farther apart. His eyes, lit from within with desire, sharpened, his jaw tightened when he realized there were no more barriers between them.

Gia would have patted herself on the back for skipping underwear if she wasn’t already enthralled by his spell.

“Watch,” Beckett ordered her, his voice as rough as the gravel beneath his feet. He guided his crown to her slick center, he stroked down the length of his shaft once, twice, each time parting her folds with the blunt tip of his erection.

Enthralled, Gia watched as he penetrated her slowly, finally. Her sigh of submission threaded its way around his groan of possession. “Watch us, Red,” he said again as he began to move in her.

In the moonlight, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the demonstration of his rule over her. Sliding in and out, slick from her desire, he gave and took. She wasn’t cold anymore, she was on fire.

She wanted to say it, to tell him that he had her body, her soul, her heart. But there were no words. Only the breath, the beat of the heart, the silent knowing that they were finally complete.

His strokes came faster, harder, layers of control stripping away, and she knew he fought against the sharp teeth of release. Knowing how dark his desire for her was, knowing that she had the power to make him forget his restraint, to let go and leap, Gia felt the truth in her body.

Gripping his tie, she flowed backward, draping over the hood. The waves licked at her, through her, and she gave herself over to the glory of them. Gia heard his half-shout. Her name, always her name. She let him carry them both into the abyss.

* * *

S
aturday morning had
Gia waking sore and satisfied in Beckett’s bed.

“God, I could get used to this,” Beckett said, his voice muffled by pillow.

She stretched luxuriously before snuggling back into him. “Yeah, your bed is way more comfortable than mine.”

He pinched her under the covers. “That’s not what I meant,” his voice heavy with sleep.

His hand skimmed down her naked back and she winced. “Is that a bumper-sized bruise on my butt?”