Fall Into Temptation (Blue Moon #2) (3 page)

“She’s great,” he said, keeping it at that.

They turned down another tree-lined street where the streetlights were spaced further apart. “Do you live on this street?” he asked her, frowning.

Gianna nodded and smiled. “I do. It’s such a great neighborhood.”

“I know. It’s my neighborhood.”

“Well, this is me.” Gianna stopped on the sidewalk, her eyes sparkling.

“This isn’t you. This is me. I live here,” Beckett argued. The realization hit him as the words came out of his mouth.

“Hi, neighbor,” Gianna said, cocking her head to the side.

“You’re my new tenant.” He was a dumbass. A complete and total dumbass and Gianna had the pleasure of witnessing his idiocy over and over again.

She nodded. “I knew you’d figure it out eventually.”

He had literally walked her to his own doorstep before realizing it. He was slipping. Yoga must have destroyed his brain.

“Ellery took care of the paperwork and your check while I was out of the country,” he said, slowly piecing it all together.

“She did. She’s a pretty amazing asset, by the way,” Gianna said.

“She is.” And his amazing asset had probably assumed he introduced himself to his new tenant when he came home. In fact, if he hadn’t been daydreaming about the redhead before him he probably would have heard Ellery telling him Gianna was his tenant. Her “good fit” comment suddenly made a lot more sense.

“How long have you known?” he winced.

Gianna looked like she was enjoying herself. “Since you introduced yourself at the ribbon-cutting. What kind of tenant would I be if I didn’t know my own landlord’s name?”

Shit.

“You’re my tenant.” He said it again as the implication settled. It didn’t matter how attractive he found Gianna Decker. They had a professional relationship that must be maintained.

“This is —”

“Complicated,” she finished for him. “You’re lucky, Mr. Pierce, that I’ve sworn off complications and mistakes. Because, otherwise, I would have found you irresistible.”

“Irresistible how?” Beckett asked before he thought better of it.

Gianna stood on her tiptoes and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. “Thanks for walking me home, Beckett.”

She turned away from him and followed the walkway around the side of his house to the backyard.

Beckett touched his cheek and frowned after her. It was the second time she had kissed him and he wasn’t going to lie. It wasn’t enough.

* * *

“
W
hat’s
with the dopey grin?” Evan demanded when Gia let herself in the front door.

“I don’t have a dopey grin. I have a self-satisfied grin. That’s totally different,” she corrected him.

“Whatever,” he sighed, and went back to his homework at the dining table.

“How’s it going?” Gia asked, settling in next to him.

He shrugged his shoulders and frowned at the book in front of him.

“What do you think about school here so far?” Gia opened her water bottle and drank deeply.

Evan shrugged again. “It’s okay, I guess.”

“Is it a lot different?”

“There’s a girl in my class named Oceana,” Evan said, refreshing the screen of his tablet. He scrolled through some pictures and opened one. “This is her.”

Gia peered at Oceana’s school photo on the screen. In any other town in America, the perky little blonde would have been a cheerleader. In Blue Moon, she wore a hand-crocheted vest and lived on a sheep farm.

“This town is weird,” Evan announced.

“I agree. Weird good or weird bad?”

“Mostly weird good. I guess. Like the teachers don’t make us sit too long and stuff. They make us take stretching breaks, kind of like your classes. But the lunches are weird bad. At my old school we had pizza and nachos and stuff. Here they have this quinoa casserole crap.”

Gia swallowed a laugh. “Maybe we should look at packing your lunch a couple days a week?”

Evan nodded. “I think that would be for the best.”

“Your dad call tonight?” Gia asked, taking another drink of water.

“Nope.”

She automatically squashed the annoyance and the desire to make an excuse for Evan’s father. She and Paul had worked out a call schedule that promised the kids reliable, consistent communication with their father so he could stay up on what was happening with them.

And as was typical with her ex-husband, he continued to flake out on them, blissfully unaware of the damage that his inconsistency and lack-of-presence did to their little family.

Gia changed the subject. “How was Rora for you tonight?”

“She was good. She only made me watch two episodes of that dumb whiny cartoon.”

Gia rolled her eyes heavenward. “She has to grow out of that show eventually, right? Every time it’s on I want to put a frying pan through the TV.”

“Yeah.” Evan rewarded her with a small smile.

“So, listen. This was my last Friday night class. I have another teacher who is going to take over the time slot. So that means just Tuesday and Thursday night classes for me. How do you feel about being Aurora’s official, compensated guardian on those nights?”

Evan leaned back and crossed his arms. His hazel eyes narrowed. “What kind of compensation are we talking?”

“For watching your sister from 5:30 to 7:30 I’m prepared to offer you five dollars.” She purposely low-balled him.

“Fifteen,” he countered.

“Ten.”

“Deal,” he said extending his hand.

She shook it solemnly. “And if you need a night off to do school work or hang out with friends or build creepy robots — whatever it is kids your age do — let me know and I’ll have Grampa watch Rora.”

“Robots? Seriously, Gia?”

Gia held up her hands. “Hey, whatever floats your boat. No judgment.”

“You fit right in with the rest of these weirdos,” he told her.

She jumped out her chair and put him in a headlock and covered the top of his head with noisy kisses. “I’m totally changing your name to Compost Heap Decker,” she told him. He put up a struggle, but his laughter prevented him from wiggling free.

His sandy hair needed a trim, Gia noted. But they had worked out a deal back when he turned ten that he was in charge of haircut decisions.

“Hey, I was going to make an appointment to get my hair trimmed. I saw this crazy place called The Grateful Head. Let me know if you want an appointment. That’s a play on a band, by the way.”

Evan leveled the haughty gaze of a twelve-year-old at her. “I know who the Grateful Dead are.”

Of course Paul Decker’s son would know the Grateful Dead. Paul’s finest gift to his children was a deep and abiding appreciation of music.

“Good, then I don’t have to tell your dad that your brains are being consumed by pop artists and you want a life-sized One Direction poster for Christmas.”

Evan had the good sense to shudder. “Dad would disown me.”

“I’m going to grab a shower and warm up some mac and cheese,” Gia said, rising. “You want any?”

“I guess I could go for some.”

“Awesome.” She started for the stairs. “Heavy carb date in ten minutes and you can show me how to use the calendar app on my phone.”

“Again?”

“It’s not ‘again’ if it’s a brand new app. I didn’t like the other one. This one has cool colors and alarms that sound like the ocean.”

“I’m changing your name to Too Many Calendar Apps Decker,” Evan called after her.

Once in the bathroom, Gia turned on the shower and reached for her phone. She dialed, took a deep, cleansing breath, and brought her phone to her ear.

“Hey, Cinnamon Girl.” The sound of her ex-husband’s voice simultaneously brought a smile to her lips and irked the hell out of her. It was the story of their relationship, being repeatedly charmed and disappointed by a man who refused to grow up.

“Hey, Paul. Did you forget something today?”

“Oh, man! Is it Friday again, already? I was so amped about this new gig I totally forgot.”

“A new gig?” she asked, immediately regretting it.

“I’m filling in with this band at the casino for the next few weeks. Their drummer’s having some legal troubles.”

“Legal troubles?”

“House arrest for possession,” Paul amended. “His loss, my gain. Can you put the kids on? I’ll say hi now.”

“Aurora’s been in bed for half an hour,” she reminded him.

“Right, right. How about Ev?”

“Listen Paul, I don’t want to just hand him the phone and tell him it’s you. He needs to know that you care enough to remember to keep your word when it comes to him.”

“Uh-huh. Uh-huh.”

She was losing him. She could feel it. He was getting sucked into whatever video game or YouTube video he would obsess over until something shinier caught his attention.

“I need you to hang up with me and call Evan on his phone. And don’t tell him I called you first.” She said it slowly and carefully, as if instructing a toddler.

“Gotcha.”

“And make it a video chat this time. It’s been a while since he’s seen you.”

“Sure. No problemo.”

She could envision him nodding into the phone.

“Okay. I’m hanging up now and you’re going to call Evan on his phone.”

“I got it, G. Consider it done. Oh, listen. The support payment is going to be a little light this month, okay? Things are going down at work.”

Gia closed her eyes and took another deep breath. If his child support payments dried up again she was going to have to look for a second job. Again.

“I can hear you doing your ‘don’t freak out breathing’ thing,’” he teased her.

“We’ll talk about the support some other time, okay? Call your son.”

“I’m on it. Good talking to you.”

“Bye, Paul.”

Gia waited until she heard Evan’s phone ring downstairs before pulling off her clothes and stepping under the steaming water.

A
long run
early Saturday morning made Beckett reluctantly aware of how loose and energetic his body felt. He refused to attribute it to the yoga he’d endured the night before or the beautiful sadist who guided him through it. It was most likely the aftereffect of a nice, sunny vacation, he decided.

After a strong cup of coffee and his usual protein shake, Beckett decided to spend the rest of the morning catching up on work. But try as he did to focus on asset allocations for the Petrovic family and Pete McDougall’s permit request for a custard truck, he found his thoughts returning to Gianna.

He was attracted to her. There was no doubt about that. He wasn’t blind. Physically she was stunning. She was little, petite. But what she lacked in height, she made up for in sinful curves. And that face. A sprinkling of freckles on flawless ivory and green-gray eyes that always seemed to be laughing at some unspoken joke. Her wide smile warmed rooms while accentuating the sweet dimple in her chin.

He found her intriguing.

She was nothing like his usual type. The women he dated were refined, restrained even. Focused on their careers, they had an appreciation of life’s little luxuries. They wore tailored suits and spoke fondly of Italian vacations and the literary works of Marcel Proust and Joan Didion.

Gianna did not fit neatly into that category.

Not with her body-hugging spandex, wild curls, and the energy that sparked out of her. He bet she curled up at night with trashy novels and didn’t even own a suit.

Yet the attraction for him had been instantaneous. There was power in that compact, curvy body. And that was as captivating as her physical beauty. She was strong and vibrant, making the memories of the women he’d always dated take on muted pastel shades.

She had kids. Kids meant complications, kids meant serious, neither of which Beckett was interested in. His best course of action was to avoid his new tenant as much as possible.

Beckett scrubbed his hands over his face. He needed to get out. Get a little distance from the wicked temptation in his backyard. While putting together his lunch he’d actually stood at his kitchen window for ten minutes, hoping for a glimpse of her red hair.

He scrawled his signature across a document, hit send on an email, and dropped a stack of papers on Ellery’s desk.

He’d pay his brothers a visit and check on the construction at the brewery. That would keep his thoughts from Gianna.

* * *

B
eckett found
his brother’s girlfriend, Summer, putting groceries away in the sunny kitchen of the farmhouse. “Hey there, gorgeous,” he said, greeting the stylish blonde with a kiss on the top of the head.

“Beckett!” Her wide blue eyes lit up and she pulled him down for a hug. “How was the Dominican?”

“Beautiful, sunny. Paradise.”

“Ugh,” Summer groaned, shaking her ponytail. “I’m so jealous. Between the move, the magazine launch in January, and the brewery construction, we won’t be able to leave the county let alone the country for years.”

“You love it and you know it,” Beckett challenged her.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she sniffed, feigning innocence.

It was true; he only had to look at her to see the happiness radiating off of her. Summer had come to Pierce Acres as a stressed out, overworked magazine editor to interview his brother Carter for a piece on organic farming. What had started off as a battle of the wills had turned into a flaming hot affair and, finally, a happy relationship.

Summer had quit her job, moved to Blue Moon, and was launching her own online magazine in the new year. She was the happiest person he knew, except for maybe Carter.

“So, tell me you’ll stay for dinner tonight,” she said, turning back to the open refrigerator.

“That depends. Are you cooking?” Summer wasn’t known for her culinary skills.

She shot him a look around the door. “Don’t be ridiculous. Franklin and your mom are cooking lasagna.”

“Mom and Franklin?”

Summer nodded. “Jax, too, and I’m texting Joey to invite her.”

“I’ll pass. I’ve got things to catch up on,” Beckett said, toying with the bowl of fruit perched on the granite island. “All those messages from modeling agencies wanting my body.”

Summer winced. “Haven’t they slowed down yet?”

The side door sprang open and his older, bearded brother walked in. “Hello, pretty girl,” Carter said, laying a sizzling kiss on Summer’s upturned mouth.

“I’m surprised you can kiss her through all that fur on your face,” Beckett quipped.

“Your brother was just telling me that he can’t join us for dinner tonight because he has ‘things to catch up on.’”

Carter plucked an apple out of the bowl and turned his attention to Beckett. “I call bullshit.”

“It’s a legitimate and reasonable excuse,” Beckett argued.

Carter stroked a hand over his beard. “Nope. Bullshit.”

“Beckett, I hate to do this, but I agree with Carter,” Summer said, leaning her elbows on the counter. “I think you should talk to us about it.”

“Talk to you about what? I have things to do. I was out of the country for ten days.”

“You also have an intense dislike of Franklin,” Summer pointed out.

“What is it about him that gets to you?” Carter asked, ranging himself behind Summer to rub her shoulders.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Beckett said crisply. “Being a responsible, productive member of society, I’ve got shit to do tonight.”

“What shit do you have to do?” His younger brother Jax, entered through the side door. Like Carter, he was wearing jeans and a t-shirt that had seen better days and like all of the Pierce men he had dark hair and steel gray eyes.

Carter’s cavernous kitchen was starting to feel crowded to Beckett.

“I came over to check out the progress on the brewery. Can I at least do that without an interrogation?” he snapped.

He saw a long look pass between Carter and Summer.

“Forget it.” He shoved through the door and stormed off the porch.

He heard the door open and close behind him. “Wait up,” Jax called after him.

His brother jogged to his side. “Don’t mind them. They’re just disgustingly happy and feel compelled to make everyone else join their cult.”

Beckett shrugged it off. “I shouldn’t have snapped. I just have some things on my mind.”

Jax clammed up as they caught a glimpse of Joey Greer’s vintage pick-up as it drove past the lane. “Yeah. Me, too,” he muttered.

The door to the kitchen opened and closed again. Carter caught up to them, hands shoved in his pockets and Summer’s lipstick smeared on his mouth.

Beckett decided not to mention it. It’s what brothers did.

“Calvin’s crew is moving pretty fast,” Carter said, ignoring the minor blow up in the kitchen as he led them around the little barn. The path served as a shortcut to the big, stone barn that would soon house John Pierce Brews.

It sat by itself, on a rise surrounded by fields and pastures. A handful of pick-up trucks and construction vans were parked on one side.

Beckett stepped through the opening that would eventually be accordion glass doors to the stone terrace.

The massive main floor was looking significantly brighter thanks to the new windows that the builder added at strategic points. The thick walls, which would eventually be painted white, created deep windowsills. The wide-plank floors would be sanded down and refinished once the massive L-shaped bar was complete.

The rickety ladder to the top floor was in the process of being replaced by a rustic staircase made from reclaimed barn wood. The railing they chose was a modern cable system.

Tucked under the loft near the end of the bar was a shaft for a small elevator. On the other end of the wall were the skeletons of two restrooms. Beckett waved to Calvin and his foreman, Joe.

“Looking real good, guys,” he called out.

“Wait’ll you see the brewery,” Calvin said, pulling his Jets cap off his head to swipe at the sweat. “Really like that lipstick you’re wearing there, Carter.”

Carter dragged a hand over his mouth and swore. “You guys suck,” he said to Beckett and Jax. And Beckett instantly felt a little lighter.

Carter led the way downstairs to the first floor. One third of the space would be used for the commercial kitchen, but the rest would be the heart and soul of the brewing operations.

Thick beams and stone walls reminded all who entered of the building’s hundred-year-old past.

“I ordered the fermentation tanks last week,” Jax told them, wandering around the space. “Carter and I were talking about the keg room placement. We thought having it over here would make sense. The lines could go straight up to the tap system above.”

“Plus it’s a straight shot to the doors for deliveries and supplies,” Carter added.

Beckett shoved his hands in his pockets. He could finally start to envision it all.

“It’s going to be a hell of an operation,” he nodded. “We’re going to need an onsite office, aren’t we?”

Carter, arms crossed, leaned against a pallet of two by fours. “Jax had a thought on that.”

Beckett turned his attention to his younger brother.

“The silo,” Jax said.

The stone silo stood next to the barn, stretching toward the sky. Once a holding bin for grain, it had been empty for decades.

Beckett frowned thoughtfully. “How big is it?”

“Big. Twenty feet across.”

He thought about it, rolling the idea around in his head. “We could have an office off of the upper floor, some storage, maybe even move the bottling stuff out there.”

“Told you he’d be into it,” Jax smirked at Carter.

“It’s a good idea. Might as well make use of the space. What would it add to the timeline?” They were planning to open in the spring as it was now.

“The storage and bottling works wouldn’t be a big deal. It might take a little more time to get the office space together, especially if we want any kind of plumbing over there,” Jax told him.

Beckett nodded. “Let’s do it. We can always finish off the office after we’re open for business.”

“Sounds good,” Jax agreed.

“Now, the big question,” Carter said. “How much longer before we can start brewing?”

“Once the tanks are in place we can get everything else set up in a week or two tops,” Jax said, scrolling through the calendar on his phone. “We can pretty much start fighting over who gets to do the first batch.”

“Me.”

“Me.” Beckett and Carter frowned at each other.

“We’re going to have to settle this like men,” Beckett said.

“A duel at dawn?” Jax asked.

“We’ll come up with something,” Carter decided. “So while we’re on the subject of change,” Carter began. He pulled a black jewelers box from his pocket. “There’s hopefully going to be another one around here sometime.”

He snapped open the lid and Beckett pretended to shield his eyes from the sparkle inside. “Damn. Already? Didn’t you just meet like four months ago?”

Carter grinned. “Don’t even pretend like she’s not the one. I just have to convince
her
that it’s not too early.”

“Summer’s hell-bent on ‘taking things slow’ since everything happened so fast,” Jax explained to Beckett. “Meeting Carter, quitting her job, and moving in is freaking out the control freak.”

“Hey, that’s my control freak you’re talking about,” Carter warned him.

“I meant it in the most adorable, complimentary way possible,” Jax said, holding up his hands.

“Do you really think there’s a possibility that she’ll say no?” Beckett asked.

“I think she’s more likely to say ‘ask me again in a year.’”

“So how are you going to do it?” Beckett asked, baffled.

“I’m going to make it seem like her idea and wait until the perfect time to strike,” Carter said with a firm nod.

“I can’t wait to see how this ninja engagement plays out,” Jax said.

Carter couldn’t wipe the grin off his face as he looked down at the ring again. “Do you think it’s big enough?”

“No Pierce man has ever uttered those words before,” Beckett told him, clapping a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “It might be a little too big.”