With the kids packed off to birthday parties and Beckett and Jax systematically ripping apart her kitchen cabinets, Gia led Phoebe into the battlefield that was her bedroom.

“I know it looks bad, but it’s actually probably worse than it seems,” Gia confessed.

“That’s very comforting,” Phoebe said, taking stock.

“You really don’t have to do this,” Gia reminded her. I think with three free hours I can make some headway on my own. I’m sure you have better things to do than go through mislabeled boxes and piles of things that should have been thrown out or recycled years ago.”

Phoebe smiled. “Not only do I enjoy digging into projects like this, it’ll give me the chance to spend a little time with my handsome boyfriend’s daughter. And —” she glanced over her shoulder at the kitchen. “The woman who makes my son’s face light up.”

Gia blushed. “I don’t know what to say to that. Beckett and I aren’t … pursuing a relationship. We’re not exactly a good match on paper and prefer to keep our relationship professional.”

“I see Facebook and I see the way you two look at each other,” Phoebe said knowingly. “Just because you don’t like the way it looks on paper doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be a worthwhile adventure.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but right now I’ve got a lot on my plate … and my dresser and my bed. A boyfriend is pretty low on my To Do list. And even if it wasn’t, a man who takes over and makes decisions for me wouldn’t make my list.”

Phoebe patted Gia’s arm. “Well, maybe we can take care of a few of those higher priority items and then you can spend some time figuring out what kind of a man does belong on your list.”

* * *

While his mother and Gianna dug into the debris in the bedroom, Beckett measured, cut, and ripped his way through the dishwasher installation.

“You must really like this girl,” Jax puffed as he shoved the dishwasher back so it was flush with the cabinets.

“It’s a kitchen. It needs a dishwasher,” he said mildly.

“Bullshit.” Jax opened a bottle of water and drank deeply. “You like her.”

“Of course, I do,” Beckett said, annoyed. “What’s not to like? She’s the perfect tenant.”

Jax grinned. “I bet you spend a lot of time looking out your kitchen window, don’t you?”

“Shut up, Jax,” Beckett warned his brother.

“What? I’ve got eyes, don’t I? I see the way you look at her. You’re like the big bad wolf just waiting to get the jump on Little Red. Hey!” His brother’s gray eyes lit up. “Have you two picked out your couples Halloween costume yet? Because that would be perfect.”

Beckett shoved Jax. “I liked it better when we were busting on Carter for Summer.”

“Yeah, but picking on him now when he’s all gooey like this is pointless. He doesn’t even know we’re making fun of him. You, on the other hand …”

Beckett wiped down the countertop. “Hold on. Let’s talk about you for a second. If Joey would bother giving you the time of day, you’d be gooier than Carter. You’ve been back since June. Why the hell haven’t you made a move on her?”

“You think I like sitting back, letting her ignore me?” Jax tossed his empty water bottle into the sink with enough force to have it ricocheting back out. “I’m taking Summer’s advice. I’m giving Joey time to get used to me being back.”

“You’re taking love life advice from Summer Lentz?”

Jax shrugged. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Look, I love Summer. But the woman refused to tell anyone she had cancer. Then she falls in love with Carter and what does she do? She runs for the hills.”

“Yeah, but she came back. She’s happy now.”

“Jax, Jax, Jax.” Beckett shook his head. “You already had Joey and then you ran away. Don’t you think it’s time for something besides sitting on your ass waiting for her to fall for you again? Is that how you’d write one of your screenplays?”

Jax frowned. “Don’t take this the wrong way and get a huge, bloated head, but you may have a point.”

“Pierces don’t wait around and hope for the best. We get in the way and we make sure we stay on their mind,” Beckett said, poking his brother in the chest.

A slow grin spread across Jax’s face. “We install dishwashers when they didn’t ask for one.”

Shit. He’d walked into that one.

“Shut up, Jax.”

“You shut up. You set yourself up.”

“Don’t you have a woman to hide from or something?”

* * *

Eyes closed, Gia sighed blissfully and rested her head against the back of the couch. Her house actually smelled clean. And organized, too, if that was possible.

After dinner, she loaded the dishes into the newly installed dishwasher, packed the kids off to bed, and was now enjoying a second glass of wine and some exquisite quiet time.

She spent the afternoon purging and organizing. And when her bedroom was spotless — she’d had to secede some territory in the shed — she’d enjoyed herself in the kitchen making chicken panzanella for her family. She’d invited Beckett and Jax to stay for dinner, but was relieved when they both declined.

She could use some space from Beckett, she decided. Her resolve wavered every time she looked into those deep, searching eyes of his. In fact, her desire to stick to her resolve was practically non-existent by this point. He was a good man. A kind-hearted one who was a protector and a provider by nature. Family was so important to him, and that was part of the attraction.

Gia had fired off an email to her sisters after Franklin and Phoebe left. She liked Phoebe. The woman was smart and sarcastic, full of energy. The way she paid attention to Evan and Aurora made them feel important and interesting. She never once flinched at Aurora’s unending questions or Evan’s pre-teen smirks.

Phoebe was a solid match for Franklin. They seemed comfortable, yet still flirtatious with each other. And it was great seeing her father so happy after so many years. He deserved this. Her sisters were going to get quite the detailed report this weekend. She hoped that Beckett would come around sooner rather than later. It didn’t make sense to fight something that was so obviously good for both his mother and her father.

Gia took another deep breath and relished the fact that she didn’t have to do anything in that particular moment. The house was clean, the dishes were done, groceries were bought, and she had a whole day off tomorrow to spend with the kids.

Life was starting to look pretty perfect.