Beth's big plan for the day was to sleep late, very late. And do nothing. Absolutely nothing. Dean's parents were taking the kids to Anchor Bay for the weekend and Dean was attending a car dealership conference. Probably screwing a booth model along the way, she's sure.

Beth was going to slow down and re-prioritize. A change of pace, even for just a couple days, was definitely in order. Jane's "disappearance" was a wake-up call. She'd recharge over the weekend and then focus on what mattered most – her kids.

Her plan broke apart early, when she woke up at 5:00 am, restless. Her sleep had been fitful all night, and her attempts to drift back asleep were futile. Every time she did, he darted into her thoughts. Rio.

It was best to stay away, to let it go before she tangled herself up in him again. But getting Jane's dubby back had been so unexpected. A gesture of someone who understood her, not someone who reamed her out about getting her head straight.

It must be her manners that were bothering her, Beth decided. It was only proper etiquette to send an appropriate thank you in return for a favor like that. Just last week, she hand stamped a photo frame for one of the PTA moms who volunteered to drive Emma to her girl scout meetings when Beth couldn't make it. A thank you goes a long way. Maybe that's just what she and Rio needed considering how tense things had been between them ever since making their 50/50 deal.

A few hours later, Beth was at the warehouse. She tried the door and found it unlocked. The ware house was empty minus a few tables, all evidence of money laundering and pill pushing hidden away. She saw him before he noticed her, and watched him for moment. He wore his usual black on black, sorting through some paperwork, a pencil in his hand. It always intrigued her how languidly precise he moved, like a panther. No wasted effort but casual as if no worries in the world.

The click of her heels as she walked toward him got his attention. His eyes narrowed and lip curled upward in a stubborn smile.

"Can you take a break?" Beth stopped in front of the table where he worked. She didn't understand all the numbers and charts she saw, they were as confusing as the man who created them.

"For you? Of course." He sounded like he always did. Smooth and gravelly. He looked at her like he always did. Cool and measured, hot and greedy all in one glance.

"I took a chance you'd be here." Every other weekend Marcus was with his mother, so Rio often worked. The casual intimacy of knowing each other's schedules had become second nature.

"I…just…I wanted…" Beth cleared her throat. Her heart fluttered in her chest, her throat suddenly dry. She hadn't anticipated being so nervous. "I wanted to say thank you. For getting Jane's dubby back. You didn't have to do that. It meant…a lot. To her…and me too. So, I got you something."

"What?"

"As a thank you. It's nothing, just a small something." She held out a small package in her palm, wrapped in simple brown paper. Her usually elaborate bows, stickers and stamps were not his style.

"What is it?"

"Open it," she said with a smile. Beth didn't think it was possible but she had actually surprised him, confusion and disbelief clear on his face.

Rio opened the box carefully. He's a pull-from-the-taped-creases type rather than a rip-it-apart type. He paused at the simple note she placed inside the box. "Thank you, - B." She didn't know how to sign her name. He called her Elizabeth but she didn't go by that, didn't feel right. She went with B, her initial, the initial for what he called her sometimes, a boss bitch. He could interpret it how he wanted.

Rio pulled a long string of small beads out from under the tissue. He wore beads the day he jumped in her car, forcing her hand about Boomer. That felt like a lifetime ago. Out of everything that happened that day, week, month, how she retained a detail like that seemed ridiculous. But as she strolled the Palmer Park Art Fair the blood red strand immediately caught her eye, made her think of him. Masculine and intense. The jeweler bought his beads from his hometown in Egypt, hand strung and polished them himself. The color, he said, meant strength, power, determination, passion. Yes, Beth thought. That was Rio.

Rio closed his fingers around the beads, held them up, rolled them between his fingers as if confirming he wasn't imagining them. After a moment, he gently placed them back in the box and turned to Beth.

"You're welcome." He said it softy, slowly. It looked like he wanted to say something more, but he swallowed whatever it was.

Instead, he stepped closer to her. He smelled earthy, like autumn. In what was now becoming a habit, he skimmed a finger over her cheek, trailed down to her chin, then down to where her pulse was racing. She wanted his mouth there. She was drowning in him, sliding down where the air was thick and her blood hot.

Beth was the first to move, taking a step back before she did something stupid. Like kiss him. Or pull him to her and recreate their moment in the bathroom.

"Well, I know the way out."

Rio nods with a small smile, wicked around the edges. Beth turned and walked away.