From the Moment We Met (15 page)

Collar in place, Abby tugged her skirt a tad higher than midthigh and pushed through the doors, not stopping until she reached the welcome desk. Setting the unmistakable pink box of sweets on the counter, she smiled at the welcoming committee of one, who didn’t smile back. “Good morning, Roz.”

Roz Kale was about four thousand years old, friendly as a porcupine, and her bright red lips were pressed into a thin line, making it more than obvious that today Abby took the good right out of her morning.

“Éclair?” Abby offered.

Roz looked down at her elastic-covered waistline and glared. “Do I look like I need an éclair?”

Not going there.
Abby smiled and said, “I’m here to see Eddie Floor. Could you ring him and tell him Abigail DeLuca is here?” When the woman didn’t move, she added, “He’s expecting me.”

Not taking her eyes off Abby, Roz picked up the phone and punched a series of buttons and mumbled something unpleasant into the mouthpiece. Two seconds later she shot Abby an
Are you satisfied?
glare and hung up. “He’ll be out in a minute. You can wait,” she pointed to the chair on the opposite end of the lobby, “over there.”

With a defeated sigh, Abby hazarded to venture. “Let me guess, you invested in Richard’s vineyard?”

“Nope.” There went the condemning lips again.

“You or someone you know slept with Richard?”

“Nope. My granddaughter, Sidney, is supposed to go to a Niners game next week with that nice Jack Tanner. She’s interested in being a sportscaster.” Abby would bet that wasn’t all she was interested in. “Only now I’m hearing on Facebook that you poached him and he’s going to cancel.”

“I haven’t poached him and Jack’s always been the kind of person who does what he wants,” Abby said, surprised at just how badly that statement hurt, and irritated she let it get to her.

The woman finally smiled. “Well then, my Sidney will be happy to hear that. She’s got what they call the X factor, and has the face for television too. Plus, she’s a big football fan, and an even bigger Hard Hammer Tanner fan.”

Join the club
, Abby thought, looking at the picture of the blonde pinup girl with impressive cleavage and porn star lips on Roz’s desk. She doubted there was a single lady in town who wouldn’t let Hard Hammer Tanner put a ring on it. Well, except for Abby.

Although he didn’t want to put a ring on it. Nope, St. Helena’s resident stud muffin wanted to hang out. Hold hands. Be real. Kiss a little. All the things she and Tanner did best together. And all Abby had to do to make it official was stop playing the what-if game and smooch the hometown hero who looked amazing in nothing but a football and day-old stubble.

A small giggle escaped her lips at the thought, then another. And Abby had to bite her lips to keep from laughing. Not that it helped. She looked at her reflection in the city clerk’s window and had to do a double take. She was smiling, big and dreamy. In fact, she was glowing.

Holy cow. Abigail DeLuca, town martyr and woman scorned, was glowing. No ifs about it.

She touched her lips and felt them tingle and couldn’t help but wonder, could it really be so easy? Just say yes, pucker up, and all of the BS that had become her life as of late would disappear?

It would
, her mind said. Although her heart added the, “At least for a little while.” Because their problem had never been connection or getting lost in each other. It had been Tanner’s ability to pick up and move on without her.

But he wasn’t going anywhere. His roots were firmly planted here in St. Helena. And she wasn’t naive enough to think forever was in her future.

But temporary? That she could do.

Sex. She could so do that. At least she hoped she could. It had been a while.

Excitement and something else, something distantly familiar and much more dangerous to her well-being, slid through her body. Because she was going to get Eddie Floor to give them an extension and then she was going to call Tanner and tell him he was hired—for whatever position he felt himself qualified.

Widow or not, Abby was single and needed a little fun in her life. And fun was never as exciting as when it was had with Jack Tanner.

“Actually, Roz, you might want to have Sidney check with Jack before she dusts off her Niners jersey. I think he’s going to be a little busy for the next few weeks. Oh, and . . .” Abby opened the pink box and snagged an éclair, not concerned her collar sagged a little. Around a mouthful of custard she added, “If you could buzz me through, that would be great. It seems Mr. Floor is waving me in.”

Roz didn’t answer. She just hit the buzzer and glowered.

With a murmured thanks, Abby shoved the last bite of éclair in her mouth and, licking her fingers clean, grabbed the box and headed down the hallway.

It was midafternoon by the time Tanner made it to the site of the new DeLuca wine cave. He pulled down the gravel road, around the hundred or so acres of cabernet vines and, ignoring the wiry tail smacking him in the arm every three seconds, parked under the gnarled branches of a massive oak tree.

It had been a hell of a day so far, and the only thing that could have made it better was a call from a woman.

A testy, stubborn, five foot nothing of a woman who’d starred in a few very steamy dreams he’d had last night.

Smiling, Tanner checked his cell for the tenth time that day. Nothing. No text. No missed calls. No message with Abby huffing into his phone about her meeting with Eddie Floor. More irritating still, no message telling him if she’d considered his offer and had come to a decision.

He’d been tempted to give her a call and hurry that decision along, but had to remind himself he’d given her until midnight.

Swearing, Tanner reached for the car door handle and paused to look at his copilot. “I’m going to open that door and you’re going to sit right there until I’m out, and then you’re going to stay by my side. Got it?”

“Woof.”

“Sit,” Tanner clarified.

Wreck sat—right on top of Tanner’s favorite hat. Then put on his best obedient doggie face.

When Tanner opened the door, Wreck made a run for it, leaping over Tanner’s lap, not even touching ground until he was outside the truck. Too bad for the dog, Tanner had already leashed him, which meant his escape lasted about zero point three seconds, then the four feet of lead pulled taut and Wreck indeed sat—with a thud in the dirt.

Tanner stepped out of the car. “I told you to sit. Now we have to do it the hard way. Heel.” He gave a gentle tug on the leash to let Wreck know exactly who was in charge, and headed toward the pack of burly, pissed-off-looking Italians standing by the side of the hill.

One look at Wingman, Marc’s bear of a dog, and Wreck did some tugging of his own, ripping the leash right out of Tanner’s hand, bulldozing through the field and three rows of grapevines, leaving a happy trail in his wake. “Wreck, stop!”

Wreck didn’t stop until he made contact, even bypassing Wingman altoge
ther so he could greet everyone with a wet nose to the crotch. A few sniffs later, he realized there were no ladies in the group and plopped down in the grass with a sigh.

Tanner actually felt for the mutt.

“Hey guys, sorry I’m late,” Tanner said to the group. “I got held up at the planning department.”

The group didn’t seem to care. Maybe they were too busy trying to look tough and intimidating to respond. In fact, the only one who wasn’t sending him an
eat shit and choke on it
glare was little Cooper Reed, who was holding Trey’s hand and smiling like it was the best day of his life.

Tanner understood. Blowing up shit, or even talking about it, was fun. So he had no idea what had crawled up the other guys’ asses.

“Is that your dog? Is he friendly? Can I pet him?” Cooper Reed asked, getting low to the ground, his hand already stroking Wreck’s head.

Cooper took piano from Abby every Tuesday and Thursday before Tanner, so he was used to seeing the kid dressed in a little button-up shirt and dress shoes, but today he was sporting a pair of rugged work boots, carpenter’s pants with a mini hammer hanging off the loop, and a shirt that read
TEAM BROS
.
It matched Trey’s ball cap, which was fitting, since Trey was marrying Cooper’s mom in the fall.

“This is Wrecking Ball, but you can call him Wreck. And he’s my dad’s.” Tanner didn’t have to answer the friendly part, since Wreck was already on his back, legs up in the air, begging for a belly rub. “But today he’s hanging with me since my dad has a doctor’s appointment.”

And because in the two hours it took to get everything handled at the planning department, Wreck had eaten through one of the couch cushions, a pair of socks, and half a roll of toilet paper. The other half was strewn around the downstairs.

“Plus, Trey said you’re building a man cave,” Cooper added. “Which is why me and Wingman got to come. You know, for some quality bro time. Little Bella is just here cuz she fell asleep on her daddy. I got some juice boxes and string cheese in the car for after. Enough to share.”

Wingman barked his bro support. Wreck stood and started giving puppy-dog eyes at the “cheese for all” statement. And the only part of Bella visible from the pastel-striped hammock, which hung around Cooper’s daddy’s neck, was her little hand.

Tanner considered fist-bumping the baby for the hell of it, but he was afraid Marc would fist-bump Tanner right back—in the face. And he didn’t think hugging it out would help any, so he settled for ruffling Cooper’s hair. “That sounds great. How about you go grab the snacks while I talk to the guys about this wine cave?”

“Man cave,” the kid corrected. “And can I bring Wreck?”

Tanner eyed all three and a half feet of Cooper, then Wreck, who was staring at the kid’s boots like they were what was for dinner.

“Sorry, buddy. But Wreck needs to learn how to follow directions.”

Tanner took the leash and tied it to a tree that cast a nice patch of shade.

“Are you putting him in time-out?” Cooper asked, his eyes staring at the dog with sympathy.

“Afraid so.”

Wreck sighed. So did Cooper, who looked as though he was going to sit next to the mutt in protest, but in the end thirst won out and he scampered off to get the juice boxes and cheese sticks.

Tanner turned to the brothers. Who had yet to say even a word. “So the soil reports and geological survey came back approved. All I’m waiting on is to hear back from Colin, who’s meeting with the cave engineer now about the where the interior design specifications stand. As soon as he calls with an update, I’ll file for the permits and then we are good to go, though I wanted to do one last walk-through of the site to make sure you’re all comfortable with where I want to put the mobile office and equipment staging area.”

Tanner Construction had done a small wine cave for the DeLucas’ personal collection last winter, but this cave was different. This one, when finished, was going to be the largest underground wine storage facility in the valley. It was also going to be the largest build and, with room set aside for storage, tasting rooms, and entertainment areas, the most complex underground project Tanner Construction had ever done.

And with the DeLuca family estate just off the other side of the vineyard, Tanner wanted to make sure the brothers understood just how invasive this build was going to be. Especially since ChiChi still lived in the house.

“Are you thinking right over there, behind the small rise, like we originally talked about?” Marc asked, gently swaying even though the bundle inside the hammock was already asleep.

“Yeah.” Tanner started walking toward the pasture Marc had pointed out. “Unless you guys had a better place in mind, because once the permits come in and we get going, the cave will take at least two months to drill and another four to build out. And that’s with no problems and two crews working week-round.”

Nate let out a low whistle, picking up the pace. “That’s a lot of traffic and a lot of equipment. I don’t want it to affect harvest.”

“Which is why Gabe and I picked out this location,” Tanner said as they rounded the curve of the hill. “We’ll put in a new entrance that will let the crews access this part of the property from the road, bypassing the house and most of the vines. The separate entrance and concrete pad we lay now will make a perfect parking lot for tourists when the cave is open. Sure, it will be a tight fit this harvest, but if all goes well, we should be out of your hair when planting season comes around.”

Nate, the expert on all things wine making, gave a short nod. “And what happens if Ferris decides to develop your land? Will the Oakwood project affect our timeline?”

So that’s what was up with all the attitude. “When have I ever come up short on a deal with you guys?”

They exchanged a look, and Tanner felt himself relax a little because the guys were relaxing.

Colin’s words had really messed with his head. Tanner had worked his ass off to be the kind of man Abby deserved, so it would hurt if her brothers didn’t think he was enough. Not that Tanner would walk away from a chance with Abby if it presented itself just because they took issue with him as a man.