From the Moment We Met (23 page)

“Ten years it took me to get this house the way my husband wanted it, then less than a month later the son of a bitch up and died. Left me broke, with two kids to raise and this house to run.”

When Nora turned to stand by Abby’s side, she wasn’t surprised to see a little moisture in the woman’s eyes as she looked up at the three-story butter-yellow Victorian with lavender trim and a gleaming white door.

“So I ran it and I ran it well, and this house is my life’s work. It’s the one thing I can point to and say, ‘That right there is sixty-one years of stubborn passion and love.’ And next week, the Memory Lane Manor Walk will begin and thousands of people will come into my home and see what I built with these two hands. I may not have built a plane or a fancy villa in Italy, but I made this house into a home.”

Something about the tone Nora’s voice took on resonated with Abby. It was pride. Pride so deep it was difficult to talk about.

“Is it so bad I want it to look perfect?”

“No,” Abby said quietly. “It’s not.” Then she cleared her throat and turned to face Nora. “Richard’s grandmother arrives Friday. I promise you I will move the statue before Saturday’s Memory Lane Manor Walk starts.”

“Thank you.” Nora gave Abby an awkward pat on the shoulder. “I’m not rescinding my complaint with the sheriff, though. In fact, I hope he fines you, because then I can issue a GN fine as well. My eyes bleed every time I see him. It’s like he’s peeing on our beautiful street, marking his claim. And rules are rules, so if I make exceptions for you, people will start talking and the whole neighborhood will go to hell.”

“Understood.”

“Good, because I wanted to give you this, and I don’t want any confusion about it being a bribe.” Nora pulled an envelope out of her gardening apron. “This is because I’m a bigger person than you.”

Not wanting to ruin this beautiful bonding moment with her neighbor, Abby opened the envelope. Inside was a newspaper clipping with the marriage announcement for Randal Jackson Jr. and Susette. Attached to it was an old, faded photo of them, standing in front of the carriage house—which was absolutely a residence. It had a little front porch and flower boxes filling the windows, and it was the evidence she needed to fix everything.

“I don’t understand. Why would you sink me with the council then give me everything I need to prove your accusations wrong?”

“I’m giving you those because I know what it’s like to lose everything and have to start over, and you’ve been working so hard on that cheese shop, I thought you had the right to know I didn’t sink you.”

“But the paper quoted you,” Abby countered. “It was right there in black and white.”

“I was merely repeating facts given to me from an extremely credible source.”

“Credible?” Abby laughed and held up the envelope that was in direct conflict to that statement. “This says differently.”

“I didn’t discover the photos and article until after the interview. I went digging through the HPC archives when I began to wonder why the one person who had the most to lose would . . .” Nora dusted off her gardening gloves and stuck them in her apron before picking up a stuffed teddy bear someone had placed next to the statue. She plucked distractedly at the fur around its ear, and when she looked back up, her face of wrinkles was pursed with empathy. “Babs was my source. She told me that the carriage house being a residence was all hearsay.”

“So you want to explain to me why you lied to Nora?” Tanner said to Babs the second he took a seat at his kitchen table, working hard to keep his anger in check.

“Oh dear,” Babs said, her voice raw as she gripped the
NINERS CAN SUCK IT
coffee cup tighter. “I never meant for it to go this far. I never meant for anyone to get hurt.”

“An hour ago I would have believed you,” Tanner said, sitting back in his chair, because an hour ago he would have sworn his day couldn’t get any shittier.

Not only was Colin still not talking to him, but Wreck had taken a dump in his work boots, then his dad had said Babs was in the kitchen and wanted to talk. Not to mention he hadn’t seen Abby since Friday when she left to fix a problem that, turns out, wasn’t her fault.

Not that it mattered anymore since Ferris called, which hadn’t accomplished much more than cementing the fact Colin would never speak to him again. And,
ah, shit
, now Babs was crying. And Gus was glaring.

“She’s trying to make this right, son,” Gus said, resting his hand on Babs’s frail one.

“I get that, and I appreciate that. But bottom line, people got hurt.” He looked from Gus to Babs and, tears or not, he wasn’t letting up. “This town thinks Tanner Construction participated in submitting falsified paperwork to a county-run board, Ferris is no longer considering Oakwood as a viable option, which means my partner is most likely going to quit, and Abby—”

God, Abby.
His heart broke just thinking how she was going to take the news. “The most amazing woman I’ve ever known is going to face the same kind of ridicule she did when her husband walked out, and all because she was trying to make your shop amazing. So please, tell me where you saw this going.”

Babs blanched, her tired and red-rimmed eyes going wide on her face. “I have messed everything up, haven’t I?” She shook her head a little, and even her apricot halo seemed older, sadder. “I only meant to stall, to buy more time, so I told Nora that I didn’t know if the documents existed, but Ferris might know and she should call him.”

“Babs wanted to give Ferris a reason to come home,” Gus interjected gently.

“That house is just so big, and at night when I sit down to dinner and I see all the empty seats . . .” she faded off and stirred her coffee for the fifth time in so many minutes.

“Ferris is a busy man. He would have made his father proud,” Gus said, and Tanner wanted to ask him how a son did that, because obviously this prick who didn’t visit his mom and wore loafers was doing something Tanner wasn’t.

“I didn’t want to call him and waste his time with nonsense,” Babs said.

“Of course you didn’t,” Gus said in understanding, and Babs nodded. Suddenly, Tanner felt like the third wheel in his own kitchen.

“So I . . . I made reasons to call him. Found questions to ask him, and hoped if he heard enough little questions, easy things he could help me with, he’d come home and we could work on this together.”

And then she wouldn’t have to ask
, Tanner thought sadly.

“I didn’t want to be a burden,” Babs whispered, and her tone just about did Tanner in.

He had been floored when Ferris called, saying he was going in a different direction—one that didn’t involve two hundred acres in the hills above St. Helena. But when Babs had shown up, admitting to being Nora’s big source, Tanner had lost it. He’d been so angry he’d had to take a walk to calm down, which only gave him time to think about how Colin was going to take the news—how Abby was going react—which only made him angrier.

Only now, listening to Babs talk about her screw-up of a son and watching her try not to cry, Tanner softened a little.

“But the little things weren’t working,” she went on. “He’d just send me e-mails with the answers, then when it became just the name of a contractor to call, I got desperate and did a lot of things I’m not proud of,” she admitted. “But Ferris is just like his dad—impatient and hates waste. So I knew if the project went on long enough he would come back and take it over. Then Abby came on board with her sunny we-can attitude and got you, and then things started happening. Ferris stopped returning my calls and e-mails altogether. So I lied to Nora and she took it to the council.”

“Ah, shit,” Tanner said, gripping the back of his neck.

“Watch your Ps and Qs,” Gus scolded, and Tanner resisted pointing out there wasn’t a single P or Q in his statement, just like he didn’t bother with the fact Gus swore like a sailor. Most of Tanner’s four-letter vocabulary came straight from swinging hammers with his old man as a kid. His old man who—hold up? Did he just put his arm around Babs Hampton?

He did and Tanner couldn’t believe it. His dad was actually courting their client. It was obvious from the way the two were acting that they were more than familiar. Just how familiar, Tanner had no desire to find out.

He did, however, shoot Gus a look, which Gus ignored because he was too busy whispering to Babs. Man, this project was turning out to be some awful nightmare that kept getting worse and worse.

Tanner cleared his throat. “Babs, do you realize lying to a county-regulated board not only made us all look bad, but also jeopardizes any future project that has Tanner Construction, Abby Designs, or Hampton Group on the paperwork? They could be up for additional scrutiny.”

“I know,” she said and the first tear fell, and didn’t that make him feel like a class-A jerk. “I just don’t know what to do anymore.”

“Well, first you and I are going to the HPC and explaining everything.”

“Everything?” Babs went completely pale, and Tanner felt for her. Standing in front of her peers and neighbors and explaining she lied because she was lonely was going to be hard—and awful. But not as awful as it would be if the project sank like the
Titanic
.

“It’s the only way to get the bottlery reinstated as a finalist and have the newspaper retract their article,” Gus said, then gave her hand a little squeeze. “And if you want, I will stand right by your side.”

“Ferris is going to be so upset, and the last thing I want to be is a burden,” she said to Gus, and Tanner was sensing a pattern. A pattern that hit him in the stomach like a fist when his dad said, “I know, honey. I know.”

Because, holy shit! Is that what his dad felt like? A burden?

Sure, they’d had some growing pains being new roommates, and Tanner joked daily about burning his dad’s chair and finding a new home for Wreck, but he’d never really do it. He kind of liked the chair. It reminded Tanner of being a kid sitting in his dad’s lap while they watched the game. And Wreck wasn’t so bad when he wasn’t inhaling Tanner’s underwear and messing in the house. Hell, Tanner was even starting to like eating on the couch.

And okay yeah, he was a little preachy about diet and physical therapy, but only because he wanted his dad to get better—

So he could move out
, Tanner thought.

Jesus, he was as bad as Ferris. So what if his dad drove him nuts and gave him shit for his life choices? That’s what dads did. They wanted their kids to grow up and make something of themselves and—Tanner looked at Gus, looked at his hunched shoulders and work-roughened hands, and how old he seemed, and felt his throat tighten.

His dad had swung hammers nearly every day for the past fifty years. And he was tired and lonely—and he wanted more for his son.

He pushed because he cared.

“My dad is right,” Tanner said past the shame in his chest. “The best thing to do is get reinstated as a finalist so we don’t lose any time off the schedule. We’re still on course to get the shop ready in time for the Memory Lane Manor Walk inspection.”

Babs looked shocked, then her face crumbled. “You’re still going to help me?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Why?”

Because today I’m not going to let down another person in my life. Because for all the times it got hard and I should have been there for Abby, this is the time I’m going to follow through.

“Because that’s the job you hired me to do. And because my father raised me to push through to the very end.” He looked at Gus and smiled. “He didn’t raise me to be the idiot I’ve been lately, but he did raise me to be a man of my word. Plus, I think we can win.”

CHAPTER 16

A
bby pulled the plastic covering off the barstool and ran her finger along the new leather.

It was perfect. The distressed dark wood of the legs and seat back were the perfect contrast to the rich, buttery seat cushion. They were elegant enough to catch the eye, make a statement, but comfortable enough to order a bottle of wine and a cheese platter and stay awhile. And they looked amazing next to the new steel countertops.

But even that didn’t lighten her mood.

Abby took the envelope Nora had given her and poured the contents out on the counter and tried to figure out why Babs would lie. The only reason she could think of was to set Abby up.

A deep sense of sadness washed over her at the thought. It had taken two hours to come up with a plan and three seconds to realize she was stuck. If she went to the board with her proof, everyone would know Babs had lied. If she didn’t, Abby would forever be Richard’s dishonest wife. And until she had answers to why Babs had lied, Abby didn’t feel comfortable ratting her out.

No one had bothered to ask Abby her side, and she’d had a good reason for waiting to report the missing money. She hadn’t known it was missing. She was so busy trying to figure out what she’d done wrong in her marriage, the last thing she’d thought to do was check their bank account.

“Is this seat taken?”

Abby didn’t have to turn around to see who was behind her. Her body was giving her clear signals of who that sexy voice belonged to.

“I only got one out,” she said, looking at the mile-long bar, which was obviously lacking barstools. “The rest are still in the back room covered in shipping plastic.”

“I don’t mind sharing,” he said and, before she could protest, slid his arms under to effortlessly pick her up and, after stealing her seat, plop her down on his lap.

Her legs dangled off to the side, and he wrapped his arms around her until she rested her cheek against his chest. He was so big, his body practically swallowed hers whole.

She smoothed down the skirt of her dress and he smiled. “Pretty.”

He looked damn good too. Not pretty. Tanner could never look pretty. He was rugged, wearing a day’s worth of stubble, and smelled too much like sawdust and sex to ever be considered pretty. Not that she had any complaints. Not a one. She didn’t want pretty in a man. She wanted Tanner—big, scruffy, and incredibly sweet.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Looking for you.”

Abby had come here to be alone, to think. Now that she was here, she realized she was tired of being alone. She’d spent the past seven years alone and it felt really great to be a part of a “we” again.

“Babs was Nora’s source,” Abby admitted softly. “She lied to the council to—well, I don’t know why, but I have proof the carriage house was a residence and that she,” Abby swallowed, “lied.”

Tanner searched her face and his concern was so genuine she busied herself with the contents of the envelope so she wouldn’t cry.

“I see.” His arms came around her as he moved the photo and news clippings to read them. “And yet you have the proof and not the council?”

She nodded and released a breath. Sinking back against his chest, she stared at the new countertops and decided Tanner had a really comfy chest—reassuring and warm. Just what she needed tonight.

“I wanted to talk to Babs before I did that. Ask her why she did it. Get her side of things first before I go pointing fingers.” She tilted her head up. He was looking right at her. “Only, I don’t know if I can face her yet without yelling or crying.”

She would also rather leave the state than start a confrontation with someone who sounded like Mrs. Claus. But she would have to, and soon. Abby had to know why Babs had set her up to fail. She had to set things right for Tanner.

“How did it go with Ferris?” she asked. “Did you smooth things over?”

Tanner didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to. The frustration and disappointment was right there in his eyes. “Tanner. I am so sorry. How bad is it?”

“He’s going with the Santa Barbara property.”

“What?” She sat up. “Oh my God.”

She didn’t know what she expected him to say. Maybe that Ferris needed more time or he was going to micromanage the project, but not that Tanner had lost out. Totally and completely. And all because of her.

“Is there a way to change his mind? I mean, if it would help, I could call him, explain I messed up but now we have the information we need.”

Tanner shook his head. “He signed on the other property this morning. It’s a done deal. We’re out of the running.”

She cupped his face. “Sorry doesn’t even begin to convey how badly I feel. But I am so sorry, Jack.” He turned his head and kissed the inside of her wrist. “How did Colin take it?”

His whole frame fell a little. “Not good. He lost it, and like Colin does, got all dramatic. It didn’t end with beer and watching ball. Not that I blame him. He worked his ass off for this project for over a year. It should have been a slam dunk.”

Tanner froze as though surprised at what he’d said.

“Jesus.” He choked out a bitter laugh, pressing his hand to his forehead. “Did you hear that? It should have been a slam dunk because Colin worked his ass off.”

“You’ve worked hard on that property too.”

One of his gorgeous but troubled blue eyes speared her through the slits of his fingers. “Unless you call dropping a wad of cash on the table and signing on the dotted line work, then nope, this whole project was Colin.”

“A project that would have never happened if you didn’t buy the land.” When he didn’t move, except to snort, she removed his hand, placed a kiss in the middle of it, then wrapped it around her. “All right, then what work would you have done?”

“Abby,” he said on a tired breath.

“Humor me.”

Tanner gave her a long-winded sigh but played along, making it clear it was solely for her benefit. “For starters, I could have at least shown up to more of the meetings with Ferris. Shown him how dedicated I was to the project. Taken a bigger interest in what he had planned for . . . what? Why are you giving me that look?”

“Because I don’t care what Ferris wants,” she explained. “I meant, what would you have done with the land? If there was no Ferris, what would you have done?”

He blinked as though no one had ever asked him that question. Actually, he looked so lost she wondered if he’d ever asked himself. And suddenly, Abby was starting to understand part of Tanner’s problem.

“You said you’d put your house on the eighteenth hole, which I think is a perfect idea.” She leaned up and snagged a little kiss when he smiled at her compliment. “So where would you put the eighteenth hole?”

“At the highest point on the bluff. I talked to one of my golf buddies about it a few years back.” When he mentioned the golf buddy in question, it was a three-time Master’s champion. “He said it would add a level of difficulty to the course that locals would have to go all the way to Pebble Beach to match. Plus, a little flag in the hole would flow with the land a hell of a lot better than some big Tuscan-style clubhouse.”

She blinked up at him. “I thought you liked Tuscan style. Isn’t that why you chose it for your house?”

“No,” he said as though she’d asked him to hand over his man card. “When people move to the Napa Valley, they want Tuscan, so I chose Tuscan.”

Abby tried really hard to hide her smile, but it was impossible since his answer made her beyond happy. “Tuscan bad, got it. Then what style would you choose? I mean if y
ou were building a house for yourself and not taking into account resale value.”

“I don’t know. Craftsman, maybe.” His fingers played absently with her hair, slid through the strands and down her spine, only to start over when they reached the small of her back. “I like indoor-outdoor living that works with the land, blends. Which is why I always thought it was crazy that Ferris wanted to drop three hundred homes on that land. That land is the highlight, not some cookie-cutter McMansion.”

“I agree,” she said, loving how excited he was getting. Tanner had thought a lot about this property. He knew exactly what he wanted it to look like, feel like. “When I saw the land, I pictured more of a Pebble Beach feel, with fewer homes on larger plots, meshing with the course and environment.”

He looked down at her, and the smile he gave warmed her entire body.

“Have you ever considered Tanner Construction heading up the entire project?” she ventured cautiously. “No Ferris, no outside boss, just you and Colin developing the course the way you imagined.”

He chuckled as though he thought she was cute. “I have money, darling, but not that kind of money.”

“Then take out a loan,
darling
,” she said, and his smile faded. “If you cut down the homes to fifty high-end ones, you’re talking what, two hundred million, give or take?”

“Give or take,” he said, but he was sitting straighter, no longer amused by her cuteness.

“Go out and talk to a few private equity people. I guarantee they will want in. Plus, with the kind of people you know, all it would take is a few of your football buddies or that golf friend you just mentioned to buy a parcel for you to build out, and before you know it you will have sold the houses even before they’re built.”

“Do you have any idea how many moving parts there are to this kind of project?” he asked, but she could tell he was thinking about it. He was thinking hard and he was getting excited. Not to mention a little scared, which made her want to hug him. “I have no idea how to even go about running a project like this.”

She had no doubt it would be hard, but she also had no doubt Tanner could pull it off.

“Then do your research and find the best people for the jobs you aren’t sure about. Ferris doesn’t run the entire project. He hires people to do what he can’t.”

Tanner sat back and looked her dead in the eye. “You really think I can do this?”

“I have no doubt. As far as I’m concerned, there isn’t much you can’t do,” she whispered, running her hands over his shoulders and down his chest. “I look around this shop and take in everything you’ve done, all the hard work, and God, Jack, just look at the beautiful brick walls and the counters. I don’t know what to say . . . I am blown away and so in love with . . .”
You.
“It. I am so in love with it.”

Abby’s chest burned and her stomach clinched because she had almost ended that sentence with
you
. She wanted to end that sentence with
you
.

She looked into his eyes, saw a hint of vulnerability, as though her belief in him meant the world, and Abby felt everything inside of her shift. Reaching out toward him, desperate to be a part of him, to show him what an amazing and capable man he was, she knew she was in serious trouble. This wasn’t some silly attraction or hormones talking. Her heart was involved and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

Tanner had obliterated her heart, world, soul—take your pick. He’d broken her so badly she’d married a man she didn’t love to stop the ache.

But the serious and vulnerable man who sat in front of her now was nowhere near the same cocky, see-where-it-falls guy he’d been back in school. Just like she wasn’t the same desperate and lost girl.

None of that meant, though, that he was ready to give her what her heart needed. So she took a mental step back, shifting gears to something she could handle. Funny, charming Tanner didn’t make her want to hand over her soul. Funny, charming Tanner they both knew how to deal with.

“I am so in love with it that I have been seriously considering promoting you from sidekick to bona fide superhero.”

“Superhero, huh?” He ran a hand over his jaw, erasing every ounce of vulnerability and replacing it with swagger. Panty-melting swagger. “I don’t know how I feel about wearing leggings. They make my butt look big.”

Speaking of butts, that was where his hand was firmly planted. The other was on her thigh, moving right up and under her dress.

“Just your butt, huh?” Abby asked.

He never answered her question. He was too busy kissing her silly, too busy moving his hand higher and higher until she felt a tug on the zipper of her dress, then it was smooth sailing—exposing the entirety of her back.

“You know what I love about these counters?” he asked, taking her mouth in another searing kiss. When they came up for air, her dress was like a Hula-Hoop around her waist, his jeans were pressed against her inner thighs, including all the space in between, and the cool steel of the countertop was under her butt. “How sturdy they are.”

Abby bounced, giving a little test of her own, and Tanner’s hand went right to her chest. His smile said her decision to go braless received a solid two thumbs up.

“I can’t wear a bra with this dress,” she explained with a smile. “The straps show.”

“Remind me to write to the designer personally and thank them from the bottom of my heart. Then order you one in every color they make.”

She gave the counters a mischievous little pat. “Now, about this sturdiness you claim. Am I going to get the full demonstration?”

“Darling, you’re going to get all the bells and whistles.”

“How about we start with a kiss?” she said, running her hands through his hair. She loved his hair. Thick and soft and a little too long to be considered a style.

“Thought you’d never ask.” His voice had a low rasp that ignited a hum of anticipation under her skin, because he wasn’t looking at her mouth. Nope, Tanner was looking at the barely-there red thong he’d exposed by yanking her dress up and over and buh-bye.

Abby watched breathlessly as he lowered his head to brush his mouth along the inside of her thigh, sliding ever so slowly up to the lower edge of her panties, where he gave a sexy tug with his teeth that had her shaking with want.

But he didn’t give in to her want. Tanner, the ultimate tease, made her wait, skipping right over the best part in the middle, to kiss down her other leg. And, because Tanner was never one to be rushed, he pulled up the barstool, settling in for the long haul on the return.