From the Moment We Met (27 page)

Babs went on to list every person she’d ever met and every contractor who had ever heard of the project, but Abby wasn’t listening. She was too busy scanning the crowd for the one person she wanted to see. The only person she wanted to share this moment with.

ChiChi and Lexi stood in the front row, wiggling their fingers in a wave. Gus was beaming with pride. She saw her brothers, their wives, her friends, her neighbors, but she couldn’t see Jack.

She squinted harder, convincing herself she’d just missed him somehow in the swell of people, but then Babs was done and people were clapping, and Nora gave Abby a little shove forward and suddenly she was in front of the mic.

“Your turn,” Nora whispered.

The room went silent. The mic buzzed with feedback. And Abby looked out at the three hundred sets of eyes on her and felt a wave of panic wash over her because she couldn’t find the warm, gentle blue ones she loved in the crowd.

“Thank you for coming,” she said, and despite the intense emotions swirling inside of her, she offered up a genuine smile. She’d grown up in this town, had known most of these people her entire life. And they were here to celebrate something she had been an important part of. “First, I need to thank Babette Hampton for falling in love with this beautiful piece of our town’s history, then entrusting its care to me. She gave me a chance when—”

Abby stopped. Because there, in the back, near the bathroom door stood Jack Tanner, and everything she had rehearsed, the hours of practicing what she’d say if she won, died on her tongue. And all she could do was stare and watch him stare right back. And what she saw there had her chest aching.

He looked as nervous and unsure as she felt. Then his lips quirked up in a small smile and she could have sworn he mouthed,
Nice dress
.

“Thank you,” she said, then realized she was still talking to the crowd. “Thank you everyone.”

She stepped back from the mic because even though this moment was important, there was something more important she had to do.

“What are you doing?” Nora asked.

“Knocking down the last wall,” she said over her shoulder as she threaded her way through the crowd.

She passed lots of smiling faces but for the life of her couldn’t remember a one. She was too focused on Tanner, who was making his way toward her. They met in the middle of the room, next to the bar, and both of them spoke simultaneously.

“Congratulations, you deserve it.”

“I couldn’t find you.”

She laughed and he gestured for her to go first.

“I couldn’t have done any of this without you,” she said softly, and now that she was closer she could see what he was wearing, and too-damn-handsome-for-his-own-good was putting it mildly. The man was a god. In his contractor getup, he was delicious. That body wrapped in a sophisticated dark suit was devastating.

“You look stunning.” He swallowed—hard. “Better than stunning. Actually, you take my breath away,” he said, looking her in the eyes. Which was fine with her because the deeper she fell into those baby blues, the more relaxed she became. The more she believed she was doing the right thing.

“You look beyond handsome,” she said, and the tips of his ears went pink.

“Congratulations.” He wiped his hand across his forehead. “I already said that, didn’t I?”

Abby had never seen him so distraught. He was beyond nervous, like he was about to pass out.

“Abby, I know I screwed up, and I want to fix this.”

“Wait.” She placed a hand on his arm, because she didn’t want to talk about last night. Not yet. “Before we talk about that, I need to ask you about something important. But first I need a quarter.”

He didn’t ask, didn’t even blink at the odd request. Just fished through his pocket, mumbled something about never listening to Trey again, and handed her two dimes and a nickel. “Does this work?”

“Perfect.” She took the nickel and then leaned over the bar to grab an empty glass. She took the nickel by its edges, closed one eye, and took the first swing.

Ping.

Clink.

“Why did you invest in Richard’s vineyard?” she asked, because unless she could make sense of why he kept running, she’d never get him to stand still. “You hated him.”

Tanner took a big breath and sat down sideways on the chair so he was facing her. “I didn’t invest in a vineyard, Abby. I hate wine almost as much as I hated Richard.” He shrugged, making no apology. “I invested in you and your dream. I decided if I couldn’t be that guy standing next to you, maybe I could be the one who helped you find your happiness.”

“Oh, Tanner.” Her chest tightened painfully. For the both of them. “If you wanted to be—”

Ping.

Clink.

“My turn. Why did you marry Richard?”

God, what a question, with a humiliating answer. “Because he was supposed to be the sure thing.”

“Bullshit.”

“Because you broke my heart, Jack,” she said with no hesitation, although her breath caught on his name. Just a little tremor of emotion, but enough to have him scooting closer. “You held me like I mattered and we talked about things I had never shared with another soul. And I fell in love with you, only this time it wasn’t some high school girl’s love, it was real. Then you pulled on your pants, kissed my cheek, told me you were going to Buffalo, and left.”

And two months later she had met Richard. He’d been handsome and attentive and everything she’d needed to forget Tanner. Only she never forgot him. And now she was old enough to understand she never would.

“Abs, I didn’t leave
you
. That’s how the draft works.” He moved even closer, their knees fighting to share the same space, craving the contact. “Knowing you were in California and I was going to be moving away killed me.” He looked so earnest. “And I knew you still had a year left of school, so I ran before it got complicated. I ran before you could run.”

She searched his eyes. “I gave up running the second you kissed me on your lounger. I realized then that when I’m with you, I don’t feel lonely or smothered. I just feel . . . like everything is how it should be.” She held out the nickel and pressed it into his hand. “So ask me to come with you.”

She could tell he was surprised by her statement, surprised she wasn’t asking him to give up Santa Barbara. Which she never would, because if that was part of his journey, she wanted him to follow it. All she hoped was that he loved her enough to want to share that part of his life with her, hoped he wanted her to be a real part of his life.

Tanner quietly gazed at her with those eyes that could look right through her as his hand closed around the nickel, and what she saw in his expression made her chest swell. Without looking away, he held the nickel over the tumbler and dropped it straight in with a
clink
that was final, so resolute it was as though the entire room heard it.

“I’ll do you one better.” Tanner reached out and took her hand, studying how perfectly hers fit into his. At least that’s what she was doing. Then he looked her dead in the eye, his expression weary and hopeful and so full of love it made her breath catch. “I’m starting construction on this incredible hunting lodge that has a wraparound porch and a gorgeous view, but without you it will never be a home. Marry me, Abs, so I can finally come home.”

“What about Santa Barbara?” she asked. “I thought that was your dream.”

“You’re my dream,” he whispered, pulling her close. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Jack Tanner,” Abby said, her eyes filling, but she didn’t care. “I love the way you hold me, the way you listen, the way you look at me when you want the last sip of beer but let me have it anyway. Every time you kiss me I fall more and more in love with you.”

With a smile that spoke right to her heart, Tanner kissed her, soft and sweet, and he was right, it tasted like home.

“Every. Time,” he whispered, and when he pulled back, Abby was sitting on his lap, her arms tight around his neck.

“Every time,” she agreed.

“So, is that a yes?”

“Jack, it’s been a yes from the moment we met.”

READ ON FOR A SNEAK PEEK OF MARINA ADAIR’S NEXT HEARTWARMING ROMANCE

NEED YOU FOR KEEPS

Available 2015 on Amazon

S
omeone will come for me,” Shay Michaels said, eyeballing her newest client—who looked as convinced by her statement as Shay felt. Maybe it was that she’d said the exact same thing over an hour ago, or that she’d been saying the same thing her entire life without any success.

But this time Shay had faith someone would come. Call it eternal optimism or romantic rebellion—one of these days karma would stop flipping her the bird and pay it forward.

And that day was today.

Please say that day is today
, she thought, looking down at the client in question.

Domino sat stoically, tail wrapped around his massive feet, gazing up at her with his wet, brown doggie eyes that were so big they could persuade anyone, even the most heartless, to do something colossally stupid. Like crawl into a dog kennel that locked from the outside.

To be fair, when Shay was tired she made questionable decisions. And today she was exhausted.

As the resident saint at St. Paws Pet Rescue, not to mention top stylist to the town’s most elite and furriest residents, she had been on her feet since the crack of dawn, scrubbing down all of her canine kids in preparation for St. Paws’s monthly adoption day, and Domino had thrown a wrench into her schedule. So when he started whimpering as she steered him toward the kennel, which meant scooting all two hundred pounds of dog by his spotted Great Dane tush across the floor, she decided to climb in and show him that kennels weren’t scary—in fact, with the right kennel mate, they could be fun.

Shay retracted
that
statement the minute the door slammed shut and locked behind her.

“You know, with your height and retrieval skills, you could grab me the keys off the counter over there,” she said, pointing to the neon-green lanyard that was two inches out of reach.

Two inches!

“Woof.” Tail wagging, tongue lolling, Domino meandered over to the table, right past the keys, and stuck his head in a fifty-pound bag of kibble.

“That’s puppy chow. It will make your butt big, and no one wants to adopt a dog with a big butt,” Shay warned, then remembered the box of chocolate mini doughnuts she’d inhaled for lunch and made a mental note to run at least five miles tomorrow morning.

Domino, however, seemed unconcerned about his figure and stuck his head in until it disappeared in the bag. At the sound of the crinkling paper all of the dogs ran to the front of their kennels, noses pressed through the bars, straining for a handout. When none came, they started barking—all dozen of them. Which did nothing for the headache she felt coming on.

Shay was just tired enough that she actually could sleep in a dog kennel, and since she was the only stylist on the schedule today, this could easily become an all-nighter. Luckily her superpower was the ability to fall asleep anytime, anywhere, no matter what—something she’d learned by her third foster home.

When the dogs’ barks reached DEFCON 1, so did her headache. She closed her eyes and rested her forehead against her bent knees, needing a moment.

“If you ask me, small butts are overrated,” a low and sexy voice said.

Her eyes snapped open just as a pair of rugged, manly steel-toed boots stopped at the edge of the kennel door. Shay lifted her head and looked up, way up, and—
gulp
—met the eyes of Jonah Baudouin.

He flashed her that department-issued smile and something low in her belly tightened. She’d like to blame it on a natural reaction to the weapon holstered at his hip or quite possibly the badge he carried, but she had a sinking feeling it had more to do with the way he filled out that uniform.

Six foot two of hard muscle on a body that was built to protect and serve, he was the perfect catch if one was into brooding hero types. But Shay didn’t do brooding or heroes, and she most certainly did not do cops.

Ones who made her tingle or otherwise.

Not that it mattered. The only reactions she seemed to inspire within him were irritation or amusement. Today he was packing both. He was also sipping on a giant-sized coffee cup that made her mouth water.

“Sheriff,” she said casually through the bars. This wasn’t her first time in the pokey.

“Deputy,” he corrected. “Still got a month before the election.”

“If you’re here soliciting for support, I have to be honest and say I’m voting for the other guy.” It was clearly a lie. Deputy “Do-Nothing” Bryant could bring a snow machine into hell and still not win. He was lazy and shady, and only had a badge because his grandpa was the current sheriff. “But since you’re here, could you hand me the keys off the grooming station behind you?”

“I’m investigating a stolen property claim,” he said, not even glancing toward the keys. “Mr. Barnwell reported his Dalmatian missing about three hours ago.” Jonah was cool and casual, not a feather ruffled in his perfectly pressed uniform. And that was a bad sign.

“How awful.” Shay placed a horrified hand to her chest.

“Yeah, awful,” he agreed mildly. “Have you seen him today?”

“Mr. Barnwell’s Dalmatian?” She shook her head, hoping she looked more baffled than guilty. “Nope.”

“You wouldn’t lie to an officer of the law, would you?”

She smiled. “Not today.”

“Huh.” He took a leisurely sip of his coffee, which she’d bet the keys to the place was a plain old-fashioned drip—no frills. “That’s odd, because a Caucasian female, wavy light brown hair, about five four and a buck twenty was seen shoving Domino into the back of a late nineties Honda Civic.”

Domino, the
Great Dane
, lifted his head out from the kibble bag and cocked it at the sound of his name. Then he eyed Jonah, and Shay could almost see the dog vibrating with indecision.

Kibble or doggie high five to the crotch? So many choices.

Thank God the kibble won out.

“Lots of people drive Civics,” Shay challenged, tucking a light brown wave of hair behind her ear.

“Yeah, well, only one five-foot-four Civic owner is on record claiming Mr. Barnwell to be”—eyes locked on hers, Jonah set the coffee right next to the keys and pulled a little official-looking notepad from his front shirt pocket and flipped to the middle—“cruel, criminal, and a bad neighbor with questionable hygiene.”

She’d called him a lot more in private. “Sounds like Mr. Barnwell really should brush his teeth twice a day if he intends on making a habit out of yelling in his neighbors’ faces.”

“The getaway car had a St. Paws Animal Rescue sticker on the door—”

“
Getaway car?
Is that official cop jargon?”

“—And the shover in question was reported to be wearing a pair of faded jeans and an orange T-shirt that read ‘I brake for squirrels.’”

He lifted his gaze and zeroed in on the squirrel on her orange shirt.

Shay crossed her arms over the cute squirrel and shrugged. “Sorry, Deputy, can’t help you.”

“Jesus, Shay,” he said, sounding all put out, like he was the one behind bars. “I’m trying to help you here. My bet is that dog is worth a few grand, which means if you have him in your possession it’s a felony. But if you hand Domino over, we will call it a day.”

Either Domino had finished all fifty pounds of kibble in record time or hearing his name again was too tempting, but he lifted his head and barked. Twice. Loudly. Then bounded across the floor at NASCAR speed, skidding to a stop at Jonah’s feet, his nose going straight to the crotch for a big, welcoming sniff.

“You want to change your statement?” he asked. “Or do I need to get out the cuffs and haul you in?”

Maybe she was more exhausted than she thought. Or maybe she’d just gone too long without a bedmate who didn’t shed, but her entire body perked up at the thought of Deputy Serious and his seriously hot cuffs. Which was annoying because uptight, by-the-book men were not her type.

Then again, it had been so long she wasn’t sure she even had a type.

An awkward silence hung between them while they glared at each other, and Domino stared between them, panting.

Breaking eye contact with Jonah, because he was better at it than her, damn it, Shay bent over to pet Domino’s head through the bars.

Domino stopped, dropped, and rolled to assume the belly rub position. She obliged the best she could, her heart going heavy when his tail slapped the floor with excitement and he looked up at her adoringly.

Domino was a lover. He needed attention, affection, love—a family who wanted him, not one obligated to feed and house him.

The perfect family was out there—she just hadn’t found it yet.

Determined, Shay stood to face down one very pissed deputy. Apparently hauling her butt in was not how he’d envisioned his afternoon going. Or more likely, it was all of the paperwork she’d just added to his plate.

“For the record, I didn’t lie. Domino is a Great Dane, not a Dalmatian. A Great Dane, Jonah, who weighs two hundred pounds.” She grabbed the bars and pressed her forehead against the cool metal. “Have you seen the size of the crate they have for him? It’s built for a Chihuahua. He can’t even stand up and he is locked in there all day long. Can you even imagine?”

“Shay,” he sighed, looking up at the ceiling as though seeking divine intervention. She got that a lot.

“It’s cruel and it’s terrible and no one will help me,” she whispered. Jonah stepped forward until she could smell the heat on his skin, and that normal cool and distant expression he wore like Kevlar softened, and so did Shay’s resolve.

“Hard to do when you go breaking into other people’s property and steal their pets.”

“I called your office three times last week when the temperatures hit surface of the sun and I had to give him water through the bars.” She didn’t mention she’d spent most of yesterday sitting by his crate, rubbing his head, and that she’d only decided to take him when Mr. Barnwell threw out the pamphlet she’d put on his doorstep about crate cruelty.

But a felony? This situation was so beyond what she could handle. Mr. Barnwell wasn’t mean, at least she didn’t think so, he was just misinformed—and stubborn.

She looked up at one of the town’s finest and admitted—silently, to herself—that she needed help. She needed his help.

And didn’t that just piss her off.

“If you promise to do something so he isn’t locked back in that crate ever again, then I promise to give him back.”

“You’re making a list of demands?” He laughed, and even though it was aimed at her, she had to admit he had a great laugh. “I have a gun and cuffs and you’re locked in a cage.”

And why did that image have her hormones short-circuiting? No wonder all the women in town pawed over him—the uniform and high-octane testosterone radiating from his every pore were a lethal combination.

“But do you have enough manpower to watch him twenty-four/seven? To make sure he doesn’t ‘run away’ again?” she said.

He braced his hands overhead on the top of the kennel’s door, his mighty fine arms bulging tight against the fabric of his shirt as his frame towered over her. He looked at her long and hard, then at the dog who was staring up at him like he would follow Jonah to the ends of the earth. Which just meant Domino thought Jonah had a stash of bacon stuffed in his pocket.

She knew the moment he gave in. His shoulders relaxed and those intense blue eyes narrowed.

“Fine,” he sighed. “I’ll talk to Mr. Barnwell, but I can’t promise you anything.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” With a smile, Shay stuck her arm through the bars to make their discussion official with a shake. “You can take Domino then.”

When Jonah’s big, rough hand engulfed hers, a zing of something hot raced up her arms and spread out to every happy spot she owned, and a few she’d thought she’d lost. And Shay had no business getting zings or tingles for any man, let alone this one.

Nope, Jonah Baudouin was stable, a straight shooter and, sexy or not, the soon-to-be sheriff—in a place she’d started to think of as more than a temporary stopover.

This wasn’t their first tangle over the law, and she was pretty sure, based on her history, it wouldn’t be their last. So finding out if he used those cuffs for business or pleasure wasn’t in her best interest.

She shook once and waited for him to release her hand. When he just stared at her, she snatched it back. “And I’ll try to stay out of your hair, but I can’t promise anything.”

His mouth twitched. “You do that.” He clipped a leash on Domino and tipped his hat. “Have a good day, Shay.”

“Wait,” she hollered after him. “What about letting me out?”

“Call the other guy. You know, the one you’re voting for.”