From the Moment We Met (26 page)

CHAPTER 19

W
here’s Abby?” Babs said, nerves wearing at her normally sunny smile.

She’s not coming,
Tanner thought, taking a sip of scotch and setting it back on the counter.

Beer wasn’t going to cut it tonight.

Nope, tonight he stood at the back of the Pungent Barrel, watching Nora and the rest of the Historical Preservation Committee examine every inch of the room, pointing out the ingenuity behind the wine bottle chandeliers, admiring every little historical detail Abby had maintained, knowing by the way their eyes kept lighting up that they’d won. Yet all he could think about was the enormous knot in his chest.

It would almost be easier to give up breathing than face another minute there, in a place where every inch reminded him of what he’d lost. He knew she’d been by today—the flowers and last-minute decor had magically appeared when he’d taken a short break for lunch. But he hadn’t seen her. And not wanting to take anything away from her on this special night, he had given her the space she obviously desired.

“She’s not here,” Tanner said, taking another sip, letting it burn down his throat. “Maybe give her a call.”

“That’s a good idea,” Babs said, wringing her hands. “The committee has their decision, and they have a representative at each of the finalists’ homes. Waiting. Nora asked me ten minutes ago where Abby was, said they need the designer present to announce the winner. Oh, look, Ferris is here.”

Babs pointed to her son standing near Gus, who was stoically listening to every word Ferris said, which were likely about himself. If he was trying to win any points with Babs, it was working. The woman sighed and clasped her heart. Tanner rolled his eyes.

“I’ll go call her,” Babs said. “Tonight is going to be perfect. In fact, thanks to you and Abby, everything is perfect just like I dreamed. Thank you.” With a kiss to his cheek—which felt damn good, if he were being honest—Babs disappeared into the crowd.

And it was a crowd. Most of the town had turned out. Partly to see the new cheese shop, but mainly to see if the rumors were true that Abigail DeLuca had really managed to raise the
Titanic
. The surprise was on them that she hadn’t raised it—she had utterly transformed it.

Just like she’d transformed him. Only she wasn’t here to witness either miracle.

Someone entered the shop and Tanner’s gaze flew to the door. He held his breath as a beautiful brunette in a long black gown entered—a beautiful brunette who wasn’t Abby.

“Fuck me,” he mumbled, taking another sip.

“If we aren’t getting any, then you sure as hell aren’t,” Marc said, walking up behind him, Nate and Trey in tow.

“Great.” Just great, he thought as they sidled up to the bar, pressing in around him like one big DeLuca sandwich with a smear of pissed-off Italian. “After weeks of silence, you guys decide to start talking to me now?”

“Against our better judgment, yes,” Nate said, flagging down the waiter and gesturing for another round of scotch.

“
I
want to take you outside and kick the shit out of you for making my sister cry, but Frankie will have my balls,” Nate said, sending him a look that spoke volumes.

“She already has you by the balls,” Trey laughed.

“Abby was crying?” Tanner asked, then shut up because he already knew. Tears had been right there in her eyes, ready to spill over the second she slammed the door in his face. He’d sat outside on her stoop, waiting to see if she’d change her mind and invite him back in, waiting with his ear pressed to the door, listening to make sure she was okay, telling himself at the first hint of a sniffle he’d break down the damn door. But he’d heard nothing.

Around four in the morning he was finished being that ten-year-old kid, sitting on the front porch waiting for his mom to come home and not knowing why she didn’t. So he dragged his sorry ass home, where he lay in bed staring at the ceiling until morning trying to figure out what he’d done wrong.

And he’d come up short.

Sure, the game plan had changed, but he’d been honest from the start about working with Ferris, about how important this could be for Tanner Construction. It wasn’t his fault Ferris decided to move the project to Santa Barbara. Or that she didn’t see enough in him to think they could last through the distance.

Yet here he was, sitting on a barstool, waiting for her to come and tell him what he did wrong.

“Forget kicking his ass,” Marc said with a laugh, and Tanner wanted to ask him what was so funny. “He looks even worse than anything we could ever inflict. Jesus, you look worse than Nate did when Frankie dropped on him they were having twins.”

“You’re having twins?” Tanner asked, surprised when he found himself wondering what that would feel like, knowing Abby was carrying his baby. Not that
that
was even a possibility now. “Congratulations.”

“I’ll relay your message to Mittens, since he’s having twins,” Nate said, referring to his wife’s pet alpaca. “Seems that horse corral over off Silverado Trail added a few alpacas to the mix. Mittens made a run for it and spent two days in paradise before we found him. Frankie’s already bought a box of cigars. So I guess this round’s on me.”

Nate dropped a bill on the countertop when the waiter delivered their drinks. Silently, they all toasted and took a sip.

Marc set his glass on the counter, then his forearms, and leaned in. “You want to tell me why my sister spent her day using that statue for target practice and why you look like you got caught in the crossfire?”

“She shot up Richard?”

“Or blew him up,” Trey said with a laugh. “Took Rodney and me over two hours to find all of his parts.”

“What does that even mean?” Tanner asked, resting his forehead on his hands.

“What do you want it to mean?” Nate asked quietly.

“Hell, I don’t know,” he admitted, not sure he even wanted to get into this with the three people who had been against him and Abby from the start. But they had more experience with women than anyone else he knew, most particularly Abby.

And yeah, he was that desperate.

“Everything was going fine, better than fine, perfect, then I told her about Ferris offering us the job and that was it. She was done. Didn’t want to talk about how to make it work, just heard commute and out I went. But I didn’t know she was crying.” He looked up so the guys could see the truth in his eyes. “If I had heard her crying I never would have left.”

The brothers exchanged a knowing look, then the bastards had the nerve to smile. “You know what?” Tanner stood. “Forget it.”

“Slow down,” Marc said, resting a hand on Tanner’s shoulder. “I think I know what happened.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, so take a seat.” Tanner did. “In any part of your speech about the job—you guys, making the distance work—did you ever tell her you loved her?”

“No,” Tanner said quickly, then stopped because his stomach started acting up, getting hot and pissed off—and this was why he never drank anything except beer. “We’ve only been seeing each other for a few weeks. Plus, she just got out of a divorce. The last thing she needs is some guy trying to push himself into her life.”

And that was why he’d thought taking the job in Santa Barbara and seeing Abby on the weekends would work. Hell, it sounded like the perfect idea. They could explore where this was going and not rush into something that could hurt either one of them. But the more Tanner thought about it, the more he realized
he
was the one who had wanted distance, because he was afraid if he went all-in with Abby and lost her again, he wouldn’t recover.

And he’d lost her anyway.

Marc grinned and Tanner wanted to punch him. “So is that a no you don’t love her or no you didn’t tell her?”

“What the hell difference does it make?” But suddenly it made all the difference in the world, because he did love her. Loved her with everything he was. Loved her more than Santa Barbara, more than Oakwood, more than his damn Super Bowl ring.

Holy shit. Abby was his Super Bowl. He’d passed and fumbled so many times with her he wasn’t even sure what he was doing anymore. Except he didn’t want to play in any game unless she was on his team. And he wanted to be on her team so badly it hurt to breathe.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Marc said, picking up his scotch and draining it in one swallow.

“Go in the men’s room and look yourself in the mirror and say, ‘I love you, Abby, and I screwed up. Tell me how to fix it.’ Then practice it a good hundred times before you see her,” Trey said, clapping him on the back.

“You love Abby?”

Tanner looked up to find Colin on the other side of the bar. Face serious, everything they had shared over the past twenty years right there between them. And Tanner knew the next few moments could cost him the best friend he’d ever had.

Tanner nodded. “With everything I am, Col.” And damn that felt good to say.

“I think I already knew that.” A long, tense silence followed, filling the space. Colin looked over at Ferris then back to Tanner. “What about Santa Barbara?”

That was the question Tanner had been struggling with ever since Colin had brought it up earlier that week. And what Tanner kept coming back to was that Santa Barbara, while an opportunity of a lifetime, wasn’t his opportunity.

Abby was his opportunity of a lifetime. An opportunity he had walked away from twice because figuring out how to mesh their worlds had seemed too hard. An opportunity he had one last shot at, and there was no way he was walking away this time.

“I’m not going,” Tanner said.

“But we’ve worked for a year solid on this,” Colin said. He didn’t sound angry or betrayed, just hurt. Confused.

“
You
have worked toward this, Col. This is your thing, has been from the beginning, and I think you should go. I think we should set up a SoCal office, or if you want to start your own company, I would even be the first one to step up and invest.” Tanner looked his friend in the eye, wanting him to know he had absolute faith in his abilities and talent. “Either way, you’ve got this, Col. You are more than ready and I’m always in your corner.”

“But I don’t get it. What will you do here you can’t accomplish down there?” Colin asked, sounding lost, and Tanner wondered if that’s what he’d looked like only moments ago.

“Going after what makes me happy. And that is Abby.”

“‘I love you, Abby, and I screwed up. Tell me how to fix it,’” Trey repeated from over his shoulder.

Tanner shot him a look because he got it. “Then after I finish up these assholes’ cave, I’m going to start laying down the plans for Oakwood.”

Colin started. “You’re still going to build out Oakwood? On your own?”

“Yeah,” Tanner said, thinking about Abby’s designs. “I have a few ideas and the perfect designer in mind. I figure it will take about eighteen months to line up the permits, the investors, get all of the blueprints drawn up so that when you get back from your Super Bowl in Santa Barbara you can just roll in and we can start blowing shit up. That is, if you’re still interested.”

“Still interested?” Colin laughed and all of the tension between them drained away. “I’ve been waiting my whole career to build that land with you.”

Tanner held out his hand and Colin took it, only he pulled him in for a bro hug. And for the first time since Ferris had approached them with an offer a year ago, Tanner felt like he’d made the right decision. And that he finally had his partner back.

“If you two are done hugging it out,” Trey said, “it looks like they’re about to announce the winner, so that gives you about thirty seconds to find a mirror, bro, because the designer just got here. And if you break her heart, I will kill you with my bare hands.”

Tanner quickly scanned the room, his heart rolling over when he got to the big arch he’d helped Abby measure, because there she was. Abigail DeLuca. Standing at the head of the room, dressed in a slinky dress that hugged every single one of her luscious curves, complete with thigh-high slit.

And Tanner knew, without a doubt, this was his woman.

His future.

His everything.

Because not only was she the most important thing in his world—she was wearing Niners red.

“The Historical Preservation Council of St. Helena is proud to say the Jackson Bottlery is not only architectural preservation at its highest level, but quite possibly the most stunning and innovative residence we have seen in years. So it is with great honor I announce this year’s Memory Lane Manor of the Year Award recipient, the Pungent Barrel, a bottlery turned cheese and wine destination that is sure to stun visitors and inspire restoration in generations to come.”

Nora handed the gold nameplate to Babs, but Abby didn’t miss the way her neighbor looked at her through the entire speech.

“It’s beautiful,” Babs said into the mic, running a weathered hand along the golden seal that would hang above the entryway, announcing to all who entered that this was an establishment of history and elegance. “Thank you to the council for this great honor, and to my late husband, Leroy, for being romantic enough to buy a whimsical old lady a piece of land because she heard a story that touched her heart.”