From the Moment We Met

by Adair, Marina

  She had been ready to tell him that she loved him—only before she could, he dropped the bomb that he was moving to New York. Buffalo had chosen him as their first-round draft pick, and he chose to move on without much more than a good-bye.

  Tanner cupped her cheek, and when he spoke he looked her in the eyes. No bullshit, he was saying.

  “You told me how you had found your mom’s dress and how you were going to alter and wear it for homecoming. I figured I’d pretty much messed up any chance of being with you, but I wanted you to wear that dress.”

  It hadn’t been just any dress. It was the dress her mom had worn when she’d been crowned homecoming queen. It was also the dress her mom was wearing when she told Abby’s dad she loved him.

  “But not telling cost you the University of Alabama,” she whispered.

  His thumb slid across her lower lip, and he gave a small smile. “I have no regrets, Abby.”

  Abby had a hard time believing somebody would give up an opportunity that huge for her. A chance to live out his dream for a stupid high school dance and a stupid dress.

  “Most guys wouldn’t see it that way.”

  Tanner was quiet for a moment, just watching her. He didn’t budge, didn’t lose his smile, but the earlier lightness in his expression was gone. Abby could feel the frustration spark and grow in its place, until it filled the narrow space between them. They were face-to-face, and yet she suddenly felt like she was on the other side of the mountain.

  “When are you going to see I’m not most guys, Abs? Not with you, I’m not.”

  A mixture of understanding and sadness—sadness for her—flicked across his face, and Abby had the sudden urge to just give in, tell him she believed him. Believed he was different and that this time it could work out for her. Because when he looked at her like that, as though making a silent promise to never let go, Abby wanted to believe.

  But no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t. Life didn’t work out that way for her. Never had.

  So to protect herself from the heartache, she did what she always did when confronted with something that would only lead to disappointment. She pulled back until it didn’t hurt to breathe.

  Resting on her knees, she held out the washer. “You didn’t shoot.”

  Tanner picked the washer out of her hand, his fingers rough against her skin. Holding out the shot, he paused, his blue eyes so intense, yet so gentle she found herself holding her breath.

  “And Abs, seeing you in that dress was worth losing ten scholarships.”

  “You saw me in my mom’s dress?” she asked around the knot forming in her throat. “You came?”

  His answer was to hold up the washer. “My shot. My question.”

  Ping.

  Clink.

  “You ready?” he whispered gently.

  She nodded, then shook her head, then felt like crying. She didn’t know if she’d ever be ready.

  “I need to know the truth. This is important. Are you really a damn Seahawks fan?”

  There went that grin of his, double-barreled dimpled and so damn reassuring she felt herself start to laugh. Felt all of the disappointment and sadness fade into something lighter. Something hotter. Something fun and flirty.

  Tanner had that effect on her. Always had. Even when they were kids he’d had a way of easing the hurt, making her laugh instead of cry. He used to say his job was to make her smile.

  And Tanner always took his job seriously. And so did Abby. And it was time to get down to business.

  Stepping to the ground, she stretched her hands behind her to grab the zipper of her dress, slowly tugging it lower until she was pretty sure one roll of the shoulder was all that stood between her and the night air.

  Tanner knew it too. All humor gone, he stared at her with a quiet intensity, his eyes glued to her chest as though willing her to drop the dress.

  Desire poured over her, and with a quirk of the lips she asked, “Want to see?”

  Want to see what? Confirmation he was the luckiest son of a bitch on the planet?

  Fuck yeah, he did. Tanner had waited ten years for this chance again. Ten long years, and he wasn’t going to let his dick run the show this time. Giving in to the desire had cost him Abby twice, and Tanner didn’t want to repeat history. Almost as much as he wanted her to lose the dress.

  He’d wanted her to lose the dress the second she’d walked out on her front porch and the breeze caught the bottom of the skirt. The dress was a soft yellow, outlining her every curve, and had little straps and a deep neckline showing way too much and not nearly enough. Then there were her shoes—Jesus, her shoes were tall and slinky and when worn with that dress, it was a design to mess with a man’s mind.

  And being that Tanner was a man, and Abby was one hundred percent woman, his mind had decided to take up residence in his pants. He opened his mouth to do the right thing—which was not taking her in the cab of his truck—and ended up holding out the tumbler and saying, “Darling, ‘want to see?’ is a question. And according to your rules, a question requires a sink.”

  Challenge flashed in her eyes and Tanner found himself smiling. Nothing was sexier than Abby when she was feeling competitive. When he was the prize, she was damn near irresistible.

  Without warning, Abby gave a circle with one shoulder, so small it had Tanner sitting up straight and holding his breath, praying it was enough. And—ah, man, he was toast—it was.

  The strap slid down her arm, inch by inch, and when it hit her elbow it came down to a simple matter of mathematics.

  Mass plus velocity meant Tanner was about to see, once and for all, if the kick pants matched the pom-poms.

  And thank God math skills did translate to the real world because, like clockwork, the dress slid to the grass in one glorious swoop, leaving her in those mile-high heels, tan skin, and enough hometown pride to make his heart swell.

  He’d had his share of fantasies over the years involving Abby and her pom-poms, but watching her finger trace the scalloped edge of red lace on her bra, while she walked toward him in what he could only call do-me pumps, ranked right up there with playing mud football with her—naked.

  Then she gave a little turn, showcasing the merchandise, and holy hell, the lacy panties she had on might be boy cut in the front, but they were all thong in the back and, when standing in the setting sun, incredibly and miraculously sheer.

  Man, she was gorgeous. The biggest brown eyes he’d ever seen, full lush lips, a body that was compact but curvy in all the right places—and headed his way.

  She smiled as she joined him on the tailgate, not stopping until she was straddling his lap with her bare backside firmly planted on his thighs. With a smile that had him about to blow right out of his jeans, she plucked the washer out of the glass, held it over the rim and—

  Oh, hell.

  She just dropped it in. No bounce, no rebound, no more games. She just sank the washer right in the tumbler with that sexy smile that pretty much said, Fuck the rules.

  Tanner was on board immediately.

  “Last question, so listen up.” A hard task when her breasts were right there, demanding all of his attention. “Which half do you want first?”

  “Well,” he said, his hands exploring the edge of her panties until he felt smooth skin—skin that was so damn soft.

  He didn’t stop until he had two palmfuls of the sweetest ass he’d ever held. Tightening his grip, he spun them around until she was trapped between the truck bed and his body, looking up at him a little shocked, a whole lot turned on. “I think I need to do some research before I can make a decision this important.”

  He let his hand slide up and over her stomach, loving how her muscles quivered. “Some up close and personal research.”

  “I was a research assistant in college.” Her hands fisted in his hair. “Maybe I can hel
p?”

  “Maybe,” he said against her lips, then kissed her, and he’d bet his land she’d gotten straight A’s as an assistant. She helped him right out of his shirt, tossing it over the side of the truck, then went to work on his pants, which he hoped led to the kind of assistance he really needed.

  In fact, he was seriously considering asking Abby to be his assistant, so they could do this five or six times a day—ten on the weekends. And all the assisting would be done naked. And outdoors.

  Yeah, naked and outdoors would be amazing.

  She was amazing. Amazing and smart and stubborn and sexy and funny and—Hello—she was going for his zipper.

  He may have groaned, maybe even said some nonsense aloud, but he sure as hell felt his eyes roll to the back of his head when her fingers brushed against the hard ridge of him. Before he could unscramble his brain, her elegant fingers, the ones he’d watched twice a week for the past year stroke the keys of her piano, made their way under the fabric of his briefs, running lightly over the tip, then shyly stroking him before giving a gentle squeeze.

  “Abby,” he groaned, taking her mouth again.

  There was nothing shy about the way she made him feel. And he was feeling a hell of a lot. Which was the only excuse he had for pushing farther into her hand, letting her know just what she did to him, and damn if she didn’t meet him halfway.

  He nibbled down her neck, to her shoulder, loving the little breathy noises she made when he paused to suck her skin into his mouth and how she arched up into him, as though as hungry for his touch as he was for her taste.

  “I forgot how . . . oh, my . . .” Her breath caught and she trailed off as he traced her nipple through the fabric with his tongue.

  “You forgot what?” he asked against the wet lace.

  “How much I like it when you do that.” She arched up.

  He looked up at her and smiled. “I didn’t.”

  He remembered every damn thing about her. How she liked to be touched, how she liked to be teased, and how, when she was in his arms, moaning his name, his whole world felt right.

  “Do it again.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” And he did. Using his teeth, he gave the fabric a gentle tug and, would ya look at that? She spilled right out over the top. So he did it to the other side and, man oh man, she was about the sexiest thing he’d ever encountered.

  She was also special. A thought that made him stop—midtease. Here she was pretty much naked, lying on the cold bed of his truck in the middle of a field, and once again—he was that guy.

  “Abby,” he said, pulling slightly back.

  “Are we savoring again?” She wrapped her legs around him. “Because I’m done with the savoring part. We can savor next time.”

  Well, at least she was thinking about a next time. Problem was, he was thinking about the time after that and, well, a whole summer of next times and maybe even stretching into the fall and winter. But this time—this time was different. Special.

  Deserving of her.

  Something he should have realized the first time, but was too young, too stupid, and way too horny to understand.

  “I want this to be special,” he admitted, and when she smiled up at him like that, like he was everything she needed, he realized he wanted to be the guy who made her every moment special. “I want to take you out to a nice dinner, then take you home and lay you out on my big, soft bed and explore every inch of you, then wake up holding you and do it all over again.”

  “I don’t want a fancy dinner, and I don’t want to wait until we’re in your bed, Jack. I want you.” Her legs tightened. “Right here, in the middle of this field you obviously love.”

  Tanner actually felt his entire world stop. Felt something between them warm, become softer. Oh, the heat and the passion and the need were all still there, so intense that one spark and—boom. It would always be like that with them. If a decade couldn’t take the edge off, this sexual intensity would be a forever kind of thing.

  “But,” she said, and there it was.

  Tanner’s heart gave a final, painful pump to the chest and waited for her to finish. For her to point out the buts and exceptions and conditions he’d heard his entire life.

  She leaned up and crushed her mouth to his. “We need to get you out of these clothes.”

  How was a man to argue with that? Out of all the scenarios he’d run in his head the past few days, he’d never imagined this evening would end in the back of his truck with her naked—taking off his clothes.

  Always a team player, he went to work on his boots and, after pulling out a condom from his back pocket and setting it on the tailgate, together they made short order of his pants, although her hands were doing more copping than helping, but he was okay with that. More than okay. He was so okay with the turn of events that he was smiling like a damn idiot.

  Oddly enough, he was okay with that too. In fact, he was still smiling when she kissed him again. Considered giving her an enthusiastic high five when she gently pushed his shoulders until he was completely on his back and—best day ever—her panties joined his pants on the grass.

  But she left the bra on.

  Not that it was doing much more than acting as a tray for his viewing pleasure, since he’d managed to tug the cups all the way down.

  God, she was a sight. Straddling him with the orange sky behind her made her skin glow and highlighted her brown hair as it tumbled over her shoulders and around her face, making her features appear even more delicate.

  “Um, Tanner.” She held out the condom. Her hands were shaking. “Do you want me to . . . ?”

  While he was staring his fill, he’d neglected to remember it had been a long time for her. And she was beyond nervous.

  “Come here.” Sitting up, he took the condom from her and wrapped his arms around her, his hands going immediately to her ass. After a gentle squeeze, he scooted her toward him, and when she was so close they were sharing the same heat, he whispered, “I wanted to see if you still love it when I do this.”

  Tanner lifted her slightly, then let her slide back down, all of her soft parts rubbing against his hard ones. The breathy sigh she gave told him she more than liked it. So he did it again, taking his time to make sure she was too turned on to be nervous.

  She arched her back at the first contact, pushing against his massive erection, taking the friction from hot to holy fuck.

  “Tanner,” she whispered against his neck. “Now. I want you inside of—”

  He had the condom opened and on and was sliding home before she could even finish her sentence. But instead of moving, he just held her, fitting her perfectly against him while rubbing his hands up and down her back as they both took a moment to remember how amazing this felt.

  Abby pulled back and looked up at him. “It’s better than I remember.”

  “It’s exactly how I remember it.” Perfect.

  Tanner lifted her slightly then let her slide back down. She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding on so tight her breasts were crushed to his chest.

  She began moving incredibly slowly at first, and he could feel every part of their bodies rub and grind against each other. It took everything he had to hold on.

  The pace picked up, their skin slick with the summer air, and the sensations were so sensual they blew right past mind-blowing and were quickly approaching life-altering when her gasps came closer and closer. Her eyes slid half-closed with pleasure as her arms hugged him tighter and tighter, and he knew, knew, she was there. She was one flex of the hip away from—

  “Perfect. You feel perfect,” she said on a gasp, throwing her head all the way back, and that was it. That was all it took.

  He called out her name as her body tensed around him and they both fell together. Tanner held her tightly to him, refusing to let go until they rode out every last wave.

 
They were still both breathing heavily when she opened her eyes and smiled shyly up at him. That’s when Tanner knew he was in serious trouble. With that one smile, Abby turned what was supposed to be a simple first and goal into something more complicated.

  Somewhere between playing Bullshit together and a blitz attack from the DeLuca Darling, Tanner ended up fumbling his heart.

  CHAPTER 14

  It was a perfect day in wine country, Abby thought as she made her way up the steps of town hall and between the two massive columns, her blueprints clutched to her chest and her Certificate of Inspection slip in hand. The mustard weed was in full bloom, painting the valley a brilliant yellow. Early-morning tourists made their way up and down Main Street, window shopping and sipping their morning pick-me-ups. Even the weather was perfect, bringing a gentle breeze to combat the warm August sun and rustle the bright purple lavender that lined the streets and scented the air.

  Proud they’d passed inspection with flying colors and exhilarated to get this project rolling, Abby pushed through the ornate wooden doors, loving how the raw silk of her little Jackie O–inspired dress swished as she walked. It was dusty blue, sleek, and sophisticated, with an inspired little bow in the back adding a bit of romantic to the professional. Matched with her favorite vintage heels, it made the perfect statement.

  Designer on a mission.

  A mission she was about to put into action. The Pungent Barrel was the first order of business of the morning, and the board was expected to make its ruling by the end of the work day. Which meant Tanner could finally start installing the materials and retrofitting the old conveyer belt.

  Just thinking about Tanner made her stomach flip. Not only had he given her the best sex of her life, he’d brought her to his favorite spot, shared a piece of himself with her. Something he’d never done before.

  In the past, Abby had been the one to share, and Tanner would listen, but he’d always kept big parts of his life to himself. On their date, he’d opened up to her and offered to let her be a part of something important to him.