From the Moment We Met(4)

“I got to hand it to you, if that’s your solution to ward off would-be suitors, it’s working, darling.” The way he said darling, low and husky, felt like an intimate caress. Too bad he was staring at Richard’s overembellished ego. “It’s enough to give most guys a complex.”

“You intimidated, Jack?” she asked, pulling her robe even tighter.

“Nope.”

Of course he wasn’t. The man was far too capable and accomplished to give in to anything as silly as intimidation. Most people admired that about Tanner. Abby just found it annoying.

Almost as annoying as the way her heart picked up as his gaze took a lazy journey down her body. She revisited the urge to smooth down her hair, just like she resisted the urge to kick him in the shin, when his gaze reached her feet and he chuckled. She didn’t need to look down to realize that she was wearing her Godzilla slippers—they were big, green, badass, and growled every time she walked.

“And I’m not just any guy,” he said, leaning in until she could smell the clean sweat and male perfection wafting off him. “I’m a Hall of Famer.”

Abby glanced at the big Super Bowl ring on his right hand and rolled her eyes. “For most pass receptions in the NFL.”

“Yup, I’m in that Hall of Fame too.” His lips twitched and so did her thighs.

“What are you doing here?” Because this could not be happening. Today was supposed to be the start of her new life. And she didn’t want to begin it with an eerily lifelike replica of the man who had broken her heart, her confidence, and the bank when he’d absconded with twelve million of the town’s dollars. Not to mention staring down the man who’d taken her virginity and something so much more valuable—her ability to trust.

“Darling, half the town is here.” He pointed to the curb, and sure enough, all her neighbors were on their lawns—or hers. “When Richard here came up Main Street it was as though he was Jesus, walking on water, and people just started following him. I saw the senior center loading up their bus and heading this way, headlights on, I’m assuming to be part of the procession. They’ll be here any minute.”

Great.

“So you came to watch the show?”

“Nope.” He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and heat curled low in her stomach. “I came to see if you wanted to go grab a bite to eat. The show’s just a bonus.”

“You already asked me out on a date. I said no.” Although she’d wanted to say yes. Not to the date part. She’d always hated dating. But to the good-night kiss part that usually followed said date. And maybe even to what naturally followed the kiss. Tanner excelled at both.

“You said you were still a married woman, so I backed off.” He smiled. “You’re single now, so the question is back on the table.”

“I’m divorced,” Abby exclaimed, perhaps a tad shrilly. “And I’m not interested.”

“You’re not divorced,” Rodney hollered over the hood of the car, informing everyone in a three-block radius.

Nora pulled out her phone and began filming.

Abby felt everything inside of her still. “Excuse me?”

“That there isn’t just a piece of masterful art carved from a rare marble found only in remote parts of Italy. It’s a vessel,” Rodney said, pointing to the vase in the statue’s hand and taking a moment of silence. “I’m sorry to inform you, Mrs. Moretti, but your husband, Richard Moretti, passed away, long before that there divorce decree was signed. And according to his lawyer, as his widow you are the sole heir to all of his assets.”



  “The hell, I am!”

Jack Tanner watched Abby tear across her lawn, arms swinging and robe flapping at the bottom like some superhero cape. She had her pissed-off female vibe dialed to castrate. “I am a divorced woman. Not a widow. This is just another one of Richard’s stupid scams! Probably a way to elude the police or my lawyer.”

In any other situation, Tanner might laugh. Here he was, watching the DeLuca Darling standing in her front yard in that slinky new robe—yeah, he noticed—staring down a man three times her size with a statue of her naked husband behind her. And the shit of it was, she still managed to turn him inside out every single time he saw her.

“So you’re saying you’re not his widow,” Rodney ventured carefully, as though struggling to understand. “And that you don’t want the statue?”

“Yes, and for the last time yes!” Abby pressed, and damn if Rodney didn’t flinch a little. Abby might be small, but she packed lethal doses of attitude.