one was hurt. Gus and I tossed back a beer, caught up a little, and I drove him home so we could watch the game without all of the noise of the bar.”
Which meant Gus had been tired. And probably in pain. And Colin had to cut his meeting with Ferris short.
Shit.
“So why don’t you go put on clothes that aren’t soaking wet and I’ll get dinner?”
“Thanks,” Tanner mumbled, suddenly feeling exhausted. The high he’d been riding since kissing Abby was gone. Five minutes with his dad and— poof —the excited giddiness of knowing she wanted him was all replaced by an overwhelming heaviness that went bone deep. “I’ll be back down in a few. To eat my chow fun. In the kitchen. Which is where you will all be eating.”
Tanner headed toward his bedroom. Wreck hopped down and loped behind him, licking the floor as he went.
When he’d bought this house he may have indulged himself a bit. To say his hilltop estate was sprawling would be an understatement. His Tuscan villa was big and badass, and had plasma, Sub-Zero, and state-of-the-art bling up the wazoo. It was everything a broke kid living in wine country dreamed of owning when he made it big.
And Jack “Hard Hammer” Tanner had made it more than big. First in the NFL, then in construction. He had more money, more toys, and more respect than he knew what to do with. The only thing he didn’t have was the one person he’d worked so hard to impress.
Abby DeLuca.
And tonight while sitting in that lemon of a fixer-upper with her, he realized that no matter how big his house was, how many toys he filled it with, it still felt empty.
By the time he took a quick shower and threw on a pair of workout shorts and a tee and made his way to the kitchen, it was light on people and to-go boxes.
With a frown, he grabbed a beer from the fridge, took a long pull, and made his way to the family room, where an empty noodle box and Colin sat. Gus was gone.
“He went to bed.” Colin handed Tanner a half-eaten box of Mongolian beef. “Seemed pretty tired, so I made up some lame excuse about how I had to talk to you in private about business and helped him to his bedroom.”
“Thanks,” Tanner said, looking at his friend, who was looking back and about as worried as Tanner was. “Just thinking of what could have gone wrong makes me sick.”
“Well, if it helps, I think he scared the shit out of himself driving to the bar. Must have been hard working the clutch and the brakes down the mountain and through town with one good leg.”
Tanner sat back and shoveled some food into his mouth. Good, but not noodles.
“I have no idea what to do. He refuses to do his physical therapy. He canceled his last two appointments without telling me. The other day I found him facedown on the bathroom floor.” That had been a wake-up call. “I guess he got tired and sat there so long that his legs buckled when he tried to stand. He said he’d only been there for a few minutes, but I’m guessing it was more like a few hours.”
“Jesus, I had no idea it was so bad.”
“Yeah. Pride or not, I’m going to have to get him a nurse. Or at least someone who will stay with him while I’m at work. I just don’t know who I can hire that he wouldn’t scare off.”
“Then don’t hire anyone, just bring him to work with you,” Colin said. “Put him in charge of something simple, something that doesn’t require power tools or his feet leaving the ground.”
“You don’t think that would be a problem?” Tanner asked, and it was like someone had just lifted the three-hundred-pound lineman he’d been carting around for eight weeks right off his chest. “You think I could get away with bringing Dad to the worksite?”
“To the DeLuca cave site, no. There is too much going on there, it would be a huge liability.” Colin at least had the decency to look apologetic. “But to the Pungent Barrel, you bet. It’s a remodel, so no demolition. Plus, it will be a smaller crew. Not
Which meant Gus had been tired. And probably in pain. And Colin had to cut his meeting with Ferris short.
Shit.
“So why don’t you go put on clothes that aren’t soaking wet and I’ll get dinner?”
“Thanks,” Tanner mumbled, suddenly feeling exhausted. The high he’d been riding since kissing Abby was gone. Five minutes with his dad and— poof —the excited giddiness of knowing she wanted him was all replaced by an overwhelming heaviness that went bone deep. “I’ll be back down in a few. To eat my chow fun. In the kitchen. Which is where you will all be eating.”
Tanner headed toward his bedroom. Wreck hopped down and loped behind him, licking the floor as he went.
When he’d bought this house he may have indulged himself a bit. To say his hilltop estate was sprawling would be an understatement. His Tuscan villa was big and badass, and had plasma, Sub-Zero, and state-of-the-art bling up the wazoo. It was everything a broke kid living in wine country dreamed of owning when he made it big.
And Jack “Hard Hammer” Tanner had made it more than big. First in the NFL, then in construction. He had more money, more toys, and more respect than he knew what to do with. The only thing he didn’t have was the one person he’d worked so hard to impress.
Abby DeLuca.
And tonight while sitting in that lemon of a fixer-upper with her, he realized that no matter how big his house was, how many toys he filled it with, it still felt empty.
By the time he took a quick shower and threw on a pair of workout shorts and a tee and made his way to the kitchen, it was light on people and to-go boxes.
With a frown, he grabbed a beer from the fridge, took a long pull, and made his way to the family room, where an empty noodle box and Colin sat. Gus was gone.
“He went to bed.” Colin handed Tanner a half-eaten box of Mongolian beef. “Seemed pretty tired, so I made up some lame excuse about how I had to talk to you in private about business and helped him to his bedroom.”
“Thanks,” Tanner said, looking at his friend, who was looking back and about as worried as Tanner was. “Just thinking of what could have gone wrong makes me sick.”
“Well, if it helps, I think he scared the shit out of himself driving to the bar. Must have been hard working the clutch and the brakes down the mountain and through town with one good leg.”
Tanner sat back and shoveled some food into his mouth. Good, but not noodles.
“I have no idea what to do. He refuses to do his physical therapy. He canceled his last two appointments without telling me. The other day I found him facedown on the bathroom floor.” That had been a wake-up call. “I guess he got tired and sat there so long that his legs buckled when he tried to stand. He said he’d only been there for a few minutes, but I’m guessing it was more like a few hours.”
“Jesus, I had no idea it was so bad.”
“Yeah. Pride or not, I’m going to have to get him a nurse. Or at least someone who will stay with him while I’m at work. I just don’t know who I can hire that he wouldn’t scare off.”
“Then don’t hire anyone, just bring him to work with you,” Colin said. “Put him in charge of something simple, something that doesn’t require power tools or his feet leaving the ground.”
“You don’t think that would be a problem?” Tanner asked, and it was like someone had just lifted the three-hundred-pound lineman he’d been carting around for eight weeks right off his chest. “You think I could get away with bringing Dad to the worksite?”
“To the DeLuca cave site, no. There is too much going on there, it would be a huge liability.” Colin at least had the decency to look apologetic. “But to the Pungent Barrel, you bet. It’s a remodel, so no demolition. Plus, it will be a smaller crew. Not
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