The Billionaire Next Door (Billionaire Bad Boys #2)(92)

As if in answer to a prayer, a waiter delivered a glass of champagne to her. She put her hand on the stem and started to tell him his timing was impeccable when the overhead lights caught the edge of a diamond cuff link.

Wait.

She’d never seen a waiter wearing diamond cuff links. Wearing cuff links at all, she thought as she stared at one broad, tanned hand.

“Will there be anything else?” A deep, delicious voice washed over her. Goose bumps raised on her arms as she turned her eyes up to find Tag standing over her. He wore a tuxedo, which was ridiculously formal for the borderline casual summer wedding, but he didn’t look ridiculous. Long hair flowing over his shoulders, bow tie perfectly tied, jacket and pressed shirt…He looked like the man who’d stolen her heart without her permission. Even now it throbbed painfully as if in response to being this close to its missing piece.

“What are you doing here?” Her eyes followed as he lowered into a plastic rental chair.

“I came here for you.” His sideways smile went a long way to making her feel better. “You told me that on Oahu. Remember?”

Before she could reply, the DJ interrupted the music with an announcement.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have a last-minute toast for the bride and groom from…” The DJ slid on his glasses and read from a card in his hand. “Taggart Crane?”

“I’ll be right back, Dimples.” Tag winked, stood, and then crossed the tent. Rachel watched him go, thinking of the first time she’d seen him on that city sidewalk outside of Crane Tower. And then again at Oliver’s front door. He looked the same, tall, massive, too much hair, trimmed beard—but now he was so familiar that all of her ached to be closer to him. The attraction was foreign when she’d first felt it, but now she couldn’t picture herself without him. He just seemed to belong wherever he was. Wherever she was. Here, at this wedding and wearing that tux, he belonged.

Because he belonged with her.

He took the microphone as feedback screeched from the speakers.

After a quick adjustment, the DJ gave Tag the thumbs-up.

“Good evening.” Tag cleared his throat, adjusting his collar like he was nervous. “Been a while since my last public speaking gig,” he said with an uncomfortable laugh, his voice notably subdued.

He was nervous. Rachel noted the way his hand shook when he swiped his fingers along his brow. Evidently, there were two things Tag Crane couldn’t do well. Play pool and speak publicly.

“First of all, congratulations on your wedding.” Tag waved at the bride and groom, who were across the room at the head table, wearing curious smiles. “I promise I won’t be long. I already asked the photographer not to document this for your album.”

The crowd laughed.

“The truth is, I didn’t come here for you guys.” Tag’s voice dipped and his eyes found hers across the room. “I came here for Rachel Foster.”

Gasps surrounded her as every pair of eyes migrate to her. She put her hand to her warm face and waited for him to say more.

“Ask my brothers and they’ll confirm I’m not one to focus on the past or the future, which is why they put me in charge of throwing parties at Crane Hotels instead of assisting with new builds.” He licked his lips before he continued with a slightly off-topic segue. “Parties are important. Parties like this one. Right? Weddings are a big deal because celebrating the present matters. I’ve always believed that. Living in the present is where it’s at. Then I met Rachel—Dimples,” he corrected with a flooring smile. “And while I never planned for our future, whenever I was with her, I knew I didn’t want our present to end.”

Her heart climbed into her throat and made her next breath a struggle.

“Isn’t that what the future is?” Tag stepped off the stage and walked toward her as he talked. “The present continually unwrapping itself for years to come? When I was on Maui for work,” he said, addressing the crowd with more confidence than before, “I stood on a piece of land where my company will build our next hotel. I could see it.” He refocused on her. “Even though it wasn’t there yet, I knew what it should look like.”

When he reached her, he lowered to a squat, the microphone to his mouth, the only sign he was nervous evident in one shaking hand.

“I see us like that, Dimples,” he spoke right to her, his voice even, his gaze unwavering. “We’re not a bare patch of land, but we’re not finished yet either. I can see more.”

“You can?” she couldn’t help asking, her voice watery from unshed tears.

“Yeah. I can.” He drew in a quick breath. “I let you leave without telling you how much I love you. How much you’ve changed me. I didn’t even know I was broken until I met you. Thanks a lot for that,” he tacked on wryly.

The crowd chuckled again, eating him up. Tag had never lacked charm. Never lacked honesty. There was so much sincerity in his words, but what was killing her was the way they matched the love swimming in his eyes.

She could see it. And she could feel it.

“I love you, too,” she whispered.

He grinned then, the biggest smile she’d ever seen him wear. It parted his beard and showed off his teeth. He snatched her off the chair and lifted her off the ground, hugging her close as he kissed the breath right out of her.