What happened to staying on the sidelines? “I’ve got this, Hunter,” she told him. Last thing she needed was for him to butt in and make a bad situation worse.
Warren’s mottled face grew a shade redder. “‘This’?” Too late, Abby realized her poor choice words. The switch flipped and the true Warren appeared. “You think I’m something you need to ‘handle’?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know what you meant, you ungrateful cow.” This time when he reached for her, he was successful, latching on to her arm with an iron grip. “I’m done playing around. Let’s go.”
She stood her ground. “No.”
Warren yanked her arm. Abby winced.
“The lady said no.” Hunter had gotten up and moved between them, essentially blocking their exit.
“Get out of my way,” Warren said.
“How about you let go of her arm?”
By now the other customers were watching. Guy had come out from the kitchen and was about two seconds away from throwing them all out. Abby’s pulse began to race. She half considered going, if to only keep the scene from escalating any further.
“We can talk,” she said, scrambling for a compromise. “But here. Sit down and I’ll bring you some coffee.”
It didn’t work. “Since when do you tell me what I can and can’t do? After everything I’ve done for you? You’re lucky I’m taking you back after the way you humiliated me.”
“I’m not going back!” For crying out loud, it was like a broken record. Abby yanked herself free, only to stumble backward into Hunter’s table, knocking his coffee cup off balance. The cup fell on its side, hot liquid spilling over the edge, where it dripped on the camera below.
“Son of a—” Hunter grabbed for it just as the liquid began running down the outer casing. “This is a five-thousand-dollar camera.”
“Serves you right for butting in where you don’t belong.” Warren sneered.
Hunter set the camera down on a clean table. “That so?” he asked. His voice was low and precise. Compared with Warren’s bluster, the quiet deliberateness sounded like ice. The air in the diner chilled.
“Seems to me,” Hunter said, stepping into the other man’s space, “that the problem started when you walked in the door. Now if my camera has any damage at all, you’re going to pay.”
Her ex-boyfriend scoffed, not realizing he was out of his league. “I’m not paying you for anything.”
Hunter took another step. “Oh, I think you will.”
“Okay, you three...”
A standoff. Just great. It figured Warren would choose today to become macho and proud. It was the money. He would run into a burning building to protect five thousand dollars. Meanwhile, Guy was limping over to them. Abby almost groaned out loud. This could only end one way. Badly and with her getting fired. Quickly she stepped between the two men, hoping to regain control before Guy took action. “Look, guys, I’m sure if there’s a problem we can—”
“Stay out of this!” Warren snapped. With that, he did what he did best—shoved her aside. Stuck between two tables, Abby found herself with little room to maneuver. Her feet tangled with a chair leg and she fell to the floor, but not before her back slammed into the edge of one of the tables. The table tipped, scraping her skin from bra strap to waist, and sending its contents spilling. Glass and silverware landed on the floor behind her.
So did Hunter’s camera. It hit the floor with a crack. The diner went still.
After that, everything happened in a flash. A patron gasped, Guy started yelling, and Abby barely had time to catch her breath before Hunter’s fist connected with Warren’s jaw.
* * *
“Still think you have the situation under control?” Hunter asked.
The two of them sat on a marble bench in the corridor of the new courthouse. After Hunter threw his punch, and Guy threw the three of them out on the sidewalk, Warren had insisted on dragging a nearby traffic cop into the mess by claiming he’d been assaulted. All three of them had ended up in a police station, where Hunter, ever helpful, had suggested the police ask about the bruises on Abby’s wrist. They did, and after a whole lot of questions, she found herself here, at the courthouse, waiting to speak to a judge about a nonharassment order against Warren.
“No,” she said, answering Hunter’s question. She felt anything but in control. Though she might have been if he’d minded his own business. “I could have sworn I told you to mind your own business.”
“You’d rather I let him twist your arm off?”
What she’d rather was if the whole incident had never happened. “You didn’t hit him for me,” she pointed out.
“No, I hit him because he damn near destroyed my camera. And because he shoved you to the ground.”
“Yeah, let’s not forget that,” Abby replied, arching her back. No sense pointing out she was the one, technically, who’d knocked over the camera. Nor the fact that the camera wouldn’t have fallen in the first place had he minded his own business—as he claimed he preferred to do.
Letting out a frustrated sigh, she looked down at Hunter’s hands. They were big, strong hands, she noted. Showing barely a mark where his fist had connected with Warren’s face. “You get most of the ink off?” she asked.
His shoulder moved up and down. “Most of it.”
That was another thing. Because Warren had cried assault, Hunter had found himself being charged. Good thing her knight in shining armor didn’t have any outstanding warrants, or they might still be at the station house. Abby supposed she should feel bad about the fingerprinting and all, but again, it wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t interfered. In fact, if he hadn’t interfered the day before, none of today would have happened at all.
She let out another sigh. “Do me a favor. Next time I say I’ve got a situation handled, stay out of it. I don’t care what your Southern mother taught you.”
“Do I have to remind you that saying you could handle the situation caused part of the problem? Unless your idea of handling was to get dragged out into the street. ’Cause that’s where your ex-boyfriend was taking you.”
Recalling Warren’s grip on her arm, Abby winced. Hunter was right, unfortunately. She just couldn’t bring herself to say thank-you. Not quite yet. “Well, after I meet with the judge, I won’t have to worry about Warren bothering me again. Nothing says ‘we’re over’ like a restraining order.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t get a court order before,” Hunter remarked.
“I didn’t think I’d need one.” A stupid assumption now that she thought about it. She should have listened to the ladies at McKenzie House. They’d told her Warren wouldn’t let her end things on her terms.
Why weren’t courthouse benches made more comfortable? The narrow space forced Abby and Hunter close together. Well, that and the fact that his long frame took up so much space. His thigh was pressed against hers and she could feel his jacket brush against her sleeve every time he breathed. The increased body heat had her feeling off balance. She tried shifting her weight, but nothing changed. Everywhere she moved, Hunter was there, his hard, lean body pressed tightly against hers, the contact sending disconcerting tingles up and down her arm.
This was crazy. She was in a courthouse, for goodness’ sake, filing a restraining order. Wrapping her cardigan tightly about her, she stood up, only to wince when her clothing rubbed her bruised skin.
“How is your back?” Hunter asked.
The truth? Her back stung like heck every time she moved, and a headache