The Courage To Say Yes

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 pounded her temples. “I’ve had worse.”

“You always such a bad liar?”

Abby looked at him through narrowed eyes. “What can I say? I’m off my game.”

And who could blame her? Too much had happened in a very short time. Her system needed recharging. She crossed the hallway to lean against the wall, grateful for the additional personal space.

Hunter stayed on the bench, forearms resting on his knees. Abby had been too annoyed with him earlier to notice, but he looked as tired as she felt. “Why are you still here?” she asked, voicing a question that had been bothering her for a while. “The police said you could go a couple hours ago.”

“I’ve stayed this long. Might as well see the process through.”

Thus making a difficult situation all the much more awkward. Abby combed her fingers through the hair around her face. “I thought you weren’t into rescues.”

“I’m not. But I’m also not into leaving loose ends.”

“That’s how you see me? As a loose end?”

“Your goon of an ex-boyfriend is,” he replied. “What on earth were you doing with him, anyway?”

Something she’d asked herself a million times, hating the answer. “He was different when we met. Bought me gifts. Took me places. I bought the act.” She could feel Hunter’s eyes on her, waiting for more. “You’ve got to understand. I wasn’t used to nice.

“Or attention,” she added, fiddling with a button. “I mean, he lost his temper once in a while, but he was always really sorry. Wasn’t all that different from other families, right?”

Hunter raised a brow.

“I was nineteen years old. What did I know?” Obviously not a lot.

What bothered her the most about her story was how easily she’d made Warren the center of her world. Everything these past years had been about him. His moods, his wishes. Letting herself disappear. That was her biggest crime. All because he’d been nice.

“Sounds pretty stupid, huh?” she said to Hunter, although she could have easily been talking to herself.

Her companion hadn’t changed his position other than to lower his gaze to the floor. She wished she could see his eyes, to know what he was thinking. How could someone like him ever truly understand? A man who looked like Hunter, who carried himself with as much confidence as Hunter—his world was probably filled with men and women begging for his company. What would he know about “falling for a kind word”?

“I try to make a point of not judging,” he said as he studied the palm of his hand.

“Really? I think you might be the first.”

Though his eyes remained focused on the ground, Abby saw his cheek tug in a smirk. “Let’s say I’ve learned not to make assumptions about things. Or people.”

“Bad experience?”

He looked up and it shocked her to see how closed off his face had become. As if a steel curtain had dropped over his eyes. “You could say that.”

Abby knew the terse tone of voice. He didn’t want to elaborate. Apparently, she was the only one who was required to share.

“Anyway,” she said, “eventually I came to my senses, and one day while he was at work, I took off with three months’ worth of grocery money.” There was more to the story, of course. Much more. Situations like hers didn’t blossom overnight. But she’d said enough to make her point. Hunter wasn’t the only one who could refuse to elaborate. “Never thought I’d be sitting here, though.”

All right, technically standing. She pulled her sweater tighter. The thing had been tugged at so much she was amazed it had any shape left. She was tired. The day’s events were finally catching up with her, pressing down with an unbearable weight.

“Do you still love him?”

“Good Lord, no,” she replied, surprised at how emphatic she sounded. “Those feelings died a long time ago.” Sometimes she couldn’t believe she’d once cared for the man. “Tell you one thing,” she said, toeing the marble floor. “Six years ago I never would have believed I’d end up here.”

“That, sweetheart, makes two of us.”

The courtroom door opened, preventing Abby from commenting. “They’re ready for you, Miss Gray,” the uniformed woman said.

This was it. Abby looked to Hunter, hoping for what, she didn’t know. “Time to get Warren out of my life once and for all,” she said, forcing a determined note into her voice. It wasn’t until she reached the courtroom door that she added under her breath, “I’m just sorry I have to be here.”

Me, too, thought Hunter as he followed her into the courtroom. There were a thousand better ways he could be spending his day.

She was right; he didn’t have to be here. So why was he? Why on earth had he spent two extra hours sitting on hard marble benches and watching some woman he barely knew fill out forms?

Maybe because you’re the reason she’s here in the first place. If he hadn’t thrown the first punch—the only punch—Warren would never have gone wailing to the police. But that camera was Hunter’s baby, dammit! What was he supposed to do? Just let the jerk damage it?

Yeah, because Hunter’s outburst was all about photography equipment, and had nothing to do with seeing Abby fall backward. He could try to sell himself that excuse all day long. Truth was, he hadn’t gone after Warren until she’d lost her balance. Then Hunter had seen red.

What the hell was wrong with him? His job was to capture action on film, not become the action. Yet here he was, playing hero two days in a row. Civilized society be damned.

After dragging all afternoon, the process in front of the judge moved quickly. Hunter had to give Abby credit. It couldn’t be easy answering the same questions over and over. Although he could tell from her posture that she was wound tighter than tight, the only outward sign of stress were the fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sweater. He found himself wanting to snatch them up and hold them still.

It took less than ten minutes for the judge to approve her petition and grant a temporary order. A member of the sheriff’s department would serve Warren that night. Hunter didn’t miss the way Abby’s shoulders relaxed at the announcement.

“Congratulations,” he said when he met her at the door.

“You make it sound like I won the lottery.”

“You got rid of the ex.”

She seemed far from relieved. Surely she didn’t regret the order?

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she snapped, giving him a dirty look when he asked. “It’s just...” She swiped at her bangs. “I feel like an idiot for buying his act.”

“Happens to the best of us.”

She glanced at Hunter sideways. “Meaning it happened to you?”

“Meaning you’re probably not the only one Warren fooled.” The elevator doors opened and they stepped inside, Hunter immediately making his way to the rear. Truth was, he understood what had happened to Abby all too well.

Shoving bad memories back where they belonged, he continued. “If it’s any consolation, I know his type. Faced with a real obstacle, he’ll back off. Fifteen days from now, he’ll have moved on to someone else.”

“In other words, some other woman gets suckered and goes through what I went through. Lucky her.”

Hunter didn’t know how to reply.

They rode down the three floors in silence. It had been a long day. Stealing a look in Abby’s direction, Hunter regretted packing his camera away. She wouldn’t want to hear it, but her appearance at that moment told a real story. With the fluorescent light casting a gray pall on her skin, he could see the cracks in her stoicism. The pronounced circles under her eyes, the subtle slump of her shoulders. Her makeup had worn off hours earlier and her hair... Her hair was an all-out mess. The morning’s haphazard ponytail was now an out-of-control bunch. Most of the strands had fallen loose, and those that hadn’t weren’t far behind. Made him wonder if her insides weren’t in a similar state.

And, strangely enough, wonder if she could use a hug.

When they stepped outside, shadows were crawling up the sides of buildings, engulfing the lower halves of high-rises in shade. Sunset came early this time of year. In a few hours, the streets would be dark. So much for taking any pictures. His flash and lighting equipment were back at the loft.

“What are you going to do now?” he asked Abby. “Head home?”

Asking only reminded him that he knew very little about her life beyond the diner. Did she have a home? She’d said she’d left with only a few months of grocery money. What kind of apartment did that get a person? He was embarrassed to realize he didn’t know.

“Actually, I thought I’d go back to the diner. I need to talk to Guy about my job. If I still have one,” she added in a low voice.

“I’m sure once you explain the situation...”

From the look she shot him, Abby didn’t believe that possibility any more than he did.

“Sure, he’ll understand. Because Guy’s such an understanding person. I bet when he yelled ‘get out and stay out,’ he was only kidding.”

Unfortunately, she was probably right; her job was history. Hunter felt a little bad about that.

A cab pulled to the curb. He beat Abby to the rear door, opening it and motioning for her to climb into the backseat. “We’re going in the same direction. No sense grabbing separate taxis.”

“True.” Despite sounding less than thrilled, she slid across the leather seat, only to stop halfway across. Holy Mother of— Had she been hiding those legs under that ugly skirt all this time? Her uniform had bunched up, revealing a pair of creamy white thighs. “One thing,” she said. “On the off chance I convince Guy to let me keep my job, there’s something I’d like you to do.”

“Sure.” Still blown away from the legs, Hunter was more than glad to let her talk. Especially if it kept the view from disappearing. “Just name it.” He forced himself to look her in the eye.

The gaze that met his was hot and frosty at the same time. “Find somewhere else to eat.”

CHAPTER THREE

“GET OUT.”

Abby looked over her shoulder, hoping Guy was talking to Hunter and not to her. Apparently her request in the cab had fallen on deaf ears, because the photographer had insisted on following her inside after the cab ride home.

Her plan had been simple. Catch Guy before he locked up, apologize and assure him that Warren wouldn’t be back. If necessary, beg and plead a little. Instead, she barely got through the door when he came around to the front of the counter. Dish towel slung over his shoulder, he jabbed the air with his gnarled finger. “Both of you,” he said. “Out.”

Abby almost went. After all, six years of being pliant didn’t disappear overnight. Taking a deep breath, she held her ground. “Can’t we talk about this?”

“There’s nothing to talk about. I told you when I hired you to keep your drama outside, and I meant it. You can’t do that, you’re out of here. There are plenty of waitresses who can do your job and who won’t cause fist fights during my breakfast rush.”

“Abby didn’t cause the fight.”

“Stay out of this,” she snapped to Hunter. His help had caused enough problems.

“Fine.” He raised his hands in mock surrender. “You’re on your own.”

“Thank you.” Too bad he hadn’t backed off so readily this morning.

“Can’t you give me another chance?” she asked, turning her attention back to her boss. Her ex-boss. Hopefully soon to be boss again. “I know this morning was bad.”

Guy waggled his index finger again. “Not only did you cause a fight, you left us shorthanded.”

“I know, and I’m really, really sorry. I promise to make it up to you.”

“Who’s gonna make it up to the customers I lost?”

It was a neighborhood restaurant with regular customers. He hadn’t lost anybody. Telling him he was exaggerating wouldn’t help her cause, though. If she’d learned anything from her years with Warren, it was when to keep her comments to herself. Instead, she moved to the second half of her plan. “Please, Guy. I’m begging you. I really need this job.”

“You should have thought about that before bringing your little love triangle to work.”

Love triangle? That’s what he thought today was about? A love triangle?

“That is definitely not what happened,” she said.

Guy dismissed her with a slap of his towel from one shoulder to another. “Don’t care what it is,” he said. “You’re still gone.” He turned his back.

Gone. As in fired. She couldn’t be. “But Warren won’t be back,” she said, chasing after him. “I went to court. I got a restraining order.”

The kitchen door swung shut in her face. “You still owe me a paycheck!” she hollered through the order window.

“What paycheck? I’m keeping it to cover the damages.”

Damages, her foot. A couple broken dishes wouldn’t take a whole paycheck, even with Guy’s cheap wages.

Could this day get any worse?

“Come back tomorrow after he’s calmed down,” she heard Hunter say.

What good would that do? Guy wasn’t going to change overnight. Why was Hunter still here, anyway? “Don’t you have pictures to take or something?” she asked him. She would have thought he’d be on his way a long time ago.

“Lost all the good light,” he replied.

“Oh, good. Then we’ve both lost something. I feel so much better.” Rude? Yes, but she wasn’t in the mood to be pleasant. Pushing her way past him, she headed to the front door. As if he had all day, Hunter accompanied her.

“You’ll find another job, you know.”

Easy for him to say. He had a job. “Do you have any idea how hard it was to get this one?” Of course he didn’t. “News flash. Jobs don’t grow on trees. Especially when you don’t have skills. Or experience.” Only thing she knew how to do was cook, clean and manage Warren’s tantrums. Hardly stuff to build a résumé on.

“Thanks to today, I can’t even use Guy as a reference.”

Suddenly exhausted, she sank down on the steps of the building next door. Her body felt as if it’d been hit by a truck. Come to think of it, she might be better off if she had been hit by a truck. At least then she’d be in a hospital bed, and Guy might feel bad enough to let her keep her job.

She jammed her fingers through her hair, destroying what was left of her ponytail. “You know what really stinks?” she asked Hunter. “Warren’s the bad guy in all of this and he’s got everything. The apartment, a job, money—”

“A shiny new restraining order.”

“Big whoop. So he can’t come within a hundred yards. You said yourself, he’ll move on before the hearing. Meanwhile, what do I have? No job and nine hundred lousy dollars in the bank. You tell me where that’s fair.”

“I can’t.”

Tears burned the back of her eyes. She blinked them away. Very least she would do was keep her pride. “All I wanted was to get my life back. Is that so freaking wrong?”

“No.”

“I was close, too.” She was. She had a job. She was saving money. Until Mr. Action Hero decided to live up to his looks. Now everything was ruined. “Why’d you have to punch him?”

Hunter sat on the step next to her. “I already told you.”

“I know, I know. He almost broke your fancy-schmancy camera.”

“That fancy-schmancy camera, as you put it, happens to be my life.”

“So was my job!” Abby flung the words back at him. “Bet you didn’t think about that when you decided to get all tough with Warren, did you? Who cares about Abby, right? Not like she matters. She’s just some useless piece of...”

The dam broke and all the frustration that had been building since the morning came roaring free. She was angry. At Hunter. At Warren. Mostly, though, at herself for letting herself be held down for six long years and ending up here in the first place. With hot tears threatening to blind her yet again, she lashed out at the first thing she could reach, which happened to be Hunter’s chest. “Damn you,” she said, slapping at his jacket. “Damn you, damn you, damn you.”

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