“Is it now?” Shooting him a dubious look, she wiped her hands on her apron and picked up the photo.
“Wow,” she said after a minute.
Exactly his reaction when he’d finished the digital enhancement. Hunter didn’t usually care about compliments; he had enough confidence in his skills that other opinions didn’t affect him. But hearing Abby’s whispered surprise, and seeing the look of genuine wonder that accompanied it, set off an eruption of heated satisfaction.
“I look...” As she paused to find the word, she worried her upper lip between her teeth. It was such an expressive gesture, Hunter had to fight the urge to grab his camera and snap away.
At last she set the photo down. “Tired,” she said. “I look tired.”
“Yeah, you do.” No sense lying when there were such pronounced circles under her eyes. “But I think you’re missing the point.” The weariness was part of what made her—that is, her picture—so captivating. “The photo is telling the story.”
“What? Woman works hard for the money? Donna Summer already covered it.”
“Very funny.”
“I’m here all week.” Her mood sobered as she brushed her fingertips along the glossy paper. “Sadly, this might be the best picture I’ve ever had taken.”
“Not surprising. It’s probably the first time you were shot by a quality photographer.”
She laughed. A short, sweet laugh that turned her features bright. To Hunter’s surprise, seeing her face light up sent the heat in his gut six inches lower. “Wish I’d known. Might have saved me from years of awful holiday photos. Warren said I looked like a deer about to be plowed into.”
“Were you?” Hunter asked. “About to be run over?”
Brown eyes raised to look at him. “I thought you said the problem was the photographer.”
“Photographers also capture reality.”
“Doesn’t that just support my argument about looking terrible?”
“Only if you’re terrible-looking to begin with.”
“Generally speaking, of course.” Pink colored her cheeks and she looked at the floor. It made him wonder how often she heard compliments. Considering her d-bag of an ex-boyfriend, it likely wasn’t often.
Hunter handed her the photograph. “Here.”
“You’re giving it to me?”
“Why not? It’s a picture of you.”
“Yeah, but...” Whatever she was going to say drifted off as her hand brushed against his. Hunter watched as her eyes widened at the contact. Fear of another man’s touch? Her pupils were wide and dark, turning her irises into thin, brown frames.
For some reason, he found himself wanting to extend the contact, and so he dragged his index finger slowly across the back of her hand as he withdrew. Beneath his touch, he felt her skin quiver.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“You’re welcome.”
“So this is how you take care of your customers.”
Warren. Abby yanked her hand away, sending the picture fluttering to the ground. Before either she or Hunter could move, her ex-boyfriend leaned over and picked it up. Abby tried to snatch it from his grip, but he held tight. “Nice picture. You look...good.”
Abby couldn’t answer. Her insides were too tense. Across the way, she could see Guy watching them. Please don’t let there be trouble. “I thought I told you yesterday that I didn’t want to see you.”
“That was yesterday. I figured now that you had time to sleep on things, you’d changed your mind. Course, that was before I realized why you didn’t want me around.”
Warren’s eyes were hard and glittered like diamonds. Abby knew the look well. His calm demeanor was an act, a respite before the storm.
Hadn’t she told Hunter she had the situation under control? She squared her shoulders. “Warren, you need to leave.”
“Not until we talk. You changed your phone number.”
“That should have been a clue that I don’t want to talk with you.”
“Come on, babe, stop being stubborn. I know I messed up, but that’s no reason to run away. Let’s get out of here and talk. You’ll see how sorry I am, and you’ll change your mind.”
No way. “I’m not going anywhere with you,” she told him.
“There you go, being stubborn again.”
He moved to grab her hand. Abby jerked out of his grasp. “Oh, sure, I can’t touch you, but you got no problem letting him paw you,” he snarled.
“She said she didn’t want to talk with you.”
Great. Until then, Hunter had been quiet. 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.
