That’s what she was afraid of, Abby thought, rubbing her wrist. The marks had blossomed to full-blown bruises. Annoyance and shame rose in her throat. She was mad. Mad at Warren. Mad at her mother.
Most of all she was mad with herself for believing that living with him was the best she could ever do in life. For letting him take over her entire world, until she’d lost control and herself.
Well, no more. She’d rather be alone for the rest of her life than lose herself in a relationship again.
Why her mind drifted to Hunter at that moment, she didn’t know. Correction. Hunter Smith. She’d read the name off his credit card. Now that she thought about it, she was mad with him, too.
A new emotion joined the others already warring inside her: embarrassment. She’d worked long and hard to escape Warren’s clutches and start her new life. Last thing she needed was her action-hero customer thinking he knew her secrets. Or worse, sending her pitying looks with those steel-colored eyes of his.
It’d be too much to ask that he leave town by morning, wouldn’t it?
Knowing her luck, he’d be back at his table tomorrow, with that field coat and those big broad shoulders. Checking the bruises on her wrist.
She’d rather face down her ex.
* * *
“Eggs over easy, wheat toast, side of bacon.”
Abby held her order pad in front of her face like a shield. If she didn’t look at Hunter’s face, she wouldn’t have to see his expression. Bad enough that the mere thought of facing him gave her stress dreams.
Given everything that had happened yesterday, she’d think Warren would be the one haunting her subconscious. But when she closed her eyes, it was Hunter who invaded her thoughts.
She knew why he was on her mind. It was because he knew her dirty little secret. For so long, keeping secrets was how she’d lived her life. Her mistakes—and man, did she make some whoppers—were hers to hide. To think that now someone else knew—saw—the evidence... Part of her wanted to crawl into a hole. Another part wanted to tell Hunter to take his sympathy and shove it. She settled for focusing on the two-by-three square in front of her face.
“You going to write the order down?” Hunter asked.
“Not necessary.”
There was a long, drawn-out pause. “You sure?”
Against her better judgment, Abby lowered the pad to stare at him. “You don’t think I can remember?”
“Did I say that?”
His silence said so for him. Granted, she’d forgotten a few orders in the beginning, but she’d improved a lot since then. “You’ve ordered the same thing for twelve days,” she told him.
“Nice to know I’m so memorable.”
More like predictable, she wanted to say. Though that wouldn’t be quite true. She certainly hadn’t predicted his behavior yesterday. “I’ll go get your coffee.”
“How’s your wrist?”
Exactly the topic she hoped to avoid. “Fine,” she replied in a stiff voice. Her fingers twitched with the urge to tug on her cardigan, to hide the gauze bandage peering out from beneath the cuff. The bruises were darker this morning. Dark enough that simply wearing long sleeves wouldn’t be enough to hide them, so she’d covered them with a bandage. Her plan was to tell anyone who asked that she burned herself. Didn’t it figure, the first person to say anything would be the one man she didn’t want to hear from?
“I’ll be back with your coffee,” she said, turning on her heel.
Damned if she couldn’t feel him watching her walk back to the counter. Awareness washed over her, making her insides quiver. She wasn’t used to being looked at under any circumstances. In fact, Warren was the first man who’d ever paid her any kind of attention. Look how terrific that had turned out. Naturally, having a man as handsome as Hunter scrutinizing her set Abby’s nerves on edge. Doubly so since she knew his scrutiny wasn’t anything more than sympathetic curiosity. It made her feel like some wounded animal in the zoo. Out of the corner of her eye she caught her reflection in the stainless steel. Limp, uncooperative hair; pale skin. Yeah, like she’d attract attention. It scared her to think Warren was right. That he was the best she could do.
Good thing she didn’t mind being alone.
Tugging her cuff down to her knuckles, she made her way back to Hunter’s table.
“You’re going to pull that sleeve out of shape,” he remarked.
So what? It was her sweater. If she wanted to stretch it out, she would. “Do you need cream?”
“Don’t tell me you forgot already?”
“Sorry. Guess you’re not so memorable, after all.” She reached into her apron pocket and removed the plastic creamer pods she’d grabbed when getting his coffee. The motion caused her sleeve to pull upward. Whether Hunter looked at the exposed bandage or not didn’t matter; she felt he was and that was enough.
“I know what you’re thinking,” she said suddenly.
“You do?”
“Yeah.” He thought he knew her story based on one short encounter. “You’re wrong, though. I’m not.”
“Not what?”
“Not...” She raised her bandaged arm. “Not anymore. I left Warren.”
“Oh.”
That was it? Oh? Abby watched him as he blew across the top of his cup, his lips pursing ever so slightly. It was the only change in his expression.
“Doesn’t seem to be taking the breakup too well,” he said finally.
“He’ll adjust. Yesterday was...” No need getting into a long, drawn-out explanation. “Look, I’m only explaining because you—”
“Saw the bruises?”
“Say it a little louder, why don’t you? They didn’t hear you downtown.” Swiping at her bangs, Abby looked around at the other tables. Fortunately, no one had heard, or if they did, had decided not to share.
“I wanted to make sure you understood the deal. Because of yesterday. Not that I don’t appreciate what you did and all.”
“You’re welcome.”
Abby pursed her lips. “Point is, your help wasn’t necessary. I have the situation under control.”
“I could tell.”
“Seriously, I do.” She didn’t like how his response sounded mocking. It made her even more defensive. Maybe she hadn’t had control at that exact moment, but she would have handled the situation. “So you won’t need to repeat the performance.”
“In other words, mind my own business.”
Exactly. “I’m saying it’s not necessary.”
Hunter nodded into the rim of his cup. “Good to know. I’m not really into rescues to begin with.”
“You’re not?” Could have fooled her.
“Nah. Like you said, it’s not my business.”
“Then why...?”
“Did I step in yesterday?” He shrugged. “What can I say? My mother was a Southerner and raised me to be a gentleman.”
So he was protecting her honor? Abby’s stomach fluttered. “Well, you can tell your mother the lesson sank in.”
“I would, but she’s dead.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
He shrugged