Page 7 of Shades of You

To distract my nervous hands, I moved to an antique oak table and rearranged the display of candles I’d set up. These were lavender and vanilla and gave off a pleasant, bookish scent I loved. The chime of the door pulled me from my thoughts. And once again, I got a shock when I glanced up.

Knox stepped in, stumbling slightly over the entry. His light hair was mussed and stuck up on one side. He reeked of alcohol and desperation, and my heart plummeted.

“Knox.” My voice held an uneven mix of surprise and discomfort. “What are you?—”

“Brenna.” My name on his tongue was clumsy and thick. His hazel eyes locked onto mine with unsettling intensity. Knox had always been unpredictable when he drank.

“You need to leave,” I insisted, trying to muster authority into my voice. “Now.”

“Come on.” He moved closer, reaching out as if he could bridge the chasm between us with his unsteady fingers. “You don’t mean that. We were good together. We can be again.”

“Absolutely not,” I countered sharply, my stomach clenching. This was not the reunion any girl dreamed of. “We’re through. You need to go.”

But he was undeterred, stepping forward to grab my arm, making me wince at his touch. What I had once craved now felt like an invasion. “We’re worth another shot, Brenna. We can work out our problems.”

“Get out of here,” I hissed, shaking off his grasp as my heart galloped in my chest.

That’s when Knox vanished from my sight in an abrupt blur of motion. He was in front of me and thengone. My breath caught in my throat as I turned my head. Hunter had him hoisted in the air, pressing him against the end of a bookcase with an ease that defied belief. One of Hunter’s hands was bunched in the fabric of Knox’s shirt collar, and the other held him by the waistband of his jeans like he weighed nothing.

“The lady told you to leave.” Hunter’s voice was low and menacing, a stark contrast to the gentle cadence he’d used just minutes earlier. “What part of that don’t you get? Maybe I can clear it up for you.” He twisted the hand holding Knox’s pants slightly, and my ex’s face went pale.

“Okay! I’m leaving. I’m leaving!” Knox’s voice broke into a higher pitch at Hunter’s motion, sounding almost comical if the situation weren’t so frightening.

Hunter released him abruptly, both hands letting go. Knox crumpled down to the floor, then regained his footing with a stumble. His eyes were wide, darting between Hunter and me, but it was clear where the power lay.

“Out. Now.” Hunter’s tone left no room for argument.

Knox jerked a nod as he scrambled backward, staring at Hunter with wide eyes the entire time. The shop was completely silent as he slunk out of the store without another word. The bell above the door chimed mockingly as he exited, and I jumped at the jarring noise. I took a steadying breath, suddenly aware of the sweat coveringmy back. I turned to look at Hunter, who remained still, his gaze following Knox until he was certain my ex was gone.

Then, without moving, he slid his eyes to me. “Are you all right?” His voice returned to something softer, though the underlying strength was unmistakable. He didn’t look remotely upset, like throwing unruly drunks out of stores was something he did every day.

“Yes,” I managed to say, my voice somewhat creaky. I cleared my throat. “Thank you.” I couldn’t control the tremor in my hands—a reaction to the fear, the shock, and the confusing sense of safety Hunter’s actions had provided.

“I take it that guy isn’t a friend?”

I shook my head, taking a few steps closer to Hunter. “No, definitely not a friend. Just an ex who doesn’t understand boundaries.” The familiar pang of regret washed over me as I spoke those words. At how Knox had been charming at first, hiding the person he became when drinking.

Hunter’s gaze lingered on me. “You deserve better than that. Has he been a problem before?”

I shrugged, feeling a weird mix of vulnerability and relief at Hunter’s presence. “He’s texted a couple of times, but nothing like this. I thought we were done for good, but he seems to be having a hard time letting go.”

Hunter nodded, his expression serious. “Do you want my number?” My shock must have shown on my face because his posture relaxed. “I’m in private security, Brenna. Dealing with shit like him is what I do for a living.”

Something in his tone sent a shiver down my spine. And I was sure Knox had gotten his message loud and clear. “No—I’m fine. I’m sure we just saw the last of him. Thank you for your help.”

“Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked again, steppingcloser to me. His gaze traced over my face as if searching for any signs of distress I might be hiding.

“Yes.” I clasped my trembling hands together to steady them, and tried not to notice how his huge presence that should have filled me with alarm—especially given what I’d just witnessed—was doing quite the opposite. “I’m fine now.”

Hunter’s eyes lingered on me before he finally nodded once, as if confirming something to himself. “Good,” he said simply and headed back toward the stacks of books as if nothing had happened.

As if he hadn’t just manhandled my drunken ex with the same ease as flipping through the pages of one of my cherished books. What had life done to him? I returned to the glass check-out counter, mindlessly straightening a stand of watercolor bookmarks.

Moments later, Hunter returned, a Clive Cussler novel in hand, its spine cracked with use. “I’ll take this one,” he said with a faint smile. His voice was back to what it had been before Knox’s rude entrance. “How much?”

“Oh, no charge,” I insisted, pushing his extended cash back toward him. “After what you did, it’s yours.”

The shadow that passed over his features was like a storm cloud over the sun. “I can’t ignore someone in trouble. Especially… someone who means something to me. It’s what I do.”

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