wrench in the works . . . the one thing that wasn’t entirely clear was just what Abby wanted, but Zane had seen how Abby looked at Zach. There was something there. What he needed to do was just keep clear of it. What Keelie should do was just steer clear of it, too.
Let Abby and Zach untangle it and work things out.
It wasn’t a bad plan.
They could untangle it and he’d stand there and drink his coffee and study the mountains.
Except the doorbell rang. He ignored it. He wasn’t expecting anybody for a shoot and if it was a delivery, they could leave it on the porch. He had a nice brood going so he’d just stay right where he was and—
It rang again. Again. Again. Like somebody was leaning on it.
“Son of a bitch.” Slamming the coffee down on a table by the window, he pulled off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes as he stormed down the hallway. It was cluttered with his camera equipment, boxes that he kept meaning to tear down and other stuff he meant to deal with and never got around to.
What did it matter, anyway?
He was a bachelor at thirty-five and considering the fact that the one woman he’d found himself interested in recently had just tried to put the moves on his little brother, it didn’t look like things were going to change anytime soon.
As the doorbell rang again, he shouted, “This better be damn fucking im . . .”
He jerked open the door and the words died as he saw Abby standing there.
She glared at him, her chin angled up like she was spoiling for a fight.
And knowing Abigale Applegate, she probably was.
“Ah . . . hey, Abby.”
She drilled a finger into his chest. “Don’t you hey, Abby me.”
“Um.” He blinked and rubbed a hand over his chest. Was she trying to poke a hole in him? “Okay. What would you rather me say? Get the hell out? Demand a toll? Or should I call Zach and tell him you got lost on the way to Grandma’s house?”
“Ha, ha. And I wonder why you’re a photographer. Maybe you should write instead of Trey.” She folded her arms over her chest and glared at him. “I need to talk to you. Can I come in or not?”
He stepped aside and as she passed by, he scraped his nails over his jaw and tried to figure out just how in the hell he’d gotten pulled into Zach’s mess. Because that’s what was happening.
Hadn’t he just decided it was better off for him to not be involved in this?
Hell.
* * *
The one text from Zane had come after midnight.
Abby is fine. She’ll come home when she’s not ready to spit nails. But she’s okay.
That wasn’t reassuring, but at least Zach knew she was okay.
He also knew—thanks to his mad skills of observation—that she wasn’t home.
He prowled through the house, looking for some clue as to where she was, but said clue didn’t seem to exist. She hadn’t come home since last night. He knew that because he fiddled around with her alarm system and saw that it hadn’t been disarmed since she’d left yesterday.
That wasn’t exactly reassuring.
Where was she?
Why hadn’t she come home?
Why wouldn’t she talk to him?
Slumping on the bottom step of the staircase, he braced his elbows on his knees and glared at the door.
And another question . . . would she forgive him?
“This isn’t helping.”
Shoving away from the staircase, he headed for the door. Brooding and prowling around her house wasn’t going to make the situation any better, either, so he needed to get the hell out.
The only thing, really, for him to do was head on in to work.
His lip curled at the very thought of it.
Seriously, facing Keelie was just going to put the cherry on top of a couple of lousy days.
* * *
Keelie knew she’d seen him looking more tired, but she wasn’t sure when.
Her gut was already in a tangle but when he came inside and stopped when he saw her, all those tight little knots jerked even tighter and she thought she just might be sick.
A muscle jerked in his jaw as she stared at him but he didn’t so much as acknowledge her. The ache that had taken up permanent residence in her heart expanded until she thought she just might choke on it.
What did I do? she thought miserably.
As he stalked past her, she thought about just retreating to her little