Jagged

Chapter Eleven

Worthy of You

I watched as the coffee mug smash against the wall, coffee splashing everywhere.

Then I ran straight to the door of the kitchen.

I didn’t get there.

An arm caught me at my belly, my breath went out of me in a whoosh, and I found myself going backward.

Ham pinned me against the counter, his front tight to mine, his hands on the counter on either side of me, his head tipped deep to me, his face full of pain.

For me.

“Calm down, baby,” he whispered.

“My sister’s dead,” I whispered back.

“Stick with me, cookie.”

“My sister’s dead,” I repeated.

“Zara. Honey. Stick with me.”

“My sister’s dead!” I shrieked, watched him wince, and dissolved into body-wracking, throat-burning, uncontrollable tears.

Ham’s arms closed around me.

My legs gave out. I slid down his front and fell to the floor.

Ham came with me, shifting to his ass. His legs spread and cocked at the knees, he pulled me between them, my chest against his. He wrapped one of his arms around me tight. His other hand was in my hair, forcing my face into his neck.

I wrapped both of my arms around him, held strong, and sobbed.

I’d known this day would come. In the beginning I waited, hoping it would come. Last night I understood deep down that it actually had come.

Even so, I was totally unprepared for it.

Ham held me close for a long time and when my tears went from wild and uncontrolled to the kind that settled in for a long time, quieter and punctuated by hiccoughs, he moved. Getting to his feet and taking me with him, he lifted me cradled in his arms and carried me to the living room.

He sat on the couch and then stretched out, arranging me on top of him, all the while holding me close.

We settled silently and I focused on something else and that something else didn’t make the tears go away.

“My nephew really lives with my aunt Wilona?” I asked.

“It’s true, darlin’.”

“My aunt is a bitch,” I told him.

Ham had no response.

“He’s been there for nine years.”

Again no response from Ham.

“My dad’s such a dick,” I shared.

That got a response.

“That he is, cookie.”

I pulled in a deep breath through my nose and on the exhale relaxed into him.

“I don’t believe this,” I whispered.

“I don’t either, baby,” Ham whispered back.

I put a hand in the couch at the back, lifted up, and used my other hand to swipe at my face as I looked down at him.

There was pain in his face still. Pain for me. But it was now mingled with sorrow.

Sorrow for me.

If I didn’t already love this man, looking at his handsome face showing plain all the feelings he was feeling for me, I would have fallen in love.

But I loved this man. It was just that, right then, I loved him more.

“His name is Zander?” I asked.

“That’s what Mick says,” he answered.

My eyes drifted to the armrest his head was lying on and I remarked, “Dad named him. That’s for sure. He got that shit from Grandpa Val. Crazy-ass names.”

“Zara’s the most beautiful name I ever heard,” Ham stated and my eyes flew to him as my chest expanded. “He’s a dick but he named you sweet, baby. And, you find a way not to give him credit, Zander is pretty kick-ass, too.”

Right then, I loved Ham even more.

So much I couldn’t express it and I couldn’t cope with it, so I dropped my head so my forehead was resting on his chest.

“Now that you got your shit tight, cookie, I’ll tell you the rest,” Ham said.

“Oh God,” I moaned into his chest.

He slid his hand to curl around the back of my neck. “This is the good part, darlin’.”

I lifted up to look at him. “There’s a good part?”

“Yeah. When I was in town, after I learned this shit, got pissed, had to walk it off. I saw Nina’s offices, paid her a visit, and she made time for me.”

I was confused. What did Nina have to do with anything?

“I don’t get it,” I told him.

Ham gave it to me.

“Hired her to start custody proceedings to get Zander.”

My heart lurched before it swelled, hope pushing out anguish.

Back then, I’d wanted my sister’s baby. With my sister all but gone, I wanted a piece of her, especially a precious piece that she’d made. We’d had it tough, we’d stuck together through it, and after we escaped, but when we got older, she fell apart. Drugs. Booze. Meaningless hookups. She went off the rails and did it with flair.

That didn’t mean I didn’t always love her.

Xenia returned the favor.

She pulled herself together, though that didn’t mean she still didn’t fuck up. With my help, we got her into a program. She said sayonara to the drugs and booze but unfortunately kept up with the meaningless hookups and got herself knocked up.

When she’d learned she was pregnant and decided to keep the baby, we’d both been cautiously excited, considering our history—especially hers. I was looking forward to having a nephew. I was looking forward to helping Xenia right past wrongs.

Then it all went to shit.

If I’d had the money, the stability, the maturity, and the strength to fight my dad back then, I would have taken Xenia’s baby on. I didn’t fool myself it wouldn’t be tough but I wanted that piece of my sister and I wanted her, wherever she was, to know I was taking care of her boy.

But I also knew that couples without the ability to have babies could give him a life maybe better than the one I could give him. I also knew my dad would see me a quivering mess and beaten so low I couldn’t stand before he gave up. And last, I feared that even if I won him, Dad would find ways to fuck with me, and the baby. I also knew the ways my father could fuck with someone, and none of them were pleasant.

So I hated it but I let him be put up for adoption.

To get him safe, in a good, stable home with good people who would love him, I struck the deal.

Now I had my second chance.

Then my heart plummeted because I might have maturity but the money and stability were in even more of a shambles than they’d been back then.

This wouldn’t work.

“Nina’s my friend and I know she’d do a lot for me, Ham,” I started. “But I really do not have the resources to go after custody and there’s no way I could take that kind of freebie from Nina. She didn’t even handle my divorce, since she insisted on giving me a huge discount. You know me, I couldn’t accept that. So Greg and I used her partner, George. Since I wanted the divorce, I intended to pay, but in the end, Greg insisted on paying for all that. He wouldn’t stand down and I was seriously struggling so I let him. Nina didn’t say anything but I unintentionally screwed her with losing a client, which isn’t cool.”

“Zara—”

“And you know Dad. He’d fight it. Tooth and nail. I have no idea how he paid for the care Xenia received for nine years, since she had no insurance. He isn’t loaded even though they’re comfortable, or they were, and that had to cost a whack. But obviously he did it and he’ll throw everything at me to make sure I don’t get Xenia’s son.”

“Honey—”

“And I’m not sure how a judge will feel, with my credit history, me workin’ at a bar. Nothin’s changed since back then except, if anything, it’s worse. I’m a divorcée and I wasn’t even married but a couple of years. I lost a business. I had a house foreclosed on. I’m doin’ better but Dad will throw all that at me. It’ll get ugly and go on forever. And if I make the decision to drag a child through something like that, well… I might be able to start it but I gotta be able to see it through.”

Ham shifted his hand to the side of my neck, his fingers tensed, and he ordered gently, “Zara, quiet for a second and listen to me.”

“Okay,” I agreed.

“I got a little money—”

I was quiet only for the second he asked when I interrupted with, “Ham—”

His fingers tensing deeper into my neck interrupted me.

“Baby, listen.”

I shut my mouth and nodded.

Ham waited a beat to make sure I kept my mouth shut before he continued.

“It isn’t much, the money I got, but I got it. Nina knows this. She’s gonna let us pay in installments. That said, I make a good salary. Brutal hours, lots of shit to deal with, they learned with management turnover high for the last decade, they get a good one in, they keep him by payin’ him. We got low overhead, livin’ together. It may make things tight for a while but it isn’t gonna break us and it’ll be worth it.”

When he stopped and I knew he was done, I ventured, “Yes, Ham, but you were a rolling stone. I just got out of making a mess of my life. A judge will—”

“A judge will hear that your father beat you, your sister, and your mom and take that into account. Hospital reports on your sister will bear to the truth that she appeared battered upon admission and I know she got hit by a car, babe, but they know the difference between kinds of bruises and when a body gets ’em. There were some that weren’t fresh. Your testimony, baby, seein’ as she called you that day, you went over there, and she shared your dad paid a visit, and you know from history and experience he’s not above that, makes a former rolling stone who’s got a steady job and a good income and a woman who got caught in the bite of a bad recession that lots of folks got caught in not so bad. My guess, if we can convince a judge of that, no fuckin’ way he’d allow decisions about where Zander was or wasn’t to be made by your father.”

This made me feel better.

What did not make me feel better was the fact that we were talking about gaining custody of a boy neither of us knew, raising him, and Ham and I had been an official couple for approximately thirty hours.

He hadn’t told me all his history. We hadn’t worked through that. We hadn’t worked through anything.

We began the day before.

We were nowhere near solid.

“I can’t ask you to do this. We’re just starting out and—”

“Babe,” he cut me off, “you got a bad marriage under your belt. I got one, too. We’re screwed if we didn’t learn from that shit but I’ll tell you somethin’, I did. I lived decades not formin’ ties with the women in my life because I didn’t wanna get bit again by a bad one. I also know a good woman when I find one and I found a good one. I hope to Christ you feel the same way about me, cookie. And if you do, we got that. We intend to take this through the long haul, we commit to thick and thin. I’d have liked it to be thick for more than a fuckin’ day before we got thin. But I don’t step up for you now, then you should step through that door because that would make me a man who wasn’t worthy of you.”

Now I loved him even more.

So much more, I was going to cry again.

Therefore, as tears pooled in my eyes, I announced, “I’m gonna cry again.”

“Sock it to me, darlin’. You cry happy tears ’cause I just told you I think you’re the shit and I got your back, I’ll take ’em.”

Luckily, what he said made me smile, not cry.

It also made me slide up his chest and put my mouth to his.

This made Ham slide his hand into my hair and hold me to him as his mouth opened under mine, mine opened over his, and our kiss became a wet, sweet, amazing kiss.

Unfortunately, while it was moving from sweet to hot, the doorbell rang.

“Fuck,” Ham muttered against my mouth.

“Yeah,” I muttered against his.

Ham shifted his head, kissed my neck, then rolled me to the back of the couch so he could roll off of it.

I pushed up to sitting cross-legged in the couch, pulling my stretchy nightgown over my knees as I watched him move to the front door, look to the peephole. His jaw got tight, his eyes went over his shoulder to me then he turned and opened the door.

Mick Shaughnessy was standing there.

I didn’t know if this was good or bad, considering, ten minutes after I got up, with teeth brushed, face washed, and pouring coffee, Ham told me he paid Mick a visit in town because he was also concerned about my aunt’s performance last night and then I got the bad news.

“Mick, surprised,” Ham said as greeting.

“Reece, my apologies but I got some information for Zara that I’m thinkin’ she’ll wanna know. I looked you up, found out where you lived, and came by so I could give it to her.”

This indicated to me that Mick’s visit was not good.

Ham looked at me, did a quick assessment of my emotional stability with his eyes, then stepped aside, murmuring, “As you can see from her face, I told her.”

“Mm-hmm,” Mick murmured back as he walked in and stopped across the room from me. With his eyes on me, I noted they were also sad.

For me.

Mick Shaughnessy was a good man, always was.

“Sorry for your loss, Zara,” he said.

“Lost her a long time ago, Mick.”

“I know, girl. Doesn’t mean this doesn’t bring it fresh,” Mick replied.

My lip started quivering. I caught it between my teeth and nodded.

“You had somethin’ to say?” Ham prompted. He’d closed the door and was standing a few feet to Mick’s side, arms crossed on his chest.

“Asked some questions,” Mick told Ham, and then his eyes moved to me. “Got some answers. Didn’t muck about gettin’ to you, seein’ as time is of the essence but, there’s a graveside ceremony for your sister today at Gnaw Bone Memorial Cemetery, Zara. Three o’clock. No service at a mortuary and, since no one knows about this, figure the graveside services are closed. But I reckon—”

He got no further.

Even still in my nightgown, I planted a hand in the back of the couch, tossed my legs over it, and called, “Thanks Mick!” behind me as I raced down the hall to Ham’s bedroom.

“It would probably be a good thing, if Dad’s a dick, that you didn’t punch him or something,” I noted in the truck as I wrung my hands in my lap and Ham drove us to the cemetery.

Ham was wearing a dark-gray suit, deep-blue shirt, and even a nice black tie patterned in muted blues, greens, and grays.

I’d never seen Ham in a suit and he rocked it.

I was wearing the slim-fitting black dress I’d worn to my friend Kim’s funeral years ago. Its lines were classic so luckily I didn’t look like an out-of-style goofball. Also luckily, I didn’t throw it away one of the million times I saw it in my closet, remembered Kim, her diagnosis of cancer, her very brief three-month fight with it, which mostly consisted of making her comfortable through it, and her funeral.

But I vowed to toss it in the trash after I took it off when we got home.

“Other way to look at that is, it would probably be a good thing for your dad not to be a dick so I won’t punch him or something,” Ham returned and I looked to him.

“Babe, we have to be cool. We can’t get in graveside brawls right before suing for custody.”

Ham glanced at me before looking back at the road. “Cookie, honestly, you think I’m gonna get in a bust-up with your dad at your sister’s funeral?”

“You’re unpredictable, lately,” I shared.

That got me another glance, this one surprised, before he asked, “How’s that?”

“Committed. Possessive. Forthcoming. You were always awesome but you’re exponentially awesome… er,” I explained.

I caught his grin before he asked, “I’m awesome… er?”

“Exponentially awesomer,” I corrected.

That was when I got a chuckle and Ham’s hand snaked out to grab mine and take firm hold.

“I’ll be cool, Zara. Wouldn’t do anything to fuck things up. Yeah?” he said quietly.

“Yeah,” I replied, squeezing his hand.

He returned the squeeze and kept hold of my hand.

“You gonna be able to do this?” he asked.

I knew what he was asking and it wasn’t about being graveside at my sister’s funeral.

It was about seeing my mom and dad again.

“I’ll likely require intravenous vodka after this is over but, yeah. For Xenia, I’ll do this,” I answered.

“Now that, baby, that’s awesome,” he replied, his deep approval unhidden.

I let the warmth of that move through me before I looked forward and began efforts to steel myself against seeing my father, my mother, and whoever else they deigned to invite. They didn’t have a lot of friends but the ones they chose were nearly as awful as they were.

Therefore, I didn’t figure we’d be in good company.

This sucked.

Not for me, for Xenia. My sister liked a good party. She was always social. Everyone liked her and she liked everyone except my dad, mom, aunts, and their friends. Therefore, during her last hurrah, those being the only attendees at this particular party was unfortunate.

Luckily, Mick got to us in the nick of time and she’d have at least one person she gave a crap about there.

I was closing in on having it all together when the wrought-iron arch of Gnaw Bone Memorial Cemetery came into view. My body went into hyperdrive trying not to fall apart.

As sick as this sounded, Gnaw Bone Memorial Cemetery was pretty cool. When we were in high school, my friends and I, including Xenia, used to go out there and hang out all the time. On the side of a mountain, its views sweeping, and nothing around it, so its feel was serene. It was also the resting spot for folks who lived in our town before it was our town.

Old gravestones and unusual, old-fashioned names gave credence to local lore that said that Wild West gunslingers were buried here—along with whores, gamblers, and prospectors. Suddenly, I saw myself going to Carnal Library and talking to Faye Goodknight. I bet there were local history books at the library. And I bet if I read those history books, I could tell my nephew all about the history of the town where his mother was born and where he was, hopefully, going to grow up.

That thought cinched my armor together, snug, no chinks, no way to get through no matter how much of a dick my dad could be.

Ready for this.

Not surprisingly, we were not met with faces wreathed with welcoming smiles as Ham and I parked.

I ignored this as I gathered up the flowers Ham called in while I was getting ready and we swung by the flower shop to pick up. We got out of the cab and made our way toward the graveside complete with elevated casket covered in an ostentatious spray of yellow roses that pissed me off because Xenia hated yellow.

As Ham and I made our way toward the casket, I noted, if the look on his face was anything to go by, Dad was very not cool with my appearance at the cemetery. And if he thought he could get away with it, I figured he’d launch himself at me, grab my arm, haul me back to Ham’s truck, and forcibly shove me inside. Luckily, Ham was a bruiser and the pastor was there so Dad remained where he was and instead shot daggers at us from his eyes.

I avoided faces and concentrated on the not-so-easy trek through the grass in my spike-heeled pumps. I did this partly because I didn’t like these people but mostly because I didn’t want to lock eyes with my mom.

Dad, I hated.

Mom, any thought of her hurt me.

He was just a dick.

Mom, I didn’t get.

It wasn’t like, back in the day, I expected heroics, like her jumping in front of Xenia or me (mostly Xenia) and taking our beating. Dad was a big guy and Mom was an inch shorter than me and I wasn’t exactly tall. I could see why she wouldn’t do that because he’d just lose his mind, beat her down, and then haul off and wail on us anyway.

But I didn’t understand why she didn’t do something.

She had two sisters, too, and they were actually nice. Sure, they’d both moved out of state and stayed there but it wasn’t like Mom didn’t know how to drive a car or dial a phone.

Even if she felt their distance didn’t make them an option, I couldn’t fathom why she didn’t go to Mick. As cops go, he was pretty approachable and even back then, when he wasn’t head honcho, he was serious about his job and protecting the citizenry of Gnaw Bone. Everyone knew it.

Which took me to Gnaw Bone. I didn’t have any experience of other places but back when Xenia did what she did and again very recently, they kicked in for me. They were just that way. If they had to do it on the hush-hush, they would. Or if they had to go all in, they’d do that, too. Hell, when Nina got kidnapped, she’d only been in town for over a week, most people didn’t know who the hell she was, the ones who did didn’t know her all that well, and everyone went out looking for her, even me.

I could understand that Dad cowed my mother. He wasn’t just a big guy; he was a scary guy. And I didn’t have any experience being a mother so who was I to say.

I just thought any mother would risk something for her daughters.

Not stand at the graveside of one dead one and watch your other one that you haven’t seen or spoken to in nine years (and didn’t try) walk up without even calling hello.

“Zara, lovely to see you here,” Pastor Williams said meaningfully when we stopped next to the casket and my eyes went to him to give him a grateful smile. “Young man, welcome,” he greeted Ham.

Ham lifted his chin.

“If you don’t mind, pastor, we’d like to get this started. We’re already unfathomably ten minutes late,” my father cut in.

“Certainly, Xavier,” Pastor Williams murmured, looking down to his Bible.

I did a scan that was far from thorough and saw, first, my mother’s sisters weren’t there, and second, only about six other people were, which meant the ones my father were expecting had likely been there awhile.

That was when I knew the source of Mick’s information, considering Pastor Williams had delayed to wait for our arrival.

Therefore, if he wasn’t a man of the cloth, older than my dad, and I didn’t have my man at my side who I’d been waiting to be my man for years, once this crap was done, I’d kiss the pastor hard.

The service was short but sweet, seeing as Pastor Williams was a great guy, he knew Xenia, and he made it that way.

At the end, as he prayed, we all watched Xenia lowered into the ground, but even as my throat burned, I held it together.

“I’m sure Xenia would thank you all for coming,” Pastor Williams started and I felt Ham’s lips at my ear where he muttered, “I’m not.”

I successfully stifled a half-nervous, half-amused giggle as Pastor Williams went on. “As do I, Xenia’s parents, Xavier and Amy, and Xenia’s sister, Zara. God be with Xenia and God be with all of you.”

When he was done, I thought it safe to approach the opened earth and look down at those beautiful but inappropriate roses.

Then I tossed mine on.

Blood red. Her favorites.

Red. Means love, baby, she’d said to me once, a twinkle in her eye, still young enough to have hope for the future.

“I miss you,” I whispered to the flowers. “I thank God you’re finally at peace but I miss you, Xeens. Every freaking day.”

I felt a hand slide up my back and curl around my neck, warm and reassuring as I stood still, stared at those flowers, and said one last good-bye to my sister.

Then I felt warmth at my back and lips at my ear where Ham murmured, “You ready, cookie?”

“Just a second, darlin’,” I murmured back. The warmth at my back left but the hand stayed around my neck. I stared at the flowers and told my sister, “Got that, girl. Got that love, baby. Took a while. But I finally got in my life what the color of those flowers means. Wherever you are, be happy for me. I promise, we’re gonna do right.”

I said no more, waited for a wisp of wind that might be her reply, and got nothing.

It was disappointing but I had nine years of that, waiting for some sign that some part of Xenia’s spirit was still with me and not getting it. I was used to it by then.

I moved away and the instant I did, Ham curled his arm around my shoulders and tucked me close to his side. I wrapped my arm around his waist and we didn’t get a step before Pastor Williams stopped us.

“Zara, so pleased to see you here,” he said.

“Thank you, Pastor. I’m pleased I got the chance to come,” I replied. When his eyes went to Reece I introduced, “Pastor Williams, this is Graham Reece. Ham, this is Pastor Williams.”

They shook hands as Ham said, “Pastor. Folks call me Reece.”

“Fine, Reece. Nice to meet you.”

“Same,” Ham rumbled.

They broke contact and Pastor Williams looked to me. “I know this is not exactly a shock but it’s no less distressing. I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again. My door is always open if you ever need to talk.”

“Thanks Pastor,” I mumbled on a small smile.

He gave me a small smile back, nodded to me, nodded to Ham, and moved away.

I looked to my feet and muttered, “Hurry, let’s make a quick getaway.”

That was when I felt Ham go tight at my side and he muttered back, “Too late for that.”

My head lifted and I saw Dad approaching.

Really, he was handsome. He’d given me his blond hair. Although his had since faded to gray in an attractive way. He’d also given me my brown eyes. He’d been built back in the day and he kept in shape, for an older guy. If you didn’t know what a dick he was, and he didn’t wear that fact on his face, he’d still turn heads.

Ham drew me closer.

“Zara,” he greeted. These were the first words he’d spoken to me in nearly a decade and his voice was ice cold.

I refrained from replying, “Maker of the seed that spawned me,” and just looked at him.

His eyes slid to Ham before coming back to me. “I see rumor is true.”

I said nothing.

For some insane reason known only to him, Dad kept talking.

“Also heard you’ve traveled a rough road lately.”

I kept my mouth shut.

His eyes again slid to Ham before they came back to me and I wasn’t surprised it didn’t take him long to show his true colors. “As always, you solve your problems in an interesting way.”

“How’s Zander?” I asked as a response to that vague slur on Ham and me and I was thrilled not only to get the supportive squeeze from Ham’s arm but also to watch my dad’s face blanch.

I scanned the attendees and saw Aunt Wilona standing with Aunt Dahlia and my mother, all of them with eyes on me. Aunt Dahlia’s her usual nasty. Aunt Wilona looked a bit anxious but, weirdly, when I saw her eyes shift to Dad, they turned nasty. Mom’s look I didn’t allow myself to take in and quickly turned my attention back to Dad.

“I see Aunt Wilona didn’t bring Xenia’s son to his mother’s funeral.”

Dad’s mouth got tight, his eyes went cagey, and his hands went into the pockets of his trousers under his suit jacket, likely to hide that they’d balled into fists.

“It’s rather fortunate I was able to solve my problems in an interesting way before I found out my nephew’s living close by,” I remarked and that was when Dad’s torso swung in.

Toward me.

“Zara, you better—”

“Watch it,” Ham growled and his menacing tone of voice even freaked me.

Dad’s eyes cut to him and I looked at him, too.

But Ham only had eyes for Dad.

Angry ones.

“You’re already closer to her than I want you to be. You get closer, say somethin’ I don’t like, the serious problems we already got escalate in a big way,” Ham went on.

“Are you threatening me?” Dad asked.

“No, we’ll let our attorney do that,” Ham answered. Dad’s eyes got big, and with Ham’s arm firmly guiding me, he stepped us to the side and took us forward, past Dad, and straight to the truck.

Ham’s gait was not swift, but it was determined as he got us the hell out of there. My heels dug in the turf but I managed to keep up.

He opened my door for me and helped me up before he swung it closed.

He was behind the wheel and we were on our way when I spoke.

“Do you think we should have exposed our hand early like that?” I asked.

“Don’t know. Maybe not. Don’t care. Seein’ that asshole’s face when you said Zander’s name and when I mentioned our attorney was worth whatever play we might have just given up, though.”

He wasn’t wrong about that. I didn’t get the chance to share that.

Ham asked, “You doin’ okay?”

I looked out the windshield and clasped my hands in my lap. “Crazy, funerals suck, but you can’t deny they give closure.”

“True enough, cookie,” he replied.

It was me who reached for his hand this time.

But when I caught it, it was Ham’s fingers that closed around tight.

“Fuck, Zara. Ride that,” Ham growled.

I was already riding his cock, bent over him, my face close to his, one hand in the bed providing leverage, the nails of my other hand scraping over his chest.

Ham had one hand to my hip, encouraging me with squeezes. The other hand was cupping my face.

When I went faster, he slid his thumb along my lower lip, then pressed into my mouth.

The instant it cleared my teeth I sucked it deep.

“Jesus, baby,” Ham groaned, his hips thrusting up.

Oh yes. I liked this. Now I was really riding him.

He slid his thumb out, then back in, and I took it again and again as I took his cock again and again and when I was whimpering against his thumb, he pulled it out and whispered, “Let’s bring my girl home.”

I knew what he meant and I wanted it.

Ham didn’t delay. He slid his thumb out of his mouth, his hand down my chest, between my breasts, over my belly, and in and that thumb I had in my mouth pressed in at my clit and twitched.

I slammed down on him, grinding, my head flying back, and with a breathy cry, I came. Hard. Beautiful. Loving it. Loving Ham.

“Ride me, baby, take me there,” Ham encouraged, his voice thick and jagged and I started up again, faster, harder, driving myself down on him through my orgasm, my fingernails digging deeper into his chest and one scored over his nipple. His hips thrust up, he wrapped his arm around my waist driving me down, and he groaned deep.

I bent closer as he came down and slid my lips from the base of his throat up his neck and along my jaw.

Ham wrapped me in his arms and pressed me closer before he turned his head and said gruffly in my ear, “Now that’s how I like my girl ridin’ me.”

I smiled against his skin, lifted my head up, and looked down at him.

“Though, just sayin’, you want it that other way, I’m always available meat,” he finished.

I felt the laughter bubble up and out before I rested my weight on him and pressed my face in his neck.

He started sliding his hands soothingly along the skin of my back, lifting one hand high, sifting it through my hair and then down over my skin again. I was glad to have this back. I loved this. I missed it. I hadn’t had a ton of lovers and Greg could be affectionate after sex for a while (in the beginning) but then he was done and it was done.

I’d even tested it in the past and Ham could do it for hours. I’d once fallen asleep just like this, my face in his neck, his hands giving me love, because he did it so long, after ages of that and an orgasm, I slid straight to dreamland, feeling his affection as I fell.

“Thanks for doin’ what you could to make a shit day less shitty,” I told his skin and his hands stopped so his arms could wrap around me.

“Take care of my girl,” was all he said.

He certainly did.

“It was cool of you to call Neens. She brought Becca and Mindy, and Arlene heard about it so she came over too and it was…” I paused. “It felt nice, Ham, to remember why life’s worth livin’. Good friends who care. A man who has your back.” I kissed his neck and whispered, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, cookie,” he murmured.

I lifted my head and looked down at him. “No more days off though. We need all the money we can get.”

I saw the white flash of his smile through the dark and he asked, “Are you bossin’ the boss?”

“Yes,” I replied immediately.

His hands came to my face and there was firmness, not humor, in his tone when he assured me, “It’s all gonna be good.”

“It’ll be better, I have more tips in my pocket,” I returned.

His hands brought my face closer. “Zara. I swear, it’s all gonna be good.”

I held his eyes in the shadows and said, “Okay, darlin’.”

“Now kiss your man and climb off. I got to see to things then we can get some shut-eye.”

“Okay, baby,” I replied, dipped my head, kissed him open-mouthed, and ended up not climbing off because Ham took over the kiss and rolled me so we ended it with me on my back.

Once he broke it, he dipped his head to touch his lips to my chest and slid out of bed.

I curled up facing the bathroom door counting it out.

We’d had forty-two hours of official togetherness and, notwithstanding outside factors, we were doing a little bit of all right.

Xenia had met Ham. She didn’t come to the bar, too much temptation, but we’d met him on the boardwalk one day and I’d introduced her.

She’d liked him. I could tell because she told me he was hot and that was pretty much all my sister needed to like a guy.

She would have liked him more if she got to know him.

Ham’s shadow entered the room and then he entered the bed and curled me into him.

Once I’d settled in, I told him softly, “Xenia told me she liked you when she met you but if she’d gotten to know you, she would have really liked you.”

He lifted a hand to my hair and sifted his fingers through, asking, “You love her?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Then I would have liked her, too.”

I closed my eyes and whispered, “There it is.”

“What?”

“You. Awesome… er.”

The last sound either of us made before drifting off to sleep was Ham’s laughter.

I liked that.

So much I wanted it every night for the rest of my life.