Jagged (18 page)

“Well shit.” His words were sarcastic but that didn’t mean they weren’t dripping icicles. “See I’m in a position to apologize since I fucked your wife against the wall before we left to come here.”

This was when I plonked my head on the table again.

“Oh my,” Nina breathed as she glanced at Max. “We haven’t done that in a while, darling. We should do that again.”

“Gross,” Kami said.

“Foul,” Aunt Dahlia snapped.

“I’m never comin’ to The Rooster again,” Max declared.

“Maybe we should take this outside,” Greg suggested, and at the thought of Greg, five-nine and not having worked out since high school football, going up against Bruiser Ham, my head shot up.

“Stop it,” I whispered and I felt all eyes come to me but I was looking at Greg. “This was gonna happen, either for you or for me. It was always gonna be unpleasant. I cannot fathom why you’d make it more so,” I told him.

He knew what I meant. His face blanched, his eyes went contrite, but I looked at Aunt Dahlia.

“I’m never calling my father. I have nothing to say to him and he has nothing to say that I want to hear. You also don’t have anything to say that I want to hear. I can’t imagine after all that went down nearly a decade ago how you’d have the gall to walk up to my table, badmouth my man, and be all-around nasty but you did it. You did it well. Congratulations. Now, please, go away.”

She sniffed, opened her mouth to say something, but I quickly looked to Ham.

“Please, darlin’, sit down. They don’t exist. This is our night. We’re enjoyin’ it with friends. Let’s get back to doin’ that.”

Ham hesitated a beat before he slid in beside me.

I looked at Kami.

“Thanks for comin’ to my rescue but it’s all good now.”

Kami didn’t move, crossed her arms on her chest, and glared at Aunt Dahlia.

Aunt Dahlia shot her a look that only a shield of orneriness as world-class as Kami’s could save her from bursting into flames and then Aunt Dahlia flounced off.

“Zara—” Greg started. Ham tensed beside me and I quickly looked to Greg.

“Please, don’t. I’ll call you later,” I said quietly.

He looked to me, avoided all other eyes, and took off.

“Nina, Max, always a blast,” Kami said to her brother and sister-in-law. “Guy I don’t know, you treat her like shit, I slash your tires,” she said to Ham. “Zara, later,” she said to me, and then she sauntered away.

“All right now?” the suited manager asked.

“Yes, no thanks to you,” Nina answered on a snap.

“I’ll have complimentary drinks sent to your table,” he muttered, backing away.

“That will be good… to start,” Nina returned.

He disappeared.

I took in a deep breath.

Ham curled an arm around me and pulled me into his side.

“You okay, cookie?” he asked.

I tipped my head back to look at him.

“How are you with grilling steak?” I asked.

“You know the answer to that,” he answered.

I did. He was the master. Outside grill. Fried in butter in a skillet. Broiled. You name it, he did it, and well.

“Next time, we eat in,” I told him.

He grinned.

“Cookie. I like that,” Nina murmured.

I looked to her and she smiled.

I relaxed into Ham’s side.

His arm around me got tighter.

The rest of the restaurant melted away.

Only then did I smile back at Nina.

* * *

We were in Ham’s bed, Ham on his back, me pressed to his side, my cheek to his shoulder, my hand resting on his chest.

I was exhausted. A day of a lot of great sex, good food, good drink, and, in the end, good company made me that way.

Nothing else happened after the incident with my aunt, Greg, and Kami, thank God, although I noticed that Max seemed a little standoffish with Ham but hid it behind his friendly Max ways. This melted after the appetizers and by the end of the night, luckily, everyone was getting on great and we had a good time.

But right then, as exhausted as I was, I knew sleep wouldn’t find me. There was too much on my mind. What Ham told me. How sad it was. How angry it made me feel that those women treated him that way, most especially his bitch of a wife. The fact that we’d been interrupted and I was worried there was more. Greg on the whole and what I was going to do about him.

But mostly, my aunt.

I would know that Ham also had things on his mind when he rumbled into the dark, “Somethin’s gotta be done about that ex of yours, cookie.”

I pressed closer and promised, “I’ll talk to him.”

“That is not gonna happen.”

His words surprised me so much I lifted my head and looked down at him in the dark.

“What?”

“I’ll have words with that fuckwit.”

I felt my body get tight. “Babe, he’s not a fuckwit.”

“Called you his wife. Got in my face,” Ham laid out the evidence.

“See it from his perspective,” I urged.

“Got in your face while you were at work.”

He did do that, though I wouldn’t call it “getting in my face.”

However, it must be said. The evidence was pretty damning.

“He didn’t wanna let me go,” I whispered.

“Well, he did. Papers signed. Months passed. It’s done. He needs to get the fuck over it and I’m gonna communicate that to him. You are not.”

“I think it’s best if I—”

I shut my mouth when he declared, “I stepped aside for him.”

Yes, actually, he did.

Ham kept talking.

And, in doing so, melting my heart.

“Didn’t want to do it, hated fuckin’ doin’ it, hated losin’ you for three years, but I did it. For you. For you to have him. So that means for him to have you. I wasn’t in the place to give you what you needed then but if I was, you made it plain, I coulda made things not so fuckin’ easy for him. I didn’t. Now you’re mine. He needs to back the fuck off.”

I loved that. All of it.

I still felt the need to protect Greg from Bruiser Ham.

“But you don’t know him, Ham. I do. And seein’ me with you had to hurt him tonight.”

“Zara, you bein’ you, actin’ like you, lookin’ like you, he’s fuckin’ lucky he hasn’t seen you with someone else long before this. And I’m not happy your life was fucked but that doesn’t change the fact I’m lucky your life was fucked so you didn’t even think about findin’ another guy or I would be fucked.”

I loved that, too. A whole lot.

That didn’t mean I didn’t keep trying.

“Let me try talkin’ to him first,” I suggested.

He weirdly cut me off with, “Babe, your clothes in my closet?”

“Yes, but—”

“They are. You’re mine. Two strikes, he doesn’t get a third. Now I’m dealin’ with him.”

“That makes me uncomfortable, Ham,” I shared.

“I get that. I get why. I get you got guilt. I get you got feelings for him. I also don’t give a fuck about him. You’re my woman out to dinner with me and he stands there in front of me and calls you his wife? No fuckin’ way. No one stakes their claim to what’s mine, not behind my back, not across a room, and especially not to my face without a conversation.”

That was when I knew I was right about Ham.

When it was no promises, no expectations, he was fair enough to give the same in return.

When there were, what was his was his and he marked his territory.

I was also right about something else.

Possessiveness was
hot.

“Go easy,” I said quietly, giving in.

“We’ll start with that and see how it goes,” he replied.

I decided to leave it at that and settle in.

We were silent for a long while but I couldn’t fall asleep and I knew Ham couldn’t either, so I laid something else on my mind on him.

“I’m worried about my aunt comin’ to the table and what Dad might have to say.”

I was worried even though I suspected I knew.

I’d been waiting. Waiting for years.

That didn’t mean I
wanted
to know and wasn’t worried about finding out.

“Put it out of your head,” Ham ordered.

He, I knew, suspected, too.

“I’m not sure I can do that,” I admitted.

He moved his hand to my face, fingers gliding along my cheek, through my hair, and he finished by wrapping his arm around me so I was snug in both.

“You made the decision to turn your back on that, cookie. We talked it out then and I still think you did the right thing. It was either they succeeded in destroyin’ your sister or they got a shot at bringing the both of you down. They destroyed your sister. Even if it’s not done, it’s still done. We got you to the place of understandin’ that. Don’t give her the chance to drag you back in.”

He was right. He was right back then when he guided me to that decision and he was right now.

I sighed.

Ham’s arms gave me a squeeze.

“We need to finish our chat,” I told him.

“We will, baby,” he told me. “Though, not much left to say.”

At least that was good.

I pressed even closer and whispered, “I’m sorry those women treated you that way.”

“Me too,” he agreed.

“Just sayin’, serious, no joke, we have what we have now or even what we had before, if we made a baby and I was carrying it inside me, no way I’d ever let it go.”

I just got out the
O
sound in “go” when his arms got so tight, I was forced to slide up his chest and my lungs constricted, seeing as he was squeezing the breath out of me.

Therefore, I wheezed, “Ham.”

He pulled me up his chest, his arms relaxed, and he slid one hand into my hair, bringing my mouth down to touch it to his.

When he let me lift away, he whispered, his voice jagged, “Thank you, Zara.”

That meant a lot to him and it meaning a lot meant a lot to me, seeing as I clearly said the right thing and that was what I hoped I’d do.

“You’re welcome, darlin’,” I whispered back.

He shifted me back down his chest, his hand at my head settling my cheek back to his shoulder and ordering, “Go to sleep, baby.”

“Okay. ’Night, Ham.”

“’Night, cookie.”

I closed my eyes and tried to find sleep. After a while, I needed to move so I rolled, Ham rolled with me, bringing up his knees and mine and holding me close around my belly so we were spooning.

I felt his face in my hair and heard his voice murmur, “Softest hair I ever felt.”

I felt my lips curl up, I snuggled my ass in his groin, and then I fell asleep.

Reece

Reece did not fall asleep when Zara did.

He didn’t fall asleep at all.

And when his alarm clock showed seven thirty, he carefully slid away from her and moved out of bed.

Silently, he got dressed. Moving slowly so he wouldn’t wake her, he grabbed his boots and went to put them on in the living room.

His girl slept deep and they’d gone to bed late, but he didn’t take any chances with her getting up, finding him not there and wondering where he was. He left her a note in the kitchen saying he was getting something from town. He then went to her purse, found her cell, found her ex’s number, and programmed it into his phone.

Then he went to his truck.

He drove into town and parked outside the police station. Slamming his door, he walked up the steps to the wooden boardwalk that served as a sidewalk along both sides the length of the main street of Gnaw Bone, making it look Wild West, which, in its day, it was.

He walked into the station seeing a woman at the desk, and standing at her side, a tall, fit man who nevertheless had a slight paunch over the big belt buckle he was wearing. If memory served, and for Reece it usually did, the man’s name was Shaughnessy and he was a cop. He was wearing jeans and a flannel shirt, and it was likely he hadn’t yet gotten around that morning to putting his badge on his belt.

Reece walked up to the front desk and the lady asked, “Can I help you?”

Before Reece could answer, Shaughnessy butted in. “Reece, right? New top dog at The Dog.”

Reece looked to him to see the man’s eyes sharp on Reece but there was a small smile on his face that was genuine.

“Yep,” Reece replied. Shaughnessy leaned in with a hand raised and Reece took it. “Shaughnessy, right?” Reece asked to confirm.

“Mick,” the man said after giving Reece’s hand a deliberate, manly squeeze. Not too firm to make it a contest, nowhere near weak either, and Reece returned the gesture. “I got a title, which means I’m top dog around here, but no one uses it. Everyone just calls me Mick. You’re welcome to do the same.”

Friendly, approachable, the title didn’t matter. The job did.

It was then Reece remembered he liked this guy.

“All right, Mick,” Reece agreed.

To Reece’s surprise, Mick invited, “’Spect, this early, you could use some coffee. Why don’t you come around?”

He hadn’t expected this to be that easy.

Then again, he’d chosen Gnaw Bone because people were that easy, his woman being one of them.

But even if Gnaw Bone wasn’t so friendly, he still would have come for Zara.

He followed Mick to a coffeepot in a common area. Mick poured and slid the sugar Reece’s way. Reece took care of his mug, Mick took care of his, and then Mick looked to him.

“Why don’t we have a sit down in my office?” Mick asked.

Reece lifted his chin and followed Mick into an office that looked like the man who used it had not only been there a while, but also, he was busy.

“Jane, our girl up front, wants to tidy up. I just don’t let her. If she did, I wouldn’t know where anything was,” Mick explained the mess as he rounded his desk and sat down, flicking his hand at the three chairs across from it. “Take a load off, son.”

Reece did, took a sip of coffee, and trained his eyes on the cop.

Before he could say a word, Mick smiled and stated, “Glad you came down. Best we get things ironed out between us before we gotta iron them out during a situation. Been meanin’ to come speak with you, things got in the way. Glad you reached out and beat me to it.”

Reece felt his brows draw together as he replied, “Not followin’.”