It was also terrifying.
Even so, it felt beautiful.
I didn’t avoid him at the bar and I told myself that was my punishment. Although I didn’t avoid him, Ham didn’t push conversation. That didn’t mean he wasn’t watchful of me, his eyes moving over my face, studying me closely before filling my orders, making my anxiety increase tremendously.
At the beginning of the shift, things were not busy or even steady. So I got my drink orders from Ham but I did my best to stay busy and away from the bar. Away from Ham.
Luckily, it got busier and I didn’t have to find work to keep me occupied.
Finally, it was closing time.
Ham was talking to Christie and I took that opportunity to go get my purse, get in my car, and get my ass to Carnal Hotel.
I accomplished one of these goals. I got my purse and I got
“Reece wants to talk to you, honey,” Christie told me as she made her way to her Hyundai.
Man, oh man.
“Okay,” I called, forcing brightness in my tone and, as she got in and I moved to the back door, I saw Ham lounging in its frame holding up what appeared to be my keys.
“Lookin’ for these?” he asked.
I stopped four feet away and didn’t answer.
He palmed the keys and shoved them in his jeans pocket.
“I’m your ride home tonight, cookie,” he informed me.
“My car is here,” I informed him.
“It’ll be safe.”
“I’m not sure it will, Ham. We’re not exactly in town.”
And we weren’t. There was good reason why The Dog was almost completely populated by locals—because they were the only ones who knew how to find it out here in the boonies.
“Got security cameras, babe, so even if your car is stolen, we’ll catch on film who did it and you got insurance. So it’s stayin’ here and I’m your ride.”
“I—” I started but Ham swiftly cut me off.
“You say another goddamned word, I’ll kiss you quiet, drag your ass into the office, fuck you on the goddamned desk, and do it until you’re so exhausted, you can’t speak and
I snapped my mouth shut.
Ham did not.
“Now either you open your mouth and get that or you keep it shut and ride home with me. Which is it gonna be?”
Although, in an alternate universe, I’d jump at option A, in this universe, I was definitely going with option B.
So I pressed my lips together and, just in case he couldn’t see that from where he was lounging in the doorway, I slid them to the side to make sure I made my point.
“Good fuckin’ choice,” he stated. “Now get your ass in here while I finish shit.”
He stepped to the side and I got my ass in there, squeezing by him, so I could wait it out while he finished shit.
Then, clearly, we were going home to talk.
And I was utterly terrified of what he had to say.
Chapter Eight
We made the ride home in silence but I knew I couldn’t avoid the talk just as I knew I shouldn’t.
We had to get this out and move on.
And I knew how we were going to move on and that was me moving out and finding another job (again) because this was messed up.
I couldn’t live like this.
I’d tried but I’d rolled the dice and fucked it up.
I was in love with Ham. I had been since I was twenty-four. I probably would be forever.
So as he “finished shit” at the bar, I blanked my mind, stayed quiet, and waited.
The ride home was silent and tense. And when we got home, I moved to the living room, shrugged off my purse and jacket, and threw them on the armchair before I turned to sit my ass on the couch in order to get this done and prepare to move on.
Before I could make it to the couch, my hand was seized, my arm tugged, and I found myself being dragged behind Ham toward the hall.
“Ham—”
“Shut it five seconds, baby,” he told the hall, taking us on a direct trajectory to his room.
It took more than five seconds but I kept it shut the entire time, mostly because I was bemused, sad at the thought of losing Ham for good, and freaked way the hell out at the way Ham was acting. I was also wondering why I managed to always fuck up my life. I had no one else to blame but me about everything.
And especially this.
I knew better than to move in with him. I
But I did.
Now we were broken, just like I broke Greg.
Ham was right, Greg knew me. He knew who he’d married, so I’d come to uneasy terms with that being not exactly all my fault.
This, I had no leg to stand on.
When we got to his room, Ham switched on a bedside lamp, used his hand in mine to maneuver me to the bed, and then let me go to put his hand in my belly. He gave me a little shove so I was sitting on his bed.
I looked up at him. “Ham—”
“Five more seconds, cookie,” he muttered as he bent, lifted my leg, yanked off my boot then he did the same with the other.
After that, he straightened and shrugged off his jeans jacket, letting it drop to the floor. He then stooped to take off his own boots and only after that did he come to me, plant his hands under my arms, and haul me into the bed so I was on my back, head to the pillows.
I belatedly started breathing heavily when he put a knee to the bed, hiked his other leg over me, and settled his big body mostly on me, partly to my side.
He put his elbow in the pillow, head in hand, and locked eyes with me.
That was when he asked, “What the fuck was that?”
My mind was now blanked for a different reason, primarily freaking way the hell out that we were having this conversation in his bed, so I didn’t know what he was asking.
Even if I wasn’t freaking, I still would be confused.
Therefore, I asked, “What the fuck was what?”
“Last night,” he answered. “I go to the bathroom to get rid of the condom, come out, you’re gone. By the time I make it to the door, buck naked, mind, I see you dressed and runnin’ down the hall. Seein’ as I’m buck naked, I can’t get to you before you disappear. You’re gone all night, don’t answer your phone, don’t answer it all fuckin’ day. I’m worried sick, you stroll into the bar, and then you’re beyond weird at work.”
I stared into his eyes, marveling how the light brown at his pupils spiked through the dark brown that edged his irises. I’d never seen anything like that and it was all kinds of fascinating because it was all kinds of
