He was wrong. I so totally was. I was paying so much attention, if I paid more, my head would explode.
“I am, Ham. You said it yourself. You have issues with women. You’re a rolling stone. You—”
I stopped speaking when he rolled into a seated position, back to headboard, taking me with him so I was straddling his lap, my torso pressed close.
He had one arm clamped tight around my waist and he had sifted the other hand into my hair and was cupping the back of my head.
“I’m here,” he stated.
“I know you are, but—”
“Baby, please be quiet for a bit and listen to me,” he requested gently.
I shut my mouth.
“I’m here, Zara, as in, I intend to stay here. I own a TV. A bed. Bought fuckin’ nightstands, a dresser, and lamps. This is it. This is where I wanna be. It’s where I wanna be because I like the people, I like the work, I like the bar where I work, all in God’s country. But this is mostly where I wanna be because
Now that was not too fast.
That took a long fucking time.
“Oh my God,” I breathed.
I wanted to believe that. I would have paid him to give me that. I would have sold my soul to the devil to have that.
But after wanting it for so long and never having it, I couldn’t believe in it.
Fortune seemed finally to be shining on me because Ham wasn’t done.
“Baby, a man lives his life runnin’ from history, hopin’ it doesn’t catch up and repeat itself, goes to sleep one night, opens his eyes in the dark to a man wielding an ax, suddenly findin’ himself facin’ an end that’s a fair bit worse than most, a footnote to a far uglier piece of history, I’ve told you before, he reflects. I also told you I did that. And you haven’t paid attention but I’m not just a bartender anymore. I’m a manager. I got responsibilities and I gave promises of longevity. I can’t put everything I own in my truck and move on.” His fingers tensed against my scalp. “Darlin’, I’m settling. What you didn’t know, what I was keepin’ back ’til the right time, that time bein’ now, was, I’m doin’ it with you.”
Was he serious?
Please tell me he was serious.
To get Ham, the only one who could answer that question, to do that, I used one word, “Why?”
“’Cause you’re my cookie, you’re easy, you’re funny, you’re honest, you’re fuckin’ sexy, you love my dick, and you’re not hard on the eyes.”
That was all awesome.
But somehow it also was not.
It was… flat.
Luckily, he wasn’t done.
“And I want kids. Hope I didn’t wait too long but I want them. I want a family, always have. Lost my parents young, Mom when I was seventeen, Dad when I was twenty-one, didn’t have any brothers or sisters but had it good with Mom and Dad. I want that back, want to give that to kids. You want them, too, and I know, what went down with your family, you’ve learned. So you’ll be a great mom.”
Okay. Again.
Please tell me he was serious.
Please, God, tell me this was happening to me.
I mean, I knew about his parents. His mom had always had really bad diabetes so even though Ham told me often she was a great mom that illness was always hanging over their heads.
His dad was a shock, heart attack at a young age. Then again, Ham said he drank, was overweight, and had a deep affinity for anything fried so during one of our heart-to-hearts when Ham and I first got together, he told me, even though his dad’s dying was a shock, it wasn’t a surprise.
But until then, I didn’t know my travelin’ man had always wanted a family.
Something I’d always wanted, too.
One that was better than the one I was born into, that was.
“Ham—”
“Plus, you’re all kinds of pretty. We’ll make beautiful babies, have fun doin’ it, and have fun raisin’ ’em. You’ll get my history because you lived a lot of it with me. I’ll share the rest. I’ll get yours because I’ve been in your life to share it with you. We never fight unless your head’s a mess because shit is fucked in your life and I’ve been recently attacked by an ax-wielding fuckwit. Or because I’m actin’ like a dick because listenin’ to you make yourself come after spendin’ night after night in a bed a door down from you was doin’ my motherfucking head in and I hadn’t been in there for years drove me to act like a dick.”
“So that’s what that was about,” I replied.
That got me another lip twitch and his arms pulled me closer. “Yeah, darlin’, that was what that was about.” His eyes dropped to my mouth and his voice dipped deeper. “Fuck, it sounded hot, good, went on so goddamned long. Torture.”
My stomach pitched.
“Ham,” I called and his eyes came to mine but his hand in my hair slid to my jaw.
“What, baby?”
He asked his question but I was lost in his eyes.
They were hooded and heated. Burning into mine.
Thus I knew his mind was not on what I was going to say.
It was elsewhere.
My mind joined it.
His thumb slid over my lower lip.
I lost my mind and pressed my lips to his.
He opened his lips over mine, slid his tongue inside and his hand back up into my hair, and my arms slid around him.
He slanted his head. I tipped mine the other way and Ham took the kiss deeper.
Then I was on my back in his bed and Ham was on top of me.
Not long after, I was naked on my back in his bed and Ham was moving inside me, his lips to mine but not kissing.
Breathing.
Heavily.
“When we’re done, you’re comin’ with me to the bathroom,” he ordered, voice thick.
“I won’t leave your bed, babe,” I assured him through panting.
Ham’s hips powered faster and I gasped against his mouth.
“You’re comin’ with,” he stated, voice now gruff.
I was so very close but still managed to force out a breathily exasperated, “Ham, I won’t leave your bed.”
“Makin’ sure and killin’ two birds with one stone by fuckin’ you in the shower while we’re there.”
Now,
I didn’t say that.
I arched my neck, wound my limbs tight around him, tipped my hips into his thrusts, and came.
Dawn was just lighting the sky when we were done and lying together in Ham’s bed. I’d gone to my room to get my nightgown, but I was back plastered against Ham’s side, cheek to his shoulder, fingers lightly raking through the hair on his chest. Ham, on his back, his arm tucked under and wrapped around me, was drawing random patterns with his fingertips on my hip.
“There’s more to say,” I told his chest softly.
“We’ll say it,” he replied.
