didn’t make enough money to do it and often.”

Yes. This just got worse.

“Ham—” I started, only for him to talk over me again.

“Bitch three pulled much the same shit as my ex-wife, promises of together and babies, but she worked out half the time. I had to pry her away from her goddamned mirror, she admired the results so much, and by the time we got down to it, again, I found her birth control pills so I knew she was jacking me. This, too, was my fault because I didn’t understand her issues with her body and how a baby would interfere with all her hard work, her body would never be the same, and she was uncertain she was prepared for that at her age. I knew she’d carried extra weight ’cause I was with her before she took it all off. And I knew she worked hard to get it off. I could understand that. Again, that’s the way she is. I get it. What I don’t get is her tellin’ me one thing and doin’ another. You don’t want a baby, say it.”

“They’d lose you if they did,” I explained carefully.

“So jackin’ me around is okay?” he asked disbelievingly.

“No,” I answered hurriedly. “I’m not excusing them. I’m just trying to explain so you understand. Losing you—especially you—is a hard thing to do, Ham. You’re a good guy.”

“Right.” He gave a curt nod. “I think I got that, babe. So exit good-guy Reece. From then on it was no promises, no expectations. Just good times and no bullshit. She starts feeding me bullshit, she doesn’t get another call.”

I pressed my lips together and Ham’s eyes dropped to them before coming back to mine.

“You always got a call,” he reminded me.

“I know.”

“So what’s with the look?” he asked.

“I’m just wondering how many women are out there, waiting for calls,” I answered hesitantly.

“None, seein’ as, when I made my decision it was you and Gnaw Bone, the only other one I had got a call explaining shit and how she wouldn’t be gettin’ future calls. She was in Taos. She was new, a good-time girl, and, babe, it might make me sound like a dick but she wasn’t gonna make the cut anyway. Outside of her, there was only Feb and she’d already moved on.”

All the air squeezed out of my lungs.

The good news was, there was only one.

The bad news was, he’d again mentioned February Owens and her “already moving on,” which made me wonder what would have happened if she hadn’t.

Would he be in Indiana with February?

“How fantastic is this? And you don’t have food! Perfect timing for us to join you!”

Ham’s eyes shot up, my head twisted around, but I already knew that English-accented voice.

Nina and Max were standing there.

Damn.

“Max, darling, isn’t this great?” Nina asked when no one said a word.

Max didn’t look like he thought it was great. His eyes were aimed Greg’s way. Then they swung his sister’s way. Then he looked down at his wife and lifted his brows.

She completely ignored him and shoved into the booth next to Ham.

“You’re Graham Reece,” she stated, pushing her hand his way.

Ham looked at her hand then at her face before he took her hand, muttering, “Reece.”

“Delighted,” she replied as he let her go and her eyes went to her husband. “Max, honey, sit down.” Before Max could do as ordered, or not, she snapped her fingers at a passing waitress and said, “We’re sitting here. Please, when you have a second, we need menus.”

I scooted over when Max slid in beside me and I tipped my head back when his arm curled around my shoulders for a squeeze as his head came down and he kissed my cheek.

“Hey, Zara,” he greeted.

“Hey, Max,” I replied.

Max let me go and extended a hand to Ham. “Reece. Holden Maxwell. Max.”

“Yeah, seen you at The Dog. Good to meet you,” Ham murmured as they did a shake and let go.

Ham looked at me.

I widened my eyes to him.

He raised his brows to me.

I pressed my lips together.

“Can I get you drinks?” our waitress asked the newcomers while handing them menus.

“Beer and keep bringin’ ’em,” Max answered on a mutter.

“Martini for me. Vodka. Up. Olive,” Nina added.

The waitress nodded and moved away.

“Duchess, I said beer and keep ’em comin’. You wanted to do this, I get to drink and you drive us home,” Max told his wife.

I didn’t know what “this” was that Nina wanted to do but I suspected it had something to do with them horning in on my special night with Ham.

And, by the way, Max’s nickname for his wife was “duchess,” this being because she had an English accent. He called her that all the time and I thought it was all kinds of cute.

“Just one,” Nina told her husband. “By the time I’m finished with dinner, I’ll be fine.”

Max looked at Ham and there was a light in his eye and his lips were twitching before he informed him, “You heard it. Now watch as she gets fuckin’ smashed and I stop at beer two.”

I was beginning to feel a hysterical giggle forming inside me.

“I’m not going to get smashed,” Nina snapped.

“We been here fifteen times. Each time, except when you were pregnant, you had two martinis, half a bottle of wine, and an amaretto and passed out in the Cherokee on the way home,” Max returned. She opened her mouth to speak but Max beat her to it, his lips now fully curved up. “And the passing-out part includes when you were pregnant and not smashed.”

Definitely feeling a hysterical giggle forming.

Nina’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll remind you, Holden Maxwell, father of my children, love of my life, that we just met Reece and perhaps he doesn’t wish to listen to us squabbling.”

Max looked at Ham. “Kiss that good-bye. We’ll be fightin’ on and off through dinner. Prepare. She gets riled, we’re all fucked.”

The words sounded like Max was complaining but his tone sounded downright proud.

Nina swung her gaze to Ham. “Don’t listen to him. Ask Zara. I’m very sweet.”

“She’s a goddamn hellion,” Max muttered, now sounding proud and amused.

The hysterical giggle was choking me at exactly the same time Ham burst out laughing.

Still laughing, Ham cut his eyes to Max and asked, “You mind we switch sides? Since we got company, I’d like to sit by my woman.”

“Not a problem. I’m closer to my wife, I have a better shot at controlling her,” Max replied, sliding out of his side of the booth.

“Max!” Nina hissed as she slid out of hers.

“Not a good chance,” Max told Ham as they switched sides, “but a better one.”

Everyone settled. Max with his arm resting on the back of their side of the booth, Nina fuming, Max grinning at her. Ham with his arm on the back of our booth, fingers absently brushing my shoulder, both of us sipping beer and smiling.

When their drinks arrived, I took the chance to put my lips to Ham’s ear.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered there.

“I take it they’re your friends,” he whispered in mine.

“Yeah.”

“Then don’t be, baby. We’ll finish later.”

“Okay.”

I pulled away but he caught me with his arm around my shoulders, pulled me back, and touched his mouth

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