and even new matching napkins folded in rectangles on top of them. In the center of the table there was an enormous spray of blood-red roses, no baby’s breath, no greenery, just those stunning stems.
Against the wall next to the table, there was a matching hutch and above it was mounted a large, black- and-white, beautifully framed print.
A Cotton.
And not just any Cotton (not that there was such a thing).
It was a picture of “the old girl.” A picture Cotton took when he was with me.
Breathing again but having trouble doing it, my eyes stinging, throat burning, I gently pulled my hand from Ham’s and wandered in two steps. Turning woodenly, I saw all my stuff in the kitchen, dishtowels folded over the oven handle, canisters on the counter, crock holding wooden spoons and spatulas sitting by the range, another huge spray of blood-red roses resting on the bar.
Lips parted, vision swimming, I turned to see Ham standing in the entryway, arms crossed, watching me.
“How?” I breathed.
“Came up for auction, I bought it,” he replied.
My breath hitched. I swallowed, opened my mouth, closed it, opened it, and asked disbelievingly, “You bought it?”
“Months ago, cookie. Bought it with cash. It’s paid for. No mortgage. Then I waited until the time was right to bring you home.”
Bring me home.
I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t even cope with all I was feeling.
So I just stood there.
“Talked to our landlord,” Ham carried on. “She got another tenant for our unit, so we were free to move. Your shit is sorted. Time was right. Made a couple of calls, folks I made a couple of calls to made a couple of calls. Your girls Maybelline and Wanda as well as Nina set all this up.”
He jerked his head toward the dining room table.
“Deluxe Home Store,” he said. “They got it at a discount. Maybelline, her husband, and Wanda’s gift to you.”
I started deep breathing.
Ham wasn’t done.
“Obviously, Cotton gave you that print. The stereo and surround sound, I bought that, but Arlene arranged delivery and Mindy’s man, Jeff, set it up. Flowers are from me, too, but Arlene picked them up for me. Nina got Max to sort out some guys. They were waiting in the parking lot at our pad, saw us leave tonight, they got to work and did the heavy lifting. Nina, your girls Mindy, Becca, and Jenna, as well as Maybelline and Wanda, sorted the other stuff.” He jerked his head toward the built-in, obviously referring to the arrangement of CDs and knickknacks before he concluded, “Our clothes are in the closet. Your bed is in the guest room. Our bed is in our room. We’re home.”
We were home.
Ham had bought my house.
I stood immobile, unable to move, but more, unwilling just in case movement would pierce the fragile bubble that had formed over this crazy-beautiful dream.
Ham didn’t have a problem moving and he did so to come to me.
But he stopped a foot in front of me, bent, grabbed my left hand, and lifted it. He held it between us, dug in his jeans pocket, and pulled his hand out. Arranging my ring finger straight with his thumb, he moved his other hand to it and my head dropped, this all feeling like it happened in slow motion.
And it was then I watched his long, strong, calloused fingers slide a princess-cut diamond on my finger. It was simple, no adornment, set in white gold or maybe platinum. But the diamond needed no ornamentation. It was not small, not by a long shot. It wasn’t massive and ostentatious, either. But it made a statement.
A huge one.
Again I quit breathing.
“Like I said,” Ham began and my head drifted back up so I could catch his eyes. “Now’s your time where you get everything you need.”
“I love you,” I forced out in a whisper.
“I know.” He did not whisper.
“No. I love you,” I repeated.
“I know, cookie.”
“No,” I stated, his fingers still holding mine. I didn’t move but kept my eyes locked to his. “I
Ham said nothing but I knew he understood me when his eyes started burning and his hand, which had been gently holding mine, engulfed it, squeezing tight.
“You’re an unbelievable man, Ham,” I told him me softly.
His burning eyes flared and his hand pulled me closer.
But his lips ordered, “Shut it, honey.”
His voice was jagged.
“Best man I ever met,” I went on.
With me closer, his free hand came up, curling around the side of my neck, sliding up and back into my hair.
“Be quiet, baby,” he whispered, those jagged words tearing through me beautifully.
“So fuckin’ strong,” I kept going.
“Quiet, honey.”
“So goddamned handsome.”
“Cookie—”
“Always there for me.”
His hand cupping the back of my head pulled me up as his head came down and he crushed his mouth to mine.
He let my other hand go so his arm could knife around my back. My arms circled his shoulders and we made out, hot and heavy, in our new house.
It was the best kiss I’d ever had, even better than the ones he gave me that morning before and after he told me he loved me.
Then again, this time, he was doing it after he put his ring on my finger and gave me back my house, so that was hardly surprising.
When we were done, Ham kept me in his arms but shoved my face in his neck as he pressed his jaw to the side of my head.
“You bought back my house,” I said there.
“Yeah,” he confirmed what was proved all around.
“You’re pretty good with show,” I shared in a massive understatement.
“Glad you appreciate it,” he replied.
“Though, that said, you’re also pretty good with tell,” I stated.
“Pleased I got both bases covered,” he returned.
“Just in case there’s a doubt, the answer is yes, I’ll marry you,” I told him.
“Good to have that verified.” His voice was now holding a smile.
“And, my guess, you corralled Maybelle into helping with all this, she probably likes you now,” I stated.
“She said much the same thing when I stole her number from your cell and we had our chat,” he informed me.
That was good to know.
“The ring is beautiful,” I kept blathering.
His arm gave me a squeeze. “Glad you like it, cookie.”
“No, I mean it’s
