* * *
We were on the sidewalk outside The Mark, Aunt Wilona and I a bit away from Zander and Ham, who’d walked down to take a look at his truck.
But not too far away that we didn’t hear Zander yell, “That truck is huge!”
I watched Ham smile down at him and my belly felt weird. Like I had butterflies. And it hit me that this was because, at that moment, I understood in a visceral way that Ham would be a good father. And that would mean a good father to our kids.
And a good uncle to his nephew.
Holding that feeling close with the warmth of sharing a mud pie with my nephew, I turned to Aunt Wilona and did what I had to do.
I reached out, touched her forearm, and stopped.
She looked down to her arm where my hand had touched, looked at me, and stopped, too.
“Does he ask about his dad?” I asked, bracing for her answer because Xenia had narrowed it down to two guys. Only one was still in town but Zander didn’t look like either of them.
She gave a brief nod. “Started asking about his parents a year or so ago. Being careful with it. Xavier didn’t want me to say anything so I danced around it until, of course, after the, uh…”
She trailed off and I nodded to let her know I understood.
“I don’t know who his father is, Aunt Wilona,” I admitted. “And neither did Xenia. Not for certain.”
She looked toward Zander and murmured, “My niece had demons.”
I was grateful she understood that. In the coming years, sharing with Zander about his mother, it would be important.
“I’ll need to understand how Dad is with him,” I said quietly.
“You know your father,” she replied and my eyes sharpened on her.
“Yes, Aunt Wilona, I do and I’ll need to understand how Dad is with him,” I repeated firmly.
She held my eyes and whispered, “He doesn’t hurt him.”
“Zander seems very high-spirited,” I noted. “Except when he’s talking about Dad. Then he seems confused.”
“Your father is a hard man,” Aunt Wilona said. “Zander is a nine-year-old boy. He doesn’t understand hard.”
“Abuse comes in many forms,” I returned. “And all of them are hard.”
“I wouldn’t allow that to happen,” she retorted quickly and sharply. “We’d disappear before that happened. Zander hasn’t been alone in your father’s presence since he was six months old.”
I let out a relieved breath for a variety of reasons.
It was coming clear that Aunt Wilona was not like my mother. She was a lioness with my nephew. She raised him. She obviously loved him. And most important, when it came to my dad, she protected him.
“It’s very difficult living under this cloud, especially since I have to keep it from Zander,” she went on and I focused on her. “Do you and Reece know what you intend to do?”
“About Zander, not yet,” I answered, then gave her a hint of the relief she gave me. “We’re concerned about him gettin’ caught in this storm. We’d like to avoid doing that and we want to find ways to work with you to accomplish that. But you should know, the clouds are gathering and, tomorrow, Dad is not going to be very happy.”
Her eyes narrowed on me but she simply nodded and didn’t ask questions.
“You seem to have done well with him,” I noted carefully.
“He’s my life,” she replied.
“Aunt Wilona—”
Her face twisted with emotion and she turned fully to me.
“I know I didn’t get him the right way but that doesn’t mean a thing. I told your man and I’ll tell you, Zander wants you in his life. I want him to have his aunt. You were close with Xenia. You can give her to him in a way I can’t, and you did that tonight, seeing as I don’t even have any pictures of her. And a boy should have his mother however he can get her.”
She stopped and I nodded so she continued.
“And I want to mend fences with you. Having him, he’s taught me a few things, and I’ve learned you’re never too old to learn. So, I’m saying this because I want to keep him, I want him safe, I don’t want his life disrupted, but nine years under Xavier’s thumb, nine years with Zander in my life, I’ve learned what’s important. And doing everything I can to give that boy the life he needs to build a good one when he gets older is the only thing that’s important. And that includes family.” She leaned into me. “The right kind.”
That meant so much to me, of course, I went flippant.
“If you’re not careful, I might start liking you.”
“Same goes for you,” she replied instantly and Aunt Wilona even being minutely funny shocked the shit out of me so I burst out laughing.
When I started to get control of it, I was shocked further to see Aunt Wilona smiling at me.
“What are you guys laughing about?” Zander asked and I looked down to see him come to a jumping halt close to my aunt.
He’d obviously run there because Ham was still down the way, sauntering toward us, eyes on me, assessing.
“Your Nona was being funny,” I told Zander when I looked away from Ham to him.
“She’s like that all the time,” Zander surprised me by replying.
“Good,” I whispered and looked at my aunt.
“Get this!” Zander started, grabbing Aunt Wilona’s hand for a quick tug before letting it go. “Uncle Reece has a Harley.”
“Oh God,” Aunt Wilona moaned, looking up to the heavens.
“I know!” Zander replied, interpreting her reaction as only a nine-year-old boy would. “Isn’t that cool?”
Aunt Wilona looked to Reece and shocked the hell out of me yet again.
“He gets on the back of that with you, he wears a helmet.”
“Of course,” Ham murmured.
“No way!” Zander shouted. “Tough guys don’t wear helmets!”
“Tough kids mind their aunts or they don’t get a ride,” Ham commented and Zander looked up at him, scrunched his nose, and then looked at his feet.
“Whatever,” he muttered, then he looked up at me. “Do you ride with him?”
“Yes,” I answered.
“Do you wear a helmet?” he pressed on.
Stupidly, I hadn’t seen that coming.
“Well…” I started, trailed off, and Ham saved me.
“My bike, my rules. And my rules are, you follow your aunt’s rules. Yeah?”
Zander looked to Ham then my aunt and I followed his eyes.
Aunt Wilona was staring at Ham with what might have been respect before she looked down at Zander and said, “We should go, honey.”
Zander nodded and looked up at me. “Nona says you can come over for dinner. You wanna do that soon?”
I wanted to do that that night.
“Whenever you want us, we’ll be there,” I said.
“Awesome,” he mumbled.
“Say good-bye, sweetheart, we should get going,” Aunt Wilona urged.
“Right,” Zander said, looked at Ham, and waved. “Bye.” He did the same to me and repeated his “bye.”
“Bye, kid,” Ham rumbled.
“Bye, darlin’,” I replied, grinning at him, and then I grinned at Aunt Wilona. “Bye… Nona.”
She rolled her eyes before she gave her farewells and they moved away.
Ham moved to my side and curved an arm around my shoulders as we watched them go.
Then, suddenly, Zander turned around, raced back, and wrapped his arms quickly around my hips, giving me a barely there hug before he jumped back and looked up at me.
“Thanks for the picture,” he whispered.
I wasn’t breathing, too moved by his touch, his words, but I still opened my mouth in an effort to speak but before I could, he turned and dashed back toward Aunt Wilona, stopped again, looked to Ham, and called, “I’ll wear a helmet!”
Then he ran back to Aunt Wilona. She gave us another wave and I stood in the curve of Ham’s arm as we watched them get in their SUV then I r
eturned Zander’s wave as we watched them drive away.
“How’s my cookie?” he muttered as I continued to watch the street where they’d disappeared.
“He’s a great kid.”
“Yeah, he is.”
“Did you see that with the picture?”
His arm curled me closer to his side. “Yeah, baby.”
“Aunt Wilona doesn’t let him alone with Dad,” I told him.
“That’s good,” Ham replied.
“I’m in love,” I declared and Ham curled me even closer, fitting my front to his side, and I tipped my head back to catch his eyes.
“I figured that’d happen,” he noted.
“Aunt Wilona’s done a good job,” I whispered.
“Seems so,” Ham agreed.
“I miss her more right now than I have in nine years,” I shared.
He knew I was talking about Xenia and I knew he did when his eyes warmed, his face got soft, and his lips murmured, “Baby.”
I shoved my face into his chest.
Ham wrapped his other arm around me and I wrapped both around him.
We stood there on the boardwalk for a long time, holding on, saying nothing.
Eventually, I broke the silence.
“I want nine kids,” I declared, my voice muffled by his chest.
“Seems I’m done with condoms,” was his reply.
I tipped my head back, caught his beautiful, intelligent, smiling eyes, and burst out laughing.
Chapter Eighteen
Show and Tell
The next morning, I was woken up when Ham dragged his thumb over my nipple.
My eyes opened slowly as that scored straight from nipple to between my legs and I whispered, “Ham.”
The second I said his name, his heat left my back, he rolled me, rolled over me, and his mouth took mine in a deep, soft, sweet kiss.
I slid my arms around him.
Thus Ham commenced making love to me before I was barely awake. Something he did on occasion. Something I liked very, very much.
And when he did it, he made it all about me. Taking his time through kisses and touches to remove my nightgown and panties. Then it was all about his hands, lips, and tongue trailing over my neck, chest, my breasts, ribs, and belly. His mouth closing over my nipples and gently suckling. His fingertips gliding through the wetness between my legs, tender, reverent, loving. His lips coming back to my mouth to kiss me deep, wet, sweet, beautiful, and long.
It was a slow burn he built, taking his time, like we had years for Ham to taste me, touch me, give me everything.
With experience, I’d learned to ride the burn, not push it, not demand more. Moving my hands over him, tasting him when I had the chance but, when we did this, it was about Ham giving to me.
And that was what I got that morning.
Until Ham changed it and, doing so, he altered my world.
Because, when he finally slid inside, no condom, just him and me, he moved, slow, deep, beautiful but he did it holding my eyes, his weight braced onto a forearm in the bed under me but his hand connected with me, fingers wrapped around the back of my neck while he drifted the fingers of his other hand through my hair.
“Softest hair I ever felt,” he murmured.
My arms, already wrapped around him, tightened and I lifted my legs to curve them around his hips as I whispered, “Ham.”
He brushed his lips against mine, pulled back, kept sliding in and out, the rhythm sure, leisured, amazing, as he held my eyes.
“Drove away from you nine years ago, knew it was wrong then, didn’t know that it was the biggest mistake I’d make in my life,” he whispered back.
My arms and legs convulsed around him, I lifted my hips, deepening his invasion, and his rhythm escalated.
“Darlin’,” I breathed, not knowing where this was going but liking how it made me feel.
“You’re an unbelievable woman, Zara,” he told me softly.
I liked how that made me feel even more and tears filled my eyes.
But I ordered, “Shut up and make love to me,” and when I did, my voice was trembling.
Ham ignored me.
“Best woman I ever met,” he went on.
My hands slid up his back, rounding him, shoving between us and up through the crisp hair on his chest. I cupped his jaw and slid my thumbs over the stubble on his cheeks.
“Be quiet, baby,” I begged.
His thrusts got faster and he dropped his head, his lips a whisper away from mine.
“Took hit after hit, started life takin’ ’em, literally, you never even went down to a knee,” he murmured against my mouth.
“Be quiet.”
“So fuckin’ strong.”
“Quiet, honey.”
“So goddamned pretty.”
“Ham,” I whispered.
“Mine,” he growled, that noise sounding against my lips sweeping through me, his hips moving much faster, driving harder, going even deeper. “All mine,” he finished and, before I could say a word, he slanted his head and took my mouth.
Then he took us both there.
Timing it perfectly, I gasped into his mouth before I moaned, my limbs clenching around him, the climax rolling through me, gentle but beautiful and lasting. Seconds later, Ham planted himself to the root and groaned down my throat.
When he came down, he started gliding in and out as his lips trailed down to my neck and moved there. He did this awhile before he slid in, filling me, connecting us, and stayed put.
Then he said against my neck, “Want you off The Pill, honey. We start now.”
“Okay,” I agreed quietly, liking that.
Ham and me, we’d already started. But a family, we were going to start now.
Yes, I liked that.
And he’d obviously liked Zander, and meeting him reminded Ham, like me, of the bounty we had before us. No reason to delay. We started now.
He lifted up and looked down at me. One of his hands was still curled around the back of my neck, the other one he used to drift his fingers lightly across the skin on my face as his eyes watched.
Then they caught mine.
“Loved Rachel,” he stated and his words were so unexpected, considering the mood he’d created, I blinked.
Where did that come from? And why was he talking about Rachel now?
“Ham, I think—”
“Bear with me, darlin’,” he whispered.
I shut my mouth.
Ham continued. “We met after high school. She was beautiful, think I fell in love with her the minute I laid eyes on her. Stopped at nothin’ to get in there then bind her to me.”
He paused and I said nothing, doing my best to bear with him.
When I didn’t say a word, he kept going.
“Had a good life with my folks. Mom bein’ so sick, she took a risk havin’ me. She couldn’t take more risks after that, though. But, the love they had to give, love they gave me, I knew the only thing that would have made growin’ up better was havin’ brothers and sisters. Never, when I was a kid, when I was growin’ into a man, did I dream of doin’ big things. Goin’ to the moon. Makin’ lots of money. Bein’ some kind of hotshot. I just wanted to build on what my parents gave to me and showed me. A man in love with his wife. Dad takin’ care of her, me, our home. A woman in love with her husband. Them makin’ a child outta that love and workin’ together to teach him to be a good man. Havin’ that I knew that was the only thing I needed.”
“Okay,” I said softly, liking this part of what he was saying even as my heart broke, knowing Rachel took away that simple dream.
“So young, in love, I shared all that with Rachel. Laid it out for her. Stupid,” he stated and I tensed my limbs around him.
“She was the one who was stupid, Ham.”
He gave me a small smile, dipped his head, and touched his mouth to mine before he lifted it and kept talking.
“She told me she wanted the same things. She agreed with me on everything, our l
ife path, how we’d get there, how many kids we were gonna have.”
I nodded.
Ham went on. “I believed her. So gone for her, I sucked that shit up. Woke up in the morning, told her I loved her. Left for work, told her I loved her. Rolled into bed at night, worked bars then, too, babe,” he shared something I knew. “Woke her when I got home and told her I loved her. Every time, she said the same thing back. She’d even call me durin’ the day for no reason, she said, except to say she loved me.”
This wasn’t fun to hear but I held him close, held his eyes, slid one of my hands up his back so I could sift my fingers through his messy hair, and stayed silent.
But I did it thinking the woman I’d met a few days ago still loved my man. Back then, she was young, stupid, selfish, and I didn’t understand her kind of love, why she did the things she did. I just understood in that moment with the sadness I read in her face, the gesture she’d made for Ham driving all the way out to Gnaw Bone, that she’d spent twenty years paying a big price for doing them.
And the price she paid was losing Ham and, after doing that, knowing exactly how much she’d lost. But it was worse. She had to live with the fact that it was what she did that meant she hadn’t lost him. She’d actually thrown all that was Graham Reece away.
Ham broke into my thoughts to ask, “After what she did to me, I didn’t get it. How could you love someone and do that to them?”
“I don’t know,” I answered on a whisper.
“No,” he replied. “You wouldn’t.”
The way he said that, like he really believed it, meant the world to me.
Ham continued. “The two after her, cookie, same thing. I wasn’t stupid, though I was still young. But I’d learned. With them, I didn’t lay it bare, open myself, but we eventually got to the discussion and they told me they wanted the same things as I did out of life. They also told me they loved me. Swore it. Said it over and over. Then they showed how they felt, who they were, and it was not that.”
“No,” I agreed.
“And after the third, I really learned. After the third, I knew those words were empty. You can say anything but it’s what you do that says it all.”
My hand in his hair clenched as where he was going with all this finally dawned on me.
“Never said those words again, cookie,” he told me. “Women said them to me, didn’t believe it. Those words had lost their meaning.”
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