I loved that. All of it.

I still felt the need to protect Greg from Bruiser Ham.

“But you don’t know him, Ham. I do. And seein’ me with you had to hurt him tonight.”

“Zara, you bein’ you, actin’ like you, lookin’ like you, he’s f**kin’ lucky he hasn’t seen you with someone else long before this. And I’m not happy your life was f**ked but that doesn’t change the fact I’m lucky your life was f**ked so you didn’t even think about findin’ another guy or I would be f**ked.”

I loved that, too. A whole lot.

That didn’t mean I didn’t keep trying.

“Let me try talkin’ to him first,” I suggested.

He weirdly cut me off with, “Babe, your clothes in my closet?”

“Yes, but—”

“They are. You’re mine. Two strikes, he doesn’t get a third. Now I’m dealin’ with him.”

“That makes me uncomfortable, Ham,” I shared.

“I get that. I get why. I get you got guilt. I get you got feelings for him. I also don’t give a f**k about him. You’re my woman out to dinner with me and he stands there in front of me and calls you his wife? No f**kin’ way. No one stakes their claim to what’s mine, not behind my back, not across a room, and especially not to my face without a conversation.”

That was when I knew I was right about Ham.

When it was no promises, no expectations, he was fair enough to give the same in return.

When there were, what was his was his and he marked his territory.

I was also right about something else.

Possessiveness was hot.

“Go easy,” I said quietly, giving in.

“We’ll start with that and see how it goes,” he replied.

I decided to leave it at that and settle in.

We were silent for a long while but I couldn’t fall asleep and I knew Ham couldn’t either, so I laid something else on my mind on him.

“I’m worried about my aunt comin’ to the table and what Dad might have to say.”

I was worried even though I suspected I knew.

I’d been waiting. Waiting for years.

That didn’t mean I wanted to know and wasn’t worried about finding out.

“Put it out of your head,” Ham ordered.

He, I knew, suspected, too.

“I’m not sure I can do that,” I admitted.

He moved his hand to my face, fingers gliding along my cheek, through my hair, and he finished by wrapping his arm around me so I was snug in both.

“You made the decision to turn your back on that, cookie. We talked it out then and I still think you did the right thing. It was either they succeeded in destroyin’ your sister or they got a shot at bringing the both of you down. They destroyed your sister. Even if it’s not done, it’s still done. We got you to the place of understandin’ that. Don’t give her the chance to drag you back in.”

He was right. He was right back then when he guided me to that decision and he was right now.

I sighed.

Ham’s arms gave me a squeeze.

“We need to finish our chat,” I told him.

“We will, baby,” he told me. “Though, not much left to say.”

At least that was good.

I pressed even closer and whispered, “I’m sorry those women treated you that way.”

“Me too,” he agreed.

“Just sayin’, serious, no joke, we have what we have now or even what we had before, if we made a baby and I was carrying it inside me, no way I’d ever let it go.”

I just got out the O sound in “go” when his arms got so tight, I was forced to slide up his chest and my lungs constricted, seeing as he was squeezing the breath out of me.

Therefore, I wheezed, “Ham.”

He pulled me up his chest, his arms relaxed, and he slid one hand into my hair, bringing my mouth down to touch it to his.

When he let me lift away, he whispered, his voice jagged, “Thank you, Zara.”

That meant a lot to him and it meaning a lot meant a lot to me, seeing as I clearly said the right thing and that was what I hoped I’d do.

“You’re welcome, darlin’,” I whispered back.

He shifted me back down his chest, his hand at my head settling my cheek back to his shoulder and ordering, “Go to sleep, baby.”

“Okay. ’Night, Ham.”

“’Night, cookie.”

I closed my eyes and tried to find sleep. After a while, I needed to move so I rolled, Ham rolled with me, bringing up his knees and mine and holding me close around my belly so we were spooning.

I felt his face in my hair and heard his voice murmur, “Softest hair I ever felt.”

I felt my lips curl up, I snuggled my ass in his groin, and then I fell asleep.

Chapter Ten

Written in Blood

Reece

Reece did not fall asleep when Zara did.

He didn’t fall asleep at all.

And when his alarm clock showed seven thirty, he carefully slid away from her and moved out of bed.

Silently, he got dressed. Moving slowly so he wouldn’t wake her, he grabbed his boots and went to put them on in the living room.

His girl slept deep and they’d gone to bed late, but he didn’t take any chances with her getting up, finding him not there and wondering where he was. He left her a note in the kitchen saying he was getting something from town. He then went to her purse, found her cell, found her ex’s number, and programmed it into his phone.

Then he went to his truck.

He drove into town and parked outside the police station. Slamming his door, he walked up the steps to the wooden boardwalk that served as a sidewalk along both sides the length of the main street of Gnaw Bone, making it look Wild West, which, in its day, it was.

He walked into the station seeing a woman at the desk, and standing at her side, a tall, fit man who nevertheless had a slight paunch over the big belt buckle he was wearing. If memory served, and for Reece it usually did, the man’s name was Shaughnessy and he was a cop. He was wearing jeans and a flannel shirt, and it was likely he hadn’t yet gotten around that morning to putting his badge on his belt.

Reece walked up to the front desk and the lady asked, “Can I help you?”

Before Reece could answer, Shaughnessy butted in. “Reece, right? New top dog at The Dog.”

Reece looked to him to see the man’s eyes sharp on Reece but there was a small smile on his face that was genuine.

“Yep,” Reece replied. Shaughnessy leaned in with a hand raised and Reece took it. “Shaughnessy, right?” Reece asked to confirm.