Kristen Ashley - Jagged

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 love you, Graham Reece.”

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 really beautiful.”

“Love that you think so, darlin’.”

Finally, I shut up and held on to my man.

He held me back.

We did this for a while, that was to say, we did it until Ham was done doing it.

“We gonna stand here huggin’ in the hall all night or are you gonna pick where we start? Break in the livin’ room or fuck in bed?” he asked.

A shiver slid through me and I pulled my head back to catch his eyes.

“Dining room table,” I gave him my decision on an alternate location and I watched his eyes flash in a way I liked a whole lot.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“I wanna smell my roses while you’re inside me,” I whispered and I got another flash before he dipped his head and his mouth was on mine.

“You got it, cookie,” he said there.

And he was right.

I did.

I had it.

I had everything I needed.

For the first time in my life, even though with the life I lived I never thought it would happen. And for the first time in my life, it happened without me having to work my ass off to get even close to it.

In other words, for the first time in my life, I just plain had everything.

“Cookie?” Ham called

We were in our bed in our new bedroom, my new-old one. We were spooning and I was nearly asleep.

Still, I had the scent of roses lingering in my nostrils and the feel of Ham still lingering between my legs.

“Yeah, darlin’?” I answered, my voice sleepy.

“Just sayin’, want that day to come soon that you got my name so you best get on that.”

I smiled into the dark.

“You got it, mein herr, ” I teased.

His arm around me grew tighter.

“Babe?” he called again.

“Right here, honey.”

“You take my name, you do it knowin’ you’ll never lose it.”

My hand found his at my belly. I linked my fingers through, feeling the band of his ring biting lightly into my flesh, and I sighed a contented sigh.

Then I replied, “I know.”

“And you know what it means.”

I knew what it meant to Ham.

Ham giving me his protection. His money. His love.

Him .

“I know what it means,” I confirmed and I did.

I knew it meant everything.

So I didn’t yet have everything.

But I was going to.

I felt Ham’s face burrow into the back of my hair.

“Zara Reece,” I whispered.

“Yeah,” he whispered back.

“Sounds good.”

“Fuck yeah, it does.”

“Ham?” I called.

“Right here, cookie.”

“I’m uncertain I can take you gettin’ any awesomer,” I admitted.

His body stilled for a brief moment before it started shaking then the rumble began and, shortly after that, his laughter filled the room.

I smiled again against my pillow.

Still chuckling, he pulled me even closer and muttered, “You got a lifetime to get used to it.”

I did.

I finally did.

Thank God.

Survivors

One week and one day later…

“This is gross.”

These words were spoken by Zander, who was standing in Ham’s and my kitchen and squirting devilled egg yolks through a pastry bag into the waiting halves of hardboiled egg whites.

The house was filled with people, every available surface groaning with food. The bar separating the kitchen from the dining room/living room also had food, a big devil’s food cake on a tall cake stand (Xenia’s favorite), a massive spray of red roses, and all this was intermingled with framed photographs of Xenia.

It was Xenia’s memorial party.

Zander might have missed his mom’s funeral but when I told Aunt Wilona about Kami’s idea, we agreed that it should happen and I gave the green light for plans for liftoff so I could have this and Xenia could have this, but more, so Zander could.

“It’s not gross. It’s delicious,” I contradicted Zander.

He squirted some devilled yolks into an egg, didn’t do a very good job of it, and I didn’t care. Then he looked up at me.

“I don’t like eggs,” he informed me.

“No?” I asked, loving every smidgeon of information I learned about my nephew, even the knowledge he didn’t like eggs, and I didn’t care one bit if that made me a freak.

He kept sharing the wealth. “My breakfasts of choice are pancakes or waffles or Nona’s hash brown casserole.”

Although I found the concept of Aunt Wilona’s hash brown casserole intriguing, I returned, “Eggs make you strong. Rocky Balboa drank raw ones before going out for a run.”