Jagged (Colorado Mountain #5)(60)

I moved away and the instant I did, Ham curled his arm around my shoulders and tucked me close to his side. I wrapped my arm around his waist and we didn’t get a step before Pastor Williams stopped us.

“Zara, so pleased to see you here,” he said.

“Thank you, Pastor. I’m pleased I got the chance to come,” I replied. When his eyes went to Reece I introduced, “Pastor Williams, this is Graham Reece. Ham, this is Pastor Williams.”

They shook hands as Ham said, “Pastor. Folks call me Reece.”

“Fine, Reece. Nice to meet you.”

“Same,” Ham rumbled.

They broke contact and Pastor Williams looked to me. “I know this is not exactly a shock but it’s no less distressing. I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again. My door is always open if you ever need to talk.”

“Thanks Pastor,” I mumbled on a small smile.

He gave me a small smile back, nodded to me, nodded to Ham, and moved away.

I looked to my feet and muttered, “Hurry, let’s make a quick getaway.”

That was when I felt Ham go tight at my side and he muttered back, “Too late for that.”

My head lifted and I saw Dad approaching.

Really, he was handsome. He’d given me his blond hair. Although his had since faded to gray in an attractive way. He’d also given me my brown eyes. He’d been built back in the day and he kept in shape, for an older guy. If you didn’t know what a dick he was, and he didn’t wear that fact on his face, he’d still turn heads.

Ham drew me closer.

“Zara,” he greeted. These were the first words he’d spoken to me in nearly a decade and his voice was ice cold.

I refrained from replying, “Maker of the seed that spawned me,” and just looked at him.

His eyes slid to Ham before coming back to me. “I see rumor is true.”

I said nothing.

For some insane reason known only to him, Dad kept talking.

“Also heard you’ve traveled a rough road lately.”

I kept my mouth shut.

His eyes again slid to Ham before they came back to me and I wasn’t surprised it didn’t take him long to show his true colors. “As always, you solve your problems in an interesting way.”

“How’s Zander?” I asked as a response to that vague slur on Ham and me and I was thrilled not only to get the supportive squeeze from Ham’s arm but also to watch my dad’s face blanch.

I scanned the attendees and saw Aunt Wilona standing with Aunt Dahlia and my mother, all of them with eyes on me. Aunt Dahlia’s her usual nasty. Aunt Wilona looked a bit anxious but, weirdly, when I saw her eyes shift to Dad, they turned nasty. Mom’s look I didn’t allow myself to take in and quickly turned my attention back to Dad.

“I see Aunt Wilona didn’t bring Xenia’s son to his mother’s funeral.”

Dad’s mouth got tight, his eyes went cagey, and his hands went into the pockets of his trousers under his suit jacket, likely to hide that they’d balled into fists.

“It’s rather fortunate I was able to solve my problems in an interesting way before I found out my nephew’s living close by,” I remarked and that was when Dad’s torso swung in.

Toward me.

“Zara, you better—”

“Watch it,” Ham growled and his menacing tone of voice even freaked me.

Dad’s eyes cut to him and I looked at him, too.

But Ham only had eyes for Dad.

Angry ones.

“You’re already closer to her than I want you to be. You get closer, say somethin’ I don’t like, the serious problems we already got escalate in a big way,” Ham went on.

“Are you threatening me?” Dad asked.

“No, we’ll let our attorney do that,” Ham answered. Dad’s eyes got big, and with Ham’s arm firmly guiding me, he stepped us to the side and took us forward, past Dad, and straight to the truck.

Ham’s gait was not swift, but it was determined as he got us the hell out of there. My heels dug in the turf but I managed to keep up.

He opened my door for me and helped me up before he swung it closed.

He was behind the wheel and we were on our way when I spoke.

“Do you think we should have exposed our hand early like that?” I asked.

“Don’t know. Maybe not. Don’t care. Seein’ that ass**le’s face when you said Zander’s name and when I mentioned our attorney was worth whatever play we might have just given up, though.”

He wasn’t wrong about that. I didn’t get the chance to share that.

Ham asked, “You doin’ okay?”

I looked out the windshield and clasped my hands in my lap. “Crazy, funerals suck, but you can’t deny they give closure.”

“True enough, cookie,” he replied.

It was me who reached for his hand this time.

But when I caught it, it was Ham’s fingers that closed around tight.

* * *

“Fuck, Zara. Ride that,” Ham growled.

I was already riding his cock, bent over him, my face close to his, one hand in the bed providing leverage, the nails of my other hand scraping over his chest.

Ham had one hand to my hip, encouraging me with squeezes. The other hand was cupping my face.