Jagged (Colorado Mountain #5)(78)


As scary as his scowl was, the prospect of making the wrong decisions now that could possibly eventually affect three lives was far scarier.

So I explained. “The fact that it seems you want a commitment. To commit to me but, also, me to commit to you. And you want me to do that knowin’ you care about another woman.”

“February is not standin’ in my kitchen with me,” he pointed out and it was the wrong thing to say.

“Yeah, and when I asked you about an ex-lover, Ham, you gave it to me straight,” I shot back, my heart starting to race, my head beginning to hurt, not wanting to do this now but caught up in it anyway, which was not making me happy. “I have no qualms with that. It’s you. The problem is, after that, you gave me nothing. No woman in her right mind, especially with our history, knowin’ you had others besides me, is gonna hook her star to a guy who’s maybe hooked to someone else.”

At my words, his scowl instantly went dark as pitch and I fancied the lights in the kitchen dimmed from the force of his glower.

“Are you f**kin’ shittin’ me?” His voice was also lower, rumbling, and pissed way the hell off, matching his expression precisely.

But I threw up my hands in exasperation because, again, he did not contradict me. He did not assure me. He didn’t do anything but get more pissed at me.

“Do I look like I’m shitting you?” I asked, then locked eyes with him. “You can’t possibly think this isn’t hard on me, Ham.”

“No, you’re absolutely right. I can’t think that. What I don’t get is, why you’re makin’ this so f**kin’ hard, Zara. And just sayin’, you’re doin’ all this shit to yourself,” he retorted.

Man, oh man, now I wasn’t just exasperated. I was getting angry.

Therefore, I snapped, “How’s that?”

“Feb is not an issue,” he fired back but again gave me no more.

“Right, well, I’m still in love with Greg. Is that an issue for you?” I returned nastily and dishonestly.

“Jesus, f**k, now you’re makin’ shit up and, worse, actin’ in a way that I feel like I’ve been hurtled back to f**kin’ high school,” he bit out. “You need to grow up, Zara. We got issues, we talk ’em out. You don’t get nasty just for the sake of scorin’ a blow.”

I couldn’t believe he just said that. But he did, and because he did, I was no longer getting angry. I was there.

Therefore, I slammed my hands on my hips, leaned into him, and shouted, “My God, Ham! I’m not throwing an adolescent hissy fit. You say you want to start a life with me at the same time you care about another woman.”

“I care about a lot of people, babe, but I’m not f**kin’ any of them,” he clipped.

“Yes, well, call me stupid, seein’ as my life has been how it’s been, havin’ hope that one day, one f**kin’ day somewhere in decades of them, I’ll get what I want, but I’d kinda hoped, starting my life out with the love of my life, it wouldn’t happen with my man carin’ about another woman and carin’ about me.”

“Jesus, there’s a difference,” he replied.

“And that would be?” I pushed.

“Clue in, Zara, I’m standin’ right in front of you. I’m here. And, like I said, I’m f**kin’ you.” And on the “you” he lifted a finger and jabbed it my way.

Heart racing, skin prickling, I retorted, “So, tell me, Ham, February Owens wasn’t pregnant somewhere in Indiana, livin’ with her high school boyfriend reunited, would you be standin’ here with me?”

From the change that instantly came about him, something about that struck him. It appeared it was deep and that absolutely did not bode well.

Not at all.

“You can’t be serious,” he whispered.

“Explain why you think that,” I returned. “’Cause, see, where I’m standin’, I see how I’m bein’ very serious. I’m also hearin’ that you haven’t answered my f**king question.”

“Fuck me, you’re still so far up your own goddamned ass, you aren’t payin’ a lick of attention,” he ground out.

“Explain that too, Ham, seein’ as I feel I’m payin’ so much goddamned attention, my head’s about to explode.”

“I suggest you pay more,” he advised caustically.

“Actually, I was thinking of suggesting the same thing to you,” I shot back.

“Zara, I have been so in your space, in your business, in your life, takin’ your back and sortin’ your shit, consumed by all that, I feel like it’s been months I haven’t breathed just for me.”

“Then today’s your lucky day, Ham. Breathe easy ’cause you’re off the f**kin’ job,” I hurled at him, my tone ice cold but the blood in my veins was boiling even as my throat constricted.

I gave him no chance to say more. When we fought, we didn’t do it fair and we went for the kill and I didn’t have the energy to take more.

And I definitely didn’t have the energy to come to the realization, again, the way Ham danced around the subject, that he was not in love with me. He might not be in love with February Owens, either. But he was honest enough to say it right out, share how he felt about me, and he didn’t.

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