This was weird. It might take some time for me to get to sleep but once I found it, I didn’t wake up until morning. I usually woke up groggy, though, more willing to turn around, curl up, and fall back to sleep than get up and face the day.
But I was awake in a way that I could easily get up, make coffee, do laundry, and clean my apartment. In a way that I knew I’d never get back to sleep.
Which was totally weird.
On that thought, my phone rang.
I blinked at the clock on my nightstand and saw it was almost four in the morning. Warmth rushed through me and, following close on its heels, dread.
Only one person called at this time. The calls didn’t come frequently enough for me, but they came.
I knew this would happen one day. I’d hoped for a different ending but deep in my heart I always knew this would be how we’d end.
I wanted to delay, let the phone go to voice mail, do what I had to do another time, but I knew I shouldn’t. He’d worry.
I always picked up. The only time I didn’t was when I’d fallen off the ladder in the stockroom at my shop. I broke my wrist, conked my head real good, and they’d kept me in the hospital overnight for observation. When Ham got ahold of me after that and found out what happened, he drove right to Gnaw Bone and stayed for a week to take care of me. It was just a broken wrist and I was banged up a bit, but for that week I didn’t cook, clean, or do anything but work at my shop.
Ham did all the rest for me.
One of the many reasons why I wished this would end differently.
I also couldn’t delay because this needed to be done. No time would be a good time, not for me. I didn’t know how Ham would feel about my ending things, which was a problem, and explained why I knew deep in my heart this would be our ending.
So I might as well get it over with.
I grabbed my phone and put it to my ear.
“Hey, darlin’,” I greeted, my voice quiet and slightly sleepy.
“Hey, babe,” he replied and that warmth washed through me again.
Graham Reece, Ham to me, didn’t have an unusual voice. Though, it was attractive. Deep and masculine. But there were times it could go jagged. For instance, when I did something Ham thought was cute or sexy. Or when we were in bed and I was taking him there.
I loved it when his voice went jagged. So much so that even hearing his voice when it was normal reminded me of those times.
I forced my mind from those times.
“You off shift?” I asked.
“Yep, just got home,” Ham answered.
Graham Reece worked in bars and, as often as the life he led meant he was looking for a new gig, he never had a problem landing a job. He had a reputation that extended from Bonners Ferry, Idaho, to Tucson, Arizona; Galveston, Texas, to Rapid City, South Dakota.
This was mostly because although he might move around a lot, when you had him, he was as steady as a rock. Not to mention, he poured a mean drink and was so sharp he could take and fill three drink orders at the same time as well as make change in a blink of an eye. Further, he had so much experience he could spot trouble the instant it walked through the door and he had no aversion to handling it. He knew how to do that with little muss and fuss if the threat became real. And, last, he had a certain manner that I knew all bar owners would want in their bar.
This was because there was an edge of mean to his look. If you knew him, you knew that menace was saved only for times it was needed. But if you didn’t know him, one look at his forbidding but handsome face, the bulk of his frame, the breadth of his shoulders, his rough, calloused hands, his shrewd eyes, you’d think twice about acting like an asshole.