The Will (Magdalene #1)(115)

“Evening services it is, Slick. But not tonight. Next week. Happy to get closer to God to ask Him in His house to look after my girl when basketball stars and guitar players with motorcycles are in the mix.”

“Indeed,” I agreed but the word was weighty which earned me a squeeze of his arm and him tipping his head down to give me another grin.

He moved us into the living room where there was a football game playing on Jake’s extortionately large television and children all around consuming orange dip with red and green bits in it, doing this utilizing corn chips.

Jake, in Jake fashion, seated me himself. He did this in an overlarge club chair with matching ottoman that was really meant only to seat one but he made it seat two, albeit snugly.

He then commanded, “Eath, get Josie and me another bowl a’ that and bring in a fresh bag of chips.”

Ethan jumped off the couch and raced to do as his father bid. Therefore, in no time at all, I was confronted with a bowl of dip held in Jake’s big hand, the bag of chips resting in his lap.

It was time to make my judgment.

And I was much surprised to find the dip tangy, spicy and of a very smooth consistency that was quite nice and the chip was fresh, crispy and salty.

An excellent combination.

“It pass inspection?” Jake asked as I went for another chip.

I looked to him to see him studying me, lips again quirking.

“It’s not camembert,” I shared. “But it’s tasty.”

His lips stopped quirking and he yet again grinned as he went for his own chip.

Football game watching commenced and I found I liked sitting very snugly in Jake’s chair with Jake watching it with our lively company around. Ethan very into the game, thus shouting a lot. Conner and Jake often commenting about players, plays or calls. Myself engaging in conversation that had very little to do with football and much to do with fashion, makeup, skincare, and accessorizing as well as commentary on the good-looking players on the field with Amber and the Taylors.

After the first game ended, Jake ordered us all to the kitchen where we prepared our tacos (the meat, Jake explained to me, had to simmer awhile “for it to be real good, honey”).

Although I saw the envelope from which he’d poured the spices, and thus suspected the fare would be mediocre, he was not wrong. The tacos were delicious. Ethan and Conner microwaved the rather spare remains of the dip and spooned it into their tacos and I decided to try that should I have another taco afternoon at Jake’s for I thought it might be rather appetizing.

We ate in front of the TV and Amber and the Taylors had taken our used plates and cutlery back to the kitchen and refreshed our drinks when it happened.

The doorbell rang.

“Amber,” was all Jake said and she surprisingly dutifully got up and went to the door.

The front door was not close (there was an informal living room that looked more like a romper room for teenagers with a large sectional in it that had two laptops and a tablet scattered on it, as well as exploding backpacks on the floor, and also a dining room at the front of the house).

Not being close, we only heard murmurings and no one seemed overly bothered they had company.

Until Amber came back and my head snapped her way when I heard the trembling tone of her voice.

“Um…Dad, Con…uh, Mr. Earhart and Mia are here to talk to you guys.”

Mia?

The young woman who confronted Conner and Ellie at the football game?

I felt Jake’s body get tight next to mine, heard Con mutter, “What the hell?” but my eyes were riveted to Amber’s face.

She looked afraid.

Suddenly, I was out of the chair because Jake put his hands to my waist and shoved me to my feet.

Then I was moving toward the front of the house because Jake was also out of the chair, had grabbed my hand and was dragging me there.

He did this rumbling, “Con, with me and Josie. Amber, keep everyone in here.”

But Jake did not need to issue this order to his eldest. Conner was at our heels. I felt him there.

I just didn’t know why I, too, was attending this impromptu and clearly not welcome meeting.

I thought little of this the minute I hit the foyer and saw the man standing there.

He was not as big or fit as Jake but then again, not many men were. They were much the same age, I guessed. But even not as large or conditioned as Jake, this man was no pushover.

The other thing he was was enraged.

Utterly.

And his incensed eyes were glued to Conner in a way that I genuinely feared he might cause him bodily harm.

Without thinking, I pulled my hand from Jake’s and took a step back. My shoulder hit Conner and I stopped, forcing him to stop with me.

Then my eyes moved to Mia and my skin started prickling.

She was up to something. I could tell by the light in her eyes and the smirk on her lips. In the face of her father’s extreme fury, she should not be smirking.

Something was wrong and whatever it was, she was behind it.

“Neal, what’s up?” Jake asked casually but cautiously and I looked to him to see he, too, was positioned between the man and his son.

The man named Neal tore his gaze from Conner and looked to Jake.

“We gotta talk,” he bit out. “Private.”

Jake studied him only a moment but did it closely. He then nodded and held out a hand to the living room, which was a room that had a door, unlike the others on the bottom floor.